Bonaire

Credit: Caleb Mcelhaney.

A small island in the Caribbean.   I was the kid's age when I was dragged out of Longview, TX  into a foreign country.  An island with no snakes, but filled with cactus, volcanic rock, high humidity, severe sunburn potential, scorpions that like to hide in shoes.   I was pushed into the local school where the kids and teacher spoke little to no English.  I had to learn how to make friends starting on the outside and looking in.

But I was a kid, and I was resilient.  I jumped right in and played along.  It took about 6 months of complete submersion to understand what was going on around me.  It took longer to be able to write in Dutch,  the official language.   On the playground and in the streets, I learn the local language of Papiamentu.  At home, we had to sit down again and do English lessons.

But I was a kid, and I took advantage of every situation.  Not really intentionally, but because at 10, 11, 12 yrs of age,  given free reign to roam,  that's what a kid does.  Hitch hiking with a total stranger, and watching in amazement as the speedometer needle in the Trans Am climbed above 90mph.

I rode my bike all over the island, often times alone.  Exploring every nook and cranny that I could find.  Going places that most people on the island didn't take the time to go.  I saw some really cool vistas, plants and animals.

As the years past, I got into windsurfing and plunged into an activity that would change me forever.  A wind powered tool that enabled me to skim across the surface of the water, as fast as I could hang on,  or I could simply drop the sail and dive down into the cool , crystal clear water.

I started dreaming of bigger things,  raced a couple of times,  one time making it to the semi finals.  One race director told me that I had talent,  I just needed modern equipment.  I was racing on a 20 yr old rig.

And then at age 16,  I woke up to find that I had been ripped out of paradise and dumped in the hell hole that is Charlotte.  Don't get me wrong,  Charlotte is a find place to live,  but compared to an small paradise in the Caribbean?  Yeah.

I have wanted to go back ever since,  to take my wife and show my kid what life was like.  I want to them to experience what I experienced.  And in the middle of this thought pattern,  I realize,  I don't want them to experience what I experienced.  That was and still is my life.  I want to share some of the cool things that I learned and saw,  but in the end,  I want them to have their own experiences.  I can take them back to the island (hopefully one day),  and share with them a large piece of my past,  but I need to let them have the freedom of their own experiences.

Up until recent years, I wanted to move back, to take the kid and submerse him in the language and culture.  But then realized that he is having an amazing childhood without me trying to alter it and align it with mine.  He is in an amazing school,  had amazing teachers and friends.  He is involved in the local cycling, soccer, basketball and hip hop communities.  Why not leave it like it is, and experience his childhood with him.  Be a part of his life, not direct his life.

And then it all made sense.  My childhood was not better,  just because of where I grew up.  I had some amazing experiences.  Not better, different.

Weird Dreams

I haven't been updating here much recently,  although I am updating more than I'm riding my bike....

The house remodel project of the decade is in full force and I'm learning all kinds of new skills and brushing up on others.  I will say that rock work takes patience and skill. 

I guess I'm pretty worn out, because I have been sleeping almost all night long and having some strange dreams. 

Two nights ago, I dreamed that I was in a Blue Ridge Parkway visitor's center/ office building and some kid with a revolver started shooting.  Chaos ensued and I got our safely, only for the kid to pop up right next to me.  Again I escaped, and again the kid popped up.  This cycle happened several times before the dream ended or I woke up. 

Last night, I dreamed that the kid and I were at a lake somewhere.  There were canoes in a rack, so the kid and I took one for a spin on the lake.   What followed was someone calling the cops,  me getting arrested and then going to jail for 5 months until my court date rolled around. 

What in the world? 

Maybe I need a vacation.

Back to my roots..

Since wrapping up this year's mountain bike season,  the one I started at The Snake Creek Gap TT in January last year,  I have spent quite a bit of time reassessing my goals and figuring out what I want to get out of this sport.

As usual, I'm going to leave the season somewhat open ended, open to flexibility to change goals if it works out better.  But mainly it looks like I am going back to my roots. 

When I first started riding,  I did a couple of metric centuries.  These were fun so I started signing up for a couple of full centuries each year.   I moved to Asheville 9 yrs ago and was introduced to Bent Creek.  I sold (or threw it over a cliff, I can't remember) the piece of crap mountain bike that I was riding, and bought a Specialized Hardrock Single Speed. 

After riding that for about 9 months, I signed up for the Cowbell 12 hr Challenge.  All I had was a cooler with some water and snacks in it.  No support.  I didn't know I should have a tent either, so I set my cooler by the informational kiosk, sliding the cooler after each lap, in an effort to keep up with the shade. 

I had a blast and immediately signed up for ORAMM, finishing with my best time ever...  7.5hrs.  In the 3 subsequent years, I have not been able to come close to that time. 

So, here I am, 5 years later.  I have improved a lot, no doubt, and I would love to continue racing every other weekend.  Traveling around the Southeast, staying in hotels etc but a few things have changed. 

I have an awesome 9 yr old now who deserves my attention.  And I want to be there to see him slide tackle that kid, and score that 3 pointer. 

Sometimes I imagine what it would be like without a kid.  It would definitely be different.  I would have different experiences, different failures, different successes.    But in the end, this is what I signed up for, and just like my mountain biking career, I am determined to do the best I can. 

Another thing that has changed is the wife has a job with an odd schedule.  Again, this is what I signed up for, and I am uber proud that she found a career that she loves, and I will do what it takes to make sure she is successful at it. 

And lastly, another huge issue is the cost of living.  When I started racing, I could enter a race for $65, and buy a gallon of gas for close to double that.  Not anymore.  Everything, bike parts included is more expensive.   Don't get me wrong.  I'm not whining or singling any one race out of the mix.  I'm just saying things are more expensive.  And on top of that, I now get to register for soccer, basketball, piano lessons etc.  Life in general is more expensive.  

But, that's how it goes.  No use sitting around complaining about it.  Just have to readjust goals. 

At this point, with the home remodel still going strong,  I've turned to running to keep me sane.  An hour out the front door and back has been a lot of fun.  I live near some trails so I have just been running out and back and enjoying the change of pace. 

For next year though, I'll be doing a lot of riding just for fun.  I have an idea of a handful of races that I want to go back to and finish successfully, without winding up in the back of an ambulance.  Hopefully I can get those worked out on my schedule.  I also need/ really want to get down to ride the Trans North GA route.  I'm going to need a big chunk of time for that,  and to work out some logistics.  Maybe a 2014 spring ride though, we shall see. 

That about sums it up.  Still riding, less racing, still having fun.   I'll miss hanging out with the MTB community every other weekend, but that's life.  I now get to hang out with soccer moms and dads every weekend!!  

See you on the trail, or the soccer field!

Trips For Kids WNC Cycling Kits

Check out this link to order your new edition of our cycling kit. 

Run

I lace up my running shoes and pull on my tights and long sleeved shirt.  The sun was low in the sky and the wind was whipping up what felt like just a taste of a winter storm.  I stretch and head out the door.  A brisk walk up the road to warm the muscles and then the quickened pace of a slow trot.

I'm not focused on speed, just good form.  If I'm moving forward and nothing hurts, I'm happy.

The pavement turns into gravel, then into single track. Yellowish brown leaves are strewn about in heaps, still fluffy from falling freshly onto the forest floor.  Not so many that the trail is not discernible, but soon, the trees will be bare and the ground covered.  The leaves will hide the perils of the trail, rocks, roots, potholes.

Someone passes me running the opposite direction,  we greet and then I'm alone.  I focus on the rhythm of my foot fall.  I listen to the sounds of the woods,  although today for some reason, there is not much going on.   No squirrels running about collecting food for the coming winter.  No birds singing.  Already huddled in their nests?  Possibly.

This is the first cold snap that we have had.  The summer has been delightfully cool,  I didn't miss the typical blast of heat that we have had for the past several summers.

As I run,  thoughts creep into my head.  Life's issues, little and big.  I have to fight to stop them.  I'm not running to work out my problems.   I'm running away from them.  To forget, just for a short time what is going on in the world.   To just enjoy the colors, the smells,  to be free from the things that drag a person down.  To glide, hop, skip, jump.  Running in search of freedom.

But, I don't really have to search for it.  It is right here,  I just have to accept it and enjoy it.  And I do.  For close to an hour, I relax my mind.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Ink

It is something that I have wanted to do for a very long time.  A tattoo.  I have had tattooed friends since I was in the 5th grade.  The problem was, that growing up as a missionary kid,  in a conservative home, I was taught that tattoos were evil, sinful and even potentially the "mark of the beast".    If that is the case, I guess I'm screwed and God can stop spending so much of his time loving me.  Cause I went out and got ink.

It has been and still is a long journey.  I was talking to some friends the other day who jokingly agreed that kids should be beat into submission.  I calmly disagreed with them and explained that beating kids into submission is much like breaking a horse.  You break their will to be free, to roam to....be a horse.   

I read an article recently about a child who was standing in line with his father.  The child, being a child, repeatedly asked his father to buy this or that.  The father, finally fed up, shut the child down, telling him to stand there silently or else.  This article struck home, and I realized that as a child and into adulthood,  I had been broken.  Afraid to speak up, to ask questions, to live my own life.  I based decisions on what I thought my parents would approve of.  (hint: your children seek your approval). 

After many discussions, with the voice in my head, friends and of course the wife,  I decided to do it.  It only took me  1 yr from the time I decided to move forward to getting it.  Lots of logistics,  as in: how do I find an artist I trust?  what design? etc.  But then I talked to a friend this weekend who had a really cool piece on her arm and it clicked.  She told me that the work was done at Empire Tattoo.

I walked into Empire Tattoo yesterday and told Brian what I had in mind.  We had some discussion and came up with a simple design.  I liked it and was ready to go forward but needed the wife's approval.  I took a copy of the design home and she loved it, so it was all systems go. 

I walked in again today to get started.  The artist,  Ryan, spent a little time on the drawing board, dialing in the final design, showed it to me for approval, then went to work. 

Now, I must say,  I don't do needles.  I used to get my cavities filled with no numbing, just to avoid the needle.  I gave blood once, and nearly could not make it back to my dorm,   I was useless the rest of the day.   Knowing that I was squeamish, I practiced all of my relaxation techniques and things seemed to be going well.  Until suddenly, I knew that passing out was just around the corner.  I told Ryan I was light headed and he stopped working, got some water for me, a cold cloth, and a Dum Dum. 

Here I was, manning up to get some tattoo work, and now I was laying on the floor,  about to pass out.  It didn't really hurt,  it was likely the anxiety that had me losing my cool.  Ryan was chill about the whole process, telling me that this was normal.  I asked him how far he got, considering living the rest of my life with a half finished piece of artwork on my finger.  I was surprised when he said he was over halfway done.   Several more minutes of recovering went by, I tried to get up once, but was not quite ready. 

I don't know how much time went by, but we finally got back to work.  I decided to close my eyes and imagine that I was somewhere else.  After little time, he sat up and asked what I thought.  I was and am very pleased. 

The design simple yet so deep with meaning that only those who know me well will truly understand,  yet on the surface it makes perfect sense: permanence and infinity,  the promise to be with my wife forever, is now forever tattooed on my skin.

Recovery

I think I finally recovered from the early morning last week.  Call me soft, but the only other recent time I have been up before the sun is on bikepacking trips.  Why waste perfectly good darkness on being awake.

Speaking of bikepacking, the TNGA is on my radar but with the ongoing house remodel at the top of the priority list, it might be a while. 

I usually don't get into politics very much.  For some reason, the recent ACA and government shutdown debacle is on my radar.  Politicians will play their games, with no other intention that to fill their own coffers.  This is a generalization and there are a handful who I believe on working for the people.   There is nothing wrong with making money though.  The problem I have is when you are doing it at other people's, hard working people's expense.   That is wrong.

And now the country will be in debt by about 16 Trillion when the new year rolls around.  What happens when we can't pay it off, and who do we owe that much money to?  Time to cut back on some politician's paychecks...
And on top of the politician's antics, the insurance companies, which are money making machines...at the expense of commoners , are jacking up their premiums?  

What next? 

I thought about skipping this post, don't want to bring you down.  But these things have been on my mind.   The above actions challenge me even more to love my neighbor, and help my fellow human.  It spurs me to continue to provide bike to the communities youth so that they can experience the joy of riding and all the positivity that comes with it.

Maybe I should take a load of bikes to the white house and take Congress for a spin....

Trips for Kids - WLOS News13 - Waking Up with News 13

I set my alarm for 3:50am on Thursday.  Wow,  why?   I had a date with Victoria Dunkle and Adam- the cameraman  at The Bicycle Thrift Shop....at 4:30am.  (Dunkin Donuts is closed at this hour)   I had a great experience.  Both individuals were very professional yet warm and friendly, and made themselves at home in the shop for 2.5 hrs.

Below you can see the news footage


Trips for Kids - WLOS News13 - Waking Up with News 13

Busy Weekend

 

 Fun filled weekend that we spent mostly together as a family, enjoying different events in our area.  Friday night we headed out to the Elaida Corn Maze.  Fun times.  I didn't know that there were other activities going on or we would have planned more time.  This was my first corn maze and it was pretty cool.  I'll go back next year!

 Saturday morning I headed up an effort to clean up the grounds around Oakley Elementary.  About 12 adults showed up and kicked some tail, getting things done.  The place is starting to look better, lots to do still so we'll keep chipping away. 

Home for lunch, then out to Pisgah Brewing to  help set up the AVLX course.  We set it up in a record 2 hrs and I was out of there to go watch my kid play soccer.  He is a great player!

 Sunday morning, up early for the Ride 2 Recovery.  I had planned on the 70, but something I ate had other plans, and after a rough night of little sleep, I settled for the 50.  This route proved to be challenging enough.  I started out at a chill pace, chatting with several different people. 

 I stopped for a little while at the first rest stop and got heckled by some first class hecklers...

 

I decided to head out of the rest stop,  knowing that I usually catch people or get caught.  I figured I would keep rolling my own pace and latch onto a group later.  I passed one guy and then rode the remaining 30 miles alone.  Oops, so much for a social ride!  The route was very well supported and the people very friendly.  For participating we got a cool tech-t and a finishing medal.  And the ride supports wounded veterans!

 I  quickly rode home to gather the family and head out to the AVLCX races.  The kid did awesome at the kid's bike race.  Placing 3rd,  I'm so proud!

Running

For some reason, I have a deep internal desire to run.  Maybe its because that is what kickstarted my outdoor adventure background.  Possibly it is because I have a desire to run a trail marathon.  Probably because I like to switch things up and keeping it simple is a good way to go about doing that.

Running is one of the most simple forms of transportation and recreation.  I used to read books about Jim Elliot, a missionary who was killed why attempting to reach the Huarorani in Ecuador.(wiki).  He used to run, to "be ready".  I thought that sounded like good advice, so sometime in between high school and college, I started running. 

I had a pair of black Chuck Taylors and on my first run, I ran the mile to Mc Donald's got some water and ran home.  I felt a freedom and a sense of accomplishment.  This period led to several very successful but slow 5k, 10k races  always on pavement.

The Turkey Trok 10k in Charlotte became a yearly ritual.  I remember my parents coming out to watch one time,  they weren't really sure why I would do such a thing. 

I moved to college at Toccoa Falls College in NE Georgia.  This was a great move.  The 1000 acre campus butted up to miles of wildlife management area, and was within 1 hr drive to Helen, GA, the Chattooga, the Appalachian Trail and more.  I was in heaven.   I didn't make great grades in college,  but I'm pretty sure that it had nothing to do with having the great outdoors right outside the dorm.  I have theories, but that's another topic for another day.

And so I ran.  Into the woods, up trails, then up the side of a mountain, off the trails.  I ran when and where I wanted.  Evening runs on the paved loop around campus became a ritual for me.  I ran alone.  Sometimes, a group would gather to go sightseeing for the day,  to a water fall,  or explore the Tallulah River Gorge at low water.  I would join them and soon get bored with the chatty slow hiking pace and start running.  Occasionally a few would join me.

I didn't really know what I was doing, but I was just going out and running.  Most of the time I was probably undernourished and dehydrated, but that just shows what the body can take.

I decided to enter the Run For Peace Marathon in Charlotte.  The race shut down because the director "took the money and ran".   Not sure if he made it to Alabama.  

I found a rudimentary training plan and went for it.  I ended up injuring my IT band two weeks before the race while doing my 19 mile run.  19 was the farthest I had ever run so it was pretty successful.  I tried resting and icing, then attempted the marathon only to bail after 10 miles due to the injury.  It is something that plagues me to this day, despite all of the common treatments.  I think it has to do with poor stride technique but can't get it figure out.

1 yr later, I attempted the marathon again and decided to finish no matter what.  I ran-walked a lot and around mile 18, the rest stops were shutting down.  I plodded on.  Around mile 22, it started to snow.  I plodded on.  The ambulance came by to ask if I was ok.  I was.  I was properly dressed for the weather.  After 6.5 hours, I finally finished my first marathon.

I started this post to explain why I run.  I have not really addressed the issue directly, because I'm not really sure.  The real reason?   Because I want to.  I enjoy it, it brings me a type of freedom, and its simple.

The activity won't be replacing cycling in the long run, but its definitely a handy tool to facilitate enjoying this awesome mountain range we live in.  I am toying with running a lot of the trails I ride, just to slow down and enjoy them.

Feel free to join me!

Big Red

I spent all my free time yesterday, in between meetings and opening The Bicycle Thrift Shop,  hauling the debris and tossing it into the big red dumpster. That means all I have left is to caulk the entire project, touch up some paint spots and sit back to enjoy it....

Time to go for a run!

Dull Life

There has not been much to write about lately.

The weather turned chilly this weekend and we started up the wood stove.  This stove is our main source of heat.   Its a lot of hard work, but I am at a point now where I am 1 yr ahead on gathering wood.  It takes a lot of pressure off to be able to plan ahead like that.   It would be cool to have finances stored up that far out.  But of course, if I did,  I might spend it on a new bike.

That's right,  I'm seriously looking into a full suspension.  Its gotta be the right one though.   I've tried quite a few that have too much travel.  I need/want something racy,  100/110 mm travel in the front  not too much in the back.  I don't like the squishy feeling when pedaling.  I'm thinking Superfly..... 

No hurry, just saving and waiting for the right deal to come around.

I have not been riding so much lately.  I'm planning on doing the Ride 2Recovery Ride on Sunday.  I figure I'll go for the 70 miler,  then pack it up and head out to watch some of the Asheville Cyclocross races at Pisgah Brewing. 

For now though, its just day to day boring stuff,  like loading a dumpster full of remodel debris.

I did go for a run yesterday.  Just under 1 hr, and it felt great.  I'll have to write more about why I made that decision soon.

Getting Close

 Getting close to the end of the current project.  I decided to push on through to the end instead of leaving lots of little jobs that never get done.  I'm worn out and beat up but its worth it.

3 major projects left,  one necessary and two cosmetic.

Once we get the roof redone,  (and the leaking stopped)  I want to raise the interior ceilings for a more open space.    In conjunction with that project,  I want to tear down a non load bearing interior wall that separates the kitchen from the living room,  rearrange the kitchen and build a large bar/eating area.

Unless I uncover a pile of money, that will be the long term plan!

It has been a long slow journey but I am learning a lot along the way.  Seeing this stage has given me the confidence to complete the project.  There was a point when I was burned out and didn't care much about it anymore.  That'll happen,  you just have to give it a rest sometimes.

The wife picked out the colors, and it turned out really good.

Gotta get the whole project caulked and then touch up the paint.  The final step will be getting the piles of debris removed.

Actually, the final step will be to smile every time I pull up in my driveway and see the new siding!

Siding

Nine days off the bike, by choice and for good reason.

We bought this fixer upper house 9 yrs ago and have been working on it ever since..... when the finances are available.  It has been a long road and lots of cussing, spitting and learning.

Below is one of the before and after pics.  I'm too tired to go in depth about it.  It was a challenge equal in difficulty to any bikepacking trip I have done.  And the reward is just as fulfilling!

We are now one step closer to realizing our dream home!

before

after (during)

I finally got to go for a ride again yesterday.  It felt great.  Just a 1.5 hour spin through Bent Creek. 
Then when I was loading bikes for the Oakley Elementary Bike Club,  I reinjured my back.  Time to take it easy for a while and let the body recover. 

Stage 5

I woke up at 5am.  Well, I didn't really wake up,  I had not really slept.  30 minutes here and there all night long.  It turns out that everyone I talked to was feeling the same.  I knew I would feel better once I got on the bike and started riding.  Today  we were being shuttled up past Gloucester Gap for the start.   After getting loaded up and securing a spot in the front seat of Wes's truck, we slowly crawled up the road.   3 trucks with trailers full of bikes and a big yellow school bus full of people. 

I'm not a big fan of shuttling to the start, but I was looking forward to a shorter stage today.  25 miles that included Farlow, Daniel Ridge and Bracken Mountain, ending at the Brevard Music Center. 

We lined up and Todd counted down sending us ripping down a 1 mile downhill to the gap then the gravel climb up to Farlow.  I push for 10 minutes then settled into my pace.  The climb as usual was relentless.  It was a relief to get to the single track climb and have something other than gravel to focus on. 

The morning had started out cloudy, turning into heavy mist.  When the wind blew, the water drops fell off the trees making it seem like rain.  The temps were warm though, and I was comfortable.  I couldn't push the pace too high though, because it was humid and I knew that overheating on a day like today was a real threat. 

Down Farlow,  I started riding, then watched Dick come flying by, bobble, go airborne and land on his side.  He got up quickly and was ok, but I was spooked so I started hiking down the trail. 

The hike a bike sections on the other side seemed to go quickly and I soon found myself having fun, pushing my pace on lower Farlow.  I didn't get caught on this section, but Melissa came within sight.  She had passed me at some point each stage and I was never able to catch up to her.  Today, I was determined not to let that happen.  She would be my motivation to keep pushing.  I didn't really care if that person was male or female,  I just knew that I needed motivation.  I had also passed Hans on the Farlow downhill, hike a bike, and was looking over my shoulder for him to catch me as he  usually did.   It turns out that he crashed, breaking his nose.  He still finished the stage about 30 minutes behind me. 

I flew down Daniel Ridge and stopped at the rest stop to get  my fresh bottles and headed out.  Melissa passed me and disappeared.  I headed out in pursuit, knowing there was an 8 mile gravel climb coming up.  I'm happy to say that no one caught me after that point.   I reeled Melissa in and rode with her for a mile to recover, before picking up the pace just enough to pull ahead and out of sight.  Thom Parsons and I rode together.  We chatted a bit, but mainly just put our heads down and climbed.  Thom dropped off at some point and I rolled on.  Finally reaching the top with noone in sight behind me.  A few minutes later, I spotted Melissa on a switchback above me.  I refused to let he catch me, so I punched it.  The last 6 miles is newer, less than 1 yr old single track and with the rain it was slimy.  There was no way to rail all of the turns so I decided to punch it up every single climb, and not stop pedaling unless the trail tilted down,  even then taking a few good pedal strokes. 

I glimpsed her less as the trail went on and finally made the last down hill.  Glancing back I didn't see her, but kept the pressure on until the finish. 

Crossing the line felt great.  A big hug for Todd and Heather and I was finished. 

I wound up 10th in the 40 plus cat and considering the back injury on the first day, I am satisfied with being able to ride through the pain and stiffness and hang onto my  position. 

Can't wait until next year!

Stage 4

 After feeling empty and lacking power all week, I got tired of it.  I grabbed a hot dog and  french fries at The Hob Nob Cafe, then picked up a giant pizza at Marco's on the way home along with some beer from Earth Fare.  I've been watching my diet, eating lots of veggies and less snack foods, but my body was hungry for some carbs and fat.... and that's what it got. 

This morning, on the way to the race, I picked up a dozen Bo Berry Biscuits for the volunteers and bought steak and cheese biscuit for myself.  It tasted great and stuck to my ribs!

I lined up at the back of the pack, not wanting to get caught up in the gravel road sprint.  I fell in behind some folks who were of the same mind and we took a steady warm up, up the gravel.  Left turn onto Spencer Gap and up the steepness to the single track.  I found my groove and was pleased that I was able to maintain my desired pace.   Crossing the top of Trace and dropping into the gnar on the other side, I stopped to let the Simril train cruise by and then rolled down again.  I was again pleased when I relaxed enough to ride almost everything. 

Down through the bottoms we came to a very confusing spot.  I saw markers in two directions and new where the route was supposed to go, but didn't know if the route had been altered by the race directors for some unknown to us, reason.  Pretty soon there was  a group of about 6 folks there, and everyone thought it best to follow the arrow to the left.  I went along with the crowd. 

By the time we reached aid station 1 it was obvious that we had made a mistake.  Nothing to do but keep riding, and so we did.  I kept my pace and tried not to think about anything except nutrition, pace and pedal stroke. 

 Down Lower Trace, across the river, through the campground, left up Wash Creek Rd,  cruising along with Dick and Hans,  more of the Dutch crew.  Super nice guys and strong.  We made it to rest stop 2 where the wife and kid handed me bottles with water and Coke.  Perfect,  the stop took no longer than 10 seconds.  We headed up Trace and I walked the steepest parts and rode what I could, knowing that I needed to save some for stage 5.  I was with about 3-4 other guys and Pua, who had gone the right way, passed us halfway up. 

Finally to the top of Trace, then down Spencer Gap to Wash Creek Rd. Hang a left on the gravel road that leads us to Bear Branch,  bomb down, then back to Wash Creek Campground. 

Todd informed us that he would be taking our average MPH, and adding 4 miles to our total time.  Everyone that I heard, agreed that was a fair way to go about it.  The only downside is that we missed Middle Fork and the super fun upper section of Fletcher Creek.  That's racin'.

A dip in the super cold creek to get the muscles primed for tomorrow, and we loaded up and headed home. 

One more day..... looks like it might rain!

Stage 3

34 miles. 5178 ft of elevation gain.

I drove up the Parkway to the start this morning and was treated to some great views of clouds filling the valleys and bright sun overhead.  No tourists out this early so I made good time to The Cradle of Forestry, got warmed up, and to the start line.

The start was actually fairly controlled with all the leaders on the front.  I was feeling good and ready to ride like I had trained.  We knew the left turn onto gravel was coming soon, but were caught off guard when the police leadout pulled into the left lane and stopped.  With no warning, the first half of the group barreled past the turnoff and had to turn around while the second half of the group made the left.  We could have used a marshal or arrow or something.

Onto the climb, then left on Club Gap.  Lots of anaerobic riding.  I was feeling good and felt like I was under control.  I guess I didn't have as many matches as I thought I had.  I ended up walking a lot and was glad to get onto S Mills River Trail.  3 of us road down together, a smooth train of cyclists on old rail trails.

Across the river and onto Squirrel Gap Trail, the trail with no trailhead.....

I stopped to make a minor adjustment on the bike when Marc,  a friend from Curacao, passed me.  We ended up yo yo-ing for the rest of the day.  Neither one of us saying much, but glad to have someone to keep the pace. 

The first rest stop was at mile 18.  I was hoping that 52 oz of liquids would be enough.  Up and down on Squirrel, then dropping down Laurel Creek Trail and across the river.  With 3 miles to go,  riding the past hour overheated, I drained the rest of my water and sports drink.   The climb up Bradley Creek road was a grind and the slowest that I can ever remember doing that climb.  Marc was just behind me, keeping pace.  I could tell he was dragging, just like me so I periodically let him know how much was left in the climb. 

At Yellow Gap, I sat down and ate some Coke and potatoe chips.  I was feeling like crap, and knew that I had some endurance pace, but no snap.  I got back on the bike and headed up the climb.  I kept within sight of Marc for a while, losing him in the contours but catching sight when the trail straightened.  Then I lost him.  I climbed, hiked, hiked and hiked.  Up and over the top, I was feeling ragged and worried about the decent.  I took it easy and didn't take any chances.  I would get halfway through a switchback and simply freeze up.    Halfway down, I came across Thom Parsons.  He followed for a while, then asked how often I got out to ride the trail.  I said not very often.  I immediately hit a switchback and just froze up.  I didn't have the mental stability to make the turns.  Unfortunately for Thom he was not expecting my crappy skills and had to stop fast causing him to take a small tumble.  (sorry Thom).  I apologized and he waited for someone else who could ride to take some solid footage. 

I eased the rest of the way down the mountain and turned right.  Marc was at the rest stop.  I didn't stop.  He quickly caught me and it became apparent that he was super strong on the downhills and flats, and I was stronger on the climbs.  Without a word, we worked together,  me pulling up the inclines and he pulling through the flats/ downhills.  I glanced down once and we were hitting 27 mph. 

We finally hit the pavement for a mile then left and across the finish line.  Marc waved me up, and we clasped hands and held them up, crossing the line together. 

Another day down.  Still looking for my mojo.  I'm in 10th in the 40 plus cat,  and I'd like to stay there, so I have to keep fighting. I'm starting to wonder if something is wrong with my components causing undue drag.  I looked it over and couldn't find anything.  Maybe this is just not my year.

What I do know is, I 'm going to give it everything I've got.  Never was much of a quitter!

Nothing to do but ride!

Stage 2

 

 

Wednesday, September 18, 2013:

• 29 miles, 5118 ft of elevation gain
• Named for the Brevard town mascot - the White Squirrel
• Includes Thrift Cove, Buckhorn Gap, Club Gap and Avery Creek Trails
• Rest Stop 1 - Mile 14
• Rest Stop 2 - Mile 22

I woke up feeling about 55%.  As the morning went on, my back started feeling a little bit looser but still tender.  We lined up and the gun went off.   I went for it, but after about 2 minutes, I realized that my body was not ready yet.   I had spent so much energy protecting my back yesterday that I had almost not power.  I rode on the outside of the trail to let the hordes behind me get past.   And then I settled in to my pace.

Nothing to do but ride.  It is frustrating.  Having trained more consistently than ever before,  knowing that my legs are stronger,  doing everything right and then an uncontrollable weakness creeps in.   I've been dealing with back issues since college.  I was on a humanitarian trip, helping build a concrete wall for a community center in the Caribbean.   I was digging a trench all day in the hot sun and completely destroyed my back.   2 weeks of bed rest and then 6 months of physical therapy and I was able to run again.  

Nothing left to do but ride. 

I spent most of the day alone. Sycamore, Thrift, Black, Maxwell, aid station 1, the gravel road of death climb, Club Gap,  Avery, rest stop 2.   I stopped to refill,  get Coke, and eat some chips.  Pedaling down the hill to the horse stables, I didn't think about much except the 4 mile climb up gravel.  Clawhammer to Maxwell.  I hit the inline and click up a gear, spun, click up,  it felt good.  I had some power back so I found my normal race pace and held it there for a few seconds.  The seconds turned into minutes and I was making some headway up the giant mountain.  Something had clicked and I was feeling about 85% now.   I went with it, and help my pace to the top.

Then I started thinking about the Squirrel, Laurel, Pilot Loop on tap for Thursday and wondered if I just might be able to move up a little out of my current 10th place ( in my cat: 40+). 

Up over the last climb and down to the finish, feeling satisfied. 

I spent the afternoon before dinner hanging out with the "freaking" Canadians: Joel, Anna, Mark and Christian.   They are fun loving, kind people, who talk a bit funny eh?  But they fed me spaghetti, beer and Mark even washed my bike for me.  

Thursday is going to be special!

Stage 1

28 miles.

I woke up to some awesome weather,  cool and overcast.  Perfect.  Coffee, get the kid ready for school, load up and hit the road.   I was feeling good,  little did I know that feeling was fleeting and things would take a turn for the worse.

I made it to Brevard with plenty of time to sign in and get ready, taking a nice warm up ride.  I still felt fine.

Todd told to ride neutral until we hit the left turn on hwy 280.  I guess the "other" Canadians, didn't get this memo or don't speak English so well because they tore out of the parking lot like bats out of Pisgah Hell.  Pinning it from the start.  I was missing the pros from years past who were able to at least keep the pace steady.   This was the fastest we have ever gone out of the gates.  I rolled up to the front, and let the 3 guys know that we were neutral until the left on 280.  One guy laughed and said " Oh,  I'm pulling off soon anyway"....  doesn't get it.

So we all tried to hang on and after the race, found out that we all thought the pace was way too high.  Anyway.

Left turn onto the gravel up into Turkey Pen then drop down the single track to S Mills River.   I was feeling a bit off, and not managing the trail very well.  I was bouncing all over the place and not sure why,  I simply did not feel in balance.  I slowed down and went my pace trying to find my mojo.

Up Mullinax and onto the steep grunt climbs.  I had some momentum, slipped on a round rock, and came to a sudden standstill twisting my wrist and jerking my back.  My wrist hurt but everything else felt ok.   But, over the next 10-20 minutes, I felt a burning sensation creeping up my left leg, into my glute and finally stopping in my back.   I stopped and got off the bike, knowing that my "race" was over.  I couldn't keep power on the pedals and I couldn't ride the techy stuff.

I got back on the bike, and tried to relax, find an easy gear and just spin.  And that's how I spent the rest of the day,  just spinning, trying to keep moving forward and not giving up.   We still have 4 days left and anything can happen.  Typically when my back does this, under normal circumstances, I recover in 2-3 days.   Racing bikes?  Its gonna take a miracle.

I managed to find a position on the bike that would give me periodic relief, especially climbing up Buckhorn Gap Trail.  I made my way to the top then left on Black Mountain.  The hike a bike then the down hill.  I know quite  a few people who like Black Mountain trail, but it is so eroded, that its not fun for me anymore, much less with a tweaked back.  But that's how it is so I gotta  roll with it.  And that's what I did,  walking some riding some, grimacing lots,  down to the bottom and to the finish.  3hrs 41m,  about 30 minutes slower than I had planned.

Massage by Hands On Healing Professionals, cold dip in the river, Ibuprofin, warm epsom salt bath, ice pack, stretching exercises,  and hopefully tomorrow I'll be a bit more limber..

The weather stayed nice and cool for the whole day,  perfect for me.  Although my new friends from Curacao were cold.

Can't wait to line up again tomorrow.

Pisgah MTB Stage Race 2013

Well, here we go.   Stage Race #5.  I am surprisingly not nervous.  The day before is the  worst.  Lots of mental and physical pacing.  My mind tires before my body, then I have trouble falling asleep.  I think I got about 6 hrs which is a record for the night before. 

I have been trying to decide if I like bikepacking or racing better.  I've had to scale back this year and find a balance.  The answer would be neither.  I like both.  This time of year however,  I'm tired of pushing my limits of fast and would be content to ride my own slow bikepacking pace, soaking in the views. 

But when I hit the line, I know that I'll get pumped up and know that I signed up for a race, not a tour.  And it turns out that I love to race. I still love to push my limits, and see what all my training and consistency has added up to.  Podium? Highly doubtful,  but I suppose there is always that slight chance. 

Sometimes I wonder if I would line up even if there were no podium.  The answer is yes, for example: The Save The Trails Challenge.  I'd like to see a lot more of these fun type rides. 

But this week is all about racing, so here goes.  The drive train is lubed, the chamois buttr'ed, the coffee hot and the engine rested. 

Nothing left to do but to ride!!