Moonlighting

I got the call midweek. Josh (Inland Racing) was looking to fill-out a team for the 6-hour mtb race at Carolina North. With the NC cyclocross series four hours away in Hendersonville and Linus: Original Gangster out of town, I figured I couldn't pass up this opportunity.

Okay, here's the situation: 6 hours of 8-mile loops at Carolina North. Our 3-man team consisted of Josh, me, and C-Hill icon, Derek N., a one-time bike shop employee, part time trailbuilder, and sometime golfer. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, the Three Philosophers. Our team was named after the beer (which Derek brought, but which the trail landowners, UNC prevented us from drinking (go to hell Carolina!)). The beer was probably named after three philosophers, but I don't know who they are and am too lazy to google right now.

Josh blazed off to a fast start, taking the hole-shot down the fire roads. We couldn't see much until he returned to the start/finish zone. Our strategy was to each do two laps, then switch to single laps, if there was time left. This strategy, was designed to give us time to warm up, settle into our laps, and relax after riding. Given the cold temperatures, I think it was a sound strategy. After the first lap, Josh was in about 4th place overall and he calmly rolled into his second lap. Derek was up next. He claimed not to have ridden much in the past year or so, but he turned in two fast lap times. He definitely used the home-court advantage, but I also think his version of "haven't been riding much" still means that he's fast.

My first lap: 4:00 rolled around so I finally got to racing. I quickly burned past a few people who seemed puzzled. Of course they were, they had been riding for 3 hours while I had just been bumming around anxiously waiting to ride for 3 hours. So I passed you and you in a demotivational way, I apologize. If my caviler freshness just made you scoff and motivated you to go faster, I applaud you.

My second lap: the sun finally went down. Riding in the twilight has a motivational element. Psychologically, I always feel like I need to try and ride faster to get home before it's too dark to see. Also, according to the previews, twilight is when the sexy teen vampires come out. Watch out. I turned on our borrowed Light and Motion Seca. Let me first say that these lights are bright. Let me next say that for such an expensive light (retail price ~$600), their mounting system sucks. It's a plastic strap with a few holes in it like watch you'd get out of those plastic egg dispensers in the entryway of supermarkets. Mounting one of these on a fully-rigid bike didn't help and whenever I hit a pretty big bump (which was frequently on these trails), the light would rotate up or down, throwing $600 worth of light straight at my front wheel or off into the cosmos. And between blinding centipedes and misdirecting planes landing at the nearby airport, I rolled on through the darkness. The weird thing about nightriding in the winter is that feeling that your head is totally disconected from your body and you exist in this world that is about two meters wide and 4 meters long. It feels exactly like bonking. I realized this about 2/3 of the way through my second lap and since I wasn't sure if I actually was bonking, I pretended I was and just tried to keep turning the pedals over and hoping to get back quickly.

So what have I learned about endurance racing:
* Teams are cool. Solo riders looked miserable.
* Solo riders are cool. Plus they get to brag about being hardcore later.
* Hang out with people who do a lot of endurance racing: they have chairs and tents and bring all the best food and stuff.
* If you can't hang out with people who do a lot of endurance racing, at least hang out with people who do outdoor presentations, like Josh, who does promotional stuff for his chiropractic clinic.
* Do endurance racing in the summer. It's cold in the winter.
* Get your lighting set up right.
* Endurance racing brings out a wide range of people. I recognized a bunch of people, ranging from local mtb xc racers, to cx regulars, to shop guys to trianglemtb.com personalities, to Duke-affiliated folks, to dudes I just see around on the trails.

Pisgah Sucks

Ben and I had both been jonesing for some Pisgah lately. You just can't go too long without mountain biking on some of the trails out there. I found a day I could get away from the budding family and we headed down Saturday night. Sunday morning we were ready to go after scoring breakfast at Allison's Diner in Black Mountain. Ben had never ridden Heartbreak Ridge and since it's a must do ride and a little bit closer to the Triangle than Pisgah Ranger District this was where we would make our stand.

We parked at Andrew's Geyser and headed towards the Heartbreak trailhead. Not 10minutes into the ride I attempt to roll through a deep creek crossing and have to dab at the end. Foot slips, splash. Felt real brisk since the temperature was barely cracking 30F if that. Thankfully there was some brutal switchback climbing on Lower Heartbreak to get me warmed up. Ben was rolling through most of the switchbacks despite plenty of leaves stealing traction and hiding goodies like roots and rocks. At star gap we started the descent down to Jarrett Creek Rd. The downwhill switchbacks were more my style.

Next up Curtis Creek Rd, the brutal 6mile fireroad climb that is in really good shape now that it's been repaired and opened back up to cars. Curtis Creek dumps you onto the Blue Ridge Parkway where you get more climbing, a little descending, and a final one mile climb before hitting the trailhead for Upper Heartbreak. We noticed a little snow on the BRP road surface then as we climbed the snow kind of grew and got thicker especially over in the trees beside the road. The hike a bike off of BRP that gets you to the start of Upper Heartbreak had 2-3 inches of snow which made it hard to keep on trail and got my feet wet again. My piggies stayed wet and cold most of the day.

The snow was kind of patchy in places on Heartbreak but was about all I could handle along with the slick leaves. Those leaves were hiding a nice rock that decided I needed a good endo. This is a sweet long descent that ends with the switchbacks we climbed up to start the day. I tried "real hard" to talk Ben into tacking on a Kitsuma loop too but the car was too close. Butch's BBQ in Morganton sponsored our ride by offering unlimited hush puppies with the BBQ plate.

After dropping Ben off at home, I had a scary but in the end very lucky mishap. When you see the car behind you flash the high beams pull over. At first I wondered what they were doing and then noticed my bike wasn't on the rack. Pulled over and the bike was being dragged, held only by the rear wheel still in the rack. Since my fork has no lawyer tabs I guess it just popped right out of the fork mount. Miraculously there is no damage to the frame or fork. Sadly my beautiful gold Hope stem and headset are destroyed along with my front disc caliper, bars, and saddle. A few more miles and the headset would have ground down enough to expose the head tube. Thanks dude with the high beams.

Farewell to Hollywood...

Well, the time has come...Hollywood is officially switching status from Team President and Le Chapeau of the Durham Peleton to Chapter President of the Denver BCC squad.

With heavy hearts, Daniel, JD, Hollywood and I headed out for one last ride on the dirt. With all the excitement of actually having a sunny day, we forgot a camera to document this historic ride but alas we have the memories...

After a few pleasantries, we saddled up our steads and headed towards the trails. As many of you know, I am a firm believer in the physical benefits of a nice easy warm up. That was not on JD's mind at at all!!! Kid came flying out of the gates and immediately put Daniel and myself in difficulty, Hollywood, of course, cool as the other side of the pillow peddled effortlessly on his sweet new rig.

By the time we hit the trail head, my lungs felt like they were bleeding. Cold air always seems to have that effect on me.

JD and Daniel proceeded to swap turns at front inflicting pain on everyone in their wake. It was truly a good hard ride and I am thankful that I was able to get out there. I, like many others, get tremendous satisfaction from suffering through tough patches and recovering to endure another onslaught of pain.

We were able to sneak in just under 3 hours when it was all said and done. Hollywood in true form busted out the Rock and Republic jeans for his post ride digs...I opted with track pants by stark comparision.

To Hollywood, fond farewell and best of luck to you in the west. I am truly jealous of the riding and the experiences that await you. I wish you all the best.

Ben

Double-O CX: A Quantum of Sandpit

Just as James Bond has a license to kill, Coreys Haim and Feldman have a license to drive, and Billy Ocean has a license to chill (revoked in 1989), BCC agents Linus O-.G. and Chris O. have a license to race bicycles.

To honor these licenses, we headed down to Southern Pines on a super secret cyclocross mission. A number of other racers in the NC series apparently chose not to accept this mission (in favor of the Blacksburg, VA race, the New Jersey UCI race, or sitting on their butts back at BCC World Headquarters). Nevertheless, there the race went on with plenty of fast dudes and plenty of challenges on the course. Southern Pines is in NC's sandhills region which, while not very hilly, is very sandy. The promoters always put together a nice race on the campus of Sandhills Community College (who are kind enough to let us use the restrooms in the student center, rather than accursed porta-johns), winding across a flat grass field and parking lot. This is all well and good, but the real trouble comes when we enter the woods; a descent with quick switchbacks through deep sand, followed by a long, sandy run-up.

Call me crazy, but there isn't enough running in bike racing. Watch the Euros, or races in the US where it rains a lot. The conditions get nasty and riders are forced to run. Here in NC, we are blessed/cursed with ild wintertime weather, meaning that while we don't freeze our fingers and toes off, we don't get ridicuolus mud. I think that this should encourage race course designers to find some wacky feature that forces riders to run with their bikes for a while, but this typically only happens up the dam in Cary and up the sandhill in So-Pines.

But this is all just theory and philosophical musing of what makes a great cyclocross course. In reality, these run-ups suck. They hurt like hell. The are motivational killers because you not only feel like you're moving so slowly, but when you finally get back on the bike, you try to pedal and you have zero power. Ooof.

Linus always gets great starts, quickly settling into fourth position. This appeared to be a big help, because there were few places to pass on the serpentine infield and there were huge bottlenecks once the pack hit the sand. Avoiding these pitfalls, Linus settled nicely into his rhythm, rode cleanly and smoothly, and held off a late charge from some dude to finish 11th. He seemed a little bummed he was just out of the top 10, but a fine result. He rewarded himself on the drive home by buying a beef stick at a gas station. I thought it looked nasty, but he seemed satisfied.

My race was a strange one. Only 7 riders, all of whom had beaten me in previous races. However, I had beaten at least one of them when they were sick or had mechanicals. And while I would not wish ill upon one of my competitors, racing is an opportunistic endavor--when someone is having a bad day, someone else gets to step up. If I could finish, I was assured one of the highest-placed finishes of my CX-1-2 career, not to mention some cashmoney. However, could I avoid a last place finish? I got off to what's becoming my trademark slow start (initiated in racing singlespeed against the mostly geared collegiate men), as to avoid getting in the way of dudes that were clearly faster than me. My body seems to respond better when I start conservatively, holding wheels and not trying to jump past people in the first few minutes. This worked out pretty well as one, then two dudes kinda popped. I followed the wheel of Scott, an Inland rider, for a couple of laps until he gapped me and was on his merry way. I was feeling pretty okay and had a fairly sizable lead ahead of the 6th place guy, trying to ride quickly without taking any silly risks. The final lap presented a late surge from Aaron (the aforementioned 6th place guy), so I had to dig a bit deeper to fend him off. So while there is a big asterisk after this fifth place (my highest finish in a CX-1-2 race ever), it is still one of my most proud third-to-last place finishes.

the other side of cyclocross

Regulation cyclocross barriers are short and easy to jump over. A wall of foam on the other hand...

(photo swiped from HTATBL)

There's World Cup cyclocross and crazy-ass SSCXWC. Some things can be both darker and more sinister and brighter and sweeter at the same time. It's what I picture when my friend talks about more enemy rainbows. Beware. I wasn't at either of these, but probably should have been invited to both. I need to re-negotiate my contract.

Cyclocross in the Times

Jump the barrier? Jump the shark? Does it matter? Cyclocross.

Bicycle sharing programs take off

The popularity of bicycle sharing programs is growing in European capitals. Coming soon to Chicago, Boston, and New York. Is Durham next?

Transfer rumors

We're still waiting for confirmation here at BCC HQ, but word on the "street" is that Hollywood is moving over to Rock Racing next season. Here to stay? Doesn't sound like it.

daily math #n+1

zero posts = zero awesomeness
zero awesomeness = zero giant beers

it's time to get this team back on the program. otherwise we might as well all quit and join the franklin street bike team.

daily math

Plug this one into your T.I.-81:

the end of daylight savings
+
rain
=
indoor trainer time

and ample empirical evidence has proven that,

indoor trainer time
=
boring

however, given that in Standardized Boredom Units (SBU),

free european cyclocross videos<<

we can conclude that

indoor trainer time * free european cyclocross video downloads
=
pretty fun

Let's call this one Spear's Theorem (Nathan, not Britney--see the link). Yes, in fact this guy has uploaded a bunch of broadcasts from Belgian tv. Once you register, you can watch them for free. Has he done this with expressed written consent of major league cyclocross? Who knows. Does it help to alleviate seasonal training disorder? heck yeah.

p. s.
vote.

Rutland remembered

The plan for last Saturday's ride was simple enough on paper: jump in the car early; meet up with Jeff and Chris, a couple new folks from the interwebs, and Brian (my tour guide for the SMBA trails and the Grafton-Pittstown extravaganza); zip over to Rutland, VT; get in a couple of hours on the Pine Hill Park trails; then head back to the Empire State and be done with things by two in the afternoon. Easy, schmeezy. I hadn't been out on the mountain bike -- or any bike -- much in the last month, but with snow in the forecast I figured I should take my non-frostbitten rides where I could.

There were a couple harbingers of doom -- Chris reported cougar sightings in the area and Brian had his car rearranged by his toddler on the way to meet us -- but as we pulled into the parking lot in Rutland and geared up, the rain from earlier in the morning was slackening and things were looking good. Brian decided to start things out with a bang and while poking around the park's activities building tripped a loud alarm. Not to be daunted by the closed door, the chain across said door, and the lights off, his attempt to sneak into the facilities was met with a sphincter-constricting FAIL. Rather than wait around to chat it up with Rutland's finest, we decided to hit the trail.

And it was a good thing that we did: any time missed on these trails is time wasted (and especially so if it's spent explaining to the authorities how ya just hadta go, ya know?). We started out on some flowy, techy trails on the lower section, complete with decent little freeride drop. Being the stunt expert that I am, I volunteered to film Brian as he launched the smooth transition.

Here's a still shot of Chris sizing up the rocks and then Brian making it look old hat. (Clicking on the pics will make them bigger. 'Playing' the videos will, well, play them.)



This was just the beginning of a trail system that represents untold labor hours in its creation and maintenance. It was really rather amazing, as the many of the trails had the ample rocks pushed from the middle of the trail to the sides, not only making things faster, but making for an easy path to follow through the leaf-strewn woods. In other places there were rather elaborate rocks playgrounds, and everything was clearly cut and well-marked. There were a number of criss-crossing trails, and we were happy to leave the navigation up to Jeff, who whipped his map out regularly to plot the best path.

After a short (for the region) carriage road climb (read: rock-strewn double-track bent on shaking your fillings loose) to the upper side of the park the fun really began, with some of the slow speed maneuvers from below replaced with fast, berm-filled, "grip it and rip it" fun. I didn't stop to take pictures of this because I was simply having too much fun, but if I can ever convince you NCers to trek north on two wheels I'll want us to go here: the trails were fast, techy, scenic, with a wide variety of terrain and a great use of space. No complaints, except maybe wishing that they were a little closer.

But as great as the trails were, they were not without their quirks. Exhibit one: an enormous suspension bridge in the middle of the trail that crossed what was little more than a wet seep. This thing was an impressive feat of engineering, with four huge anchor posts, treated lumber decking, and a totally-legit suspension setup. Much as we couldn't quite figure why bother, we did have fun playing around on it. Here's a couple of videos of us playing around on the swaying wonder:





There are also some rather interesting trail names, and I have to admit that I chuckled every time we took a turn down the Droopy Muffin. (I'm not sure if Brian thought so too, of if he was just humoring me in this photo.)

However, it was while drooping the muffin that we had our first problem, when Jeff realized that the creaking that he thought was coming from his seatpost was actually a cracked frame. In an attempt to keep the crack at the toptube-seattube from getting any larger he shoved his seatpost all the way down in the frame and rode BMXican style for the rest of the day. He may have sat down a couple of times, but I didn't see it, and instead was happy to pedal huckster style around on his bouncing bike.

A little later we ran across what is certainly one of the weirdest things I've seen while on the trail: a collection of hanging rocks, rock pyres, and weird things made out of branches that would have been more at home on the set of the Blair Witch Project than interrupting my ride. I would have stopped to take a few pictures, but it was really a little creepy.

Not incoincidentally, a few seconds down the trail I got a flat. The curse of the witch you think? No, you say? Well, then what do you say when I mention that the valve core pulled out of my spare tube after I got it pumped up? What if it happened again? Still not convinced? What if I told you that the witch (possibly in the form of Jeff) also stole Chris's brains around this time? (Sweartagawd.) Clearly, the place is cursed and should be avoided when you ride the trail. Alas, I couldn't tell you where it was.

The tire issues and the lack of cognitive abilities led us down the trail and back to the truck after one more rip down a trail aptly named Halfpipe. At the parking lot the clock on the wall said 2 o'clock. (Last call. For alcohol.*) For those of you keeping track at home that's when we'd planned on being home, but we were in the wrong state, in need of food, and still lacking Chris's grey matter. So we stopped in to a local pizza joint to top off our cholesterol reserves and prepare for a quick trip home.

The road home was, well, interesting. Not only did I learn about the vicious cougar attacks of ought-eight, but I also came home with a much broader picture of the Upstate riding scene, including -- but not limited to -- the following**:

• Their fondness for reminiscing about kicking Spiderman's ass.
• A hatred for the mullet.
• Nothing is ever "at altitude," because everything is "at altitude." (Dammit!)
  
• It is in fact possible to be too messed up to go to a junkyard.

Heard on the trail or the ride:

• "I'd take that [stuff] and I'd eat it."
• "Well, I am a dirty boy."
• "I like to meet new people. And watch them eat. I mean, see them eat. I mean, see what they eat. Nevermind."
• "I think there were four generations in that house. And an airmattress. I dunno, it was weird."
• "You know, vodka out of a plastic bottle and hawaiian punch gatoraid really isn't bad when it's mixed for you by and old lady and given to you after a long ride. And has roofies in it."

I think that's all of the PG-13 stuff we have.

Needless to say it was a great day. Maybe without the pain of the Grafton-Pittstown epic that left Brian with a broken shoulder, and possibly more expensive when you figure in the broken Yeti, but still good times. Sure our quick morning jaunt turned into an all-day affair, and maybe when we got back to town Chris and I had had our cars towed, but it was totally worth it, if only for ten minutes spent on the Droopy Muffin, and maybe a few more on Halfpipe.

I'm not sure when we will get out again, as there's snow in the forecast (they said that you can bike comfortably down into the 20s, but I'm not believing it), but at the very least we got in one last good ride before we turn to dogsledding or curling or whateverthahell else they do here for fun in the winter. Keep on keepin' on down in the NC.

One for the way out:


*I know that this clip takes you to a song where the quote is "The clock on the wall said quarter to midnight" and not "two o'clock," but I can't in good conscience link to the George Thoroughgood version where he changes it to the latter. So instead you get an inconsistency, but at least one with soul.
**All of the below are taken from my extremely suspect memory of the events and then painted liberally with a brush of Guinness-forgetfulness masquerading as poetic license.

NCCX #3: Boone

Whilst the majority of the team was doing an awesome job at the Second Empire 5k, BCC's special teams cyclocross unit headed west to Boone.

Barriers, beer gardens, and Bull City Cycling. This is what cyclocross is all about. The Boone guys put on a great race with a challenging course at a cool venue, two beer gardens, and a dj who was kicking tunes ranging from Stevie Wonder to Sonic Youth to Madonna to Gang of Four. Linus woke up with nasty congestion and a cough and prepared for the race with coffee, Bojangle's biscuits, and his special super secret PowerSauce. I don't want to give away his secret, but I'll just say that the label said it may result in "dizziness" and "awesomeness". Given the fact that his ailment inhibited breathing and given the fact that breathing is an important part of cycling as well as living, Linus put in a strong effort. Recent rain added a little mud to the course and damp grass combined with a strong headwind really sucked the power out of us on long straightaways. 

Linus and I drove up with Durham's own mtb bandit, Jay, the fasted guy on 26" wheels. 

Jay once again proved that expensive cyclocross bikes are not necessary for a top-ten finish. 

I, on the other hand, wanted to use my needlessly expensive, but much beloved cyclocross bike to redeem my poor result from last Sunday. As you may recall, I rolled a tire on a steep descent, so I bought some new glue (Vittoria mastic) and glued the hell out of my tires and crossed my fingers. The finger-crossing was put to the test, given a really tricky off-camber, precariously-rooted section of the Boone course. The tires held as I made up for my slow start by picking-off riders throughout the hour. 

Initial results said I was in 10th, but looking at the website today, it has me in 11th. I'm not sure what that's all about (I'm not sure what the truth is), but I do apologize to the real 10th place person--I took your prize money. Payout went 12 deep, and since 10th place only got $15, my guess is that I owe someone $5. Or a giant beer.