Crouching Squirrel Hidden Monkey

Eso Blogo es Muerto

2008-12-07T14:51:00.000-08:00

Not much going on here huh ? I originally started this blog to talk about biking and racing and training and other outdoor adventures. But since I don't train or race seriously anymore, general adventure stuff can just go in my other blog. So as a parting shot, here's my conclusions and analyses from this year.

Well let me just say that it was quite enjoyable not spending any time on intervals this year ! They had their time and place, and for about 4 years I got into it, meticulously recording my times and results, wearing a heart-rate monitor at all times, and even masochistically enjoying the pain they inflicted. So this year it was such a relief to just go out and ride ! Spent more time on the mountain bike too.

But I can also say that intervals do make you faster, just not in the way I expected. Since I mostly did them on flat or slightly inclined roads, I figured they must make me faster in mountain bike races that have little elevation gain - wrong ! The first few races I did this year did not have much climbing (Chainbreaker, Picketts), and whaddya know, with no training, I was still getting about the same results as the last few years with tons of training. Well, me thinks, training is for chumps ! But then came the races with lots of climbing, like Falls City and Jedi, and on these I was way behind what I could usually muster in previous years. I even used to think I was a 'natural climber' since I always kicked ass on climbs but never trained for it specifically. So yeah the conclusion is (without a *lot* of data I admit), that those flat-land hard intervals make you a better climber.

Let's see, in other biking-related news, man there's a lot of idiots out on the trails who have no clue about etiquette. If there's one rule that's easy to remember, even with limited brain-capacity, it's that 'uphill riders have the right of way'. You're riding down, someone is riding up, you're on narrow singletrack, you stop and pull over. No you do not try and squeeze by, just stop your bike and pull over. I've been hit twice this year by dorks who barely slow down and try to go around me. I think I will start keeping my elbows up, hopefully a good clean shot to the trachea will put them out of commission for a while and make them learn some manners. Yee-hah!

Oh, one last thing, I 'invented' this cool routine to prevent 'going to the gym' boredom. In past years, I've done gym work during the winter to get ready for biking season - like lift weights and do machine work - but I always got real tired of it after a few months, and was glad to abandon it once the weather was good enough to get back on the bike. This year I decided to keep going to the gym once a week even in the summer, just to use different muscles. Sometimes it was only once every ten days... and then I was going to drop it altogether as it grew tiresome. But then I decided to try something totally different : do as many different exercises as I could in less than 1 hour, maximum 2 sets per exercise, 12-15 reps, and alternate leg-work with upper body work. In the middle of the 2 sets, you go and setup for the next exercise, so you're never just sitting around. Then every week or so, you swap out 1 or more exercises for different ones, so you never get bored. It's kind of in between circuit training and regular weight training. Anyways, works for me - been doing it for about 4 months, about 3 times per week. What's it good for ? Not really sure yet....

MRT - ation

2008-09-29T09:44:00.001-07:00

We're talking today with Cajun Mountain Bike Man, who recently moved up here from the Southern Bayou tribal areas.

So Cajun Man, I understand you've been doing quite a bit of biking around here, and yesterday you did the MRT (Mackenzie River Trail). That's quite a long trail...did you get an early start ? How was the drive over there ?
"Frustration"
Why, what caused that ?
"Defecation imposition"
Ah, I see, a call of nature while you were driving there. So did you pull over at a rest-stop?
"Construction, renovation!"
Oh they were doing some work on the rest-stop so it was closed...how long did you have to wait until the next one ?
"Destination"
Not until you got there, huh. Well I guess it was finally good to get that out of your system.
"Putrification, satisfaction"
Yes those porta-potties can be stinky.
Well, tell us about the trail - did you shuttle it and ride from the top ?
"Repetition"
Wow you did an out-of-back, impressive. How did you feel afterwards ?
"Regurgitation, hallucination"
Tired, huh. Well how was the drive back, more comfortable this time ?
"Exasperation"
Again ? What happened this time ?
"Pollution, procrastination"
Let me guess, you got stuck behind slow-moving trucks and other slow drivers. Well how do you deal with that ?
"Assassination!"
C'mon Cajun Man, you can't be serious...?
"Fabrication..."
Ok well you had me worried there for a second. What did you do when you got home ?
"Inebriation"
Sounds typical. Good talking to you Cajun Man, looking forward to your next adventure.
"Sensation! Confrontation! Miscalculation..."
Yes I'm sure it will be exciting...

Raging against machines

2008-09-16T09:08:00.000-07:00

Interesting ongoing article about bikes vs cars road rage :

http://www.velonews.com/article/83093/legally-speaking-with-bob-mionske---more-rage

Incidents are often triggered by one party trying to teach the other a lesson to pay for their transgression. For example a car buzzing a cyclist after the driver perceived the cyclist breaking some road rule. Previously, I would confront the driver aggressively, give them the finger, etc. But this usually only serves to continue the cycle of violence, escalating the aggression of the disturbed individual, and perhaps causing them to act even more violently against other cyclists. This type of response could be deemed selfish then, in that it makes you feel better for letting off steam, but endangers other cyclists in the long run. But then is a completely passive response the best option for society as a whole ? Won't the sick freak persist in endangering others, and therefore might it be somehow your duty to mitigate the dangers of this behaviour ? Well it's not your job to provide psychiatric treatment, so inaction is possibly the best thing, in that it is better for cyclists as a whole. Just hope the cops will nail the person for some other act which they commit due to the dark evil processes swirling around in their diseased brain. But now how to you dissipate that feeling that someone has 'gotten the better of you', if in fact you choose the selfless response of inaction ? Well the article describes how not letting the dark side take hold of you and escalating the conflict with a violent response, is in fact a victory. Here's some quotes :

My goal is to stay in control of my emotions. When a bad driver cuts me off because he is not paying attention or checking his mirrors, I am able to stay cool. Let someone else ‘teach him a lesson’-whatever I have to tell myself to get through those first critical moments without reacting. In those cases where it seems the bad and dangerous driving was intentionally directed at me-it is very difficult for me to control my knee jerk response to retaliate immediately. It feels like I am ‘giving in’ or in some other way ‘losing’. In order to change my reaction I had to change my perspective. If I lose my temper and escalate an antagonistic situation- what I am really doing is losing control. I try to equate losing my temper with being defeated, with ‘losing’. For me this is often enough to deter my dark side from emerging.

This kind of reframing of our interpretation and reaction to another is exactly what Dr. James recommends as a way of escaping the road rage trap—a trap that begins when we are endangered by another person, particularly when that endangerment is followed by an insult. At that moment, we are vulnerable to what Dr. James refers to as an “emotional hijacking,” with our rational mind being overwhelmed by our emotional limbic brain. The trick to be learned is to reduce your anger by reappraising the situation:

“Despite the seductive persuasiveness of self-righteous justification, you can compel yourself to reframe the anger-provoking event. Emotional intelligence provides you with an understanding of how anger escalates, how venting keeps it going, and how to deflate it through rational counterarguments. Negative emotions slowly dissipate as you force yourself to think positively and expect positive outcomes. The power of positive thinking lies in its ability to attract positive emotions such as empathy and forgiveness. These interpersonal and cooperative emotions in turn facilitate reappraisal of the anger-provoking event.”

Although there are immediate personal benefits to be gained by cultivating one’s “emotional intelligence”—a reduced likelihood of road rage escalation—there are other, long-term gains, both personal and social that are perhaps even more important. At the personal level, anger sustained over long periods has severe deleterious effects on our health; cultivating emotional intelligence helps us to let go of that anger, and thus, to avoid the negative impacts it would otherwise have on our health. At the social level, the gains are nothing less than the transformation of our driving culture—and with it, our cycling environment—, one driver at a time, from one that is anti-social (aggressive driving) and negative (defensive driving) to one that is pro-social, cooperative, and supportive.

Team ride

2008-09-09T19:50:00.000-07:00

We rode our road bikes from Rob's house to Mount Bachelor - I had no idea there was 2700 vf of climbing involved, over 20 miles ! After 8 days of almost no exercise, it felt great to burn up the road - but I was feeling somewhat loopy at the top. There was the Big Yellow Bus Taxi waiting for us, with our mountain bikes inside - also inside were mountain bikers without road bikes.

Chasing the Ghost

2008-07-31T20:19:00.000-07:00

A summer evening's solo ride, and in the shadows of the twisty descent, a flicker of light did catch my eye. Somewhere on the trail ahead, amongst the silent stalking pines, a flash of white then quickly gone. A trick of the light, a peripheral aberration ? But no, I'd seen this ethereal presence before, no stranger to me this shadow - with mocking lightness he effortlessly appears and flits away, and dares me to follow. Still I denied it, and returned to the dull singular purpose of driving forward, all-focused on speed and reaction and tunnel vision. But then again I see it - no longer any doubt - the Ghost shows himself once more. The Spectre has appeared oft of late, and now I know his name : Fleeting Youth - yes the wellspring of ageless denial is now starting to run dry. No longer can I ignore the signs - the Ghost prances away carelessly, and my dry attempts at pursuit no longer bear fruit. He eludes me frequently now, this vision of eternal energy. Yet there's something in this admission, some wisdom in the acknowledgement...perhaps letting go is the path to enlightenment. We shall see...

Oakridge Boys

2008-07-28T22:35:00.001-07:00

We slogged up the Alpine access road for 15 miles and 6000 vertical feet, while shuttlers droned past us, probably taking as much time to arrange their vehicles as it did for us to climb. For most of the ascent a dense fog was draped upon us, with only occasional bursts of heatlamp sunshine.

Now, drenched with sweat and clouds, it was time for the glorious descent.

First came slow rolling grades and fields of bunchgrass

Then sustained, twisting, hand-fatigueing high-speed singletrack. Scant time for photo breaks here...

When it was done, a relaxing lunch-break, and then a seemingly endless discussion about how to properly finish the day. Some argued for shuttling a different downhill, others for calling it good and stuffing our faces with Foot-long's. Finally we settled on a short ride at Flat Creek, which the map showed was a 2.5 mile climb to good views, with an elevation gain of 1250 feet, which my tired brain calculated incorrectly as a moderate 5% grade. But of course it was really closer to 10%, and the steady steep climb in heat of the day nearly finished everyone off. The swooping downhill on the return leg re-energized us somewhat, and after that it was off to face-stuffing.

14 hours of Umpqua

2008-07-25T20:23:00.000-07:00

14.25 hours to be precise : that's how long it took us to ride the North Umpqua Trail in 1 day. It could have been shorter, but the notorious Sorensen Tire Jinx reared its ugly head yet again. In any case, victory was ours, and we accomplished the goal that was tossed around the campfire after our 2 day ride of the Umpqua last year.

MRT Slice

2008-07-05T10:16:00.000-07:00

Excellent ride on the MRT today. Buttery smooth conditions after a light drizzle, and still great grip on the lava rocks. Did an up-and-back from Deer Creek to Clear Lake. The Jet9 performed admirably : e.g. on the way back down through the twisty up-and-down lava section, I kept waiting for the tricky parts, staying totally focused so I could clean at all. But soon I was onto smooth trail again - hey, wtf happened to all those techy bits ?

What are you guys all smiling about ? No seriously, the riding wasn't that good was it ?

Never mind the Linkage, here's the Jet Pistol

2008-07-01T21:23:00.000-07:00

Dang, after 3 days on sub-par wheeled metal, when I launched you forth today, did not you respond with uncanny acceleration and groovy trail-hugging vibes ? Was not I giddy with pent-up excitement that vented itself so excellently via the conduit of your gracious design ? And tho I thought little of taking us to the top so expeditiously, did not we set new records ? Aye Crafty Steed, so we did.

Jedi Mountain Bike Festival

2008-07-01T21:15:00.000-07:00

I remember Cliff saying last year he wasn't planning on holding the 'Return on the Jedi' mountain bike race the following year, as turnout was low and it was too much work. But something changed his mind, because this year he and the Pistis crew went all out, providing 3 days of quality biking adventure in the Onion Mountain outback.

The setting for the venue was Sam Brown horse camp, a remote and uncrowded camping area that is reached from the Rogue River basin by traveling 13 miles up a winding single-lane road. Free camping and beautiful scenery - I think I've gone over this before in reports from the last 2 years.

The Pistis' (church related group who've gone especially nuts about mountain biking this year) set up the Blazing Saddles kitchen in the main pagoda, where they dispensed breakfast lunch and dinner from Thursday to Sunday : free for the volunteers, $5 a meal for the general racing public. 3 races were being held : a short track and SuperD on Saturday, and the main event - the grueling cross country race - on Sunday. Short track sees you spin around a short 1-mile loop of fire roads and single track, for as many laps as you can manage in the alloted time - usually around 45 minutes. SuperD is a cross-country downhill - nothing 2 technical - with a few climbs thrown in.

Leading up to the weekend, I had decided again to race the old (heavy) Giant. The fork for the Jet9 had been repaired, but with the suspect linkage, didn't want to have it break on the first of 3 days of riding and then be stuck with nothing to ride. But in a climbing course like the Jedi, with some 5500 vf of uphill, the Giant was going to be quite a bit slower - probably 10 or 15 minutes. Since I theoretically wouldn't be doing too well in the race, I figured may as well sign up for the short track and SuperD as well, since there was no sense in 'saving myself' for the XC race. Similarly, decided to do a ride on the way down on Friday, and probably another ride that evening, when would met up with the Sorenson's at the campground.

So hit Diamond Lake around noon on Friday, seeing there was a cool trail climbing up Mt. Bailey. A few thousand feet of gain, but probably wouldn't get that high due to snow and time restrictions. Sure enough, hit snow quite low down, but got in an enjoyable 1.5 hour exploratory ride.

Got to the race site campground late afternoon, had dinner and a couple of brews, and caught the shuttle to the top so we could do a practise run on the SuperD course. The top part of the course was all fireroads with loose rock - sketchy at high speeds - then it flattened out a bit, with a few climbs, then onto the twisty Jedi trail to the finish. Note to self : riding with a stomach full of spaghetti and beer is not a good idea.

Next morning, time for the short track. Cool little course, but sweltering heat abounds, and race gets delayed until it's baking at 11:30 am. People poke fun at my heavy bike, and in no time I'm in last place in the group of 15 or so. Feel gassed from the first climb, but end up not finishing dead last. So few participants, finish 3rd in my class and medal anyways. A few hours later, and it's downhill time. Another long slow ride up in the shuttle craft. Then a crazy Lemans running start and we're off. After the practise run yesterday, am feeling ballsy, and hammer it well down the sketchy rock roads, making it probably into the top 5. But then hit the flats ands subsequent up-gradient, and get swarmed by half-a-dozen climbers who blow past me and I never see again. Still, finish second in my class, and another medal. The great story is ChrisS and another guy who show up walking across the finish line an hour later, 3 flats and a broken chain between them.

Thunder and lighting make an appearance that night, but only a light sprinkle follows, so terrain still hot and dusty the next day (of course nothing like the real dust in Central OR). The main event is under way at 9am - still acceptable temps at this point. During the prologue loop - which winds its way through trails around the campground - including the famous deep creek crossings, I'm experiencing major sluggishness and overall fatigue, and I slow down and relax, knowing I'm going to be out here 3.5 hours anyways. Then start the 1 hour climb to the top - yep all systems are reporting efficiency levels way below normal - so at this point really stop racing, and decide to just enjoy the ride. ChrisS has gotten way ahead, climb for a bit with DerekF, but he too grows weary of my languid pace and soon moves on. Much later, I walk my bike up the last rocky bit to the top, and who do I see but ChrisS, engaged in what looks like major surgery on his bike. Apparently his Stan's has spewed forth, and he's trying to repair the subsequent evisceration. I stop and offer him tubes and air, but he's got enough of that (as opposed to yesterday, when he didn't have any :). So move in, thinking he'll probably catch me later once he's rolling.

I enjoy the awesome 3000 ft downhill, and resuscitate myself leisurely at the water station at the bottom. After this its only 1000ft of more climbing, onto the Jedi and done. I smirk disconsolately partway up the climb, as I see my elapsed time of 3 hours, 15 minutes, at which point I'd already crossed the finish line last year. Eventually get there, and I'm 33 minutes off last year's torrid pace ! Wow that's a big gap. I ponder how I could be so much slower, and arrive at a 'rule of 3rds' conclusion : 1/3 of it was because I was just whacked from all the riding and racing the previous 2 days, 1/3 was due to riding a bike that was 6 lbs heavier and less efficient, and the other 1/3 due to lack of training. There is some consolation that nobody in the expert class beat my time of 3:14 last year. And another amusing thing is somehow I'm only 1 point out of first place in the overall points classification for my class ! This is partly due to the Jedi being the State Champs race this year, which means double points. Too funny, considering I've missed a bunch of races this year, never been on the podium, etc.

But overall, a great weekend experience, and thanks to Pistis for going all out. They're even producing a DVD of the event : they had high-def video cams all over the place all weekend.
Almost forgot about another great episode of the ChrisS equipment malfunction saga : shortly after I saw him repairing his wheel, he finally got back on his bike, and then his carbon seat-post shattered, so he had to finish the race 'sans seat' - yikes ! And for extra good measure, he left the broken shards sticking out of the seat tube, just in case he had any misguided idea about trying to sit down after that. I'm telling you, these light-weight racing parts just ain't worth it ! :)

Cracked tooth blown fork race

2008-06-24T10:12:00.000-07:00

It was with some trepidation that I prepared for this year's Pickett's Charge race in Bend. My race bike was spending time in the shop, as its fork had been releasing copious amounts of oil, causing it to bottom out and otherwise generally malfunction. Additionally, there was a recall on part of the rear shock linkage, and it was recommended not to ride it until the manufacturors had remedied the situation. So I resurrected the old 31-pound Giant VT full suspension, and slapped some well-worn racing semi-slicks on to give it some decent acceleration (and consequent limited traction and braking). Seemed to work OK in test rides, though felt a mite skittish.
Then next bit of misery had to do with the teeth in my head, not on my chainrings. One had been paining me here and there for years, so finally decided to get some crown work done on it on Tuesday before the race. But this backfired, as it flaired up in major pain afterwards. Two more trips to the dentist that week, along with various prescriptions to kill the pain/inflamation. So cranky all week, and couldn't ride much as blood flow exacerbated the pain. Observed that increasing my alcohol intake to 4+ a night helped assuage the pain, however that probably wasn't going to make me any faster on Sunday. Then Saturday, after starting some new high dose adrenal inflammatory depressant drug, went to the gym to languidly move some pieces of metal around, and yanked something in my shoulder.
So started the race Sunday in pretty bad shape, with a bike I know is slower than my race bike, a throbbing toothache, and an ailing shoulder. But the upside of this is that I was totally relaxed, and didn't give a shit how I did.
The gun went off, and I nosed into the dust cloud created by the front pack. Actually the dust bowl effect wasn't that bad, having been mitigated somewhat by thundershowers the previous evening. The first of 2 20 mile laps went by rather quickly. Felt great and noticed my split time was good, even with the CIA technical section they added this year. Was having a blast - full suspension just plain makes racing more fun. Not much to report on this race : temps were great, no controversies, racers very courteous and allowing people to pass. Had a good surge at the end, and passed a couple people on the downhill, which is rare.

Things you can pull out of your dog's ass

2008-06-09T09:16:00.000-07:00

was just one of the many interesting dinner conversation topics at Chris's house the evening after the Firecracker race. I guess we were tired and strung out after a 2.5 hour race with 4500 vf of climbing. The course was brutal and fun, with an awesome downhill - continuous from top to bottom - and a steep slog back up to the top on singletrack. We had to do 4 laps of the fun/pain cycle. I didn't preride the downhill, so it was all a surprise on the first lap - especially the table-top with an unexpected steep runout, which cause me to land too front-heavy and go flying over the bars, towards an old-growth tree that didn't look like a soft impact. Managed to twist my body and only graze the big old conifer, resulting in upper and lower body scrapes. Otherwise, was fortunately OK, and back on the bike in less than 30 seconds after untwisting my handlebars and re-railing the chain. Hmm, I better setup the rebound correctly on my rear shock, as the the crash shouldn't have happened under normal circumstances.
The Crash made me a bit hesitant afterwards, as lost confidence in my bike setup (I found out later something was wrong with my fork, as it was bottoming out on any sharp hit). Caught up to the people who passed me while I was down on next climb. But then for the next 2 laps got in this annoying cycle where people who were climbing faster than me passed me 2/3 of the way up the climb, then I would get stuck behind them and their feeble downhill skills for half the descent, virtually twiddling my thumbs waiting for a passing opportunity - there was no way to pass unless someone in front of you screwed up or crashed, as the downhill was continous narrow single track. This was the only failing of the course, and a critical one if you got caught behind the wrong people. I don't usually get pissed off or annoyed during a race, but I'll admit I was unhappy to not be getting full enjoyment out of the downhills. Losing time was secondary to loss of enjoyment :) Finally on last lap I had the downhill to myself and had smiley face syndrome, though was hard to hang onto the bars after 2.5 hours of racing. Actually almost missed the free ride, as a climber came up behind me just as I was entering the final downhill. Put over a minute on him on the final run - so the downhill times actually have some impact on final results, unlike most races. Ok enough whining :) Many people commented that I should have been more vocal, asking slower riders to pull over lest I run them over. Yeah maybe I try that next time - but these weren't like beginners, just slightly slower Experts, so not a big deal to me at the time. Anyways had I not crashed, I probably would have able to avoid being caught in the downhill slowdown cycle. Shit, are you still talking about this ? Shutup already !:) Now start working on slow-rider harpoon.

Official beer of the Kermit Green Jet9'ers

Post race hydration

Trail work next day

Post trail work hydration

Chainbreaker break

Mid ride log ring

Going Nowhere Fast

2008-05-29T08:34:00.000-07:00

The skies have been pissing down rain here for a week now. This is highly unusual, and most unwelcome. I haven't been out on my mountain bike for almost 2 weeks (insert short violin solo). Got a race coming up this weekend, so needed to get some workouts in.

On Wednesday, I decided to leave work at 5pm if it wasn't raining, and take my road bike up and down the Butte beside my house for some hill climb intervals. At 4:59 pm, went to the window to ascertain the weather situation : some dark clouds, but no rain, and the streets were drying out from earlier rain. At 5:01 pm, exited the building, and it was pouring down rain - WTH ? But the deluge was localized, with no rain at the house, so out I went. Several minutes later, rain. It proceeded to rain hard for the next hour, while I gamely pounded up the steep hills. My 'all-weather' booties soon filled up with water, and each foot gained an additional 5 pounds (glass half full : better workout, right ?). After 4 climbs, dragged my soaked self home. (Insert cartoonish pouring out of 20 gallons of water from each boot).

Thurday, serious rain all day. Had optimistically packed my mountain bike, but no way Jose was I heading out for a sad soaked muddy ride. Upon arriving home, decided to ride the trainer in the garage. This is for me a most unhappy proposition, as I can't stand riding in one spot for an hour or more, with no distractions save for pounding loud workout music. In fact, I never last more than an hour, ejecting myself jubilantly from the enslaving device at that point. But gotta endure it somehow - no other choice. I make up some over-under type workout, where go very hard for a minute or 2, then tone it down a bit for double that time, then rest for the sum of the hard parts. Soon I'm sweating from every pore, the liquid dripping in a steady stream all over the bike and the floor. Man, don't remember ever sweating this much. Every time I take my hands off the bar for a breather, and then replace them, the water squishes out of the half-gloves I'm wearing. Soon I've saturated every towel and other pieces of clothing, from siphoning the sweat from my oozing head. Am I working too hard ? My heart rate monitor broke a year ago, so no feedback beyond the raspy breathing and pounding in the chest.
When it's all over, head back into the house, and holy shit is it freezing in there! Check the thermometer - room temperature... ? Take a shower, head back into the garage, and it's like entering a blast furnace ! My workout must have raised the temp in the garage by 20 degrees ! (insert some vague idea about recapturing energy to save on heating costs...)

Bear Springs

2008-05-19T09:14:00.000-07:00

Team WebCyclery/Niner headed up to the race Sunday morning, with 3 full-suspension Niners in the bed of Dan's pickup. Rob and my kermit-green Jet9's were eager to demonstrate their prowess once more, after their initial testing in the Chainbreaker last weekend. Dan was hoping to redeem himself after an early exit from that race, due to a brutal crash that ensued after his pedal clipped a large unseen rock whereupon he catapulted over the bars and made contact with the ground head first. Actually wait, Rob needed some redemption as well, as a maladjusted seat-post height had caused massive leg cramping, resulting in him not finishing the race either. I was also somewhat apprehensive, as I wondered if the good showing I'd had on this new bike was a fluke. Today's race would be quite a bit harder, and the potential for debilitating cramps much higher. I had a secret weapon though maybe : rummaging through some old boxes full of various race gels and bars, I had found this sample tube of electrolyte replacement I'd picked up at some race last year. Mix with 32 oz of water it said, and enjoy increased performance and eternal happiness - or something to that effect. Of course it's one of the major taboos to never try anything new on race day, but it tasted ok, so in it went.

The race start was the usual cluster-fuck, with a steep rutted hike-a-bike right after we'd turned off the road into the singletrack. Dozens of racers rubbed shoulders scrambling up awkwardly in stiff biking shoes, and several end-arounds were possible with quick-thinking creative route finding skills - I observed ChrisS execute a couple of these, and jump ahead several spots. Many sections of snow confused the issue as well. Soon we were spread out somewhat on the rolling singletrack, which helped dissipate some of the adrenalin. Not too long afterwards we crossed back over our initial trajectory, to the cheers of the roaring crowd - well all 8 of them. Another steep doubletrack climb, which was going to be difficult to clean due to the throng ahead of me. Oops, there goes one sideways, with a domino effect taking out a couple of riders. A minor karfuffle ensued, with much use of sailor language and use of the bike as a wacking device. Cooler heads managed just to prevail, and I was able to scoot around a large clot of walkers/wankers/wackers. Saw DanW ahead, but only briefly as he dropped his chain near the top (add foreshadowing music here:).

The singletrack was a blast, and the Jet9 was eating it up nicely. Got to the long talus field section, replete with large jagged rocks, and was hoping to drive the dually through there to see if I could make it. However a large group of riders just ahead had all dismounted it and were walking it, so I followed suit. Near the end of the section, some 'hero' came behind me still on his bike (or had just gotten back on) and attempted to call us to move over so he could ride through. Uh sorry buddy, when you see a big crowd like this in front of you walking, you've got to walk too. He attempted to ram through anyways, his tire catching the back of my leg. Ok, that's it, I turned around and popped him in the face. Just kidding :) well hopefully he got the message when we didn't all jump aside.

After a great downhill we hit a longish fireroad climb, and I saw the other Jet9 - with RobU aboard - just up ahead. Caught up to him, and that little extra effort seemed to initiate the nauseousness that dogged me for the rest of the race. Coulda been the new Electrolytes, or perhaps the 5 beers I'd consumed the night before. But overall felt great, even with the temps in the high 80's. Had been slurping go-juice at an accelerated rate all day, and sucking back more gels than usual, all in the hope of warding off the big 'C'. And mostly that seemed to work. Also noticed that riding a full suspension just makes a race more fun - I mean it was fun on the old DosNiner as well, as that thing sliced and diced it at a pretty high level - but this here ol' Jet9 just cranks it up to 11 mates !

Catch up to SpencerS, and am I hallucinating or are the cicadas just going insane around here ? No - it's Spence's Juicy7's with extra squeal appeal. Man those things are deafening ! After 10 minutes or so of languishing in his screech trail, I overtake him to put it all behind me, but he latches onto my pace and the painful high frequency sonic bath continues. RobU is also hanging with us, enjoying the sounds of nature too.

The race is almost over - or is it ? With all the corkscrew wacky windings of this crazy course, it's really hard to tell. They lopped off a few miles this year due to snow, so I'm figuring about 2.5 hours total - only half an hour to go. Usually this is a most excrutiating 30 minutes, and this year is no exception. At the start we had been warned that water levels are unusually high due to melting snow, and this will only be exacerbated by afternoon runoff with today's blazing sun. We hit the section with multiple dismounts and wading through water, and the cramps start hitting hard. I start whining/muttering about it aloud, and am comforted to hear the same stream of complaints from others in the vicinity. Am still hanging with Spence and Rob, and we get to watch each other crash spasmodically on the wet roots, and then try to remount with cramp-stiffened legs. Some of the sections are just crazy obstacle courses, with a couple of feet of icy cold stream water (actually felt real good on the throbbing swelling sore hot feet), interspersed with log sections that had been placed for us to hop on (and slide spectacularly off of:).

Now comes the steep climb out of the marshy madness, and as usual you can find pockets of exhausted riders taking a breather - maybe these are beginner or sport class riders - leaning on trees, massaging unresponsive limbs, etc. Around 10 minutes to go I announce, and Rob and I push ahead. I have sucked my Camelbak dry a few minutes before this, and hope I'm right. Soon enough the canal bank approaches, and then the ensuing road back up to the finish. Rob and I see no one behind us, and the Jet9's cruise to the finish together. Why such amicability ? Well we're in different age groups, otherwise @$%@$*%! :) No photographers are around to witness history in the making, but at least you've got me to tell you this here story. Another awesome Bear Springs - a truly classic single track battleground.

P.S. : now what of that mentioning of foreshadowing earlier on ? Well we see DanW at the finish, already changed from his biking attire... wtf did he go flying past us while we had our heads down commiserating in cramp-land ? Nope, chain-sucking and chain-dropping woes finally caused him to abandon ship - better luck next time Dano! But at least Team-Full-Susser-Niner gets 2 out of 3 finishes today, an improvement over the 1 for 3 last weekend.

Chainbreaker

2008-05-18T21:43:00.001-07:00

Another dusty CB ? Showers were promised but not delivered.... but it wasn't too bad. And had the new Jet9 frame to try out, as the parts from my DosNiner had been tranferred over earlier in the week. Well this bike plain rocked - felt totally at home with the cockpit set up the same, and the buttery smooth ride even resulted in a 2-lap time that was less than 20 seconds off last years pace ! Wtf ? This non-training regimen might actually work ? Well, I think if I'd had to go another mile I might have collapsed, as all muscles went into rigor-mortis mode a few minutes after the race while I was spinning it out trying to de-lactic-acidate. Tried to drink a ton to ward off the crampies, and it worked for the most part, but with the cool temps couldn't assimilate much liquid - it started getting all sloshy in my stomachy - and had to reduce intake. Came across the line with over 20oz left, an annoying weight to have had to carry along the whole ride. But felt great - a little bit weary in middle of 2nd lap, and got passed a bit, but had a great finishing kick and passed a minor nemisis with less than 1k to go, who had called me out at some race last year, and thus is satisfying to beat.

Racing season is back...

2008-05-12T14:51:00.000-07:00

Hohum... Time for the Ashland Spring Thaw. Actually this is usually a fun time - see people you haven't seen in a while, nice weather, etc. Decided to make a weekend of it, head over Fri nite, race Sat, and ride somewhere Sun.

[Hmm a week later and I still haven't finished this... writing about racing is now tiresome - it's the same old shit over and over. The races are still a blast, but the stories starting to repeat]
Anyhow I camped out Fri nite at my usual spot - well, been there once before - at the top of the pass on Route 66 between Klamath Falls and Ashland. The mega snow pack made me think I'd be camping on snow - and sure enough when hit the turn off at 10:30 pm or so, there were banks on either side of the dirt road that leads to the reservoir. They apparently plow it though, so kept going to see what I'd find. Well, tons of fishing cabins and other signs of habitation. Found a pullout on the West side of the fake lake on the other side of the road - spotted a somewhat dry and fairly even patch of ground up in the woods a bit, and setup the tent. It got cold quick, but had time to quaff a beer and play a little guitar under the stars.
During the night was serenaded by various wild bird sounds, especially at dawn when the waterfowl went nuts. Headed for race by 7am, and got there in time to get to the free parking slots. Awesome day shaping up as got ready for the early 9am slot.

As mentioned many days earlier, course reroute due to snowpack - so 2 laps of shortened course. Sounded a bit lame, but this was the best version yet, as got to do the awesome singletrack descent twice. 2200 feet of climbing up the fireroad each time was somewhat labourious, but worth it.

Was eager to see how I would fare with my new training regimen, or lack thereof. Sure enough, started to cramp on the 2nd lap, and had to go into survival mode on the climb. Still able to enjoy 2nd downhill though. I dropped into the bottom 3rd of the class, oh well.

So yeah my new training idea is to not do any training, which was growing tiresome. Unwilling to increase training time, in an attempt to compete for podium spots in the difficult Expert 40+ class, I decided to do no training, to see what this would feel like. Well, so far it feels like cramps ! The racing is just as intense - I go all out - but did not have much finishing kick. But it's not like I sit around on the potato, eating couches and playing video games - I'm still riding a bunch and getting in 8-10 hours of miscellaneous exercise a week. Just no weeks and weeks of doing intervals, sprints and whatnots. Well, I did do some intervals up Pilot Butte last week, like I do often during the year to measure fitness, and my times were down almost 8% from last year, which is quite a chunk of time if you extrapolate it over a 2 hour race - 10 minutes or so. I figured last year b4 Spring Thaw I'd put in 26 training days of long rides and intervals, and this year did about 6, of which 3 were kind of half-assed.

The post race raffle was annoying as didn't win anything, so felt like a loser. They had enough prizes to give everybody something, but often threw 3 or 4 prizes into 1, and then put even the winners back into the main draw for the grand prize bike frame.

Was hoping to hang in Ashland overnight, hit the Biker's Bash and maybe go riding somewhere the next day - but no plan developed, and going to ChrisS's house for dinner seemed like a better plan - so did that, and had a great ride the next day at Brice Creek - though the intense climbing did sear my legs good.

Boring

2008-04-22T12:24:00.000-07:00

Not much happening on this blog. But someone told me it got linked into some other sites, so I guess I should write something. In any case writing about biking has grown tiresome... It's more fun to actually do it of course. Kinda like masturbation vs sex I guess.

This morning, did a nice 15K ride.... on snow ! Yep the skiings still great but biking is sucking bad. But I realize that even a mediocre day on snow is still better than road biking. So I wouldn't mind actually skiing year round, as long as the snow wasn't present in the lower altitudes on the mountain bike trails.

Glad I'm not training for bike racing this year, otherwise I'd be majorly stressed out. Intervals on the road bike in 30-40F weather - yuk. Some mountain bike races have gotten postponed due to the extremely deep snow pack this year. The Spring Thaw happens in a week and a half, and in normal years there's usually some snow in the higher trails. This year they're going to have to reroute - I bet it's 6-feet deep up there now. I don't feel like doing this race, but according to my contract, I guess I have to :) Hmm, the things I have to do to get shop discounts, the savings of which get negated anyways by travel expenses to races...

Stop!

2008-02-02T12:24:00.000-08:00

Stop with the snowing already - I've had enough ! Yes that was me back in early December, doing the snow dance at the SnowPark when we had a 1" base. I'm sorry, I won't wish for so much snow next time, I just got carried away. If this keeps up, the bike trails won't melt out until July ! Please stop it - I'm starting to feel the stirrings of Snow Madness.

Ice Ride

2008-01-17T14:43:00.000-08:00

Since I mentioned biking season was over last post, and it was time to talk about ski adventures, what do you know I end up going for my first bike ride today in months.

I was getting an oil change on my car at lunch, so I decided to pack my bike, and go for a short ride while the work was getting done. The bike of choice of course is the IceJammer - hardtail with studded tires. I guessed there might be a few icy patches on the nearby Deschutes River Trail, so decided to check it out and see how the tires gripped. On the way there, encountered several frozen mini-ponds (in between a puddle and a pond), and on these flat icy surface the tires gripped well. Then hit a steep icy pot-holed climb, and made it up that too.

Got to the trail, and my eyes lit up at the huge expanses of solid ice. This was high quality ice too - a thick hard transparent layer. We had some heavy snow recently, then a thaw where everything got wet and slushy, and then a deep freeze. This was the kind of ice that ice climbers love. A very uneven surface too - pockmarked with frozen footprints.

Was railing along quite happily, the tires only slipping briefly every now and then, when came to the first long steep climb - a granny gear grunt-up. Amazingly, was climbing up this with minimal slippage. Right near the top was a little step up, where you have to torque the pedals pretty hard to get over it, and sometimes get off the seat a bit and transfer your weight forward. Since was already probably at the grip limits of the tires, decided to step off here, or risk a nasty clumsy spill on the ice. But as soon as my foot (clad in hiking boots), touched the ground (solid ice), down I went with painful suddenness, and started sliding down the incline along with the bike. Tried to get up a couple of times, but there was virtually zero grip on this slick solid ice. Now bruised and not so brash, I managed to make it up the hill by bushwacking up to the side of the trail. I guess if you've got studs on your tires, you need them on your boots too !

Hit a few sketchy downhill ice sections - these are really nerve racking, as any braking force has to be applied ever so slightly, lest the wheels lock up and go sideways. Studs work great as long as the tire is rolling - but when motionless, maybe only a couple of studs are gripping.

So now I need to buy studded boots and maybe studded gloves too. Hell, a studded body suit would probably be best ! Or I could just wait until Spring until I hit the trails again.

End of the Year Address

2007-12-28T08:34:00.000-08:00

Wow a lot of shit has happened, and I have been remiss in writing about it here. Another great mountain bike season has ended (sniff), with many epic rides and experiences. I'm not going to bother putting any of it down here - it will remain in the deep recesses of my mind - and maybe on my deathbed you will hear me babbling about some rock that pinched my tire and launched me over the bars, or the butterfly I was observing when I rammed into a tree. In any case, here's a few random observations :

Racing : I was thinking about getting hardcore about racing this year : increase training time, maybe hire a coach, etc. Since I was often only 5-10 minutes behind the fastest guys in a 2 hour+ race, I figured I could be contending for top spot with an increased training regimen. But sometime this year I decided this would be too much work and a waste of that precious resource called 'time', and that just assuming that I could be the fastest if I did all that extra crap was good enough. So after the initial spring/early summer races, I just rode for fun the rest of the year. And that's what I plan to do next year. Of course if my ass gets kicked frequently and hard, I will be rather pissed, and probably my race participation will dwindle. But now I feel like doing longer endurance races anyways, rather than the 2-2.5 hour typical XC race. Yeah, 100-milers might be fun. Maybe some multi-day stage races.

I had several more insightful observations, but can't remember any of them at this point. Anyways, biking season has been over for a while - time to talk about snow!

Genius

2007-11-04T11:35:00.001-08:00

Sometimes I feel I have achieved a stroke of genius - but usually I have really only temporarily lifted the blinders of stupidity.

Lycra vs. Lava

2007-09-25T22:49:00.000-07:00

And the winner is... Lava !

Ya gotta respect the lava. It is unyielding, spiky, dangerous stuff. I've heard many lava pain stories, involving cracked bones and shredded tendons. So as I was grinding up one of the lava field climbs, and the way through began narrowing, the fear of flesh-ripping should I lose momentum and tip over caused me to unclip a foot as I neared the top corner. On the other side, a short slope descending into much smoother stuff. So I pushed off, planning to clip back in after I'd rolled the last bit of lava chunks. And then without warning, my front wheel jammed into a depression between two rocks, and I began a slow but certain pivoting over that front wheel, powerless to stop it as one foot was still clipped in. All I could do was brace for impact, as my body arced over the front and slammed hard into the even harder surface.

Several intense points of pain as I untangled myself from the bike. Right knee gashed nicely on the outside - not too much blood, but a view of white tissue through the rent skin. Left hand throbbing, but only sprained. Right pinkie finger flaring in pain - possibly cracked (those things break easy), but still able to flex it. Hmm, only 15 minutes into the ride, what should I do ? All injuries appear to be superficial - the knee is most problematic, but pain is minimal as is the bleeding, and it seems biomechanically sound. So all I've got here is a sh!$#@!load of pain - so I can keep riding - it's just mind over matter, right ? So on I go. The left hand is the only thing really painful, which I don't get, since it seems to work OK. I stop and peel off the glove - OK there's the problem, a large flap of skin has separated from the palm. Doesn't look too bad - keep going.

Manage to fight through it and actually have a good time, though I'm more tentative on the technical sections which is not good. Finally after an hour or so, the knee starts throbbing. I have to get off the bike for numerous bridge crossings, and walking on it is very painful. Hmmm, maybe it is more than superficial ? Soon the pain is traveling up to my hip. Starting to get concerned now - maybe I've nicked a tendon or something. Finally after an hour and a half of this, I decide to turn back. Blah, blah, the pain gets worse and worse. Soon I'm mostly pedalling with one leg. Back at the car, down a couple of Ibuprofin [hmm, maybe should keep some of this stuff in my pack - what's that thing you're supposed to carry around - a Primary Helper Kit or something ?]. OK, let's drive to the clinic I guess, for some bodywork. It's an hour drive, and the vitamin-I has kicked in nicely. The clinic is empty and I get first-class service. The knee gets stitched up - after the doc spends a while extracting dirt and small rocks from the wound - let's add bandages to the Kit next time too. Finger is X-rayed and not broken. Palm is cleaned out (ouch), and taped up.

Pic one week later :

OK lessons learned :
1) This one I already knew, but unfortunately made exceptions to : don't one-foot it through possibly dangerous crap - just walk the bike onto level ground before remounting
2) Ibuprofin - a few of these in the pack would've been good for another 20 miles easy
3) Bandages. Ok pain you can take - a minor bloody wound isn't going to kill you. But inviting dirt and other crap into your body with the broken seal of an open wound is not good.

That's it. Only 1 day off. I was lucky, or unlucky as it were.

Rip9 Test Ride

2007-09-17T09:17:00.005-07:00

Whenever I ride my 29'er (DosNiner soft-tail), I am amazed at how it surgically carves turns at high speed, and how easily it gets up chunky climbs with the big wheels. But after a 50 mile ride on it, my butt is sore for a few days.
When I get on me 5+5 full suspension rig, my body is thankful for the extra cush, but the handling is twitchier, and at 32lbs vs 25lbs on the other bike, it takes more energy to crank it up the hills.

So it would seem that a full suspension 29'er might be the best of both worlds, and it was with great anticipation that I borrowed the shop demo Niner Rip9 for a day.

Picked it up the day before, and got in a quick checkout ride around a familiar loop. The first thing I noticed was that it took a bit more energy to drive this thing up the small climbs than my DosNiner - I was always dropping to the granny ring on stuff that I middle-ringed on the other bike. I was sure that the gearing must be different, but a tooth-count when I got back home showed it be the same as my other 29'er. The other thing I noticed was it did climb well over rough-terrain - and in some cases better than the 26'er (as does my other 29'er). It was also nimble on tight switchbacks.

I tweaked the geometry a bit, and next day headed up to Oakridge to meet CWS for a ride up Middle Fork Willamette trail. I'd heard from someone that this was a great trail - well it was nice meandering river trail, but nothing too exciting. The Rip9 handled great around the many tight-steering corners. But again had the sensation that this bike takes more energy to push along the flats and climbs. Descending, it was great. So a mixed bag. And that's about it for the review as it (and you all) have grown tiresome.

Last race / cross

2007-09-17T09:17:00.003-07:00

I guess I should fill in some words here ! Way back on Sep 9th or so was the last race I did. I hadn't raced since early July, and was having a blast just riding for fun, with the occasional lunch-hour training sessions thrown in, such as the Awbrey Butte Climbing Star : 5 different steep climbs up that Butte, 6-8 minutes long. I wasn't going to do the race, but then I was curious how it would feel, since I hadn't trained nearly as hard as last year. So went up to Ski Bowl, where the familiar race trails are starting to get boring. But this time they added a nice little twist : every lap (and there were 3 of them), near the end you got routed down a 'downhill' trail, with big rock drops and other treacherous features. This was tough on the soft-tail, and I think this was the first race where I consistently bottomed out my fork. The 3 laps were all a bit different, so race turned out fun.

There were 11 in the 40+ Expert class, which was great. 2 new guys, and 2 'fast' guys, so I figured 3rd was possible. However 1 of the new guys turned out to be faster than the 'fast' guys, turning in a time over 10 minutes faster than the other regular fastest dude. And the other new 1 was not too far behind. So I came in a respectable 5th.

Then I did a couple of cross races in dusty Bend. Cyclocross is fun, except for the fact that you have to get off your bike and run over objstacles, and you do lap after lap of the same course. Hmm, but that's the whole point of the sport - oh well I guess I'm not too into it. It's a good workout though, certainly better than running the treadmill in the gym. The first race I did pretty well. The second race I couldn't get motivated what with the repetitiveness of it all, and I faired poorly. The 3rd one I did lap-counting volunteer - part of the bike shop sponsorship requirement. And there was 1 more which I just didn't bother about. A lot of poeople are nuts about it here, and will travel 3-4 hours to get to a race where they compete for 45 minutes. Not me - I'd rather get my money's worth with a 3 hour mountain bike race. But there is a cool social scene I hear - beer gardens and live music.

Log Ride

2007-09-17T09:17:00.001-07:00

North Umpqua Trail Epic

2007-07-24T21:31:00.000-07:00

For many moons I'd been hearing little tidbits here and there about the North Umpqua Trail, a rather long trail that winded along a river in South Western Oregon. Something like the Mackenzie River Trail, but supposedly bigger and better. Lots of tough sections, and great scenery, etc. Ok I guess it should be investigated. After last weekend's successful uber-long ride, I reckoned that the 80 mile Umpqua trail would go down well for a 2 day weekend ride. I bought a map, did a little research, and it seemed like a good idea to camp around the middle of the trail, then the first day do an out-and-back in the uphill direction (around 35 miles 1-way, but maybe turn around after 25 miles or so), then the second day do a 45-mile shuttle ride in the downhill direction. I proposed this to the Sorenson Gang, and they readily accepted.

Friday night we met up at Toketee Lake campground, which at first seemed like a nice spot : campsites about half-full, lots of families and miscellaneous travellers, and only $7 a night. Well that first night sucked, as there was 1 group of campers who kept us up all night. Everything seemed fine at 11 pm when we hit the sack, but I was awaked shortly before 1 am by the sound of loud trucks unloading crap, the chopping of wood, and loud talking. Ok, some late arrivals, no big deal, and an hour later the truck departed and it was relatively quiet. But then an hour later, back it comes, more wood unloading and chopping and noises, and this went on all fucking night. Now, it wasn't the loud music, screaming yahoos type of noise that would make you yell "Shut the fuck up !", it was just a continuous stream of minor noises that prevented restful sleep.

The next morning, Chris surmised that it must be meth-heads who couldn't sleep, and just kept their fire methodically burning all night while what little brains they had were bouncing around inside their heads unable to sleep. But later we noticed that it was just a conglomeration of fishermen, kids, etc. Whatever. But obviously ignorant oblivious people who had no clue how their actions were affecting others. We also concluded that saying anything to them would be useless, as the type of person who would commit such unneighbourly transgressions would be incapable or unwilling to admit it or ammend their actions.

But hey 1 night of no sleep is never a problem, and off we went at 9am on the day's adventure. We found the trailhead across the bridge at one end of the campsite, and in no time were swooping up and down a buff trail along the river, with massive old growth. It was a non-stop rollercoaster, with short steep climbs, and awesome high-speed descents. Many pictures were taken of giant trees, until I guess we finally got used to them. However one 7-foot diameter specimen stopped us in our tracks for more tree-hugging pix. We were on the Hot Springs segment of the trail, which ended at a campsite with another trail that I guess led to some hot springs - go figure. And then we commenced the Dread And Terror section, so named by early explorers who found the river and its steep thickly forested banks so impenetrable, they were like terrified and dreaded it. This was a long 13-mile section, that traversed high up the bank of the river, and passed through many different vegetation zones. There were also a bunch of wet sections here, due to streams emptying down the slope to the river. Some of the climbs were long and steep, but with rewarding downhills.

Finally arrived at Lemolo Lake, which was a good turning around point. We circumnavigated the lake, and had lunch at a camping area which bordered a foul algae-infused section of the lake, with signs proclaiming the water as 'unsafe'. Hmm, not what you'd expect at a high-altitude lake in the middle of nowhere. But these algae blooms are not uncommon in some of the shallower lakes, and appear to be naturally caused. We had almost run out of water at this point, but waited until we saw a clean stream emptying into the lake before we refilled.

At this point, we could have returned the way we came, but the map showed what looked like a cool trail that followed the ridge way above the Southern edge of the river, so we opted for that. Found the faint trailhead out of the corner of my eye after several wrong turns, and it looked like it hadn't seen any use for years. Followed it for a bit, with the aid of some pink ribbons, but eventually it became even fainter, and we abandoned. Now it appeared too long to go back the way we had come via the lake, so we flew down a gravel road for 5 miles or so. Then we checked out the opposite end starting point for the trail we had abandoned, and it was in much better condition on that side, but left it to explore some other day. Dropped back into the Hot Springs section back to the campsite, and finished the day with another great rollercoaster ride.

Day 1 total : 8.25 hours, 4380 vert ft, 41.8 miles. What a blast ! Now for some beer and grub, but first...

Well we had decided before we got back to the campsite, that rather than risk another sleepless night, we would change sites, or maybe even abandon the campground, and find some other place to camp away from the ignorant obnoxious masses. And as if to affirm our decision, our arrival back at the campground was punctuated with the sound of loud music and screams, emanating from several different locations. Trucks full of rednecks drinking beer patrolled the campground, many of them already shitfaced at this point - it seemed like it would be a freaking warzone here tonight, and we immediately decided plan B - get the hell out of Dodge - was the only option. We'd passed one area on our ride back - Thorn Prairie - which while sounding uncomfortable, had seemed like a great out of the way place to camp. Looking around at the numerous vacant sites, it appeared many others had come to a similar conclusion. Did I mention there was also a faint electronic hum that pervaded the entire camping area ? Emanating from some nearby power station no doubt. On out trek up the riverbank we had heard it at an amplified level in some spots.

Within an hour we had packed up and made our exit, and drove up FS 3401. I noticed a sign to Oakridge along the way - possible shortcut ? And then we passed the source of the electronic hum, coming from some maintenance building - and right beside it, several houses - hmm I wouldn't want to see what mutated specimens lived there :) Just a few miles into our escape journey, we crossed a bridge, and I observed what seemed to be like a perfect campsite along the river. We checked it out, and it seemed like Nirvana : nice rushing river sound, huge open space to pitch tents, and firepit with grill. The only drawback was it was a bit close to the road, but not exactly a high traffic area I would think, so we parked it and setup. Finally got to the beer and chow, and it went down very nicely in the new surroundings. There was a bit more traffic than expected on the road, and one redneck-mobile with screaming yahoos, but other than that quiet after 10 pm, and we all had a good night's sleep.

Day 2 was to be the easier day : a predominately downhill 45 mile ride along the river westward. We dumped a car down at the bottom at Swiftwater Park. The 1-way drive time was 45 minutes, and as we drove back to the start point, the enormity of the journey we were soon to embark on hit us with full force. The river was in an immense canyon most of the way, and often you could see the trail undulating along the edge of the steep bank - sometimes down by the water level, other times hundreds of feet up the wall. Then it would disappear as the wall became too sheer, taking some other route through the surrounding mountains before reappearing again. When I first pictured the Umpqua Trail, I had imagined a meandering little river with a trail running alongside it - sure it would go up and down a bit, but never more than 50-100 feet from the river. But the reality is that this trail is Seriously Big. It's like seeing the Rockies for the first time, when all you've previously known are low rolling hills.

With all the shuttling, and packing up camp, we only get started shortly after 11 am. We are figuring on an 8-hour ride, which should leave us about an hour of daylight. I pack a headlamp just in case.

The first section we tackle right out of the campground is Deer Leap, which starts with a long steep climb, just the thing to wake you up and realize that there might actually be some work involved in this 'downhill' ride. After much grunting up and down, high above the river and around deep ravine stream crossings, we arrive at what appears to be the top of the climb for now, and are greeted with an amazing view of the river canyon and surrounding mountains. The terrain here is very dry and desert-like with the Southern exposure. We start the descent, and soon encounter a common denizen of hot dryish climes : a rattlesnake ! I must have disturbed it as I went by, and hear a commotion behind, with the words "Snake!" being clearly discernable. Supposedly the rattler took a strike at Walt as he went by, and Chris, following close behind, ran over the snake. We get off our bikes and head back up the trail to find the reptile - not hard to do, since the rattle could be heard for quite a distance. He was coiled up a few feet off the trail, ready to strike again. He seemed OK, and we took a few pix and were off.

What followed was probably one of my top 5 downhills of all time - as someone else put it "zippy, woo-hoo kind of stuff". I could add a bunch of adjectives, but you probably get the point. After a while, hit a road, and a closed sign on the continuation of the trail on the other side. I'd heard about this closure, some kind of dam work, so down to the highway for 5 miles of blacktop - at least it was mostly downhill.

Then over a bridge to the South side of the river. At this point we still had 5 sections and 34 miles to go. The next few segments sported a variety of terrain and scenery. Flat smooth rollercoaster sections, technical rock gardens, steep exposed areas, lush green stuff, and everywhere Big Trees. I've never seen so much old growth on a trail in my life. Oh, and also I should mention - no people ! If you crave solitude, this is your place. And if you're hoping to bum a tube off another biker - forget it - we saw 3 other bikers in 2 days, and one of them wasn't even on the trail.

We got to enjoy the Calf Segment, reopened this year after 3 years off the map due to fire damage - lots of brand new bridges, and great charred landscape vistas.

The afternoon wore on, and still we were far from our destination. The endless climbs of small and large proportions were starting to take their toll, and I admitted to being a bit tired. Still enjoying the awesome trail, but eager to be done as well. With 20 miles to go, we had our first 'mechanical', with Spence flatting out - he was running Stans tubeless, with a flyweight tire that was barely able to plug up after a protracted period of Stans'ing (rotating the tire around so the goop plugs the hole, pumping up again, etc.). Finally got going again, and made it through the second to last section, a fairly flat one that skirted the river edge. One especially notable bit was a hand-built rock crib section that flared the trail out over the river.

And now we arrived at the start of the Tioga section, the final link in the chain, but described as the most physically demanding section : 16 miles long, with 2 major climbs. We got freaked out looking at the numbers on the trail map : supposedly 3500 vf of climbing in this section. Had to be a misprint, right ? But looking at what we'd already been through, it seemed possible. I made a note of our elevation gain so far - 2940 vf - to see if this crazy number was right. Right at the start, Spence flatted again, and after farting around for 15 minutes trying to plug it without success, we decided to slap a tube in there. Guess what, 4 bikers, 8 tires, and only 1 spare tube ! I handed over my tube, with the caveat that I wanted it back if I needed it. But as soon as I saw it get all slimed with Stans, I knew if we punctured that baby, none of my quick patches would ever stay on.

On the road again, and it was starting to get a bit dark in the deeply forested parts. Finally after 8 miles in, we hit the famous Bob's switchbacks - our last big climb, and then downhill after that to the end. If we were going to get some vert, it would be here. I started first up the winding trail. The switchbacks were well engineered and I was cleaning them. Some of the bits in between were ridiculously steep, but I was determined not to get off the bike. It was amazing, that after 2 long days on the bike, I still felt incredible power, and was making it up stuff that would have given me a hard time after a few days rest. Got to a steepish rocky traverse, and lost it when a boulder appeared in the middle of the trail. Walked for a bit, then back on, and made it up the last few switchies to the top. Behind me I heard a shout from Spence, but didn't want to disturb my rythm and look back. Well, I think I blew my wad on that last climb, and was starting to feel woozy. So chow down on yet more sticky power blocks and gels, and guzzle more stream water that hopefully wouldn't leave me sick in bed for a week. Spence shows up and I see that the sole of his shoe is clipped into his pedal, but the rest of it is no longer attached - complete separation - not a bad time for this to happen I guess, with 5 miles to go and mostly downhill.

The rest of the crew arrives at the top, and it's clear sailing through the rest of the trail. It gets wider and wider as we get closer to the end, finally it's gravelled, then paved, and we're done. Cross the bridge and back to the car, where near-beers are guzzled and 'we did it' pix are taken.

The totals for day #2 : 8.5 hours, 43.5 miles, 4839 vf.

Is that enough riding for a while ? Well, the conensus was that now we should try to do the whole trail in 1 day : 80 miles, ~9000 vf, probably 14 hours of riding... yeah that's doable.

Mosquito Power at Waldo Lake

2007-07-23T20:18:00.000-07:00

The day started with no power, as my car refused to start - the battery decided to die that day it would seem. At 7:30 a.m on a Saturday it was hard to find anybody around in the neighborhood to give me a jump start. So I pushed the car over to the corner intersection, hoping to do one of them starts where you coast down a hill and then jam it into gear and kick the engine to life, but that utterly failed. However this landed me directly in front of my neighbour Pat, who had his garage door open and was puttering around inside. He came over with a remote battery starter and got me going. Then drove way faster than usual, hoping to still make the 9 a.m. meeting time at Willamette Pass with the Sorenson clan. And I actually got there with 5 min to spare. There was some downhill race going on the next day, and a few racers of that ilk were messing around with their massive heavy bikes, clad in heavy armor, ready to do some practice runs. In the mean time, I pulled on my bright yellow team spandex attire, and tried to look tough.

The Sorenson's showed up, and presently we set forth on our expedition - a long ride that Walt had devised, which had us climbing up to the back of the ski mountain, descending via Maiden Peak, then climbing up the Gold Bridge trail to Waldo Lake. Then circumnavigating the lake, whereupon we would climb up the Fuji Mountain Trail, and then enjoy an awesome mega-vert descent.

We had lunch at Waldo Lake, and the mosquitoes were relatively tame. There are many legends of brave souls driven from the Lake by hungry hordes of the bloodsuckers, but it appeared that time had passed for this year. We continued around the Lake and at the opposite end decided to try a shortcut that would shave an hour or so off our journey - this seemed prudent, seeing as how we were at the 5 hour point or so. The trail was 'No Bikes' (hiking only), so we 'carried' or 'walked' our bikes, ever watchful for concealed Park Rangers who might jump out from the trees and write us $200 tickets for violating the rules. The mosquitoe count multiplied rapidly the further we got from the lake, and much swearing and swatting ensued. Soon the steep terrain forced us to actually really walk our bikes, and we were descended on by more and more of the blood-sucking pests. Rational thinking was impossible, and angry swatting the order of the day. After much anguish we arrived at the intersection of the bike trail we were hoping to intercept, but it appeared that the map failed us, and we became hopelessly confused, especially after the next couple of intersections which did not appear as they were on the map. Of course it could be that the goddam bugs prevented our brains from accurately analyzing the data at hand.

At last we seemed to have found our way up to the Mt Fuji Trail, and thereafter were greeted with steep climbs of immense proportions. Finally at the top, we now concluded we had gone the wrong way, and had to backtrack down all that hard-fought but useless elevation. Got on a high speed fun descent that we were 90% sure was right, and finally made it back out to familiar territory. The mosquito bites were ubiquitous and itchy, and several close-up photos were taken.

So what is 'mosquito power' ? Well it's the discovery of untapped reserves of power, when you're grinding up a steep hill in your granny gear, and you're totally spent and want to get off and push, but the knowledge that once you're walking your speed will be decreased such that the hordes of mosquitoes will start devouring you carnivorously at a much higher rate than they already are, so somehow you just stay on the bike and make the climb.

Back at our starting point, a small city has erupted, as masses of downhill racers have accumulated in the parking lot, and pitched their tents in the adjoining wooded areas. Heavy metal music can be heard eminating from several sources, and alcoholic beverages are being hoisted with abandon. Wow what a different world.

What a day - 7.5 hours, 50 miles, 5600 vf of climbing, and 20000 bites.

King of the Mountain

2007-07-09T19:08:00.000-07:00

My 9th race in 10 weeks, with this one (Return on the Jedi) being probably my favorite : point-to-point, tons of climbing (4600 vf last year), steep tricky technical descents, and plenty of smooth high-speed single-track railing downhill through old growth.

It's a 4-hour drive towards the coast, but with a great campsite at the race start area, 13 miles up a remote single-lane paved winding road, it's a good candidate for a weekend road trip. Convinced the family to come along, with my 6-year old daughter keen to enjoy her first 'kid's race' - usually a very easy 5 to 10 minute stroll around flat dirt roads, but being only a couple months out of training wheels, could be tough for her.

Arrived there early afternoon Saturday, with plenty of great campspots to choose from. And the camping is free this year - no campsite host, very few services - all part of the downsizing/decomissioning of Forest services all over Oregon (man, they need a new government soon...).

Preride the last section of the course with ChrisS and his sons - the final 1300 ft climb up from the lowest point, and then the high speed Jedi section - seems easy when you're fresh, but that climb pretty much finishes everybody off at the end of the race. I then went back to campsite fun with the family / beer-drinking, while Chris and a few other people rode the prologue loop. Heard some story about a 50-foot stream crossing through 1-2 feet of water - hmm probably an exaggeration. Seemed like they were planning on making the course easier this year anyways (which I wasn't too happy with), as the website said they took out the long hot climb in the sun and replaced it with a shorter one in the shade.

But at the start line at 9am the next day, we got the drill about several big stream crossings - all I got was "Stay to the left!", or else you might find yourself floundering in a few feet of water. Another disappointing turnout, with less than 20 pros and experts. Didn't see anybody from the 'Group of 6' from last week that finished in front of me. But within a few minutes after starting, about 10 of the group had opened a huge gap on me and were out of sight. Caught and passed 1 after 10 minutes or so, but then was alone in the initial loop, with no chasers. Came up on the first big stream crossing, and man they weren't kidding - 50 feet of fast moving water to cross, and it looked deep. Of course this was where the photographer was positioned, hoping for good aqua-carnage. I quickly decided ramming speed was the best option - as opposed to low-gear slow speed line picking - and jammed it right down the middle (staying left didn't look so good), and I made it across unscathed. A few more tamer crossings, and after half an hour was back at the start area, where the climbing fun would begin. Had caught up to SpencerS, and we took turns leading up the climb, which was along an old double-track with a great canopy above it. Excellent temps here in the shade - I noted 58F at one point, much better than the 105F climbing we had in the sun last year (though this year wasn't nearly as hot).

Finally at the top after 1.5 hours, and still no one in sight ahead. Found it hard to believe that the other experts were that much faster (found out later it was mostly Pros in that group). Down some dirt roads, and then the last loose single track climb to the real top of the mountain, whereupon the 2600 vf descent awaits. It starts off with steep rocky ledges, where your seat is rammed into your chest for a long while. Finally passed someone here who was walking his bike down (heard later he injured himself and DNF'd). Then more fun in the trees, out onto the hillside for more rocky switchbacks, then insanely fast single-tracking all the way down to the low-point. Hadn't seen SpencerS since the top, but he caught up to me at the bottom, and we again led up the climb together. Over 2 hours into the race, and now facing the last big daunting climb. Last year was pushing my bike on the steepest spots, walking through poison oak and not giving a shit, feeling like crap. But today feel good and clean the entire climb. Spence has disappeared from sight, and I push hard, knowing there's a good chance he'll catch up. But cross the finish line at 3:13, and no one else shows up for a while. I win my category for the 2nd year in a row - though only 3 were in it. Still, get 2nd Expert overall.

The overall conclusion among the racers is that this is a real mountain biking course - with the most technical terrain and the most climbing. With over 5200 vf and 30+ miles, yep it's probably the toughest. Hmm, I'll have to show them what it's like in B.C. :)

Oakridge Series Finale

2007-06-29T07:57:00.000-07:00

It's the last race of the 6-race series. Best 4 results count, and I was sitting precariously in third place. Now there's at least half-a-dozen racers in my Expert 40+ class that are a level beyond me in fitness, and usually finish 10-15 minutes faster in a 2.5 hour race. And they all showed up today ! The organizer even recognized this showdown, and put them all in the front starting line so they could duke it out. Well hopefully another half-dozen slower riders showed up so I can finish mid-pack.

The weather is nicely temperate : low 60's, much better than the 100F we suffered through last year. The expert course is basically 2 laps. Start on some double track, then onto winding flat single track, then up the Wall, a steep fire road climb that usually separates the men from the boys. The first time up, go all the way to the top of the mountain, and enjoy a fast but buttery smooth old-growth descent. Then down some tarmac and miscellaneous trails, and start the 2nd lap. But this time don't have to climb as high up the Wall, and get to take another fun steep winder down. The Sports and Pros do this fun little techy grinder section on the side of the river before they do the wall. This is my kind of trail - rooty, rocky, and slippery - I can make some ground here... But today have to stick to the mostly smooth stuff.

Well the race was relatively boring, so I'll be brief. The most exciting thing was this innocent looking puddle that ended throwing up a buttload of mud (with a cement-like consistency that was very difficult to remove later). With the low temps I didn't get that tomato-head phenomenon I experienced last year, and finished the race feeling pretty fresh. In fact, could easily have done another lap - so conserved a bit too much I guess. Most of the 'Group of 6' finished in a clump about 7-10 minutes ahead of me. But #6 was only 30 seconds ahead. Hmm, I wonder what it would take to get 10 minutes faster in a 2.25 hour race, and win against this group. Lez see that's an improvement of 7.5% - seems like a lotta work. Spending $ would help! From some tests I did last year, 5 lbs of extra weight costs you about 5 minutes in a 2.5 hour race with a normal amount of climbing. So if spent like 10 grand on an uber light bike that would buy me a few minutes :) (in fact I overheard that #6 guy talking about his bike a few races ago - some 21.5 lb full suspension model he imported from Europe - we're talking 5 grand plus for that). But what's the weight of a full water bottle ? A lot of these guys only carry 1 per lap, and get a hand-off. Anyways, I don't care that much... only 1 more race to go and then can get back to slacking off and riding for fun.

Global Cooling Race

2007-06-21T10:14:00.001-07:00

It's the first race of the year up at SkiBowl - on the flanks of Mt Hood - with its own special microclimate. Most other parts of the world are experiencing global warming - but not here. Only 500 feet higher in elevation then Bend, but 10 times as cold. The forecast isn't great - showers in the morning and a high of only 58F. There's a weather web cam up at the pass near the race, and at 8am it's showing 38F and the road is glistening wet from showers. As usual in the morning, I am not too disposed to driving to a race when the weather is questionable, so this seems like a good excuse to skip it. I can go for a ride around here in the balmy sunshine instead. But I check a little later, and can see bright sun reflecting off the road - OK I'll go, might not be too bad.

On the road, and sure enough it's sunny just about everywhere. I can even see the mountain, so should be clear there. But near the end of the 2 hour drive, as gain elevation near the summit, I am plunged into the soup of thick cloud cover, and it is raining. The thermometer on the car shows 4C - so hasn't changed at all since that 38F reading a few hours ago - and it's raining on top of that. I sign it, and putter around the inside of the van, taking my time layering up. Not looking forward to a cold wet race at all. I do a bare minimum 10-minute warm-up, and get into the start chute with the unsurprisingly small crowd. Only about 30 Pros and Experts. The Pros and young Experts take off first, then the 40+ crowd a minute later, with the single-speeders and women.

The trails are actually nice and tacky, as there had been no rain prior to today. The rain lets up shortly, and after 10 minutes I start pushing ahead to the front. Only 2 are ahead of me - one I know that usually finishes a good 10 minutes in front, and another who has been pretty close in time to me, and has beaten me before this year. I slide by him, calling out a greeting - but he barely emits a grunt. This guy must probably hate me I guess - in the last race I followed him for an hour, and then passed him decisively 15 minutes before the finish. I keep the #1 guy in sight for the first lap, but never see him again after that. Ok, gotta hold down the #2 spot. Second lap, up the steep Horse Trail climb, which is usually sandy and loose, but tacky and grippy today. No one in sight behind. The top of the course is now shrouded in fog, with visibility maybe 50 feet. I might easily get lost if I didn't know the course (in fact I did get lost last year in perfect conditions).

I'm finding it hard to push, as there's no one in sight to chase, and no one chasing me. The occasional Pro sneaks up behind and passes, as they are doing longer laps. I keep thinking they're someone in my class, but nope haven't seen anyone in that crowd for a while now. Here's me struggling to keep pace with the Pro eventual winner as he passes me :

I do the foggy, rocky twisting downhill run for the third and final time - and have a nice little crash, as my hands are starting to cramp in the cold. But no one behind to take advantage, and cross the finish line in under 2.5 hours - only 4.5 minutes behind the first place. Well I needn't have worried about getting caught, 3rd place comes in almost 18 minutes later.

Now the temperature is real balmy - why it's almost 6C ! It's hard to enjoy the cold Pilsener what with all the shivering standing around afterwards. But the racing in the cold was actually quite pleasant - I'll have to try to remember that the next time I start to whine about crappy weather conditions going into a race.

Pickett's Charge Sufferfest

2007-06-10T20:56:00.000-07:00

Another hot dry and dusty Bend race. It poured for a while the night before, but the bone-dry terrain just sucked it up and spit out more dust-balls. The temp barely made 90F, but with the additional effect of air-borne particles clogging up the air passages, it felt like worse or something.

Not much elevation gain in the 20-mile loop that we had to do twice, but on the first little hill I was gasping and wheezing and watching my heart-rate climb into zones I'd never seen before. Just a low point in the cycle I guess. A few days before I'd been doing Pilot Butte hill repeats, and slapping myself on the back for feeling so awesome. But now, not so good, and somewhat nauseous, which I never get.

I pushed as hard as I could on the flats, and just tried to survive the little grunt-ups. There was some amusement from the other racers, as the heat appeared to be generating a high percentage of cranky people. I was 2nd in a group of 3 as we approached a somewhat tricky-looking but actually quite easy diagonally oriented log pile. I cranked it a bit to get some momentum going over it, when the guy in front of me got stuck or panicked and jammed on his brakes at the top of the pile, and I ram into his bike. Whatever, that's racing, right ? But this guy lets forth with a verbal spew of profanity at my transgression - like yeah I get my kicks trying to play bumper-bikes. I just ignore him, but not his jersey, which proudly proclaims him as sponsored by the bike shop who runs the race - hmm that's not good advertising. We'll call him ShadySide. The guy behind me now starts muttering at me in my defense : "I knew that was going to happen, c'mon, show him by kicking his ass in the race. Take him, let's get him !" Well he passes him eventually, but I have absolutely no kick, and plod along with the now growing line of racers. However 15 minutes later he does seem to be waning, and I get by him, which is somewhat satisfying.

Start the 2nd lap, which is no less dusty or hot. I am following 2 other racers, and figure out that they are in my class. They drift into the distance occasionally, but I always reel them in, though I am actually doing no reeling whatsoever and just trying to survive. Hmm, maybe they are a bit tired too ? DaveM appears behind me, also in my class. I ask him how he's feeling - "Great" he says. So I explain how I'm feeling like crap, and he should really pass me and kick the butt of those 2 other guys in our class ahead. He follows me for a while, then bursts ahead and gets by the other 2 quickly. Then I notice #2 ahead overtakes #1 - aha someone is weakening. I feel a stirring, and hmm what do you know, I appear to be getting my first wind, after almost 2.5 hours of racing. I get close behind weakening "Knock-knees", and as soon as I see an opening, I scooch off to the right of the trail into small underbrush, and try to pass. But the trail starts veering left, so looks like I have to abort. But wait, I can see the trail veering back right again, so I employ a little 'trail-cut' manoeuvre and cross through to the trail and get ahead. And what do I hear but a bunch of bitching from this guy about how what I did was not cool and I should only do 'proper' passing on the trail. Whatever buddy, I don't think this 40-mile race is going to be decided by a few feet, and what are you pissed that I circumvented your blocking manouever ? Yeah, so this guy is also sponsored by a local shop - hmm when you're wearing the colors I think you need to present a somewhat sunny disposition... of course now they think WebCyclery riders like to ram other racers and cut trails ! :)

I go off in pursuit of SkinSuit - you don't see many mountain bikers wearing these, and I guess it is more satisfying to pass a guy whose attire proclaims "I am so cool and fast they gave me this awesome looking skin-suit!" - and he's not too far ahead. I am starting to feel great and I really don't understand it. Maybe cuz the last half of the lap is mostly on a slight downhill. I catch up to SkinSuit on a dirt road, and squeeze past him just before the single-track begins, yelling "On your right!", as I get there half a wheel before him. Except, that wasn't really the start of the singletrack, just more doubletrack. Oops - man these glasses are dusty, I can't see a thing!:)

Next I see if I can chase down DaveM, and finally I see his dust cloud way ahead, and I'm gaining. 10 minutes later the gap is down to 10 seconds, and it's looking good for a showdown sprint to the finish. But then I come around a corner a bit too hot, the front wheel loses grip, and in a fraction of a second I am slammed down viciously onto the hardpack trail. Stunned at the suddenness and ferocity of this mishap, and surprised by the blood-flecked pain, I scramble to get back in the saddle as fast as possible, not knowing how far back SkinSuit and KnockKnees are. But my muscles are doing weird spasmodic jerking and cramping, and it takes a while to get back up to my previous velocity. Only a few minutes to go, and looks like I blew my chance to catch up. It's close, but at the end I'm 12 seconds short.

I get off my bike, and immediately both legs lock up - all I can do is stand there frozen, willing my muscles to relax, but they obstinately refuse. I ran out of fluids about 10 minutes ago, and I desperately need to get to the water station, which is only 50 feet away. After several minutes of stiff legged shuffling, during which I contemplate just throwing the bike down and lying in the dirt, I manage to get there, using the bike as a crutch.

Well overall an interesting race. Usually the 'feeling like crap' part happens near the end when you're wasted, but I got it reversed this time.

How some deal with the dust :

On the Fence

2007-05-23T16:19:00.000-07:00

"We're last!" shouted JustinT, as he went by. I glanced behind me - sure enough, there wasn't a rider in sight. What he really meant was "You're last!" - not a great start to the Falls City Firecracker race, a race where I usually do pretty well. Two years ago won my first race here in Sport, and last year got onto the podium in Expert class.

Today just wasn't feeling motivated - had been on the fence about coming to this race the whole previous week. It's a 3.5 hour drive, meaning a full day's commitment, and I had a shitload of backlogged chores and other stuff I've been trying to do and can't find the time for. So thought I'd just skip it. But then I already paid the entry fee - OK I'll go. But if it's just the $, then driving down there will probably cost me $50 - OK skip it. Then there was the weather forecast - not good, with rain expected the day before and day of. And when they say rain on the Coast, it usually means it will be pissing down, not the sporadic showers you get around Bend. So yeah, that seems like a good reason to not go. But wait, maybe then a lot of people won't go, so if I show up I'll have a better chance of podium'ing. So on it went... somehow I found myself in my car driving over there Sunday morning, looking for any reason to turn back. Hit snow in the pass, then rain on the other side. Stopped for a leak, and the tempation to U-turn almost overcame me, but then I figured what the hell I'm 3/4 of the way there. How about I just keep going, and if the overall experience sucks, then I won't do it again.

So as the race started in a light rain, I was totally unmovitated to be there, and didn't give a crap about being last. But went up the initial long climb as best I could, and soon was passing people. Ten minutes in, all self-absorbed crybaby talk was gone, and I was determined to do well. There was a new downhill section this year, with plenty of loose slippery sections, and crashes were plentiful. I took good advantage of these, and was having a pretty good time. Starting the 2nd lap of 5, I heard someone yell 'Go Romasco!', the name of someone who had beaten me by a bike length a couple of races ago. Man, if I beat anybody today, it has to be that guy ! So now had another reason not to slack off. One pesty orange jersey had been shadowing me for a few laps, and on the climb on lap #4 he made his move and passed me. This did not bother me at all, and I stayed close on his tail. On lap#5 climb, he seemed to wilt, and I returned the favour. Now just have to rail the descent and hold him off on the last climb. Yep OK, and I finish up with absolutely no cramping - probaby because it was 84F last year, and only 48F this year. Grab the last podium spot, and was in the top half of the young punks 19-39 Expert class. So ended up being worth it after all.

Chainbreaker

2007-05-19T08:26:00.001-07:00

Race.
Last year a dust storm, but got a bit of rain day before this year, so was great conditions.
The usual tough Bend crowd.
I managed to squeak into the top half finishers in my class.
2 laps for us. Last year 3, but too many finishers came in over 3.5 hours in Expert 40+, so there were complaints, so they reduced us to 2 this year. But there were lots of complaints over that ! I checked times from last year - just as many slower finishers in the Expert 19-39 as Expert 40+, so no excuse. I didn't care - not the most exciting course, so 2 laps enough. First lap I was 30s faster than last year, and 2nd over 2m faster, but didn't have to conserve for last lap, so probably about the same. Finishing in around 2 hours almost seemed like a sprint.

Video : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0I_OSk_sQ6o

Ashland Spring Thaw

2007-05-08T09:50:00.000-07:00

Once again, the race that many people have negative comments about, but then show up in droves for. This year it was the designated "State Championship Race", so you get extra points, and bragging points - this helped drive the record attendance. Last year in my report, I pooh-pooh'd those who said the race is won or lost on the extended flat fire-road middle section, which you're on for 40-45 minutes. This is after a gruelling 3000 ft climb. This year they ran the course in reverse direction, so the climbing grade was a little easier. The bonus was the awesome 3000 ft descent on rolling switch-backing singletrack - the same course used for the downhill race (which you could probably win on a hard-tail btw). Anyways, I now officially eat my words about the flat section, as I was a victim of the 'all-alone' factor. More on that later.

Due to the gas price crisis, I was forced to be sociable and share a ride down to the race. Hooked up with TimJ, another WebCyclery rider, who had a Google map of a new shortcut to Ashland, and an address of a floor of somebody's house to stay in. We didn't read the map until too late, and missed the first half of the shortcut, but found the other half, descending down this crazy steep switchbacking road into Ashland, which might be fun to ride up on a bike...or not. Found the house easily - a 1 bedroom microplot - and saw the living room had been staked out already by several sleeping bags and piles of gear. So we're not the only ones crashing here... Yep, 5 in total - but hey, more convenient than a campsite.

The rest of the crew returns, and everybody is involved in getting ready for the next day - wolfing down carb-meals, tinkering on equipment, etc. Some are stretching, munching on granola. I crack open a beer and get dirty looks - "What, you're drinking beer the night before the race?". Oh shit, now I'll get kicked off the team for drinking and showing up at the race all hungover. That Marc, no he's not serious - he's making us look bad - tear up his contract. Maybe he can join the Guinness team.

I grab a sleeping area outside the kitchen where the washer and dryer would be, and try to get to sleep - difficult due to the bedspins from that one beer.

The first of is up at 5:30 am, and we get to the race early enough to grab some of the few all-day parking spots. I do my warmup, and am feeling rather crappy - not unexpected, as have spent 3 of the last 5 days between races doing hard intervals. So cut short the warmup. The race starts promptly at 9am, and spend the next 45 minutes or so chugging up fire roads and single track. Am feeling not too bad, and passing more than I am passed. Arrive at the top with another rider, and start pairing up for the long flat traverse. Another rider catches up, and the 3 of us move along for a few minutes. Then the pace is upped, and I"m having trouble hanging off the back. Feeling like it's a bit fast for me, I let them go, and decide to wait for the next paceline to come by. Well guess what, 40 minutes go by and not a single group has come up from behind. I'm getting quite shagged, and finally, a few minutes before the downhill starts, a couple guys go by - they are actually in my class, and people I normally finish well in front of. I latch onto the back, and amazed how it seems with only 50% of my previous effort, I can float along behind them. The singletrack starts - one lets me by, and follow the other guy for a while. He's slowing me down, but not by much. We get onto the final road for the finish, and he's puts down the hammer and goes for it. I draft behind, and I swear I barely have to pedal to keep up. I decide I'll tag along for the ride, and then just before the finish, kick down and scoot by hime. But I've actually never tried that before - I start my sprint a bit late, and am gaining on him, but not quick enough for the finish line, which appears sooner than I expect. I end up placing 8th out of 12. So yeah I should have killed myself trying to stay in the paceline with those guys at the top - looks like I would have finished around 5th - 5 minutes faster. Oh well, next time.

The ride home is again a bit adventurous, as try to find the mysterious missing link in the short cut. But with the gas guage reading low, and heading down a dirt road that seems to be going nowhere, we turn around and take the sure way out.

Bear Springs Race

2007-05-04T09:53:00.000-07:00

Race#2 of the season for me. This time I started a little fresher, as had been resting the last couple of days as opposed to doing intervals. This race was a blast last year - lots of technical sections, some good downhills and a few ramps.
I arrived about 45 min before the race start - not in a big hurry, as last year everybody showed up late, and the start got delayed by an hour as everyone had to file their paperwork. But this time I was one of the last to arrive, good except for the fact that I bottomed out the van in one of that last available crappy parking spots. A quick warmup, and all ready to go on time at 11 am. Here's the play-by-play from my perspective :

The relatively large group of Pros and Experts take off. As usual, I have strategically placed myself near the back of the pack. We blast down the tarmac for a minute, then it's off to the right up a steep unclimbable dirt road - everybody off their bikes and running raggedly up the rutted incline - stupid start, much chaos. A stretch of wide dirt track for a while, where passing is possible. I finally pass a few poeople after 20 minutes or so, and right after I drop my chain on a downshift before a dirt road climb, and all those I passed and more get by me ! I don't seem to have much wind, and notice I am riding alongside people who usually finish near the back. Catch up to ChrisS - we had a great neck-and-neck race last year, maybe more of the same this year ? I get by him and then later a few more, then time for some downhill. Someone's right behind me... hey it's ChrisS - alright the race is on !

Notice at the 1:15 hour mark I'm starting to get tired - not going to be a big day it would seem. Hit a bit of a climb though, and I'm chugging along nicely. The trails are great, and I allow myself to forget I'm racing for a bit and just have fun. Now approaching the 2 hour mark, which based on last years time, means about another hour or so to go. But is the race longer or something, because there's some points of reference which I haven't seen yet - so yeah either I'm slower (not impossible), or the race is longer. A group of 3 surge past me on the road. I decide to try hanging on to their wheels just for fun - see how long I can last - but I end up staying with them for a while. A little bit later they are hanging onto my wheel, and later yet I've dropped them. Thanks guys. I guess I didn't know I could go faster. Now getting into the last half hour of the race. Lots of techy stuff that wears you out, but I'm feeling great (as opposed to last week's race, where I was in 'survival mode' for the last 1/4 of the race). Passing a few more people here and there. Now hit the rooty slick riverside trail - the bike and me are rolling this stuff great (29'er advantage). Then the steep climb out of the ravine - lowest gear grunting and several dismounts up steep switch-backs. Up to the last, steepest climb, and feeling pretty wasted, am about to dismount, when up ahead I see someone still on their bike, almost reaching the top. Inspiration, and I try it and make it as well - hey it was a girl - the top pro female.

Inside 10 minutes to go and I push hard. Pass several casualties - poeple collapsed on the side of the trail cramped up, some just leaning on trees still on their bikes. Onto the road for the final stretch to - and no one behind me, so don't have to sprint too hard. I get 4th out of 17 - one of my best results ever - quite the reverse from last week, which was probably my worst. And I learned a valuable lesson - go faster !

Training observation #1

2007-04-25T08:31:00.000-07:00

Building leg muscle over the winter appears to be useful. Because this year I didn't, and I seem to be feeling the effects. Let me explain : in my training program, you do a bunch of heavy leg lifting during the winter, culminating with a month or so of really heavy weights, with few repetitions. For example last year I recall pushing almost 800 lbs in Leg Presses, over 5x my body weight. Then you go into on the bike training, then racing, etc. So after many months on the bike, I went back to the gym to see how many lbs I could push with my legs, and the results were pathetic - like no strength or power at all. Yet I could ride my bike for 3 hours hard in a race with no problem. From this I concluded that leg exercises in the gym must be useless. So, I didn't do them this year.

So what ? Well, I noticed that when I started doing intervals on the bike this season, my legs were hurting, but my lungs were good. So then I determined that building up the legs with weights is fairly useless wrt racing, but it provides a training effect early in the season by forcing the lungs to work harder. So you don't need it later on, but earlier on is good as a jump start.

I Mudd

2007-04-24T10:49:00.000-07:00

After some trials and tribulations, finally got to attend the much vaunted Mudslinger race. This is usually the first mountain bike race of the season, and has a huge attendance. I could never ascertain the reason for this, but I postulated it was only popular because it was the first opportunity for training-happy racers to show their stuff after coming out of hibernation, during which they spent 9 hours a day on the trainer. It can't be for the quality of the trails, which are still pretty wet and muddy. And ditto for the weather.

So last year I signed up but never made it, due to an inconvenient early spring snowstorm that resulted in my abandoning the early morning 3-hour drive across the Pass, because I didn't want to risk my life fighting through snow at high speed to make it there on time, and then of course there was the fact that it would probably be pissing down as much rain on the Other Side as snow on this side. So yeah, much easier to go back to bed and forget about it.

This year was determined not to repeat the past, and planned to leave the night before and camp out near the race. I was just about to start packing the van, and doing a pre-trip check on the vehicle, when I noticed a large burp on the front tire sidewall. Hmm, definitely some sidewall separation going on here, don't want to be doing any treacherous Pass driving on this here car - no sir. Well, maybe take the smaller Subaru, in which case would have to tent it (as opposed to sleep in van). Check forecast : raining and low of 42 - not fun for setting up tent. Alright, change plans and get up at 5am to drive over in the morning, just like last year. And the funny thing is, there is a snowfall warning until 5am the next day. Sheeyit, deja vu.

So get up at 5am - no snow around here or anywhere, so all systems go. Briefly contemplate abandoning back to bed, cuz race forecast is kinda chilly and wet, but of course go for it anyways... Drive through a bit of snow, and arrive by 9am at the cold and damp race start area. Large crowd as usual, and start near the back of the Expert group. I'm not feeling too rabid, only been on the MTB a few days, had some weird intestinal bug earlier in the week that had me horizontal for a coupla days - blah blah blah excuses - so just planning on going at a good steady pace and see what happens.

The rain holds off at the start, and we set off on a steady climb up fire roads for the first little while. Then an abrupt turn into singletrack, and the fun begins, as the muddy slop of trail is first encountered. Man, with only 50 or so riders in front of me, it's already turned to mushy crap, what will it be like the 2nd lap ? I hold my position mostly for the first hour or so, with only the occasional single-speeder (they started a bit later) getting by. I don't pass anybody either, which means I'm still in the latter part of my class. But feel great, constantly outputting over 100% of LTHR. The mudfest on the singletrack is actually starting to be fun - no traction at all - just controlled sliding. The occasional rider can be seen clambering back up slick slopes to the trail, after a wash-out and tumble down the side. Interspersed with the single track are some great fire-road vistas, and the overall experience is somewhat more pleasant than I had anticipated.

The first lap ends in a fun twisty downhill slick-fest, and back onto the fireroads for Big Climb #2. The legs are starting to fail a bit now. The Lungs are having a relatively easy time, and are finding Legs to be a bit of a party-pooper.
After a downhill section, Legs have decided to demonstrate their displeasure by cramping up. Now we all have to go slow because of stupid Legs. Amazingly the trail conditions have not deteriorated as I had presumed - in fact in some cases things seem to have improved - perhaps all the really squishy mud has been splashed off to the sides by the passage of riders.

On the last downhill, pass a bunch of people who are mud-sliding slowly, and get onto the road for the final climb to the finish - a gradual 2 or 3 mile affair that is exceedingly annoying after racing for over 2.5 hours. I expect many of the people I passed on the downhill will now be gaining on me. After a while, look back, and sure enough there's a posse of 4 or 5 riders getting closer. Push a little harder if that's possible, and when I look back they are gone. Almost at the finish, there's 1 behind me surging ahead. But I have absolutely no gas for a sprint, so have to let 'em by. I end up 10th out of 15 - my worst ever result in Expert I think ! Oh well can only go up from here ?

And thus ends the soggy muddy saga. It had started raining for the last hour or so, so that was a nice touch. Needless to say, the bike was weighed down with an extra few pounds of mud. My shorts looked like I'd just won a beer and shnitzel eating contest, and then enema'd myself. So yeah, a good time.

HitnRun

2007-04-23T09:13:00.000-07:00

http://www.bendbulletin.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070419/NEWS0107/704190317/0/FRONTPAGE

? It seems links don't work in Blogger...

da young coot xpost

2007-04-21T18:27:00.000-07:00

http://bentrag.blogspot.com/2007/03/praise-da-lord-for-dah-assholes.html

Missing link :

Snow Terror grips Central Oregon !

2007-01-03T11:07:00.000-08:00

at least that's what it seemed like last night, with 40 inches of snow expected over the next 48 hours. Planned to go up skiing early the next day, which was made easy by my son waking me up at 5:45 am. Checked the Mt. Bachelor website : 7.5" of snow overnight, with another 5" that morning - not bad, shouldn't be too crazy driving up there. I packed both my skate and classic skis, figuring the grooming might not be skate-worthy due to the big dump, and drove off just before 7am in pouring rain.

Ten minutes later I was out of the rain and into the snow-zone. Soon it became thick slush, and the car was starting to slide around. Visibility was getting bad, and there were blizzard-like wind gusts. As I ascended, the slush on the road gave way to a more consolidated snow surface, but visibility was getting worse. I decided to turn off at the first snow park, rather than driving all the way up to the mountain. But when I got there, a 3-foot high wall of snow from the snowplow blocked the entrance, so I kept going. Next snowpark...nope, not plowed at all. So what the heck, keep driving.

Now the road surface was actually getting better - recently plowed and much colder snow. I was able to increase velocity to about 50 mph, and got to the Mt Bachelor parking lot shortly. Couldn't see much, but didn't look like the lot had been plowed. Headed towards a group of 3 or 4 cars that had already parked, going through about a foot of snow. I saw the car in front of me was stuck, so slowed down and went around, but then I got stuck too ! The snow was so dense, that my 6" or so of clearance wasn't going to cut it. Tried going back and forth with the stick, attempting to rock it out - no way, all tires spinning. An SUV came in to park, and it got stuck too - even with way more clearance than I had. So got out the shovel, and started digging the snow out from under the car, and a path to where I wanted to park - about 30 feet away. This probably took 20 minutes, and then I was able to lurch ahead and park. Briefly contemplated just getting out of there, but I'd probably get stuck again...and if I ski for an hour or so, maybe the snowplow will have cleared the lanes.

So had a great ski for over an hour, and when I returned the snowplow had done a bit of work. Was able to get out relatively easy. Could see people shoveling and pushing cars all over the place, what a mess. The snowplow was way behind the number of people that needed to park. Driving back, the road had deteriorated, but still tons of people on the way to the hill - they don't know what they're in for ! Some more sketchy driving through deep snow and slush, but made it to work only a few minutes late. Tomorrow more of the same probably - what will I do ? :)

Observations on snow travel techniques

2006-12-24T09:08:00.000-08:00

Everybody knows how much I love snowshoers :) Yes last year they were the source of many poke-funning blog entries. Hey I even went snowshoing a few times this year with my kids, notably the time when we dragged the 14-foot tree out of the woods. Well my snowshoes are huge - though not as big as those traditional wood-and-gut creations of old - they have a large surface area and can transport me with relative ease through deep snow. If I remember right, they were spec'd to support up to 200 lbs through deep snow - just right for me and a full overnight pack. Now I have to wonder when I look at the itty-bitty snowshoes most people are using these days : barely larger than their feet, and sporting all kinds of spikes and claws on the underside to facilitate grip in icy conditions. These look cool and all, but methinks they are better suited to mountaineering than traipsing through the gentle undulating terrain where I see most snowshoers as I'm skiing around. The snowparks all have marked snowshoe trails now, and 99% of the time that's what the snowshoers follow. They don't have much choice, because the teeny-tiny snowshoes they wear are only good for following a firmly packed trail. So they rarely venture off randomnly into the woods, which is when it actually becomes fun.

Now for an observation on skate-skiing, which I do a couple of times a week. It is kind of analagous to road-biking, being restricted to wide groomed trails (roads), and therefore a bit sterile and not so much fun in an exploratory way as charging into the wilderness on backcountry skis (which is my other pair of Nordic skis). However it is fun technically, as small gains in technique enable you to propel yourself more efficiently and with greater speed. It is competitive in the way cycling is, in that without acknowledging it, people engage constantly in subtle speed duels (well at least I do). When someone passes me, I try to up my speed to match them and stay with them. And if I see someone on the trail ahead, I do my best to catch up to them and pass them. This makes it 'fun' for me, otherwise I'm just going around in circles.

My first observation concerns the V2 skate technique. This is not the first one you learn, but a more advanced technique for high speed skating on flats and slight downhills. Personally I find it quite difficult, and unless I'm on a decent down-slope, I get out of breath doing it and it feels inefficient. So I'm usually doing V1 or V2 alternate. Now I see everyone else doing a lot of V2, as though it's the trendy thing, kinda like itty-bitty snowshoes with spikes. But it seems to me as though most of these V2'ers are quite inefficient and would be better off perfecting their V1 first (this I notice as I glide by them V1'ing).

That's it for today's observations. In the future I may actually say something that is helpful to somebody, if you are lucky.

Season over

2006-12-17T21:16:00.000-08:00

...for at least a few months now. Since then been cross-training, doing XYZ intervals and bulking up the lower fectoralis, to get ready for next season. I will have bionic surgery on my legs to rectify the problem I had with not enough power, speed or intensity.

But siriusly folks it was a great season. I moved up to Expert class, and it was nice to be racing against a group of rabid competitive freaks. There was rarely any 'pack fodder', so you actually had to work your butt off to not place last. Similar to last year, I didn't place so well in the first few races, due to the high number of contestants, and my specialized training program, where performance peaks assymptotically around June. Then all of a sudden I surged ahead in the standings, grabbing medal after medal - of course this started happening when attendance waned in the early months of summer - but hey even though I was in a huge field of often 2 or 3, I didn't DNF !:) So from Figure 1 below you can see I finished at the top of the point standings for Master Expert. This is really not too hard to do - it's mostly a matter of attendance. For some reason people are nuts about racing from March to maybe June, and then they stop showing up. Personally I'd much rather race in the summer than in the cold wet months of spring, but I'm in the minority. And the race schedule for next year is packed in spring, but there's like 1 race all summer - WTF? In fact there's many overlapping races, so it appears everbody's fighting to hold races during the peak seasons for mud and mosquitoes. You all @#$!:)

So as someone I know once said "Are You Dead !?". This is for all the people who may be reading this but don't comment. I'm just not getting enough stroking here. So say something, even something frivolous like "Dude!" or "Asshole!". Yes, that will make me feel better. Otherwise I will go back to my other career of playing my guitar stoned into the wee hours of the morning, recording it all on my 4-track, and then playing it back 6 years later and exclaiming "This stuff rocks!".

Watch out for the Giant Snow Chipmunks !

2006-11-12T21:10:00.000-08:00

Yes snow fever is rampant, and they're scurrying all over the place. I came back from the first ski of the season yesterday, and saw a few jittering around the parking lot. Why they just didn't get onto the trails, I have no idea. I was proceeding out of the parking lot in my vehicle, at approximately 5 mph, when all of a sudden one darted out in front me. Still having the summer tires on, I was unable to stop on the slippery snow surface, so I had to resort to honking the horn. The group began chittering at me as I smiled and waved - one was speaking German-chuk I think.

Then today I'm flying down a trail, and a couple of them are off to the side further down. But just as I get near them, one starts jumping out onto the trail, and I have to let forth with a bellowing yell to alert them to the fact that I am about to pulverize them. A couple of dirty looks, but tragedy is avoided.

4-hour tour

2006-10-29T20:26:00.000-08:00

Early start in the cold. Too frigid to go where I wanted to go - higher up, further - so opted for a 35 to 40 mile loop from my house. For some reason I thought it would take me 3 hours.

Cruising up Mrazek. This trail goes on forever. Don't daydream, the trees can be tight. I woke up from 1 such dream today - flying quickly over the handlebars as I snagged some part of my bike.

View from Farewell trail. Topped out at 6400 feet, where it was 41F. First time on trails on the DosNiner in 6 weeks. Forgotten how fast it slices and dices.

Nothing like an arc-en-ciel to finish your ride.

Of Snow and Ferns

2006-10-23T15:24:00.000-07:00

This past weekend enjoyed some microclimate extremes. Was planning a long 40-50 mile ride on Sunday at high altitude - up to almost 7000 ft - but earlier in the week we had a not insignificant dusting of the white stuff, with Bachelor reporting 8" at the base. That's at 6000 ft, but since then it rained and was sunny, so I figured it might have melted away. Just to be sure, headed up that way Saturday on a reconaissance mission.

Started out right at 6000 feet, with sporadic snow on the side of the road. Hit a few inches of snow right away as I climbed up MW (Metolius Windigo), and it got worse with minutes. This was expected, so retraced my tracks back to the road, and dropped down MW going South, expecting as I lost altitude the snow would disappear. It started looking good, with almost no snow at 5800, but then as I kept going down, the snow level increased... some wierd microclimate dumped a whole bunch more in the woods there. At first it was kinda fun, as with only 3-4 inches of snow, it was no problem making progress on a downhill slant, and jumping off little water bars onto snow was novel. But it got rather tiresome after a while. Even down to 5300, still consistent snow patches. And it was rather... unattractive. I was offended by the ugliness of it in some way. Just didn't look right.

After an hour or so of this finally left the snow behind at 5000 ft. Soon was time to turn around and go back. But wait, it's going to be a major pain in the ass going uphill through those snow sections. I check the map, and see if that I keep going, I can exit off another trail much further South, that will require sloggin uphill on the highway for 10 miles or so. All in all about 3 times the distance compared to retracing my steps, and still some unkowns as I've never been that way. But I go for it. And yeah the ride up the highway is extremely painful psychologically and physically. So the lesson we learn is that any trails above 5000 ft will have snow.

Talk to ChrisS that night, and he proposes a ride up King Castle, near the MRT. Much lower altitude, sure I'll go for it, even though it's a 1.5 hour drive. We meet up the next morning, and man what a lush experience - huge ferns towering beside the trail as it wanders through dense wood. Total contrast from my ride the previous day. This tough little trail offers up a 2600 vert ft. ride to a peak with a great view. Mostly uphill, so the downhill is a blast. Verrrrry smooth trail, and we encounter no one else on the way down. Some pretty high speeds, as I'm trying to keep up with Chris's teenage sons.

Then off to MRT to do a section of it up and back : from reservoir to Blue Pool. Lots of fun climbing up the damp lava sections. As we're resting at the Pool before our descent, talk to a guy on a shiny new Giant who's on his way down. He looks familiar... yep it's Adam Craig - World Cup mountain biker - he hangs out in Bend part of the year. Another rabid downhill chase soon ensues and then it's back to the High Desert - may as well give me some more snow, guess I'm ready.

MRT Ride #2

2006-10-15T19:12:00.000-07:00

Clear Lake through da trees

Sketchy bridge ride

The standard Blue Pool shot. It's behind there somewhere

YAB [Yet Another Bridge]

Log

Cut Log

Free lessons

2006-10-11T14:33:00.000-07:00

Thanks to all the [insert term here, like Redneck Asshole or Stressed Out Office Worker or Cell Phone Yakking Dork] drivers who provided me with free cycling etiquette lessons during my lunch hour ride today.

To the moron in the roundabout who deliberately slowed down when I entered the circle, thinking I was too close to him, then honked his horn to signal his displeasure : screw you - if you'd just kept going at normal speed, my pinpoint timing would have enabled an efficient flow of traffic through the roundabout. But no, you had to ruffle your feathers and puff out your chest in a big display, hoping this would 'teach me a lesson'. I'm sure your driving is perfect - the next time you cutoff a cement truck I hope it T-bones you and drives your vehicle up onto the roundabout sculpture for all to see.

To the idiot who sideswiped me in the bike lane after I'd turned right into the flow of traffic, remaining in the bike lanes the entire time. Were you angry that I didn't come to a complete stop ? Jealous that you can't do the same manoeuvre when you turn right ? So you decided it was a good idea to risk my life by throwing your 4,000 pound vehicle in my general direction ? Sounds like a great way to teach people what to do. I'm sure the little kids on bikes and their parents appreciate it. And I'm sure you always come to a complete stop before turning, and never cut any body off as you turn into traffic. People with glass windows in cars shouldn't throw their cars around. I just might be waiting with a large rock on the next corner, maybe teach you a little lesson my smashing your windshield should you fail to perform a turn to my liking.

Broken Top Ride-By

2006-10-09T22:30:00.000-07:00

A nice 25-miler or so, that loops you up near Broken Top. Plenty waterfalls on the way up North Fork.

Happy Valley. Fun wheelie-drop off bridge to get in. Happy logs and streams abound.

Up in the alpine tundra.

Detour up 4WD road to get to the Broken Top trailhead.

No bikes allowed past here. You can only look and drool.

On the trail again - back into the big trees.

Near and far. Before I was near Broken Top. Now I am far.

An amusing incident occured near the end of the ride, as I was cruising back on the last slight downhill. Just finished the high-speed traverse along the Tumalo trail, that switchbacks down the mountain side, with some great views. Was feeling amped and still going at a good pace, when I saw riders approaching. I reduced speed, planning on moving to the right of the wide trail when I got near them, when I heard an insistent ringing noise. Oh god, the guy's got a bell mounted on his handlebar, and is ringing it to save his life. Mayday! Mayday! Maniac coming down the trail at high speed! All hands on deck ! Red alert ! I slow down even more, so as not to panic this guy, feeling like he might fall off his bike if I got too close. And as I drift to the right of the trail, calling out a greeting, and conceding the center line (uphill riders have the right of way), he shouts out in a nasal voice : "Would you mind stopping and letting me go by, rather than riding off the trail!?". I grunt out an "Ok, sure" as I keep going, and wonder at the strangeness of someone who would try on the fly to instruct others on trail etiquette. Can't say I've ever encountered that before. And wait a second, that voice is familiar, I think I know who that is, it's the president or something of the local mountain biking organization - COTA. I've met him a few times before, seemed like a nice guy. But whoa dude, how miserable must your rides be if you spend the whole time worrying about how other people are treating the trails. Hey we're out in here in the wilderness, I don't need anyone telling me where I should or shouldn't point my wheel. Of course he's right in theory, but his method is confrontational and will surely backfire rather than achieve the intended results. Ne prenez pas la vache mon ami!

Urban Biking Terms

2006-10-09T22:29:00.000-07:00

Biking through city streets can be a blast, especially when racing against cars, and flouting traffic rules. Here are a few terms and techniques :

Piggybacking : when coming to a crowded 4-way stop intersection, piggybacking involves following beside a car that has already stopped and is now preceeding in the same direction you want to go. When the timing is just right, you can come flying into an intersection where cars are backed up at high speed, and barely slow down as you tag along beside a car that is speeding off in the right direction. This is an advanced technique that demands pin-point timing : follow too far behind, and you might get side-swiped by another car (since they often like to miss each other by inches). And watch out for turn signals, or the lack thereof.

Leapfrogging : when on a long stretch of road with stops and lights, you keep passing the same car over and over again, as they get slowed down by traffic or stops, while you scoot ahead in the bike lane. For added excitement, make obnoxious hand gestures to these drivers when you pass them.

Anticipated Green : Going through a red light when you know it is about to go green. For example the left turn arrows are on, and you are going straight. As soon as the left turn chute is empty in front of you, boot ahead through the red light. Hopefully it will turn green relatively soon, or that cop sitting way back may decide to bust you.

Head Fake and Ram : At a 4-way stop, do a head fake, so the driver thinks its safe to proceed. Once he starts moving, accelerate quickly to ramming speed and... oops, sorry, wrong place for this - see my Redneck Driving Tips blog entry.

The Sneak Across : When confronted with a light that has just gone red, and you need to get across the intersection, wait until traffic going in the other direction gets the left turn arrows and starts moving. Then take a right, proceed along until you're past the left-turners, then cut left through the lanes of stopped traffic, and ride the short distance back to the intersection - now you're on the other side ! Get out of there quick before someone figures it out.

Black Rock Ride

2006-10-08T20:30:00.000-07:00

This was a group ride put on by Hutch's bike shop - a social ride around the Paulina Peak / Newberry Crater National Monument thingy.

It's been an 'end-of-season' tradition for many years now.

Lots of people show up - maybe 40-50 ?

It's only a 20 mile ride, but over 3000 ft of climbing.

The high-speed pumice riding was a blast, once you got used to what felt like riding over a carpet of marbles. Note : this pic is not pumice, just regular dusty surface.

Ride of the Supers

2006-09-30T20:37:00.000-07:00

It was one of those days : flying along the trail, hucking everything in sight, attempting every obstacle, never getting tired.

I'd been waiting for a long ride for 3 weeks. Two weekends ago, Jennifer was away, the babysitter cancelled, and I was stuck around the house all weekend. I managed to get some exercise with the Shevlin Ridge baby stroller Criterium, which involved hooking up Rowan in the stroller behind my road bike, and doing laps around the neighbourhood while Carmyn waited in front of the house. Got in 5 or 6 high intensity laps before Rowan demanded release. Last weekend, I caught some nasty bug. Felt crappy Saturday, but decided an easy ride might make me feel better. Went off for a couple of hours with a buddy, exploring some trails at a very easy pace, but then had a major relapse later : fever, chills and sweating, and I was down for the count. Sunday had to flake out around the house doing absolutely nothing in order to recover.

Which brings us to today. Feeling good, and left the house around 10 am to hit the Edison to Lava trail, a 3-hour mini-epic that toasted me last year in the mid-summer heat. That was the first time I'd done it, and I remember two 'note to self's' after that ride : bring more water (remorseless heat beating down through the sparse tree canopy), and bring a full-suspension bike. So armed with 60 oz of Accelerade-infused Camelbak, and the Giant VT, with a plushy 5.75" rear, I was ready to attack the trail with gusto.

The drive there took barely 35 minutes, due to the eagerness with which I plied the Subaru's transmission. Upon arrival, I was minorly disappointed to note half the SnowPark had been taken over by construction vehicles (they're 'redoing' the road that leads up past there from SunRiver), and the other half by RV's that were associated with ATV type people. Edison SnowPark is a major hangout for snowmobiles in the winter. And oh yeah Snowshoers with Dogs also show up, wrecking the nice XC loop that can also be found there.

I decided on a good Tempo pace, which is a steady fast solo pace, way below race speed, but still gets you places fast. The trail starts off with nice winding singletrack through old growth, with several sections of burly lava thrown in. The tires were biting nicely (Schwalbe Tubeless Racing Ralph in the rear and a Knobby Nic in the front), and I was feeling the Flow. Mostly slightly uphill all the way to half-way point, where a trail leads up to Kowl Butte. Before this, the ATV trail blends into the singletrack, causing it to be double-track, but not too badly chewed up. Hit a major 4-foot diameter downed tree at one point, which no doubt was helping keep the ATV's out, as I saw nary a one. After the half-way point, the singletrack resumes and motorized transport is verbotten. And thence commences the downhill to Lava Lake - never really steep - but sustained and rendering you capable of some rather high speeds. Interspersed are many technical lava sections, and some beautiful launchers to huck off of. I recall having a good time down this last year on the DosNiner (no rear suspension to speak of), but now I was freaking flying down it (or so it seemed) at a much higher velocity. And spending much more time with both tires contacting nothing but air. As you descend, however, never far from consciousness is the fact that you will have to climb up all this stuff on the way back - and that is somewhat sobering. I remembered significant struggles from last year, as I laboured up steep loose sections, pushing the bike often, and cursing the folly of he who would so ignorantly descend in glee, so irresponsibly forgetful of the need to Return.

I reached Little Lava lake, stoked on the giddy descent. The previous year I took my snack and respite on the shores of this jewel-like lake. This year I continued instead to the right towards Big Lava Lake, and had my break there. Motors allowed on this lake, not as picturesque.

Now time for the grind back up to the half-way point. While barely twenty minutes to descend, I figured it could be up to an hour climbing back up. I went along happily enough, and stopped a few times for some photo shoots. I waited for the steep, loose, energy-sapping sections with some trepidation, hoping perhaps foolishly that the full-suspension bike would supply extra traction and allow me to sprightly scale those areas that had troubled me last year. The clock kept ticking, and I still had hit nothing steep. Oh, a few very short technical pieces had appeared, but they were easily attacked and thrown. As time wore on, I felt a swell of hope, thinking perhaps that I had passed all the steep sections ! But I'd been down this road before, only to have my hopes dashed as a wall of climbing suddenly appeared.
But this time... holy freaking time warp, I never hit the steeps ! All of a sudden I was at the half-way point, and I had easily climbed everything that had been thrown at me, and all the while barely breaking a sweat doing it ! It was then that I realized I was having one of those SuperHero days. I came upon a technical trail feature, one that was meant to be taken in the other direction, and involved riding a skinny up to a downed log, traversing the log for 20 feet or so while several feet in the air, and dropping off the end. I had dismissed it as too risky when passing it this year and last, but now with the Super-thing going on, I figured I'd better take a second look. Yup, doesn't look too bad - I can do it. Hit it with speed and confidence, and nailed it. Continued, remembering that there was a another one of these on the way back, and which was probably easier. Had another great downhill run on the other side back towards the starting point, wondering how I could generate so much speed here, when ascending it had seemed so gradual and easy. Saw the skinny to log transition, and as I flew onto it, I realized - oops - this is a little harder, longer, and skinnier than the other one, but enhanced mind-over-matter scoffed and swallowed it whole.

Back at the car I was hardly tired, and must remember this day, when others may not be so easy. Oh yeah, so my loop time was a few minutes faster this year, on a heavier bike, with a longer break on the Lake side, and with several photo-ops on the way back. And one more thing : Zero Hikers, Zero Bikers, Zero Dogs, and Zero Motos were encountered along the entire trail.

83 hikers, 11 dogs, 3 bikers

2006-09-17T20:27:00.000-07:00

That's what I encountered on the trail today, on a short 1h20m ride. Infestation ! And most of these within 2 miles of the parking lot, which was packed of course. Many of the hikers are grumpy about bikes, and only grudingly move aside. I carry a stick and wack on those who don't behave. They chase me - this is my training.

Rossland trip

2006-09-17T20:18:00.000-07:00

I went up to Rossland, B.C. to visit my friend Cory. But the day I took my camera out, Cory was sleeping. So I hung out with Cory's friend Mark, who is not as sleepy.

We went to the bike park at Red Mountain.

Race Report : Scotty Graham Memorial @ Mt Hood

2006-09-11T10:32:00.000-07:00

Ahhh, the last race of the year ! I thought the Firecracker would be my last, as I was feeling burnt out on racing for the season, but voicing this thought was met with cries of derision from my fellow racers, who convinced me to attend the last race. Curiously, many of these 'deriders' did not show up for the final event ! One reason to attend was that they'd be handing out the series awards, for points accumulated for the 4 SkiBowl races. I'd only hit 2 races, but was tied for 3rd in the standings.

As is usual for the Mt Hood area, you never know what you're going to get weather-wise. The previous day the high temp had been in the mid-forties, so I packed the goretex sox and a huge array of additional layers. But it turned out sunny and 70F, so donned the usual racing attire.

Felt kinda crappy doing my warmup intervals - not surprising since the previous day I had suffered similarly in my day-before intervals : hyperventilating, wheezing and feeling an asthmatic-like inability to gulp in enough air. It was a decent size start-group at the line for my heat : 8 40+'s, and a few women, singlespeeders, and assorted cripples and freaks. As expected, my start sucked : most of the pack surged ahead of me, including some of the women. I held back, knowing pushing it would only cause premature wheezilation. As the single-track approached, 5-10 minutes into the race, I went for a little surge, and passed a half-dozen riders. Soon hit some technical loose climbing, and the gap widened. At the start-line, I had heard the names of 2 uber-fast riders who regularly clean my clock [whatever the f*ck that means], so I knew only 3rd place was reasonably within reach. But then heard the name of another guy who beat me handlily the last race, so I knew even the 3rd spot would be tough to attain. I thought I saw this dude quite a ways ahead of me while we were still in the open.

Soon enough we were in the deep forest, and I was isolated in my own space. No noise of others ahead, nothing from behind. I lapsed into a relaxed tempo, not really caring to push it, and feeling that a good result was beyond my grasp today. On a switch-backing climb, I did catch a fleeting glimpse of a jersey ahead and above moving between trees, but it was too far away for motivation.
Came out into the open again, and could see what I assumed was the 'bronze medal dude', still way ahead of me. Did a time-check against a reference point, and measured the gap at around 50 seconds. Did the downhill back to the resort area, and commenced the second lap. Once again into the big trees and the silence. But after 10 minutes or so, hear a rider approaching from behind - oh-oh, somone's catching up! But I see the red plate designating a Pro rider, and let him by (they are doing some other combo of loops). This gets me going a bit, and try to match his pace for a spell. A few minutes later, another red plate, and I push some more. Coming out of the trees, I wonder if this 'pushing' has reduced the gap to bronze-guy (or did the same happen to him?), and see that it has. Now looks like less than 30 seconds !

Up Horse-Trail we go, a long steep loose climb. Bronzy's front tire washes out, he starts walking, and I'm right on his tail. I make some comment about the loose trail as I ease by him, and he grunts in response - hmm he does not appear happy to see me :) On a flat area he gets back on the bike, and is soon right behind me. But I am in the choice climbing line as it gets steep again, so he can't easily get by. I stay on the bike all the way up, and I guess he was off again, because by the time I reach the top I have got a nice gap. Next comes a downhill fire-road, leading into the technical downhill that finishes the second lap. I know the dude behind me is a fast descender, probably faster than me, so I keep it pinned. But as I start the 3rd lap I can see he's made up some of the gap. The last lap we have a shorter technical ride through the trees, and then up the main road to the last downhill. I rail the tree'd trail, and begin ascending the last climb. Start going into the red on the HRM, and see dude is close behind. It's now or never and I pin it up the climb. Drop into the downhill, and looks like I've dropped him as well.

I do indeed get third at the line, and second overall for the series. Only 2 and 4 minutes behind #2 and #1, so something to go on for next season. The dude I passed, who was pretty chatty with me last race, leaves the finish area quickly, and does not return for the little ceremony afterwards with prizes, raffle and beer.

Race Report : Falls City Firecracker

2006-08-29T20:03:00.000-07:00

The Firecracker is a unique race, sporting a short course multi-lap format [spectator friendly], and winding through a freeride area.

[hmm, how time flies - almost 3 weeks after the fact, I've only writ one sentence]

Was camping with the family at Alsea Falls, and packed up Sunday morning and drove the 2 hours or so to Falls City. Late start - noonish - so no big early morning panic scene. Mostly the same course as last year, with a little extra climbing thrown in at the top. The usual mediocre mid-summer crowd shows up, and there's lots of room as the race starts up the fire-road climb. I have a pretty good start - been training for that - and the first lap climb is done with great energy. The downhill is nice - lots of turns, jumps [but don't take the huge jumps marked with yellow flags - they're often massive freerider gap jumps]. Have to do 5 laps, and do high-fives with the family members each time around. Lap 4 is painful, and Lap 5 is quite a chore. I'm under 26 minutes the first lap, and up to almost 32 minutes on the last lap. Get 3rd out of 7. The first place guy is way ahead - like 15 minutes ahead of me. Hmm... the only other time I raced against him was at FTF where I beat him - are you sure you did 5 laps ? :)

Mackenzie River Trail Epic

2006-08-05T19:57:00.000-07:00

This is one of those 'must-do' trails in Oregon - supposedly people come from all over the country/continent/world to do this trail. So when people find out I live an hour away from it and haven't done it yet - well they find that a bit strange. But it's not an easy trail to do just on a whim - it's a 27 mile one-way trail that descends along the Mackenzie River. So you've got to get some biking friends together and organize shuttles - dropping off a car at the bottom, and then driving back up to the top and starting the trail from there. I mentioned it to a few people I know, and had some 'bites' - well maybe nibbles - but it didn't seem to generate any great excitement. I was hesitant to cast a wider net, as I'm afraid I'd catch those who have no idea what they're getting into - yeah sure I mountain bike ! - then they show up on an old squeaky rigid with no helmet gloves or water - let's go !

So I was mulling it over a beer Thursday night, and came up with a great idea to do it solo - I'll drop off my mountain bike at the top, drive to the bottom of the trail, park, and then ride my road bike up the road to the top - switch bikes - then sail on down the trail on the mountain bike. It still seemed like a good idea the next day, so off I went early Saturday morning with both bikes jammed into the back of the Subaru. In less than an hour I found the top trailhead, and locked my mountain bike to a tree - both bikes have the same seat post diameter, so I was able to avoid leaving a $200 seat+post present to any would-be thieves. Of course not
expecting much thievery in the middle of the woods, but been bitten before... Drove down the road a few miles, and hit a major repaving scene, where it was 1-way traffic for a 5 mile + section - had to wait a while for the North-bound cars. Hmm, that fresh black stuff may not be too pleasant on the bike...

After 20 miles it seemed I should be getting near to the Ranger Station where they recommended parking - don't see it yet - but here's a sign for a Recreation Information Centre, yeah pulled in there to grab a free map and a visit to a stall. Then keep on going, through a little town, hmm should have hit it by now. Too far, go back, where the !#$!#@ is the trailhead and/or the Ranger Station ? See a trail sign and pull over to a little parking area on the left on the river bank. Yup : river, trail, this will do. No Ranger Station, but maybe they moved it since the guide book was written 6 years ago.

Get geared up, and start back along the road. After a mile I see a sign for a Ranger Station. Oh. That's the building I was in earlier where I got the map - dumbass ! The road is fairly flat to start off with, and I'm averaging close to 18 mph. Not pushing too hard, usually 90% or so of threshold. Don't want to kill myself before the fun stuff starts - yet again don't want to spend all day on hot tarmac with traffic. Then the climing starts, and speed goes way down. Not much scenery, kind of a boring ride. The climb is a nice grade - and only 2000 feet of elevation to go to the top. I hit the construction area, and cars are backed up for a while. Pass them all on the right, and am about to find out whether the lollipop person makes me wait or not with the cars. Nope, it' s cool to go ahead, and I hear a stream of warnings about trucks and road conditions as I move ahead.
The semi-fresh blacktop makes wierd squishing/sizzling noises, but the tires seem to be handling it OK. I large construction vehicle approaches me head-on, but there's plenty of room. Just as it passes me, I feel something hit me in the chest, and feel a searing burning pain. Damn, must have been a hot piece of fresh blacktop stuck in its tires that flew off, went into my jersey through the half-zippered opening, and burned me. I smack at the burning area with a free hand, but don't feel any lump. It keeps stinging, but can't look as have to keep my tires going straight on the greasy surface, and pay attention to trucks moving this way and that.

Finally reach the end of the zone, and still haven't been passed by any of the North-bound vehicles - suckers ! Get to the trailhead in an hour and 20 minutes. The VT is still there on its tree, and I do the swap. I figure I can do the 26.5 mile downhill in maybe 3 hours, taking it easy, snapping photos, etc. Turns out I was way off. A couple of miles into the trail, you're faced with an option, where you can go right around Clear Lake through a camping area, or go left through sharp lava fields. Hmm, which way do you think I went ? :) Yes, give me the lava ! It is indeed quite technical, with intense lumpy lava climbs and precarious on-the-edge-of-the-lake lava turns. I have to back off on a few of the technical sections, where one slip-up could mean flesh and bone shredded by unyielding sharp lava. Maybe with shin-pads and flat pedals I'd attempt it all. At one point the trail becomes Extreme Lava, and then I guess they got tired of all the law-suits, because after that they paved the sucker for the last mile until the end of the lake. I get confused at an intersection, and start up the other side of the lake, which is probably wrong... turn back - hey my only mistake of the day.

The trail is sweet - lots of swoopy high-speed stuff mingled with technical sections. Snap a few pix of deep blue water. After almost 1.5 hours of this, take a break at an intersection and look at the map to guage my progress. Maybe I'm halfway ? Oops, try 1/6th of the way. Yeah I'm at the 4.1 mile marker, only 22.4 miles to go. Holy #!#@ this is going to take a while ! The river disappears for a while, and then a long while, and the trail gets a bit boring. Hey, I didn't sign up for the Mackenzie Forest Trail, where's the freaking river - I want more waterfalls and blue pools and what-not. Finally see a sign - Blue Pool - and it's pretty spectacular - a huge deep blue pool sunk in the rock. Take pix, but still wondering where the river is. Some dude comes by and mentions that the river goes underground for many miles - covered by an ancient lava flow, and pops out at this Blue Pool. Ok, we're back in business. He asks me if it's difficult negotiating the rough trail on the bike, and I'm like uh, it's really quite a smooth trail, don't see where you get the idea it's rough... Continue on, and then I see what he's talking about, because right after Blue Pool comes several miles of intense lava - lots of technical climbing, nice boulder-strewn rock chutes, etc. Glad I've got the full suspension with 5+5.

The hours tick by and the riding gets smoother and smoother,
Very nice, but when's it going to end ?:) I'm about ready now for that cold drink in my cooler. Several times check the map, and I'm not encouraged by my progress. Start pushing the pace, ripping the downhills and spinning quickly up the hills. Raise my seat back up to where it usually is, and instantly feel a surge of power - I guess my muscles are conditioned to that. At around the 3-hour mark I feel I should be getting close to the end. Talk to some other bikers, and they think it's another 15 miles or so. What, I was thinking 5... As it turns out it was probably closer to 10. Finally reach my car after 4-hours of descending, camelbak drained (10 minutes b4) and brain and body equally drained. It's 4pm, a total elapsed time of 5.5 hours since I left my car. Drink the luscious cold shake I had stashed in my cooler - only 12 ounces left, wish I had 3 times that. Then drive home fast - not forgetting to pick up the Opus waiting chained to its tree - and gorge myself with various beverages and seared bovine flesh.

Race Report : Oakridge Fat Tire Fest

2006-07-24T22:23:00.000-07:00

The heat wave descended, and everyone ran for cover. A road race got cancelled, and there was talk of shortening the mountain bike course. What's the big deal I thought, just bring a bit more water and watch out for Puffy Exploding Tomato Head. But that was before I tried climbing The Wall twice in 100F heat.

The Oakridge Fat Tire Fest is a popular mid-summer race with great singletrack and a mountain-town atmosphere. With a 3-week break since the last race, I had time to bump up the training a bit in preparation. I was feeling good until 2 days before the race, whereupon I became steeped in Guilt. On Friday the heat wave was coming on in full force, and the cold beer was going down sooooo eaily. I was up to 4 or 5 by the time I crashed out, and was feeling slightly fuzzy the next morning. No problem, I'll just do a quick 1-hour prep ride and shake out the system. That seemed to work, but then one of those guilt voices started coming out with tidbits like : "Great, you trained hard all week, and then you negated it all in one night by throwing down all those beers - what a waste of time. Why do you bother training at all...", etc. etc. To make matters more difficult, today was the company family picnic. Nice relaxing time hanging out with mine and other families, but the umm beer was free.... so I had to have a few, being in the hot sun and all, and seeing as how others were quaffing as well. Now the guilt voice was having a hey-day, reminding me quite often about my transgressions. But what's done is done, so we'll see what happens on race-day.

Drove up the next morning, and by the time the race started at 10:30 am, it was already 95F. Seemed worse than Bend, probably because it was a bit more humid. We had a vote beforehand on shortening the course, but it was overwhelmingly in favour of doing it the long way. Yeahhhh! - insert chest-beating and yee-hawing here. So one long lap to the very top of the mountain, and a slightly shorter lap following. 'The Wall' is about a thousand feet of steepish logging road climbing. Nothing crazy, but it's a relentless grade and is out there baking in the hot sun. The first time up it, I'm spinning nicely in my lowest gear, and just railing up the climb. Being on a 29er with regular 26" gearing, that's the equivalent of 2nd or 3rd gear on a 26". The field gets spread out, and that usually means no one in your way for the awesome singletrack descent on the other side.

Start the second lap. Am by myself and kind of daydreaming, rolling along in the shaded singletrack before the big climb, when all of a sudden I realize I'm off course. How the f*ck did that happen - takes me a minute or so to figure it out, and then I'm back on it. A couple people passed me me - can see them slightly ahead when get out onto the road. I push a little harder, as is often the case, and as the grade increases on reaching the beginning of the Wall, I realize I am not feeling that great. It's 104F this lap, and the dirt road is radiating heat like a black-top parking lot. I start to feel a bit of Tomato Head coming on, and try to back off. But the problem is I can't gear down, being on the lowest gear already, and I don't want to walk, so keep surging ahead. Suddenly I'm not having fun anymore, in fact this is definitely torture ! I want it to be over, but I'm barely pass the half-way point on the climb. My limbs start to become jelly-like, and I think of all those adjectives they've been using on the Tour de France commentaries, like 'popped', 'cracked', 'blown'. "Yes, Fortier's popped, he's slowing way down now, the peloton will surely catch him".

Manage to stay on the bike all the way up, but yeah I'm blown. Can't say it's ever happened that badly before. I keep looking behind to see who's catching up, but no one is in sight. Probably they've all blown too ? The ensuing singletrack descent requires all my attention, as it is only with great effort that I manage to keep the rubber on the dirt, and not careening out of control down the embankments or into trees. The slightest short uphill causes pathetic wheezing and tightening and cramping of muscles. Eat and drink as much as I can, and in the last few miles to the finish I'm actually starting to recover - or is that just because it's flat ? I grab the last podium spot. Only 5 of the 8 starters in my class finish - plenty of DNF's all around. So next time, drink more during race ? Drink less (beer) before race ? Pop more of those electrolyte capsules ? I downed 1 before the race, but forgot about them after that. Maybe some patches on the sack - nudge nudge wink wink.

The BeerJammer Lives

2006-07-24T22:12:00.000-07:00

The beast is finally built. Start with the Chromag Samurai frame I won in the 2004 GearJammer, mix in a bunch of parts from my Ellesworth Joker which was stolen in 2002 and recovered in 2005, sprinkle with bits and pieces from my 1997 Gary Fisher Joshua, and voila - BeerJammer.

There are many stories woven into the parts list on this Franken-Bike. First of all the frame, built in Squamish by Mike Truelove. I was endlessly needled by the local Squam-Folk about doing something with this frame. It moved with me to Bend, still in the pupae stage of being just a frame. Then last year, when I finally recovered my Joker from the cop-shop in Victoria, B.C. - a long process which culminated in some gracious souls taking care of packing it onto the bus to Squamish - and me showing up with some 6-packs of Oregon beer to reclaim it - I decided that many of the non-deceased parts of the Joker would migrate onto the Chromag frame. Alas, my first move in this direction was met with confusion and dismay, as fitting a standard rear hub onto the frame proved impossible : the spacing was only 120mm, well off the industry standard of 135. Conversations with the builder determined that 135 was indeed the original spec, and I can only theorize that in the journey to Bend in the moving truck, the frame got squished down to an unusable width. Yanking and tweaking it this way and that yielded another 5mm gain in width, still a far cry from what was required. The frame once again crept into a dark corner of neglect, and dust and spiderwebs were its only companions.

About a month ago, I mentioned the problem to Pat, a wrench at the Hutch's shop, and he said he'd worked on a few similar problems before, and could take a look-see. Not expecting much, I dropped it off, and a few days later received a call that it was done. Supposedly it took a few guys standing on various parts of the frame and pulling it, and we were back in business. They didn't even charge me - I really should drop off a 6-pack there :) Then boxed up the parts I'd pulled off the old Joker and Joshua, and took it down to Web Cyclery for the build up.

Other notable parts :

Shimano D321 downhill disk wheel : front wheel from the Joker. On the Freeride Tour trip I was on in 2001, we were doing some North Van trail in the rain - I think it was Lower Ladies or Oil Can or something - and I lost it bigtime down this rock chute - taco'd my RhinoLite. Bought the Shimano a few hours later. This is also why I've always had big patches of black duct-tape on my blue Goretex jacket : shredded it in the slide.

Raceface yellow cranks : from the Joshua. There was no problem really with my original cranks, but these were so shiny and yellow and went with the bike perfectly - I had to have them.

Front Hayes Mag orange brake : went to front disks on the Joshua. Got it from Tantalus - I think it was original equipment on a Rocky Mountain - special orange spec. For some reason it was on the Joker when it got stolen - glad it came back.

Slapped on the Geax Barro Marathon tires I won at the Outback Challenge a few weeks ago - front is a 2.3 - nice and meaty. The rear 2.1 looks about half the size. Dirtrag chainstay protector from same race.

Silver Chris King headset from Joker.

Rockshox Psylo fork from Joshua. Cracked my original Manitou fork on the BarberChair trail in Crumpet woods : that steep rock chute followed by a quick right hand turn. Didn't make turn, hit tree.

Race Report : Outback Challenge

2006-07-05T21:46:00.000-07:00

Third race weekend in a row. This time it's in Lakeview, in South-Central Oregon, in an area known as 'The Outback'. The town is the highest in Oregon, and the race starts above 6000 feet. Only a coyote hair over a 3-hour drive from Bend, but it seems like I was the only one from here to make the trek. Of course this means no 'Bend-factor', allowing me to place up there in my age group - but conversely the category will probably be sparsely populated.

Do the scenic drive on Saturday afternoon, arriving at the race start area up in the mountains around 7 pm. Not a soul in sight, but plenty of whining mosquitoes. A quick scan of a hard-to-read map I printed out from the web-site, shows a camping area a few miles down one road. This is confirmed by the road atlas, so head that way. Lots of roads branching off everywhere, so accomodations should be easy to find tonight. Find the Twin Springs camping area, and cruise in. Hmm, just one tiny loop road, with one group of campers in there. See bikes, so stop and chat. They have a fire going to ward off the pesky flying critters, and a nice spot backdropped against some rocks, with a spring gushing some water out of a pipe. I decide to move in next-door, and commence camp setup.

The mosquito situation, which I had been warned of, was just plain out-of-control. Hundreds, perhaps thousands swarming all over you. I put on full coverage, spray myself down, and finally put to good use the bug head-net I bought a long time ago and never used. Cuts down on vision, but allows some sanity. Finally the tent is up, and bag, pad and pillow are quickly stuffed in with minimal zipper-openage. Grab a beer and head over to the other site to enjoy the smoke of their fire. It would seem the mosquito density is proportional to the square or cube of the distance from the fire. Forays off to a tree to relieve oneself are quick proof of that. I mooch a hot-dog, and hang out with this biking family for a while : Mom, Pop and Junior are all doing the race. Then back to my spot, where grab another cold one and build a fire. Tons of fuel around, I've got one blazing in a few minutes.

The night is peaceful, with only frogs and crickets, and no wedding partiers. One miserable moment during the night, as get out of the tent to pee, and am of course swarmed by skeeters. Brush off as many as I can before zipping into the tent, but several are able to piggy-back in, and spend some time executing them all. But of course in the morning I realize my kill ratio was not 100%, as fat little blood-gorged suckers are hanging out on the netting, waiting for me to release them so they can go forth and multiply. Splat! Not.

Another hot day awaits it would seem. And even in the blazing sun the bugs persist somewhat. The turnout is small - maybe 20 Sport/Expert/Pro riders are lined up for the 10 am start. We have just been briefed on the course - it is mildly confusing with a few key intersections to pay attention to. I listen carefully and commit it to [my faulty] memory, as don't want to make a wrong turn for the third race in a row. We set off, and I don't know if it's the altitude or what, but I'm hyperventilating 30 seconds in - probably the crappiest start I've ever had. We do one initial loop that's maybe 5 miles long, before heading to the main loop which everybody will do, and then Experts get to do half of it again. Manage to calm things down halfway through this first loop, and I'm riding along with TomC - who's in my class, and a Sport guy I know - JustinT who has caught up to me. We hit the first intersection, and Tom slows down to go left, but my memory actually works here and I advise we go straight. To add confusion, another rider is now coming back towards us, thinking he should take that left as well - he had gone ahead but freaked out thinking he went the wrong way. Tsk, tsk, don't these people pay attention ? :) I direct them all to go straight ahead. Wrong-way guy is in lower age group expert, and we converse a bit. He mentions it's only his second mountain bike ride of the year - he's a big road racer. We break away from the rest, and I guess that I'll probably drop this roadie on the first downhill or technical area. But surprisingly, he hangs onto my wheel as we drop around the other side of the first mountain, and as we finish that loop he's still there.

Start the main loop. Visibility is great up here with the lack of trees, and there's no one else in sight ahead. No incentive to race hard from the lack of other competitors in my class, but I'm determined to stay ahead of the Roadie, and also the Sport guy not too far behind. A long downhill at the Southern end of the loop allows me to gain a few seconds on Roadie, and Sport is no longer visible behind. Traverse a long section in open meadow, and do frequent head turning to check on Roadie's progress behind me. Slightly gaining I think, and as we start a long steep loose climb up to repeat the main loop, he's only 20 or 30 feet behind. Dammit ! But this gives me reason to push... The middle section is a dismount for me, and for him as well. Top third is steep, but smooth and rideable I think - yep. Reach the top, and my lead is now significant. Hit the downhill and the meadow, and no one behind me now. Pass many Sport racers. No idea when to initiate finishing kick, but estimate it OK with a few miles to go, and come in at 2.5 hours - fifth overall in Expert/Pro.

Am socializing around the finish area, when I realize I don't see Tom around - he couldn't be that far behind ? Mention it to someone and they start laughing - they know the guy, and they said he beat a hasty retreat after getting lost and pissed off. Apparently the second time he hit that intersection people were so confused about, he mistakenly went left, and ended back in the start area. Then had some wipe-out turning around, went back the way he came, and then a few minutes later he was seen riding back to his truck, throwing the bike in the back, and then peeling away in a cloud of dust. So I end up getting first in my class - the only one who finished. Cool medals were had by many people, and lots of great raffle prizes. Had some difficulty carrying all the loot back to the car.

Well I hope next year the race is scheduled without the numerous competing events that were happening this long weekend : there was another race at Mt Hood the previous day (gets the Portland crowd), some important road race, and a Mountain bike clinic in Bend. And maybe have it in August like last year - won't the skeeters be all dead by then ?:)

Race Report : Return on the Jedi

2006-06-28T21:23:00.000-07:00

Many speak of the legend of the Jedi trail, in hushed tones describing the giddy flow of its high speed descent in the shadow of giant trees. Indeed it is a hard-sought treasure, perched up in the South Western Oregon mountains, accesible only by a treacherous winding single lane road.

My journey started auspiciously. Picking up some last-minute supplies at the grocery store, I was carrying the bags back to the car when I realized I had forgotten to get ice. Not wanting to stand in line again, I decided I would just 'borrow' a couple of bags of ice, and pay for it some other day. As I furtively approached the ice-cooler, trying to appear nonchalant, I was dismayed to see that the cashier who had checked me out, was standing not too far away, arranging some items on display. Surely if she happens to look up and see me reaching into the cooler, she will sound the alarm, knowing that I did not ask for any ice. I decide to go for it, and make haste with my exit. Loading everything into the car, I am expecting at any second the sound of trampling feet, and an exultant shout of "There he is - the guy who didn't pay for the ice!". But I make a clean getaway.

As I head South on 97, I see an electronic signboard mentioning a vehicle accident at Milepost 196. I estimate that I am probably exiting a bit before this, so pay little heed to it. However some time later I hit stopped traffic, and assume my calculations were a little off. After half an hour of waiting, whilst I eat a sandwhich and stuff my self with various other food and drink, I finally exit my vehicle and meander around, trying to see what's going on ahead. A truck driver yells out of his cab window at me : "It's backed up 3 miles!". Then he too exits his vehicle, and engages me in conversation. He is Canadian, from Toronto, and has no idea where he is - just that he's carrying a load to San Francisco. Apparently the highway has been closed for several hours, as the accident ahead is quite serious. After almost an hour of waiting, the line of cars starts moving slowly forward. Pass the accident scene, and it is one of signficant devastation. I see one crumpled vehicle, and the shattered remains of what was maybe a motor-home. Then, bodybags lying to the side, not empty... Gruesome.

3 more hours of driving, and I'm going West after passing by Grant's Pass. Miss it the first time, but turn around and find the 'winding single lane paved road', which I need to follow for 14 miles to get to the campground where the race starts from. This road is unreal - very twisty, and constantly ascending, paralleling a deep chasm to one side. I see the occasional bike race sign, along with signs to someone's wedding. I am hoping the destination for both groups will not be the same. Finally reach the campground just as it's getting dark, and manage to grab a descent spot. As I start unloading, I am aware of 2 things : there are many cars with bikes on them in the various camp sites, and there is loud music and hollering going on in the near distance - must be the wedding. The incongruity of the situation is rather amusing : on the one hand you've got your bike racers, a group that wants to go to bed early and arise refreshed, ready to race. And on the other hand, you've got hard-core wedding partiers that have quite a different goal. I think about moving further from the noise, maybe another campground - but I've got earplugs, I'll stick it out. As I walk to the pay station to submit my camping dues, I see bikers making ready with their equipment, and also encounter groups of drunken wedding-goers wandering aimlessly. At one point I am surrounded by a few of the inebriates, who decide that they want my headlamp. I bristle a bit, preparing to deal with a potential altercation, but defuse it with humour and questions, and I think it was all harmless anyways.

At 10 pm, the generator at the wedding party is shut-off, and the related sounds die down quickly. So should be able to get some rest. During the night, there are a few outbreaks of hooting and hollering, but mostly I hear the soothing sound of a rushing stream in the distance.

The next day dawns cool, but by race start at 10 am the sun is burning down forcefully. After a short singletrack teaser, we start the main climb up a forest road. After an hour or so of grinding upwards - a 2000 foot climb - get a short high speed descent (35mph) - then more climbing on singletrack. This is loose, and I'm forced to walk a bit. Finally at the top, and what follows is an epic 2200 foot descent. Above treeline at the top, running through rocky slopes. I crash here for the first time in a while, and actually bloody my arm up - cool! I see someone in front of me bleeding from the same place. Back into the trees for more fun steep switchbacking descents. Finally at the bottom, where the trail starts paralleling that chasm with the road on the other side - must be some climbing still to go. I come around a corner, and the trail seems to split in two, without a sign as to which way to go. Straight ahead leads down towards the stream, while left switches up the hill. Someone comes up from below, carrying their bike, unsure of which way to go. I think, well if there's no sign, we must go straight by default. He says he saw some bike tracks down below, but they seemed to dead end at the stream, so he came back. We both decide to head down to check it out. There's a steep off-camber rock section, where he takes an ugly-looking flip over the bars onto the rock, but appears to be OK. Down at the bottom, it appears the only way we could continue would be to ford the stream. Finally some sense gets knocked back into me, and I say 'This just isn't right', and we climb back up. Shit, another race, another screw-up - how long did this cost me ?

Get back on what must be the right trail, and start to hammer hard to make up time. Soon encounter another rider ahead, and it's ChrisS. I realize I need to pass him decisively or he'll hang on my wheel, so push hard as I go by. Keep going hard, and soon and I'm not feeling so good. Looking down at my monitor, I can see my heart rate at 5% above max, a zone it's never been in before in a race. Slow down a bit to recover, but it stays up. Hmm, this is not good. Maybe I am as they say 'blowing up' ? Finally stop worrying about it, and just go as hard as I can. Pass a few other people, some which I already passed earlier. The climb is relentless, a cruel way to end a race ! Finally pass a water station, where they say only 5 miles to go, and all downhill. This is the Jedi trail, which is high-speed swooping magic. OK, this is an awesome way to end a race. Come out to the finish, and don't see that many people around, so perhaps I wasn't burnt too bad by my diversion.

As it turns out, I lost 4 minutes going the wrong way, and this had absolutely no effect on my placing. But it was close - I got 1st place in Expert 40+, but 2nd and 3rd were only a minute behind. Didn't know I had first until the awards ceremony - and got to stand on one of them there high boxes, with lower boxes on each side. This race was also the last of a 3-race series, and there were awards for this - and I won that too in my category : got some funky etched glass thing you can see in the pic below. I could be humble and mention that if the other guy who was ahead of me on points had shown up, he probably would have won. But instead I think I'll just say "Eat my dust!"

Race Report : Mt. Hood SkiBowl

2006-06-19T21:15:00.000-07:00

Last year I attempted this race, but fell a bit short, as the family camping trip near the race site didn't exactly work out : a night of heavy cold rain which leaked into the tent, freezing temperatures and some snow the morning of, and general miserable damp conditions. So yeah we got out of there fast and went back to bask in the normal climate of Bend.

But things looked much better as I made the drive up to Mt Hood on Sunday morning. Sunny skies and warm temperatures. Was feeling somewhat crappy after a 2-week hiatus from training [the family DisneyLand/camping trip], but at least no ass-freezing would occur. Drove into the SkiBowl parking lot, and picked a nice shady spot to park. Got out of the car and - what the f*ck!? - I am greeted by a blast of icy cold air ! Check the thermometer - yup, it's 11C and windy. Quickly add some layers to my shorts and sandals attire, and repark the car in a nice sunny spot. This place definitely has its own micro-climate.

Luckily I had thrown a few cold-weather riding items into the car at the last minute : Goretex sox and whatnot, so I couldn't wimp out and drive home.

We lined up at the start, and they began going over the course. The course director held up a large cardboard map of the trails, and described the navigation procedure. Now if you recall the Mt Hood race I reported on last year, you remember how I bitched about all the intersections, and how various age groups and classes all got routed differently and it was very confusing. Course marshals were similarly confused, frequently sending people in the wrong direction, and their timing was all screwed up as there were parts of the course were racers were going in both directions on the single-track. Well as I listened to all the various loops and turns we had to do today, my eyes becoming crossed and my brain cramping, I realized this might be deja-vu all over again [yep that's redundant but it sounds right]. But hey maybe they fixed up their procedures and it would all work out. What's this, since I'm in the Expert 40+ category, I get to wear a pink ribbon on my handlebar to facilitate the marshall's job ? Hey that's brilliant, or very stupid, I'm not sure :)

The race starts and as expected [psyche!] I feel somewhat weak and wheezy. We start climbing up the face of the main ski run - for the enjoyment of the crowd which is watching the downhill race which is just finishing up. My friend Chris passes me at the bottom of the climb - and I foresee a strenuous back-and-forth friendly competition between us today. But suddenly he pulls over, and I look back and see him flipping his bike - some mechanical problem. Now there are only 3 other 'pink-ribbons' to worry about - I think I see them ahead.

We grind up the steep switchbacking climb - which is actually an intermediate downhiller trail. I have a new tire on the back for increased cornering traction, but unfortunately it appears to lack climbing traction, and I'm spinning out frequently.

I'll skip the next hour or so until we get to the fun juicy bits. So it's past the halfway mark in the race, and we're climbing up a horrendously steep ski run which just goes on and on. The trail is loose and rutted, and if it was 1 degree steeper I'd probably be walking. I've been in a group of 5 or 6 riders for the last little while, but myself and another guy are climbing well, and we open up a significant gap. At the top of the climb, he goes left and I go right - I have a pink ribbon, so the marshall sends us both the right way. Actually the marshalls have been pretty good so far, so I'm thinking perhaps there will be no screw-ups. Trying to maintain the gap, I pound down the ensuing fire road at high speed. As I come around a corner, I am confronted with a confusing scenario : there is a sign that directs Pro/Expert to go left, and another sign that directs Sport/Beginner to go right. Well, this is the first time I've seen a sign like this all day, but anything's possible... The confusing bit is that there is a small log lying across the Pro/Expert trail entrance, as if to deter entry. My tired and sweating brain determines that the log is to prevent the less-experienced racers from picking that line, and that Pro/Experts should just hop across and keep going. Makes sense, so I go for it. The trail goes into the woods and starts descending rather steeply - soon large rocks appear, and I am going off 2-3 foot drops. At this point, several voices in my head all start talking at once. Voice #1 is 'stoked' that they picked such a cool steep technical line for part of the course, and is basically saying "Woohoo!". Voice #2 is saying this is starting to look wrong and you should turn back. Voice #3 is being the calm collected optimist - stating that this is probably just a short section and must be the right way - don't worry about it. As the trail gets gnarlier and gnarlier, and I note the lack of small race signs which have been tacked onto the trees in the other parts of the course, I begin to slow down and pay heed to Voice #2. Finally at a full stop, I look up at the intimidating climb that faces me if I decide to retrace my steps. That sucks. I turn to keep going, but the Voice#2 is strong and makes me hump my bike back up the trail - maybe there was another trail entrance that I missed on the left. Get to the top [probably lost no more than 5 minutes with this diversion?], see no other trails, and again look at those initial signs. I am frozen with indecision. I rider comes by with a hand-drawn plate. He says he is in Expert, and asks me where we should go. I quickly describe what I just did, and then he says he's going right. What the hell, I follow him. Probably totally off-course, stupid race !:)

We go down the downhill run that we first climbed up. I can see pretty far down the hill, and see no racers I recognize ahead that were in the group I gapped earlier - could they still be behind even after I went off-course ? Or maybe my diversion lasted longer than I thought ? Hey maybe they made some other wrong turn. Get to the bottom, and we go over the bridge for the last lap. At the major SNAFU intersection, I am thinking I have to go up that big strenuous climb again, but I am directed up a different road, that leads back to the downhill I just did. Head for the finish line, with no one around me in front or behind. As I come through, I hear 'First Place, 40+', and am handed a gold medal. OK, now I know I screwed up - there's no way I can be first, not in Expert, and not with that diversion I took. I talk to other racers that have finished, trying to figure out if I went the right way - and apparently I did. Except for the 'Diversion' of course : it turns out those signs I misinterpreted were actually for the downhill race which happened earlier in the day - so I was XC'ing my way down the ProExpert downhill course - cool - maybe I should enter the Hardtail class in that race next time.

As racers cross the line, I hear more and more stories about misdirections and confusion. Maybe this is some kind of Love/Hate Codependency disfunctionality going on here. The race organizers fiendishly craft complicated race courses, and the racers love bitching about it afterwards. I am about to leave, and decide to look more closely at the results, as I still don't believe my first place finish. I ask the finishing line dude if I can check out the nametags and results board, and I see a name I recognize - someone who's usually way ahead of me - check their time - yup, that's faster than me. So I hand them the Gold medal and ask for the Silver. The guy gives me a funny look, as if I'm trying to pull something on him, then comprehension dawns and he swaps the medals and thanks me for being honest. Well they would have figured it out sooner or later anyways. At least I got some hardware - no great achievement as only 5 in my class - and maintain my #1 ranking in the Expert 40+ standings [at least until the really fast guys start showing up at more races:)]

Race Report : Humbug Hurry-Up

2006-06-19T21:14:00.000-07:00

This race with a wierd name is a must-do on my list, so even though I would be pretty sacked from the 42-mile race in Bend the previous day, I decided to give it a go. I would take it easy, and strap on my helmet cam to get some cool video footage. If you haven't read my entry from last year about this race, I'll just say it's a classic, with all the elements that make for a great experience : swoopy fun single track to start off, then a 1500 foot climb of forest road with some single track thrown in here and there, a plateau section at the top with amazing views, then a steep loose descent they call 'The Chute' [they say it with reverance, but for anyone who's descended Rock'n'Roll in Squamish it's rather tame], followed by a long section of razor-thin trail that hugs steep hillsides all the way to the bottom. You do this twice, and then there's a mile long flattish section to the finish line, where you can get into those fun give-it-all-you've-got battles with other riders doing the same.

This Northern California race would mark the start of a 2-week family vacation in mostly Southern Cal. We hit the beautiful and private Tree Haven campsite, NE of Yreka along the Klamath River, around dusk on Saturday. Hopes of a good night's sleep were dashed when our air mattress sprung a leak. Tried to fix it with some bike tire patches, but it didn't work out. Then out came the duct tape, and I crafted a huge solid patch which I thought for sure would hold - but the damn air just kept worming its way through. So a mostly sleepless and uncomfortable night - I think I had maybe an hour's solid sleep. Well at least I wasn't hung up about doing well in the race :)

Did virtually no warm-up before the race - trying to conserve energy - and got the helmet cam all wired up. We started lemans-style, and I loped along robotically to my bike, trying not to gyrate the camera too much. Stayed near the back as the riders surged ahead, deciding to keep a steady pace rather than initiate a go-for-broke start. After a few minutes, I realize I don't feel too bad, and start passing people here and there. On the long climb up, I keep waiting for some system malfunction, but it doesn't happen. I'm going along at what feels like 90-95% normal pace. But feel the effort exponentially increase everytime I do a small surge, so keep it steady. Do the awesome downhill, and start up lap #2. Still feeling pretty good - this is great ! - who'd have thunk it ? Am constantly switching the vidcam on/off, and frequently interviewing people as I ride beside them. In the last lap I yo-yo with this DeSalvo guy, who wastes me on the climbs, but I blast by him on the downhills when I catch him up. After the last downhill, there's a mile and a half of flat before the finish. He surges ahead here, while I decide to conserve energy, realizing I only have enough for probably a 30-sec to 1 minute attack at the finish. Coming into the roped off finish area, I see him just ahead, and go for broke. Less than 200 feet to go, and I blow by him on the inside and carry it to the line. I manage to finish just off the podium in 4th. Awesome, now let's get into vacation mode!

Race Report : Pickett's Charge

2006-06-19T21:13:00.000-07:00

This is #2 in the local Bend racing scene - sure to bring out all the local semi-retired ex-pro uber-aerobic genetically mutated exercise freaks. Can't recall too much, since this happened over 2 weeks ago [my memory chips are faulty], so I'll be brief.

It's a great course with mucho single track, though very little elevation gain. It features a fun mostly uphill technical lava section, with lots of rock steps and lava chunk navigation, sure to irritate those who assume Bend trails are all smooth cruisers. A few log pyramids thrown in, and a great high speed sweeper section to finish off the lap. Each lap is 21 miles, and we had to do 2 of them.

Many feared another dust-storm, a la Chainbreaker, but the weather gods sprinkled showers down a bit every day leading up to the event, so people could leave the dust-masks behind.

For me it was a pretty uneventful race - I passed some poeple, some passed me, and I finished around the middle of the pack. Oh, I was abducted by aliens at one point for a quick experiment, but apparently they used a freeze-gun on all the other racers so the diversion didn't cost me.

Somewhere in the first lap I caught up to someone I recognized - old yellow-jersey, who smoked me at the line in the last race - and I chatted him up and reminded him of the fact, thinking hey I caught up to him, now I can pass and return the favour. But as if to punctuate his superiority, he promptly kicked it up a notch and disappeared from sight.

In the second lap I was going through the lava section again, making a nice clean run of it, and feeling pretty good. I glance behind, and see another racer I recognize not too far away - what !? I usually am way ahead of him, and he sucks in the technical stuff - what's he doing here ? ! Somebody's been practising :) Wondering if I've slowed down to some kind of girly-man pace, I try to up the speed, but there's not much energy available. But then I see another group ahead that I'm gaining on, and yeller-jersey is in there too. Hmm, maybe I not so slow? I get stuck in this group for a while, but slowly worm my way ahead. White jersey sucks onto my wheel, and I can't shake him. I ask him a coupla times to just go ahead, but he likes my pace and stays back. We yo-yo with Veloce-Felt dude, who blazes on the easy climbing stuff, but slows way down when it gets technical. We pass him, then he passes us, etc, etc. Finally he pulls a big gapper, and white jersey jumps ahead on the downhill to catch him. I'm alone for a while, and then catch up to white-jersey and we both pass Veloce-Felt. But on the last climb while we're gasping at the top, he shoots ahead and disappears. Only a couple of miles to go, with mostly a high-speed sweeper downhill, and I kick it into overdrive. Leave whitey behind, and pursue V-F. Start to see faint dust clouds, so I know I'm gaining. Finally catch up to him, and suck his wheel through some twisties. Not easy to pass, but take a chance through some rough stuff and get by him. Only half a mile to go. Have to increase my lead, or he'll catch me on the final stretch which is flat. But as I get there and take a look behind, no one around, so cruise to the line. Just over 3 hours, 9th/19. A decent run. Now gotta recover quick, as I'll be racing again in less than 24 hours.

Race Report : Racing Around Williams

2006-05-22T22:23:00.000-07:00

This was a new race on the circuit this year. It promised to be 'very technical, but in a fun way', so I signed up. However, with a more established race being run on the next day further North, it would be interesting to see what kind of crowd it drew.

In a rare moment of solidarity, the rains came in on the weekend, on both East and West sides of the mountains. Would it be muddy, or would the parched ground be able to absorb all the water Mother Nature could throw at it, and still be able to let off a few puffs of dust ? As I made the drive Westward, I thought it might be 50/50. Crossing I-5 as darkness fell, I noticed it clearing up. But then it became darker still, and I hit the Wall of Rain. Hadn't seen drops this big since I was freeriding in B.C.

Williams is not a big town - in fact it's hard to tell if there is a town there or not - and signs were sparse. With the pouring rain and bad visibility, I thought I might have arrived in the vicinity of the race, but then again it could well be that I would have to drive 10 miles the next day when I could see where I was going. Getting close to 11 pm, I was ready to setup camp, but the constant onslaught of mailboxes alongside the rural roads meant that this was private land territory. Finally got to a dead end, where a dirt road wandered up the hill a bit. I went as far as I could in the low-clearance van, then made a difficult turn-around where I almost rolled into a ditch. There was a bit of a flat spot on the side of the road where I could pitch a tent, but I was a little leery of the possibility of drunken partying rednecks running me over in the middle of the night. Decided it was time to test the theory "Sure I can sleep in the van - lotsa room, no problem!", so squeezed over to the side of the road to give it a try.

After 20 minutes of rearranging stuff, mostly shoving it into the front of the van, I was able to make enough room to lay down my Thermarest and test it out - lumpy, and I didn't exactly park on a level spot, but it should do. As I got into my bag and tried to sleep however, I realized the convex hump underneath my back was really not working for me. A concave depression you can live with, but this lump was hard to work around. I seriously contemplated setting up my tent in the rain, but decided to tough it out. Managed to get a few hours sleep, and the rain lasted most of the night.

The next morning I found the intersection where the race was supposed to start. Shortly after 8 a.m, no one around, and no signs of a race. Drive towards the last town, and then see the race setup a few hundred yards past where I was on a side road. Hmm, could have camped up here last night. The turn-out is pretty light, and only 20-25 Exp/Pro's take off at the 10 am start. I am in the front line, and am actually in first-place for the first quarter-mile! Ok, we are following a pace-car, but it's going pretty fast :) The pace car drops to the side, and half the pack surges ahead of me. Fools ! I am of course conserving energy, and will blow by them all later when ... er... maybe they all get squashed by a large meteorite ?

It's a 4-mile climb up a dirt road to the top, whereupon we will descend the promised 'technical' single track, get back onto the main road about halfway up from where we started, climb to the top again, do the downhill a second time... and then guess what, climb to the top again and do the downhill a third time. Check out the elevation profile in my cool graph below.

The descent is pretty sweet - lots of high speed forested sweepers, tight corners, baby-head sections. Then a bit of up-and-down technical, before another downhill section, that featured more and tighter switchbacks than Valleycliffe's 7 Stitches. I was jostling position with a couple of others here, but they ended up getting ahead. The third time on the downhill, you went straight instead of going back to the road, and this was the toughest section yet. Probably 2000 vert of narrow raw steep singletrack, reminiscent of the top of One Man's Garbage in its infancy. I passed yellow-jersey guy who I'd been battling earlier - funny because he mentioned he was local and knew these trails - figured he'd be railing the descent. Then as I get onto a flatter area with more visibility, I see another yellow jersey ahead - aha, so that was a different guy. Finally get out onto a dirt road, and I figure we must be getting near the end, and turn it up a notch. But ten minutes later I'm still in the middle of nowhere, no idea how far to the finish. Then yellow jersey passes me, and as it turns out the finish was only a few minutes away. And this was the same guy who knew the course, so he knew exactly when to put in the finishing kick.

Pretty wasted at the end, all that up-and-down really takes a toll. I ended up first in my class, which only had 2 people in it. So probably most who attended this race got a medal, due to the low turnout. Why the lack of racers ? Many possible reasons :

1) New race this year

2) Advertised as a difficult technical course, so this scared away all the roadies.

3) There was some road race happening the same day, so roadies had a great excuse :)

4) There was another more established mountain bike race the next day near Portland, so it was more convenient for many people [yeah, they had 9 racers in my class at that one]

But I would rate this race pretty high : great open start on ascending road that spread everybody out, and awesome technical downhills. I think this was the first time I did a race in Oregon, where my upper body was sore the next day [like it was when I did the Gearjammer last year]. See ya next year.

Race Report : Cascade Chainbreaker

2006-05-15T21:54:00.000-07:00

Last year it rained the morning of the race - although West Coasters would probably call it a drizzle - and I remember thinking how it sucked to be wearing a jacket that cool wet morning. But by the time the race started it had all cleared out and it was another perfect High Desert sunny day. Little did I know that the rain was a blessing in disguise - for this year, there was no rain, only Dust. Yes, big billowing clouds of it that blocked out the sun and sand-papered your eyes.

I rode the course the day before, and observed a few sandtraps and thick loamy downhills, but gave it little thought. It was a bit dry, however the dust cloud behind me looked rather minor. But as the race got underway Saturday morning, hundreds of rapidly churning wheels kicked up the soft dry road surface, and within seconds we were enveloped in a thick cloud of choking dust. Visibility was 5 to 10 feet as the pack surged forward. I guess the first 10 riders must have been OK, but the rest of us couldn't see where we were going. 20 seconds after starting, a huge pile-up occured in front of me - bodies and bikes flying everywhere. I narrowly avoided getting caught in in, and dove far left, only to get mired down in a 6 inch deep trough of sand. I was stuck in this for a while, unable to see what was coming up as I blindly forged ahead. Finally things thinned out and I started rolling normally. Heart rate was maxed from spinning in the sand, and breathing was ragged and gaspy.

A short loop back to the start area, and the single track began. I was amazed how unclogged the trail was - quite a difference from Sport class, where I was continuously frustrated by overly-amped starters who wailed for the first 2 minutes, then died in the bottle-necking single track, slowing down everybody behind them. But what was good about Sport class was I was usually a front-runner and had the run of the trails. In Expert though, seems like there's always someone nipping at your heels.

We were to do 3 laps of this course, which is at least 90% singletrack. Passing was available in short stretches of fire road. But I found everytime I was stuck behind someone on some downhill section, waiting to pass them when we got dumped out on a road, they knew what was up, and would floor it to the next piece of single track. So I never passed there - would take too much effort - in fact didn't pass much at all. Got passed quite a bit though. I knew this race would be competitive, as it would seem a lot of the Bend uber-athletes who normally don't race mountain bikes, decide to do this race as part of their training or something [more on that later]. And the course isn't very technical, what many would call a 'roadie' course.

As I finished my first lap, I was greeted with a chorus of "Go Marc!" and other chants from the numerous spectators. This seemed a little strange to me, until I looked behind me and saw Mark, the mechanic at the Web Cyclery bike shop who sponsored the race. Oh, so it's "Go Mark"! then. I yelled that I was Marc[k] too, but I don't think they got it.

Started the second lap, and the temperature was climbing up there. I was thinking it was going to be a long hot dry day. But I had 60oz in my Camelbak - should be plenty ? The ony thing I hate about Camelbak's is you're never really sure how much you've got left. Bottles you can see it, but with Camelbak's you put your hand back there and heft it up a bit, but you're never quite sure... The dust is taking its toll - my lungs feel raspy, and my left eye's vision is at 50%. I finish the second lap at the 2:07 mark- a big improvement on the 2:20 I did last year for the 2-lap Sport course. Still feeling pretty good, but definitely slowing down a bit. I try to catch up to riders I see in the distance. It take me at least half-an-hour to catch one guy, and after I pass him, it seems like it will take me another half-hour to get away from him. I push it on some of the downhills, and am on my own as I get close to the finish area. But here's the fun (or annoying) thing about this course : once you get near the finish area, the trail starts to do freaky things like loop back along itself, and has a few clover-leaf like loops that throw you out half a mile before you come back again.

I had felt the Cramps creeping up in the last few minutes, and had started chugging lots of fluids to keep them at bay. But in the first finish area loop, they hit hard and fast. Less than 10 minutes to go, and all of a sudden I'm going at half-speed, trying to fight them off. Guzzle, guzzle, stand a bit and try to shake it out. They're persistent, but I know from experience that they magically go away, usually when climbing up something. I keep waiting for the guy I passed to catch up to me, but I guess he was hurting too. The pain is abating, but then I feel that strange sucking sensation that means my Camelback is out of juice. No problem though, only a few minutes to the finish. Look behind me to make sure there's no late surgers, and cruise across the finish in a time of 3:11. I see everybody is caked in a black layer of sweat and dust, and realize I probably look the same. Take off my glasses, and hey I can see again! My time is good (or bad) for 12th out of 19 in my class. I'll take it - especially with this tough crowd.

Now about that Bend uber-athlete phenomenon. Here's proof : every heard of Steve Larsen ? Well, he won the Expert class, finishing in 2:37. This guy was US mountain bike champion at some point, and now finishes top-10 in Ironman triathlons. He even has a mountain bike tire named after him for chrissake ! So this is what you have to deal with in Bend. It was pretty funny hearing everybody bitch about it on the on-line bulletin boards today. Some people basically calling him an asshole : "No wonder he wasn't chosen for the Olympics, he has no honour!". Give it a rest. Personally I think it's kinda cool that I'm racing with someone of that calibre. But I guess if you finish second maybe it's annoying...

So all in all a great 38-mile dust-fest race. But next year, I don't mind if they add a few bucks to the entry fee, and bring in a water truck to douse the road at the start. Oh yeah, they ran out of drinking water too - but there was a refreshing keg of cold beer :)

I Invented Mountain Biking

2006-05-12T14:14:00.000-07:00

OK, so many people believe that mountain biking began when those dudes in California, like Joe Breeze and co., started putting fat tires on their regular bikes in the early 70's and taking to the mountain trails. But often when I pick up a new bike magazine, there's some article about how some person is the 'real' father of mountain biking, cuz they were riding dirt trails on their bikes way before that. But if you think about it, the first bicycle ever made (in the 1800's?) was a mountain bike, since dirt roads and trails were all they had then.

In any case, the term 'mountain bike' is somewhat of a misnomer anyways, since you don't need a mountain to ride trails.

But in the early 70's I too was a pioneer of 'mountain biking'. It was around that time when myself and my childhood friend Andreas, dumped our choppered out Stingrays (which were getting too small anyways), and moved up to full frame 26" CCM bikes. We both bought the same bike at the local bike shop, Castonguay's (I wonder if that's still around). They were bright red, had a 3-speed shifter, and pretty fat tires too. We found these bikes could handle all kinds of terrain - pavement, dirt, neighbour's lawn, etc., and at a pretty good speed too.

Around that time they had started work on adding another 9 holes to the golf course in our neighbourhood (destroying the Bush we had spent many years foraging in), and the area behind our houses became a massive bulldozed dirt playground, with a mixture of old trails, mountains of dirt, streambeds, downed trees, and half-finished golf holes. We started ripping around there on our bikes, flying off jumps, riding obstacles and descending dirt chutes. We were mountain biking, man ! And we even had a cool name for it - "Rough Riding" - better than "mountain biking" I think :)

Yeah, so next time you go Rough Riding you can tell your biking buddies where the name came from !

Race Report : Ashland Spring Thaw

2006-05-09T10:22:00.000-07:00

Some people dis' this race, saying it's not a real mountain bike race, what with all the fire road riding and general lack of singletrack. But it's a great test of overall fitness, with a bit of strategy thrown in. Sure, roadies can do pretty well in this race - but at least the rutted descent at the end keeps most people from using their cyclocross bikes. It starts off with a half-mile of street riding, winding up the hill that overlooks the town. Then onto fire roads, with a pretty consistent grade and 3000 feet of climbing. By the end of this climb, the race is almost half over time-wise, and the place in you're in now will be pretty close to your finishing place. A bit of single track is thrown in, and then you're onto a long stretch of mostly level fire-road that wraps around in a horseshoe shape. This is where they say you 'win or lose' the race. If you find yourself alone on this 11-mile stretch, you will be going much slower than if you are in a paceline group that is drafting, and you are 'screwed'. Somewhat true, but there are enough people in the race that a paceline will probably come along at some point, and if you're alone you have to keep an eye out for that, and jump onto it before it zips by you. After this you've got a nice steep smooth singletrack descent that is over much too quickly, a bit more putzing around with fire roads and scraps of single-track, and then what's probably a 3000 foot descent on a rutted twisty double track. If you don't have good technical descending skills, this section will eat you up and spit you out : huge trenches and whoop-de-doos abound, and it's amusing to see riders get pinballed all over the place. Then back to steep descending tarmac for the last mile, and you're done.

I left for this race the night before, planning on finding a camping spot in the dark, within half an hour of Ashland. Took the boring 97 South for 2 hours, then West on the twisty Route 66. I was aiming for the last mountain pass before the town - where there was a 10-mile road up to some reservoir recreation area. Darkness fell and out came the bugs - 10,000 splats later I was at the turn-off. Never sure what to expect when scouting for camp spots in this state. Either every square inch of land is private, accompanied by No Trespassing signs, etc. Or you're in the middle of nowwhere and it's easy pickings. Luckily this turned out to be the latter case. Found a good pull-out down a side-road, and did the customary tent setup and beer drinking ceremony. During the night heard these occasional low-frequency hummings in the distance. I remember hearing these last year in another campside that was 20 miles away. Definitely something weird going on the woods around here - probably aliens.

Got to the race by 7:30 the next morning, and tried to figure out the parking deal. Last year got a ticket for exceeding the 4 hour limit. Found a little parking area that had no limit signs - seemingly too good to be true. After scouting around for hidden signs or other tricks, decided it was safe to park there. Some other guy from Bend in a camper was parked beside me. Little did I know we were in the same race class, and would finish within minutes of each other (else I wouldn't have been so friendly :). Some punk-ass dude across the way was blasting shitty rap music - the same swear words repeated over and over with the same boring beat. So I countered with some YoYo Ma.

These guys didn't mess around with the 9am start time. I had just finished my 20th trip to the bathroom and was slurping down a GU as I got to the line, expecting the usual delay, when "30 seconds to start!" was announced. The stampede begins - but not as crazy as usual due to the wide open spaces. The pack gets quickly strung out on the climb, and I pick a group to try and follow. I'm not expecting to feel too strong today, since did intervals the last 2 days, but I actually feel pretty good. But the group is definitely slipping away. Get near the top, and I'm pacing with the lead pro woman. Approach the dreaded 'draft or die' section, and we agree to work together. It helps a bit, but we don't pick up any other stragglers to make a good paceline. Then a few people pass us, and one of them is a woman! This woman has an unusually low posture, her back almost horizontal, and a very large posterior that must be full of muscle. The former lead chick and I try to catch up, but can't quite bridge the distance. After a long while we see signs ahead, which must mean the single track descent is coming up. The lead woman slows way down - maybe not a good descender - and myself and another WebCyclery guy launch down the trail. I stay with him through the twisty narrow trails, and soon pop out onto the last fire road climb. I conserve energy a bit, remembering that there's another tough single track climb further up, but it's actually really short. And then all of a sudden the last long steep rutty downhill begins - damn, still got lots of energy !

I'm following a group of 5 or 6, going a bit too slowly for me, but no real safe place to pass. But a couple crashes later, and some miscellaneous attrition, and we're down to just 2. Pop out onto the pavement, which is uber-steep with some good hairpins. This is where I passed a whole bunch of people last year, due to my incredible braking prowess. OK it's not really that great, but having disc brakes, and having ridden a motorcycle for years, I'm pretty good at braking as late as possible into a turn. A tight steep hairpin approaches, and I easily outbreak the guy beside me, almost laughing as he seems to be going backwards. OK, getting within a 50 feet of this bad-boy curve, time to start braking harder... Then all of a sudden I get one of those nasty disaster premonition flashes, as my brakes start to fade. The grip I'm expecting is no longer there, and I'm hurtling towards the outside of the turn at uncontrollable speed. Time slows down, and I can see the hard curb approaching, and the steep drop off on the other side. I know something 'bad' is about to happen, and am powerless to stop it. I can smell burning rubber as my rear brake completely locks up. Squeeze the front brake as hard as I can, but it's gone. As I reach the outside of the turn, still not going nearly slow enough, I hit dirt and gravel, and put the bike sideways in a skid turn. Luckily this does the trick, time speeds up again, and I scrub off speed going away from the turn. Jump off the bike, do a 180, and crank it back in the right direction. One more turn to the finish line - I can't catch the guy I was ahead of, but no one else catches me. Finish in 2:11, 11 minutes faster than last year. End up 5th out of 12 in the Expert 40+ class. Everybody was faster this year : last year 40 people were under 2:15, but this year 61 were under that time.

Race Report : Bear Springs Trap

2006-05-01T21:33:00.000-07:00

I have no idea why they call it a 'Trap' - but I was determined to find out. This race is brought to you by the fine folks who put on that race I ragged on last year, with all the confusing intersections. I guess that's just their style, because in the race flyer they warn you about blowing by important junctions and watching for signs, covering their ass so to speak.

I followed the directions to the race start on Sunday morning, an hour and a half drive North of Bend. This worked out pretty well, so I was encouraged the course would be just as easy to follow. Then I discovered the Trap : you had to pay $5 to park in this part of the forest, or buy the the yearly forest service pass for $25. Well my pass from last year should still be good.. except I left it in the other car. Oh well, wrote a little note explaining this which seemed to work.

So after riding in 70F degree weather in Bend the previous day, I wasn't worrying about it being cold. Then how come the thermo is reading 4 degrees outside the car ? Hmm, it's only 9:30 am, it should warm up. Luckily I threw my long riding pants in the car at the last minute, along with my goretex socks and winter gloves. Yup, needed them all. By 10:30 it was up to 7 or 8 degrees. I changed layers several times, but retained full coverage. I was all ready for the race start at 10:45 am, but there were still 100 people in line waiting to get registered. Finally ready to go at 11:20, and by this time I was getting a bit hot, and my bladder was nudging me to take a little walk in the forest. Then ensued what seemed like half an hour of explanation about the course - something about pink ribbons. And the obligatory category roll call, whereupon I discovered everyone in my class was way ahead of me in the start chute. Hmm so the race hadn't started yet and I was already in last place :) Well my plan wasn't to go balls out today anyways, just ride at a steady pace. It's cool, I'll start way back here with all the feebs and grommets and ladies. Never understood why people push so hard to get up front, squeezing themselves into any little opening, anything to get further ahead. You bend down to tighten your shoe, and wham - five people squeeze ahead of you. And many of these people are slow, causing bottlenecks as the road funnels into single track.

Well, enough chit-chat, the gun goes off and a group of 80 or so Pros and Experts start racing up the tarmac towards the 90 degree turn onto dirt a quarter mile away. It doesn't clog up too bad, it's rocky double track for a while so passing is available if you want to risk going off the main path onto bigger rocks and sticks. I love doing a race where you've never ridden the course, and have no idea what the terrain is like. This race had a fine helping of almost all kinds of riding : steep muddy climbs, baby smooth downhill sweepers, rocky twisty steep descents, log rides, baby-head talus slope traverses, bridges, everything. It's all good, and I'd forgotten about all the pink ribbon warnings as I followed a group bombing down a nice descent, when I see the tell-tale sign that it's all gone horribly wrong : a bunch of riders are climbing the trail back up towards us. They are yelling something - what's that, a bear ? Is that the Trap ? Oh, "Wrong way!" is what they're saying. We all do 180's in place and climb back up - yeah we blew by that little pink ribbon - tough to see a 90 degree turn to the left when you're flying by in a cloud of dust. Cool - now that we've totally screwed ourselves on any podium finish, let's just have fun ! Actually it only amounts to a few minutes lost...

I have kind of a blank spot now about what happened for the next little while...I was churning along at 95%, keeping a good pace, but not wanting to push it too hard since with my limited riding time I wasn't sure if I'd blow up or not. I passed more people than passed me I think. Went across a nice bridge in an open meadow, the birds were singing and the sun was shining, and then... I saw someone I knew ahead - my buddy Chris who I raced with quite a bit last year. Aha, if I can just sneak by him undetected...not a chance, I can see his eyes widen as he looks behind and recognizes me - then it's like his ass is on fire and he cranks it up a notch and takes off. This was one of the guys in the paceline I was in in that Ashland race last year, the roadie race at 5000 feet, my first race in Oregon. I ended up catching him at the line in an all-out sprint finish, beating him by a second. Then every race after that I was often a few minutes ahead. Now I can see that he's determined this will not happen again. I decide to stick with my game plan of riding a steady race, and don't match his intensity. It's not like I'm riding slow, but he's definitely getting away. What the hell - I nudge up the intensity just a tad, and start gaining on him. Get right up beside him on a dirt road section, and start talking it up. But he's not much into conversation, and keeps forging ahead. I have enough in reserve that I could initiate a good pass attempt, but then this might cause a bit of "Oh yeah?!", back and forth, as we yo-yo the intensity up until one of us collapses. So just stay behind him, like 10 feet behind, even on the high speed downhills.

This goes on for like 45 minutes, as we thrash through some muddy, rooty, riverside trails that sap your energy. Another guy is in our group now, and it's getting harder to stay with them, as Sport class riders who did a shorter loop are now clogging the trail a bit. I finally pass them on a steep uphill, as they're pushing their bikes while I grind up, still in the saddle. Again I decide not to put the hammer down and try to leave them in the dust. Then I realize this is not possible anyways, as a branch has become stuck in my derailleur cog, playing the spokes like a hockey card. Normally I would stop to pull it out, but not wanting to let them by, I just start shifting all over the place and hopping up and down on my bike, trying to dislodge the little bugger. Finally it comes out. I miss a turn across a bridge, put on the brakes, and the other 2 end up sandwiching each other behind me. The third dude gets hot and starts blaming Chris for backing into him, as we all try to reorient ourselves to walk across the bridge, which is nothing but a series of stumps in the mud. Seeing how these guys are being a bit aggro, I motion them to go ahead of me, and take it out on the trail. Thinking back on it, I should have just pushed them both down in the mud and taken off !:)

They get ahead again, and we end up coming out onto a road. I'm sucking back some fluid and thinking about popping another gel, when I realize, 'Shit this is the road just down from the start line!' I'm a few hundred feet behind Chris when I stomp on it, going full blast for the finish line. People appear on the side of the road as we get closer, screaming for blood. This doesn't help my stealth attack much, and I end up being about 20 feet short at the line. Well, as it turns out a medal wasn't at stake, as we finished 5th/6th out of 15 or so in our class.

Awesome race, probably the toughest technically that I've done in Oregon. Today, don't feel too bad. Did some 8 minute MSP intervals, and then yeah OK starting to hurt. Next stop, Ashland.

Giant chipmunks

2006-04-01T09:56:00.000-08:00

While out on a ride, one frequently encounters those small darting furry creatures known as chipmunks. They burst out of the bushes beside the trail, stop suddenly as they see you approach, dart away, then rip back across the trail and nearly get crushed by your wheel. I don't recall ever flattening one, but many times it's been close. I often encounter the larger 2-footed chipmunks, aka trail-runners, and they are almost as unpredictable. They hear you approach, and rather than just moving to the side to give you room, they often jump right in front of you at the last second, using some kind of avoidance logic I have not yet figured out. Ok so maybe they don't hear you until you're almost about to run them over, but enough with the sudden movements already ! I used to shout at them that I was coming through, expected them to either stay where they were, or move closer to the edge. But apparently this sudden intrusion into their peaceful tweety-bird world, only causes them to panic and run spastically in many directions at once, increasing the likelyhood of a collision. So now my strategy is to stay as quiet as possible, increase velocity, and whip by them to one side. This has worked well with the Ipod-wearing crowd, and various other oblivious joggers. And it is quite amusing to scare the crap out of them as you whiz by, often followed by shouts of confusion or was that rage... But many times the sharp-eared ones do the afore-mentioned sudden chipmunk dart as you get near them, which results in interesting crash avoidance scenarios. The other day I was approaching a female runner on a very slight downhill doubletrack, rolling with a good amount of speed. She was in the left-side track, so I decided a high-speed pass on the right would work perfectly. As I got within 100 feet, I could see the slight head twitch indicating my presence had been detected, whereupon she decided the best course of action was to move to the very center of the trail - perhaps to provide me with a left or right passing lane. Very well, a little risky, but still doable - I reduce speed a bit, but stay on the right side. I am 20 feet away, and all of a sudden she decides to pick the right hand track, directly in my path. I grab 2 handfuls of brake and skid it out on the gravel, halfway into the bushes but manage to squeeze by without contact... What ? Was that a boring ending ? You were hoping for some blood or something ? Maybe I will create a fantasy ending if you like - let me know...

Trails in the sky

2006-03-31T09:07:00.000-08:00

I learned yesterday that Ray Peters has left us - he's gone on to blaze new trails in the afterlife. I won't wax on about what a selfless and dedicated individual he was - I'm sure you'll hear that a lot. But if you're ever wandering around the trails on your bike, and you happen to start riding up Icy Hole of Death, pause a moment at that first sustained little climb in the clearcut (where the incline will force a lot of riders to pause anyways :) . See those cut logs to either side of the trail ? The crosshatches on some of the wood you ride over ? Ray Peters made those cuts. He helped me out one day when I was building that trail - lugging in an 18" saw with all his safety equipment - and together we hacked and cut our way through the deadfall, opening up the trail. So reflect a moment on his life, and maybe how he affected your life, and then float down that trail, so named because of my own brush with death, a place where we'll all be riding some day.

No mud was slung by me

2006-03-26T20:38:00.000-08:00

It was time for the first race of the season - the infamous Mudslinger. Now there hasn't been much mud around here in Bend, since it's hidden by all the snow we've had in the last month, but over there on the West side of the mountains, supposedly they have rain and a good helping of muck. So eager for an early season mud-bath, I signed up for the race.

I was eager to fly the bright colors of the Web Cyclery race team, and I was going to kick ass because I've been on my mountain bike....uh... once in the last 5 months. Ok so I was going to suck wind a bit, but so what it's all fun and games until the EPO kicks in.

Normally I would show up at the race site the day before, do a lap of the course, and scope out some short-cuts (just kidding:). But I decided to just get up at 5am on Sunday, and scoot on over, getting there with at least an hour to spare. The plan was looking good until this happened on Saturday.

Just a minor setback, I'm sure it will all melt off in a few hours. But no, it kept coming down, and got colder. But being the eternal optimist, I got all packed up the night before, and bolted out of bed at 5am as the alarm went off (I don't think I've used an alarm in years). Checked the road report, and noticed there were all these blue diamond icons on the mountain pass roads, which meant severe weather, chains recommended, etc. Now I am somewhat of a Gilles Villeneuve in the snow, but I didn't see how I could maintain the required 65 mph average through that stuff to get there on time...

So I was LAME!, and went back to bed. Then went out later and did some intervals on the road bike, and coughed some strange stuff out of my lungs.

Roadies

2006-03-23T17:08:00.000-08:00

Sure looks like fun ! Someone release the rabbits !

You've lost that dirt loving feeling

2006-03-21T08:46:00.000-08:00

I'm on my mountain bike for the first time in 5 months. It feels alien and awkward, cramped and twitchy, not an extension of my body as it was many moons ago. Mind you, the circumstance aren't the best - it's around zero degrees and I'm commuting to work - a test ride to make sure everything still works. Mostly pavement, a few scraps of dirt and some curb jumps. Got lobster gloves on, so braking and shifting are a bit fuzzy. In fact, braking is almost non-existent, as my disc brakes have lost pressure or have some other problem, after months of hanging idle on the wall.

Get out at lunch and hit some dirt - although it's often a toxic combination of mud and dog-shit. Got a bit of the feeling back. But yeah can't wait for me and the bike to become one again ... and being two is fun in a sick way too, as you leave the bike careening down the trail and take flight into some bushes.

Indian Winter

2006-03-11T20:07:00.000-08:00

Just as my bikes start poking their noses out of the garage, hopefully not seeing their shadows - wham! - winter comes back with a vengeance. Snow off and on all last week, and next week ditto. Went for a one hour snow/sleet/rain ride during the week - not too bad - with a clothing cocktail of various wind-proof and rubberized items, it was actually quite comfortable. I love my Casteli winter biking jacket - this thing is thin and lightweight, but completely wind-tight - one wicking layer underneath and you're good to zero degrees.

The next day, ran up the white flag for biking, and took to the woods on skis. A foot of fresh dumped overnight, real fluffy stuff, and did a coupla morning hours breaking trail. Made excessive use of my rectus femoralis, a very useful trail-breaking muscle (also a good one to fire off on the bike on the top pedal-stroke). It's hilarious how no-one wants to break trail - on my return journey could see everyone had followed my exact track - nubes!

Today rode the trainer in the garage for an hour, doing some sprint intervals and what-not. Still chafing the chode pretty good - have to rebuild that callus I guess !:) But according to my uber-training program, was supposed to go on a 3.5 hour road ride today. So had lunch, then drove up to Bachelor with various ski configurations. Took the skate skis out as usual, but it was snowing so hard that the groomers couldn't keep up with it - wait a second - I never saw a groomer - lazy turds. An hour and a half of pushing through the rapidly accumulating sno was enough... Got out the classic skis and did another hour and a half. Whew... on the way home broke down and picked up McD's for a quick fix. Got an extra order of fries to bring home for the munchkins, which they devoured like jackals on a fresh kill.

8:30 pm. Everyone else is asleep. Me too soon I think zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Two Wheels Good

2006-03-06T13:30:00.000-08:00

That was the title of some 80's band's album. Can't remember the name - the song 'When Love Breaks Down' was on it maybe ? Anyways got back on the [road] bike this past week - the first time since October. Lungs felt pretty good with all the Nordic I've been doing. Did a short ride at noon some day during the week, going in a new direction, down China Hat Road. First 15 minutes all urban - traffic, noise, subdivisions - then all of a sudden I'm away from it all amidst old growth trees on a gently contouring road. The sky darkens a bit and sporadic snow flakes are falling. Every now and then it squalls out to a mini-blizzard, but still not accumulating. Up ahead, movement on the road : 3 white-tails see me approaching and bound off through the woods. Check watch - time to turn around. See sign on the way back : "Entering Deschutes National Forest" - so that explains the transition. Hope it lasts - I heard Bush is trying to sell off parcels of forest land.

I opt for a long endurance ride on Saturday, which ends up being 3.5 hours. Sure, lungs felt great, but the rest of my body is wrecked - cramped neck and arms, sore calves and Achilles, numb chode, and just general wastedness. So I guess another ride is out for Sunday - went skate skiing instead for 2.5 hours. I'm used to doing that, shouldn't be a problem...? Well it got compounded by the cycling, so I was even a bigger mess Sunday night. And I was feeling - how shall I put it - gastronomically challenged (yes with accompanying odour track). And today went to the gym to get the blood flowing, but my body was basically a wet noodle from the waist down. So this schedule is in need of some adjustment - maybe less endurance and more beer ?

Oregon MTB Report #3 [from Jul 21, 05]

2006-03-03T15:21:00.000-08:00

Lesson #1 : never stop hammering

It’s a skeleton crew at the start line for the Sport class race, at Ski Bowl near Mt. Hood. Maybe people have been scared off by the dismal weather that always seems to hang around these mountains – the last time they had a race here, in early June – it snowed. Currently it’s barely 10 degrees at 10 am and a light drizzle is falling. I see one person I know in my class – he was at the race last week. I managed to win that one, while he came in a couple of minutes behind in 3rd place [Pic at right is me on the way to my first ever race win] I know I’m a marked man now, and he’s definitely giving me and my equipment the once-over. He’s racer-boy with his sponsored kit and minimal accessories – where do these people carry their pumps and other shit ? Me, I’m wearing baggy shorts and flip-flops and guzzling a beer 1 minute before the start – ok well the first one is true.

The gun goes off and we tear for the hole shot a couple hundred meters away. A good dozen get ahead of me as is normal. I don’t care too much – feeling kinda weak today and unmotivated with the rain. Into the single track, which is nice and technical with plenty of up-and-down and lotsa roots and rocks – makes me nostalgic for Squamish – sniff. Following too close to someone, I smash into them when they fail to negotiate a 4” uphill log – damn I keep forgetting how many of these Oregon racer types have crappy technical skills. Wait a second, that used to happen on Jack’s Trail in the Test of Metal too J

We get to the first major intersection, which is an open area with a couple of ski lifts and trails and roads going off in 6 different intersections. I’m in the front group of 3 or 4. Screwup #1 : the trail we’re supposed to go on is roped off, but the course directors yell at us to hop over some logs and go around the tape. Start going uphill, and RacerBoy and another guy motor ahead, I don’t have the legs to match their pace. Then hit a long rock-strewn downhill with some ledges – I pass one guy, and then in the technical single-track, start closing in on RacerBoy. I pass him in a set of switchbacks, and he voices his annoyance. Now I’m the front-runner. Hit the same complicated intersection again, and start a long climb up a road. RB is maybe 15 seconds back. Near the top of the climb, look for the downhill trail back to the start. The one I think we’re supposed to turn on is roped off, so I’m about to keep going when I notice some guy huffing and puffing up the hill. Screwup #2: this guy was supposed to open up the descent trail and direct people down it – guess he needs more uphill running practise ! I get delayed 30 seconds, and my pursuers are closing in !

The downhill is pretty gnarly – babyheads, ruts and 2 foot ledges. I push hard down it, hoping to regain my advantage. Almost lose it a couple of times, but I’m not used to riding a hardtail down this stuff. At the bottom start my second lap, go to lock down my fork – hey it’s already locked out. Hmm, no wonder that downhill seemed a little rougher than usual – I guess the blow-off valve works J

I keep looking behind me during the 2nd lap – no one in sight. Cool – got the gold medal wrapped up baby! Then hear something behind me on the switchbacks – some kid appears out of nowhere – he says he’s 16 and not tired – whatever, no problem – I let him by as we come out of the woods. Hit the disfunctional intersection again for the last time. The organizers are a little confused about where to direct me, do a quick huddle, then send me up the road. I know we have to take some different bit of singletrack on the 2nd lap back to the finish line, not sure where that starts. But Screwup #3 : I hear a lot of yelling behind me, and turn around to see the organizers gesticulating at me to turn back, they sent me the wrong way. So I turn around – apparently the other kid didn’t. They point me at some singletrack that looks familiar – hey that’s where we came out after we started, right ?

So I think I’m going in the right direction, until I see riders coming straight at me ! They are as surprised as I am, and there is much muttering and swearing and ‘what the fuck!?’. Come out onto the double-track section which points me back towards that main intersection a bit. Just before it goes back into singletrack I’m within shouting distance of the organizers, so I yell at them if I’m going the right way. I seem to hear that I’m on the right track, so keep going. More riders coming at me, and now I think I most definitely fucked up somewhere. Slow down a bit, feeling pissed off that the easy win has now turned into a major snafu. Then I hear an exultant shout behind me, and turn around to see Racer Boy charging full steam ahead. Somewhat stunned, I let him pass me. Finally my brain kicks into gear – if he thinks he knows where he’s going, this must be right ! So start chasing, but he’s got a good gap on me. But more riders coming at us cause a general slowdown, and I get a bit closer. Out of the singletrack and I’m hot on his tail charging down the road. But I can barely keep up – he’s got gold medal fever and is totally adrenalized. There’s a final steep rocky loose pitch near the end, and I shift into the big ring for the big showdown. He wavers a bit at the top, drifting left, and I seize my opportunity and drive hard down the fall-line, passing him. I hear him yell ‘You bastard!’ as I mash across a bridge, then up the last 100 feet to the finish line. And then… another Screwup ?!

I’m blasting for the finish line, my vision distorted from mud and sweat and the pounding blood, and then just as I speed into the finish chute, I hear people yelling “Slow down!”, and someone comes into my peripheral vision, and I end up crashing into the netting just before the finish line pole – the chute had a sharp bend in it right at the finish line. As I’m untangling myself, the other guy crosses the line. Shit – a few feet short of the line, and I’ve lost the numero uno placing. Stunned, the other guy congratulates me, saying “That was yours man”, acknowledging that I should have won the race, but didn’t. They write names on the board, and that doesn’t look like my name on the top. Then the organizer hands us medals. What’s this – mine has a goldish colour ? Look at the board – hey that is my name on the top ! So I guess they realized when they slowed me down that I’d already passed the timing line …

Man this race was one screwup after another – luckily justice prevailed or something.

Oregon MTB Report #2 [from Jul 1, 05]

2006-03-03T15:20:00.000-08:00

So I’ve been biking in the High Desert of Bend Oregon for about 4 months now. What a different world ! Most trails are smooth as a baby’s ass, and lots of people here has bikes what don’t gots suspension. Also popular here is single-speeds, since the terrain is mostly gently rolling type stuff. Ok so the trails aren’t all that exciting, but there sure are a lot of them ! Over a hundred miles of trails in an area a few miles wide and 10 miles long – similar in size to the area that holds Alice Lake area down Jack’s and Mashiter to Garibaldi Highlands. And the whole area is tilted, so you’ve got a downhill direction to make things exciting, and paved roads on each side of it so you can do shuttle runs.

I figured my 5+5 full suspension bike was a little overkill for this area, plus I wanted a lighter racier bike. Tried a hard-tail – nah even on smooth trails didn’t like that butt-ramming effect. Ended up getting a 29” softail.

I started signing up for a bunch of races, partly as an excuse to travel and explore new places, but mostly as a chance to get away from my screaming kids (just kiddingJ). First stop was Ashland, OR , the last weekend in April. It’s a small artsy town off of I-5 in the coastal hills of SW Oregon, just above California. I heard vague rumours about this place, something about women … yeah well all I can say there’s something special in the water there, rumours are true. Got there the day before the race so I could preride it, but got lost and confused in the town and by the time I found where it started it was too late. Good thing too, as it was a few thousand feet of climbing and a long loop that would have finished me for the next day. So the race started the following day with 3000 feet of climbing, nearly all on fire roads. Then you plateau onto a ridge for a long way, and I’m thinking “Where is the single-track?”. I catch up to a guy, and he says “Wanna pace ?”. Eh ? Apparently it’s some roadie term for taking turns leading the way and drafting. So we switch off for a while, and start reeling in single riders. Every time we pass someone we ask them to join up. Soon we’ve got a six-person pace line going… what am I doing in a !#$!# road-race at 4000 feet on a dirt road ? After at least half an hour of this, I look back at one point and see that I”ve dropped everybody. Soon comes a bit of single track, then more road. Getting a bit tired, and a couple of pacers go by me – hey, those are the first 2 guys I was pacing with ! So it works apparently. Then hit the downhill : about 3000 feet of swooping single track and gnarly double track – this part is fun. I catch up to Pacer #1 and pass him. We drop onto tarmac for the last mile to the finish line. I see Pacer#2 ahead, and pour it on, beating him by a second at the finish. I ended up 4th in my class – not too bad.

A couple of weeks later my new bike arrives, and my first ride on it is a pre-ride of a race right here in Bend. I show up for the race the next day full of confidence : now on a 25lb race machine, I’m thinking high podium finish. I get a crappy start position, but pass a bunch of people quickly and have a pretty decent race. 2 hours and 20 minutes later I cross the finish line, and end up in … 13th place ?! Man did I have my ass handed to me. This Bend crowd is fast !

3 weeks later, another Bend race. This course is cool – very fast single track, with some high speed downhills and a technical section through lava rocks. I have a killer race, and get… 9th place ? But wait, all Sport class racers were supposed to do 1 short lap and 1 long lap - rumours abound that supposedly several people ‘got confused’ and did 2 short laps instead. So results are skewed – I see several top spots occupied by guys who finished near the end of the pack in previous races – so I placed at least 7th and possibly 5th – but who’s counting ? Still when you train as hard as I do – 7 or 8 hours a week J - it really matters OK ? J

It’s now June, and flowers are sprouting, etc yada. I sign up for a race in Northern California, and bring the family camping for the weekend. Yreka is a microscopic burg in the steep rolling hills of near-coastal Northern Cal. We camp in a great spot beside the Klamath River, popular with rafting companies. The first night the munchkins are pretty freaked out their first time in a tent in a long time, and I basically get no sleep. But next day is just a preride of the course, so no biggie… Awesome course – I can see why they’ve been having this race for like 13 years. Lots of single track right from the beginning, and up the 2000 foot climb. The downhill starts steep and loose, then flows into narrow singletrack ribbon cut into the side of steep open slopes. At high speed the trail feels about 6” wide – one false move and you’d be tumbling. Race day we do a couple of laps of this, and I end up getting 2nd place – so I had to go race in another state to get on the podium !

As the snow melts off, the alpine has started opening up in the foothills surrounding Bend. The trails there start less than 10 miles from town, and climb high up into the mountains with awesome vistas. These are your classic alpine loops : start off with a 2000 foot climb alongside a cascading stream through old growth forest, top out above the treeline with great views of snow-capped mountains, then a fast technical switch-backing descent through open meadows and steep trees. If Squamish had a bike trail going up Goat Ridge it would be like this. And they’re building more of these here all the time. The local bike organization has a great relationship with the Forest Service, which they’ve developed over the last 10-15 years. New major trails are spec’d, approved and built every year. They just got approval on a huge parcel of forest (maybe 100 square miles) where they’re going to build XC and freeride trails over the next few years.

Back to the racing : so I wasn’t really planning on doing the Test of Metal this year, and while I was pondering it for a few days, it sold out in a few minutes so that was decided. Coincidentally, there was this new race in Western Oregon on the exact same day, called the Test of Endurance. With close to 8000 feet of climbing on an 81 km course (2 laps), it seemed like a good replacement for the other ‘Test’. The week before the race, it rained every day there, so I was expecting some mud and other unpleasantness. The morning of the race, woke up in my tent to the sound of – more rain. The only good thing was the relaxed start atmosphere – with only 60 competitors, the crappy weather, and the expectation of at least 5 or 6 hours in the saddle, there was no jockeying for start position, etc. Miraculously, the sun came out 10 minutes before the start, and it stayed dry the whole time I was out there. But the mud remained, lots of it. A few minutes into the first muddy singletrack, I lost my granny gear to the mud. And a few minutes later, I couldn’t shift to my small chain ring. The way it was going, I’d be lucky to make it through the first lap. But the mud would shed off a bit on the dirt roads in between single-track, and I learned not to shift when in the mud – just pretend you have a single-speed – otherwise, chain suck and derailment. Anyways, enough about mud, we’ve all had it this year – boo hoo. So I do the first lap in just over 2.5 hours, and I’m aiming for 3 hours for the second lap. Feeling pretty good until the 4 hour mark, then start feeling wonky and heavy, so decide to slow down a bit and cruise to the finish. Look behind me on an open stretch of road – nobody there – so I guess I can just cruise and hold my position. But a few minutes later, people start appearing on the horizon behind me. Panicking, I pick up the pace a bit and drop them. But soon enough it happens again as I get lulled into slowing down. One guy is now only 100 feet behind me. What if he’s in my class, and ends up stealing my podium spot ?! He looks like the guy who slowed me down in the singletrack before, so I aim to beat him to the next section. I’m really starting to hate these people for making me put in all this extra effort ! The last singletrack is a downhill slop thick with mud – but kinda fun once you figure out how to surf it. I pass a couple more people, and drive hard the last 2 miles on road to the finish. Make it in just under 5.5 hours – good enough for 3rd place (there were only 6 people in my class – but hey 3 of them were Expert’sJ).

Next on the horizon : more alpine riding and miscellaneous races.

Ape Canyon

2006-03-03T15:19:00.000-08:00

Mmmm, chorizo

Prep

Old growth

Chasm

VT pose

Chug it!

Ridge

Where's that confounded bridge ?!

Squamish To Bend

2006-03-03T15:18:00.000-08:00

I moved