Missive from Yankeedom, pt. 2

After a week off, during which I spun around town some, found a great bike shop, but left the big wheels alone, I headed to the southwest of town for a Saturday afternoon ride at John Boyd Thatcher State Park.

The park is several miles outside of town, so I saddled up the Focus and headed out. As I drove I began to wonder if I might not have the wrong form of transportation: the roads were beautiful, and even my fat-tire-loving soul wished that I was cruising along on my road bike. Unsurprisingly, I saw a number of lycra-clad warriors on the route, and I'm sure I'll join them in the future, as the spin through old villages and up the climb onto the escarpment looks like a blast. (And it should help with my inability to climb.)

The park was packed with picnickers, with the smell of grilled goodness and music wafting over the hills while I rode. The trails themselves weren't anything special: a mix of double-track and wide paths that were heavy on smooth and low on excitement. The climbing, on the other hand, was fun (whether I did it on or off the bike), and the views made the trip well worth the drive. Here are a few snaps of the area:



Of course I've since found out that there are some really sweet trails in the park, just not where I was. An excuse to head back, it seems.

Missive from Yankeedom

As I've flown the coop from Durham and settled in the upstate NY (aka The Land of No Barbecue), I thought I'd update everyone on how the Ferrous likes the new surroundings. (Updates on the General Lee and the Cannondale will have to wait.)

A few days after piloting the moving truck into Albany I started itching for a ride. A few feelers on the web landed me with a guided tour of the Saratoga Mountain Bike Trails just north of Albany in Saratoga Springs. Brian, a knowledgeable local and officer in the local club, was kind enough to meet me and show me around their complex, overlapping trail system.

And it was a good thing that he was there, as I never would have managed my way on my own: the trails were tight, slow, rocky, and highly technical. Normally I find myself getting bored on slow-speed trails (like Rocky Road), but after an initial break-in period I found myself having a blast. The trails were hard, and I appreciated having a local to follow, as I'm not sure I could have picked my way through the rock gardens otherwise. As it was I tried to stick Brian's wheel, crossed my fingers, and prayed that the big wheels and my fork would make up for my relative inexperience on this type of trail.

These were easily the rockiest trails I've been on since I left Arizona, and it was quite a shock just how many boulders can equal a trail, as well as how much exposed granite slickrock there is here, many miles from the mountains. In fact, there wasn't too much elevation change at all, though the quick, technical nature of many of the climbs had me walking more than once (or twice, or three times a...). I would have loved to have had a lower gear here than my 32x18, as I think I might have faired a little better and embarrassed myself a little less. A swap might be in my future.

I wish I had some pictures to illustrate what the trails look like, but as we got caught in a torrential downpour it was probably best that I didn't have my camera with me. Next time, though, I promise.

Bees ... what?

It appears that, once again, my locked bike has drawn unsolicited commentary from a passerby. Can anybody explain what someone was trying to communicate to me in this photo? Last time the message was pretty direct, maybe a little too direct. But this time ... I just have no clue.

• Was a local child warning me about a beesnest under the pavement? I looked, but didn't see anything fly out.


• The last time I locked my bike here, I came back to find the front tire totally flat. Have I infringed on someone's special rack, and they've moved on from simple vandalism to mind games?


• The same day I took my daughter to a playground and there was a handmade sign in one corner reading "Here be hornets." Are gramatically eccentric apiphobes on the rise in Durham?

Or is this just some in-crowd phrase, like "Bears Beets Battlestar Galactica," which I still don't get. Bring me in, oh ye in-crowders.

Crested Butte Team Home, O2 overload, and Dr. 7

Watch out kiddos. Ali (now called Dr. 7) and I are back from the high mountains and breathing has never been easier, minds clearer, smiles bigger, tan lines darker, scabs crustier and bruises bluer.

Fake Racin' on tonight? Our lovely mt. bikes are in the hands of FedEx at this moment......safely I hope.

Crested Butte the Movie (DVD) is in pre-production and we should be looking for an early release date around the Holidays, that is if Emily helps me out with the formatting in iMovie. Need to coordinate on a red carpet gala at the raleigh Imax with Koelle and reception at Second Empire with Daniel. Should Rivial the Collective

Also more photos and blog posts will follow as Ali and I catch up on work and "normal" life.

It was epic.

Speaking of Epic.......rumor.....top secret WORLD RELEASE from Bull City Cycling. Specialized is making a 2009 S-Works Epic 29er. It is a top secret project that we heard about from a Specialized Product tester in Crested Butte. But you didn't hear it from us. It is so secret they did not even talk about it or show it at the 2009 Product Line Dealer Event unveiling last month in California.

hot buttered soul on a roll

Yesterday marked the death of soul music great, Mr. Isasc Hayes. Most will remember him as the guy who's only talkin' 'bout Shaft, Southpark's Chef, a crazy Scientologist, or Chris Rock's rib joint nemesis in "I'm Gonna Git You Sucka". For me, Mr. Hayes also provided the soundtrack for a particularly outstanding moment of cycling in the Bull City. Several years ago, Hayes was playing a late-summer nighttime show at the Durham Athletic Park, home of the film "Bull Durham" and many infamous World Beer Festivals. I was not in attendance, but was across town, enjoying beers on a friend's porch. It was one of those great September nights; low humidity, about 80 degrees, few mosquitoes, not much traffic. There was also a strange pulse to the night air. We could hear music, dimly in the distance. We couldn't quite tell what it was, but it sounded different from a house party or a car's subwoofer. As I rode home, I remembered that Hayes was playing outdoors, and as I neared my place the music became louder and clearer. On certain nights, atmospheric conditions are just right and sound carries clearly for long distances. In Durham, this was just one of those nights, and soul music wafted down the streets, like the smell of fresh pie in cartoons. It was undoubtedly a perfect night for cycling. The streets were free of cars. The air temperature was in equilibrium with my body. The soundtrack was impossibly smooth. The few people out walking around or sitting on their porches, also feeling the magic of the evening, waved and waved back. People were in great spirits and I'm willing to bet that there are quite a few four-year-old children walking around Durham today who were conceived that night. There is a special feeling about being a kid out after curfew. But I realized that, as an adult, this feeling had a greater significance: I felt like I felt like when I was a kid out after curfew. It was one of those moments, like in literature, when cosmic forces align. And it moved to the beat of Isaac Hayes.

Crested Butte Image Dump

Late Night-Hollywood

Monarch Crest Trail Epic - Continental Trail

Monarch Crest Trail



Monarch Crest Trail



Monarch Crest Trail

Crested Butte Report Days 1-3

(Photos uploading)

This report has been a while in coming and for purpose of catching y’all up I have provided a day-by-day account of our adventure so far. If you don’t want to bother with the words and just want to see the photos, click the sub-titles.

Prelude

The first obstacle we faced was simply getting here with our equipment. Brian’s travel saga can be summed up as a comedy of errors. He missed a couple of flights, arriving in Colorado Springs almost 3 hours later than schedule. Up in Denver, Wicked Mike discovered that Southwest had left his gear bag with riding clothes and shoes on the tarmac in Raleigh. It would Mike another two days to be reunited with his kit bag and he did the first couple of rides with flat pedals, sneakers, and gym shots- but I am getting ahead of myself. I arrived with all my things and the extra time allowed me to visit a friend who had recently moved to the Springs with his family to begin a new job at Colorado College. We had a long drive to Crested Butte that night and we arrived past 1 am after Wicked Mike drove 200 miles in 4 hours over the Continental Divide.

Day 1

We awoke on Saturday to behold the amazing views from our lodgings. Mike and I were up early, our body clocks unwilling to compromise their Eastern Standard bearings. Brian, on the other hand, slept like the movie star that he is until 11am. With a late start, we went to town to sort out our bikes and the rides for the next couple of days. Due to a mix up with FedEx, Brian’s Stumpjumper found its way to Salt Lake City and we’re expecting it sometime tomorrow (Tuesday). Making lemonade from lemons, Hollywood rented a Gary Fisher Hi-Fi 29er dualie dubbed Blue Steel from The Alpineer in town. The staff there was busy but made time for us. CB Veteran Wicked Mike was recognized immediately as the “guy with the Moots Rolhoff.” I had my hydraulic lines bleed because the altitude had generated bubbles in the lines and I thought it would be a good idea to have effective braking for the descents here. We were fortunate to have our first taste of the local trails with the Alpineer’s store manager Lisa serving as our guide. We were pleased; we were very pleased. Coming back into town we met Alpineer owner and IF 29er enthusiast Travis Underwood on the trail. We turned around and rode together, but the NC crew let the locals go. We were feeling the first effects of the altitude and they were training for singlespeed worlds this month and La Ruta later this fall. Total miles: 20.

Day 2

We headed out Slate d’Huez, an impressive route climbing almost 2000ft in under 12 miles, to Paradise Divide at over 11,000 ft, after a first stop at the home of Mtn Bike Hall of Fame founder Don Karle. Mike took us over to introduce Brian and I and borrow a set of clip-in pedals and shoes. Don is a mountain bike legend. As he positioned Brian on Blue Steel he mentioned many of the leading lights of mountain biking history by first name in the process of describing the trails around town. As we were chatting, Manitou Suspension founder Doug Bradbury ambled up to the backyard deck Bikes dialed in, we made the leg busting climb up to Trail 403 which descends from almost 11,800ft back down to Mt. Crested Butte where we are staying. 403 is a ribbon of wildflower hemmed trail that winds down the mountain. The descent was fast and fun. Too fun for Brian, who took a tumble when he came upon a large drainage that cut the trail too quickly. We found saw him lying on his back almost 10 feet below the trail, slightly dazed, his helmet cracked. Given his fall, the damage was light: some scrapes and light bruising. We rode home along Gothic Road having experienced on the most difficult 30 mile rides any of us had ever experienced. Total ride time: 5 hours.

Day 3

We headed south of town to hit the Reno Divide-Flag-Bear Creek trails. The ride began with another long 5 mile climb to the summit. This one was easier after the prior day’s climb of Slate. We were rewarded with an indescribably amazing descent down Flag. This trail flows! We have fewer photos from this ride because we were too busy enjoying the ride and trying to out-run the rumbles of an approaching thundershower. We do have a few though. We don’t have a a shot of Brian’s scary fall at the end of Flag. I discovered him lying in a creek bed almost 15 feet below the trail. Again, he was lucky to avoid serious injury. As he said as he scrambled up the embankment, “I’m laughing.” And so we were we. We preserved through two sandy single climbs which robbed our legs of power to enjoy a ripping downhill with 33 switchbacks that brought us to the trailhead. We caught and passed a party of moto-crossers on this downhill, our human-powered bicycles proving more nimble in navigating the tight, rutted, and rocky corners. Total mileage: 17. Total hours: 4. Thanks for reading.

Crested Butte Videos - Day Three (8/4/08)

Video#1 Ali and Ritualistic Black Fly Removal Dance at 10,000+ feet on Day 3




Video #2 Still Battling Black Flys in our Soccer Mom Mountain Bike Transport Vehicle




Video #3 Reno Divide Climb



Video #4 Drive back on Hwy 135

Crested Butte Videos - Day Two (8/2/08)

Approach up the beginning of Slate d'Huez........ seriously.



Gothic Road Ride Home

departures/arrivals

Dear John, The Pirate has left us.

No, he's not dead. He's up and moved to Albany, NY. Could this be a fate worse than death? Only time will tell. He mentioned he found a local skate park and that outdoor temperatures allow water to exist in liquid form, rather than the commonly found solid form. And speaking of solid form, I joined John for one final mtb ride at New Light, preceded by one final Biscuitville breakfast.

I give credit to John for being a powerful motivational force, advocating for dirt. Definitely not dirt on his bicycles, which were always suspiciously clean. But dirt under the wheels. I had mostly stopped mountain biking prior to meeting John, but he was always rallying the troops to hit the trails. And for that, I salute you. Also, he helped convince me that I should get a 29er and a bmx bike. And for that, I salute you. I guess I managed to convince him to do a cyclocross race, which he said was one of the most miserable experiences of his life (at least prior to moving to Albany), so he owes me one there. If anyone is reading this blog in the Albany area, give him some love.

In an unrelated piece of news, the stork delivered this to my doorstep:Just what is the significance of this puffy bike, you might ask yourself. Have I decided to one-up the hipsters with top-tube pads on their fixed-gear bicycles by adding pads to all of my tubes? Did I misinterpret the freeride dudes talking about "full squish" bikes? Are carbon fiber tubes "out" and foam tubes "in" (laterally non-rigid/vertically compliant)? Did my old cyclocross bike go on a Krispy Kreme eating binge? Is this bike psychologically unstable, posing a threat to itself and others, thus requiring padding and restraints? Oh just you wait and see...