Three *@#% 'in Mountain Madness

Ouch! Ouch again! Oh and ouch one more time. With a bunch more ouch mixed in the middle. Oh and it was 90 something degrees too. Somebody call the "Whambulance".

Well well, yesterday was Three Mountain Madness and for some reason, Chris, Ben and myself turned down a trip to the beach to basically see if we could kill ourselves on road bikes instead. We chose the 75 mile route and got off to a rocky start. The ride began "officially" and very punctually at 8:00am. Well at 7:59am, Chris' rear tube went "pop". With magic, Chris changed his tube in 1.376 minutes and we were off. Now we just had to pass 600 or so cyclists ranging from some dude in sweatpants and a t-shirt on a brand new full Dura Ace Trek Madone to every single Euro-wannabe in the Mid-Atlantic. Basically we rolled. Three man TT passing dozens of cyclists at a time. By the time we hit the first climb we were settled in and had made up about as much as we were going to. About this time, I regretted not swapping my cassette the night before. Lesson learned, an 11-23 cassette paired with a 53-39 crankset isn't too pretty on this ride, unless you are of the former East German cycling type (a.k.a Jan Ulrich) and like to grind it out.



Personally, I like to try and spin.
Consequently, I found myself looking around for one of these most of the day:



Hot discussion topics of the day included the following;
1) Pro cyclists all have to be on drugs.
2) Most cyclists passing us up the climbs were surely on drugs or were just plain cheating (negative gravity propulsion devices?).
3) Bull City Cycling is contemplating restructuring into Bull City Surfing next season (or maybe tomorrow). Who knows, I did hear the waves at Jordan Lake were "going off" today.
4) Oishi is thinking of cheating.....errr I mean he is participating in a scientific study at Duke's K Lab.
5) We should buy lotto tickets, because Michael Ball won't loan Brian the Rock Racing Chopper anymore after his recent unauthorized fly by of Duke Chapel. See below:



Also, Pilot Mountain is getting steeper and the Park Rangers are in cohoots with Smoky the Bear on a government cover up. I smell conspiracy. Also I think the acceleration of gravity has been significantly increased in the area. This is confirmed by my lack of speed up the climbs and Oishi's lack of brake pads at the finish.

All in all it was fun. I mean I now have some killer jersey tan lines and was lucky enough to pound a Mountain Dew after the ride. Now that is extreme!!!

Onward in June to the TORC Triangle Mountain Bike Race in Chapel Hill and Blood, Sweat and Gears in Boone.

Linus is the most Doughiest person eva!

No, really, I mean it: the boy cleaned up at the Doughman last week, so much so that he's even gaining some notoriety in the local press.

What is the Doughman, you ask? Is it like the Ironman, you ask? Is Linus our hero, you ask?

First things first: the Doughman, as described in the Raleigh News and Observer:

THE DOUGHMAN

Here's what Saturday's 14 teams had to do to earn the coveted marshmallow-and-pasta lei awarded finishers:

EAT: Egg, ham and cheese biscuit; side of potatoes and fruit at Foster's.

BIKE: 5.7 miles.

EAT: Paula Rocks Wrap (chicken, vegetables, sauce), kettle chips at Nosh.

RUN: 1.8 miles.

EAT: Chili dog and five hush puppies at Luther's

RUN: 2.2 miles.

SWIM ON BACK IN AN INNER TUBE: 25 yards

RUN: 2.8 miles.

EAT: Bacon cheese fries at Dains, lemon apple mint Loco Pop

RUN: 0.7 miles to finish at Farmers Market.

For more on The Doughman, visit www.doughman.org.


So basically yes, it's exactly like the Ironman, with competitors undergoing rigorous training, extensive endurance tests, and general all-purpose self-flagellation in order to make him or herself the most doughy of the men (and women). Needless to say, as Linus excels at all of the above, it's not surprising that his team "Dain's Team" (OK, so maybe it's Dain's team in name, but it's also Linus's, dammit!) rocked it out. There's also little doubt that there sponsor, namesake, and moral anchor Dain was instrumental in their win.

And yes, Virginia, Linus is Santa Claus. Er, I mean, our hero.

The coverage is pretty amazing actually, with write-ups in several local blogs: Bull City Rising, Carpe Durham, the Grinder, and MyMagicBean, just to name a few. Probably most impressive, though, is the story by Joe Miller in the News and Observer, complete with a photos by Chris Seward. (Be sure to check out this photostream on flickr, as well.)

It sure looks like a good time, and it's definitely worth flipping through some of the pictures to see our hero in action, not to mention the general shenanigans. The question that the rest of us have to be asking ourselves right now: where the hell were we? And how could it possibly been as cool as this event? There's always next year, I suppose.

The Bike Demon Says Ride Yer Bike.....NOW!

Sorry I think I was bitten by a rabid tick.

Dropping Science: Part 1

There is a lot of scientific research that goes into cycling, including materials, technique, and physiology. And while some of this research is motivated by trying to make a new product to make the heirs of the Trek fortune slightly wealthier, lots of it addresses how our bodies respond to cycling and what we can do to keep them working as effectively as possible. So when I read that cyclists need to intake X amount of Y for every hour of exercise, I've been curious to find out where these numbers come from and how they apply to me. So to add some insight to this, I've been participating in a couple of clinical research studies. Yes, I've been playing human guinea pig. 

When I explain this to people (particularly people who do not write on cycling-related blogs), the following conversation typically ensues:

Me: "So I'm participating in this exercise science experiment."

Friend: "Huh, really? How much do you get paid to do that?"

Me: "Um, nothing."

Friend: "Nothing? Why are you doing it?"

Me: "For SCIENCE."

Friend: "You're an idiot."

Yes, so, as the first part of this series, I'll try to explain why I thought this would be a good idea.

1) For the benefit of Science. 

I work in the sciences, so I realize the importance of collaboration. So when I can help out a fellow scientist, well, how can I refuse?

2) For the benefit of cyclists.

When I watch those Gatorade commercials about how they tested it on University of Florida football players, I kinda feel bad for those players. I mean, regular, old school flavors taste like sweat, watered-down with generic orange drink, so I can only imagine that the prototype was even worse. Think of the poor dudes who had the formulation with too much salt. Or the dudes who had the formulation with not enough carbs. Or the dudes who had the formulation that contained natural alligator colors and flavors. We should salute these athletes. We should salute the persons who tested Heinz formulas 1-56. We should salute the unknown souls who tested Preparations A through G. We should salute the choosy mothers who didn't choose Jif. We should salute the people who tried, but were not satisfied with Pabst's red ribbon-winning brew and told those master brewers what they needed to do to improve it.

3) For my own motivation.

Some folks feel inspired by wearing the team kit of their favorite rider. Some folks feel inspired riding a pro-level race bike. Some folks have posters of their favorite rider winning a race or a grand tour stage. But the image I always conjure up in my mind is a rider in some lab somewhere, with a bunch of electrodes hooked up to them, maybe a tube in their mouth, suffering terribly, with a bunch of white-coated scientists looking on. This is hardcore. This, for some sick reason, is motivational.

4) For my own training.

An hour on the trainer at high intensity is an hour well spent. Which is to say, an hour on the trainer is a stupid and miserable experience. We ride bikes to get outside and have fun. And riding a trainer indoors satisfies neither of these virtues. However, it is an investment in making that time spent outdoors more enjoyable. Fitter. Faster. Feistier. Well, that's the theory, at least.

5) For my own science.

Knowledge is power. And I need to increase my power output. I figure, if I can figure out in all of this little factors like when, specifically, I need to eat and what I need to eat during a race, it could make a big difference. I don't really care what the sample population does. I want to figure out how I tick. 

And so we begin. In the next episode, The Experiment.

ah, wilderness

To our loyal readers worldwide, we aim to make this blog chock-full of content. Like a multi-vitamin or the blood of a mid-1990s professional cyclist. So, I give you, a long rant about stuff:

It's that time of year when the weather is nice and cyclists everywhere start to speak, with renewed vigor, about the danger of cars on the roadways. There are indeed many lousy drivers out there. Full of a lousiness of skill or lousiness of humanity. Possibly both. And since the sun is hot and makes the streets hot and tempers hot, many of us take this as a sign to retreat to the forest. Retreat back to nature.

It's safe in the forest, right? Sure mountain biking has the dangers of taking a somersault through a rock garden or performing a human piledriver off of a rickety teeter-totter, but other than a self-inflicted crash, the forest is safe.

But here's the rub: nature wants to take your fluids and leave you for dead.
It is the truth. And no, I'm not talking about bears or rabid weasels or sasquatches [North American yeti] or arboreal Buicks. Little things are much more dangerous.

1) Mosquitoes. Mosquitoes will suck your blood. This is okay. I can spare a little blood, as I have done with various medical experiments and crashes. But why, oh why, must they make me itch? I suppose that they can transmit malaria and West Nile virus, as well, but these aren't really a problem here just yet. Instead, they are just a minor nuisance.

2) Ticks. Ticks, like mosquitoes, also want your blood. And, like mosquitoes, can infect you with nasty stuff like Lyme disease or Rock Mountain spotted fever. These things are bad, particularly Lyme disease which may not show up for a long time and will mess with your central nervous system. Unlike mosquitoes, ticks are crawly guys who are very difficult to crush and like to go to warm places on your body where you frequently don't spend a lot of time looking (well, maybe not you, but me). I've found ticks in bad places. Places that should get them registered as sex-offenders. They are evil and difficult to crush, but it's ultimately very satisfying when you do destroy one.

3) Chiggers. Contrary to popular belief, chiggers don't bore under your skin. They insert this tube into your skin, spit in some acidy crap to dissolve your tissue, then try to suck it back out. This is not cool. Further adding to their general uncoolness is the fact that, like ticks, they like to find warm places and/or places where your clothes constrict, like socklines or waistbands. Like mosquitoes, they will make you itch, but usually not for about 48 hours (so you don't know you've been attacked until much too late) and since they add a lot of poison to your body, they itch for days or weeks. Itching around your sockline is annoying, but itching in your bikini-zone sucks. The real kick in the pants, however, is that they don't really want your fluids (or your fluidized flesh). They are looking for some other type of mammal, so after they mess you up, the leave, ultimately unfulfilled.

4) Poison Ivy. Poison ivy actually doesn't want anything from you. It is just a bastard. It is often hard to spot and will make you itch. Itch for weeks. Plus, it makes your skin look gross. And we mean the ivy no harm. We don't want to eat it, or any of its products. Creatures that do eat it, like goats, are immune to the poison anyway. It's like a bad driver who doesn't even realize that it's run you off the road into a ditch.

5) Spiders. Spiders are smart enough to realize that they cannot eat you, so they are generally cool. Unless they feel threatened and may bite you, causing itching, swelling, and possible necrosis. Ask Pirate about these guys.

The bottom line is that it's a jungle out there. Be careful.

To Douthat or not to Douthat.......Douthat is the Question

Yes. You should Douthat. At least that is what JD, Dave and myself decided on Saturday. Douthat State Park is in such a remote area of western Virginia that even Googlemaps can't accurately or consistently tell you how to get there! We departed from Durham on Friday evening for a 1/3 Memorial Day weekend adventure. Our adventure started with a 5 hour journey to Douthat from Durham via every single scenic byway in Virginia or at least it seemed that way. Around 9pm we rolled into Buchanan, VA and devoured some spaghetti from a local mom and pop pizza joint in town. Carboloaded and ready to escape from the Tacoma-lodge we quickly set up camp just outside of Douthat State Park at a private campground. The state park campgrounds were full and in the future I would highly recommend staying in the park on the lake. See forthcoming photos.


JD and Dave trying to figure out how this little cabin ended up way up here in the woods.


Dave was riding so fast that his skin started to melt on the screaming fast singletrack descents.


A nice section of bench-cut trail on the Mountainside Trail.


Dave and myself on Mountainside Trail. Notice the nice inviting lake below.


Dave telling JD we are not taking another photo in this spot.

Trust me this is the sketchiest bridge ever. I think it was constructed of chicken wire and wood from an old rotten barn.

So in the end our adventure leaned more towards a comedy of errors and not so much a Shakespearian tragedy, with only minor bloodshed and three mountain bikers pondering why oh why hath we not haveth larger mountains closer to the Bull City. Alas, Douthat you bringeth merry times.

Dirt times two

Fueled by a little NaS and talk of other old school hip-hop, Chris and I headed out of town to find a trail neither of us had ridden for some time. As we were unloading our bikes we ran across someone we'd ridden with a couple of years ago: Chris (aka sennaster) was rocking out a big-wheeled Redline, and we eventually figured out that we knew each other from a ride at New Light. He was joined by his friend Josh, who scoffed at all of us on our overly trendy 29ers. (Not really, or at least not audibly.)

The four of us shoved off together at a nice easy pace meant to match the holiday weekend, as well as the good Professor's tired legs. (Uh, and mine too, but I blame it all on Chris.) Quickly confused on the winding trail, Oishi and I got separated from Chris and Josh, but not before we passed we got a pic of his blue bike in action.


Thoroughly turned around by this time, Chris and I continued plod along through the woods, all the while discussing an elaborate taxonomic system that could accurately categorize the various sub-populations of 20- and 30-somethings. Engendered by the question "what is a hipster?" and quickly digressing into attempts to quantify ironic distance as measured by the polo's popped collar, it's amazing that neither of us wrecked while pondering the difference between the hipster and the scenester. Clearly, the world will be a better place once we can resolve some of these weighty issues.

In honor of the philosophical nature of our ride, I present a photo with the effects all screwed with for no good reason other than I like playing around on iPhoto:


Needless to say this was more of a social ride than a training ride (something the meaning of which I've forgotten), but it was just enough to wash away any aftertaste of used car shopping. (If only I could find a '62 Ford Ranchero that got good gas mileage and had anti-lock brakes and airbags that whole search would be over, by the way. Anyone? Edit: Or this!)

We all wait with bated breath for the tales of woe and wonder that will accompany JD, Dave, and Brian back from the VA.

RX: Dirt

After spending the last couple of weeks in the relentless pursuit of a decent used car, by Friday afternoon I was ready to pull out my hair and dance in the streets. (Or something like that.) Frustrated enough to spit, I decided to head down to the Morrisville trail complex to get in some good fat tire therapy. I haven't ridden since Sunday, and the tomato sauce on my frozen pizza for dinner is currently counting as a square meal, but I knew that I'd feel better if I could just summon the energy to turn the pedals for an hour or so.

My little Ferrous didn't disappoint. I hit the newer bandit trail near Crabtree, then hopped across the road to do a fast lap of the Crab. I rolled a few times around my ol' favorite the pump track, but after a couple of bumps I was purty wore out: I would never have thought that such a short loop could slap me around so much. As I spun my way toward evening it was just me and the (rather angry) squirrels in the woods. The trees are in full leaf now, so I lost track of the trail around the time the sun went down, but when I hung up ol' faithful I was ninety minutes closer to sanity.

Not only should bike shops have a test loop, I've now decided that used car dealerships would be doing everyone (or at least me) a great service if they had someplace you could go sweat between decisions about option packages and annual percentage rates. I don't know whether or not it would help them sell any more cars, but I might not feel so icky at the end of the day.

Still, my quick outing meant that the ol' Pathfinder got to carry around her two-wheeled accomplice one more time, which was good for all involved. And now I'll be able to go to sleep a little less crazy over overhead cams and miles per gallon. Thanks dirt!

Adam "53x12" Haile

The recently-returned and much-improved Adam Haile and I met this morning for a quick jaunt. Quick was the operative word. Adam showed off his midwest crit-honed pedal-through-corner-skills, ramping up the the tempo immediately and unforgivingly to make sure than he spent an hour at 300 watts. He spends more time in the his biggest gear than anyone I have ridden with in recent memory. Welcome back, Adam.

New Light rap

Since Chris and Ben were spent after having broken legs on Saturday's P-ride, Brian and Ali were no-goes following their quixotic adventure through central NC, and JD had somehow thrown his back out getting ready for his son's second birthday party (I'm curious too), it was just Daniel and I on the traditional Sunday ride at New Light. Well, Daniel, me, and a host of others all roaming around the trail on long-travel full suspension rigs. I'm assuming that the two-wheeled couches must be fun, because all the cool kids seem to be riding them these days.

For what it's worth, whenever I see someone riding a 6"+ travel bike on our rather tame Triangle trails I always start singing:

I like big bounce and I cannot lie.
You other riders can't deny:
When some dude rolls by on a 6'n'6 bike
And throws his long-travel in your face
You get SPRUNG...

(Sung, of course, to the tune of the Sir Mix-a-Lot classic "Baby Got Back.")

It's possible that this says more about me than either than anything about either the other bikes or their riders. Maybe even likely.

No matter, we weren't prevented from getting in a good ride, and while it was neither epic nor extreme I think we were both pleased at the pace. More importantly, I was able to finish a ride without having an attack of the tube-snake, meaning that we were able to ride mechanical-free. There was a moment as we skirted the lake when the wind started picking up and I thought we were in for another mid-ride shower, but the threatening clouds blew over and we were able to finish with a cool breeze at our backs. All-n-all not a bad Sunday.

In other news, Adam Haile has officially touched down in the Bull City and is already talking some smack about crushin' 'em on the Tuesday ride. Consider yourself forewarned: Ad-Rock suffers no fools.

**Actually, it's more like me talking smack for him: I'd hate to give the guy a bad name before he's able to even unload his bikes.

Bull City Cycling's New Threads......

Coming soon to a peloton, mountain bike trail, group ride and coffee shop near you.....

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Thank you to our sponsors.

And a big thank you to Linus for such a killer design.

Sometimes yer a playa, sometimes ya get played

Today's ride was definitely one of those rides on which everything seems to go wrong. Mostly I blame Chris, since Dr. Oishi hit me up this morning for a mid-afternoon ride, and as I haven't done any riding lately (other than the couch), I succumbed to his peer pressure. (He really had to twist my arm, I promise.) Excited to hit the trail, we loaded up our matching big-wheeled bikes and headed to Beaverdam.

Not two minutes into the ride my tube came popping out of my back tire like the top button after Thanksgiving turkey. Unlike last time, this time the tube got caught up in the chain and punctured. We stopped for a quick tube swap only for the valve stem of the spare to pull out. Since I wasn't carrying a spare tube we were forced to patch tube number one, by which time the mosquitoes had located us and were enjoying a stationary meal.

Eventually we got things back together and headed out to finish (or really start) the ride. Undaunted by my earlier mishap I threw myself off the high side of a log ride, and then somehow sustained yet another flat toward the end of the loop. Not wanting to stop and patch the tube again I yelled at Chris to punch it and I rode out an ever-flattening tube. By weighting the front of the bike and thinking light thoughts I limped back to the parking lot.

Like I said, it was just one of those rides. Luckily Chris was a good sport about it, so there are no hard feelings. (I don't think.)

Actually, the high point of the ride was probably our discussion of some upcoming tomfoolery, as well as the possibility of getting a team vehicle. Stay tuned for updates.