Bad Day Gone Right

I had been eagerly awaiting today all week long. The Christmas madness working retail really brings out the 'cuss' in customers. It's been a long, busy week. Not necessarily a bad week, just very hectic and I was really looking forward to a trip to the Mountain. A dear friend's life is tragically counting down in single digit days and another friend just got word his cancer has come back. Such sadness piled on top of other stresses really had me looking forward to escaping some reality and experiencing the life healing properties of the Mountain. Freedom and escape, that's what the bike gives to me.

But is wasn't to be. My ride got abruptly canceled before it even had a chance to begin. Lady luck, it seemed, wasn't on my side today. The temperature had also dropped from a spring-like 55 to 38 and drizzly. I could have thrown in the proverbial towel and just packed it in and headed for home but I couldn't. This was the Mountain and it's not very often I make it up here.

As fate would have it, I had worn my Innov8 trail running shoes. The ones I've never worn to run or on a trail before. Today they got their chance to shine. JD and I swapped from bike riding mode to trail running mode and headed out for adventure on trails I rarely see.

The temps were so low that trail running kept me at a perfect non-sweaty yet non-shivery temperature as JD and I made our way around the Mountain. The streams were roaring with almost white water rapids and sheets of 6' long icicles would crash down from the high rocks mimicking the sound of a high-speed  head-on collision. Despite being alone in the woods it was anything but quiet.

It felt good to be out. My disappointment quickly turned into enjoyment as we made our way around the trails, hopping rocks and logs, splashing through creeks, and climbing out to ledges to admire the views. Taking the trails at a slower pace than via bike gave them new life and me a new perspective.

The only nerve-wracking portion of the day became dodging falling icicles. In many places the only passable trail ran beneath large rock outcrops. Some which are upwards of 80' above you. As the rain and temps melted/weakened the ice, large 6' shards of sharp ice would plummet to the ground and crash near you without much warning. I had visions of being impaled and killed by a large piece of ice, only to have it melt and people think someone had slain me. Sounds ridiculous, but not in context with the days previous events. If anything, it seemed the most plausible of all outcomes. 

Luckily, despite nearing 40, I am still quicker than gravity and was able to Indiana Jones my way across the booby trapped caves. Lady Luck, it seems, was on my side all along.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Second Fiddle Gutter Cleaner

Photo Cred: Rick Harris

The weather we were promised for the TN State CX Championships was to be wet, muddy, and rainy. Unfortunately, the race had 60 degree temps and gray skies. Not a drop of rain or mudfest. Pity. Despite the lack of Belgian weather, the course was one of the best in Cross The Way history. Very flowy with technical turns, some power sections, some power sucking sections, and some smokin' fast rippin' off-camber fun. Marshall and Brian really outdid themselves. Bravo fellas, bravo!

Photo Cred: Tara R. Ludwig

Good news is my wheels not only survived the race, but also survived a post-race lap around the mtb trails at Lock4. The 1.8 Renegades were perfect for the cx course and did well in the rocks on the trail. However their lack of high-volume-ness let the rim get several good thwacks off the rock drops. To my (and those around me) amazement the wheels held and are still true as when built. The front even survived a high-speed swallowing (near endo) by a hole in a grassy field early Saturday morning when AdamD and I were out racing around before work. Not bad for an old dog learning new tricks.

Photo Cred: Tara R. Ludwig

Bad news is I didn't have the legs to dethrone Michael "eternally training" Edens. Second fiddle yet again. I mean seriously, doesn't that guy ever take time off from training? He does have the luxury of time and youth on his side. He may have been on the top step, but at least I got the bunny ears on him in his podium shot. Singlespeed immaturity shenanigans for the win!

Photo Cred: Tara R. Ludwig

18, the sixth Lucas number as well as a semiperfect number,  that is where the countdown to 40 currently stands. 18 days. I'm out of the 30's and 20's now. Into the teens. The gap is closing fast. You'd think I'd be well past bunny ear shenanigans by now. Guess again. I even sported the uphill bunny hop each lap of the race as seen above. Bunnies rule.

Photo Cred: Tara R. Ludwig

Photo Cred: Tara R. Ludwig

It was a fun race. I really need to work on getting a better hole shot. I sat dead last into the first turns and got held up in slow traffic. I really had to work to get ahead. Once I cleared the traffic, I worked hard to reel in Edens, but he was able to stay just a few seconds ahead each lap. If only...

Southeast GrassMoots team bikes outside the hotdog stand post race. 

All in all it was a great time. Fellow GrassMoots Racer and good friend Jim Simms bought us all I Dream of Weenie hotdog lunches and led us around the mtb trail on his rigid 34c tire singlespeed. He's not been on a rigid fork in the woods in quite a while, talk about a rude re-awakening. Jim is partially the reason I made the trek up to race. When the alarm went off way too early on my day off and the 32 degree weather was tempered by the warmth of a bed of Catahoulas, I was resigned to just sleep in and take the day off. Jim's early phone calls wouldn't allow that to happen. I'm glad I chose to travel, getting to hang out all day with Jim and company was just what the doctor ordered for a case of recent riding blahs. Thanks Jim.

Stella! Stella!

The boys in hot pursuit.

Tuesdays are my Sundays. As such, I have a list of chores and "need to do's" that seem to grow like weeds. H. has had a hard time swapping back from night to day after her last set of nightshifts and was up and out early today. By the time I woke up at 8am the barn was done. We decided to not lose the extra time caused by her lack of sleep and get the in town chores knocked out early. We even managed to squeeze in some Waffle House for breakfast and were back home with town chores done well before noon.

Back at the farm the pups and I managed to drag H. out to the trails for a little bit. Despite all the massive amount of rain we've gotten the past week, the trails are riding pretty well. There are still areas of standing water which are eating into more and more pasture as the rains continue. That is where my farm chores took me today, to clean the gutters.

Although these gutters aren't hooked to a house or barn (that is another item on the list), but rather drainage creeks that run the length of the pasture and feed into the creek behind the property. Years of dead fall and lack of upkeep have them dammed off. I've been needing to clear them, I'd just never made the time. Today time was made.

And no power tools were used to clear all the downed trees, brush, and logs. I opted for an old cross-cut saw and my camping hatchet. By the time I'd cleared the ditch, the swamp level had lowered to below the cobble bridge and the pasture lake had turned into a small puddle. Hopefully having the ditch cleared will help with some of the water issues that plague the back field over the winter months.

Since I like to make Tuesday my "get sh*t done" day, I still try to incorporate a bike and ample run/play time for the pups into the chore list (all work and no play, ya'know?). After clearing the ditch, we got in some more laps. Then feeling empowered by the quick progress of the ditch clearing with the hatchet, I cleared the final leg of the perimeter trail. It runs the length of the creek and allowed the dogs plenty of time for water play while I cut and cleared the trees and shrubs. As the sun set, we got in a final few laps before heading to the house to finish the inside chore list.  Another successful getting sh*t done day in the books.

Pink to Black

As the end of the year approaches, it feels as though time is running faster. Like the last few grains of sand in an hour glass, hurtling ever faster to the other side. Tomorrow is Friday already and it feels like only Monday. It has been a busy week with even more on tap over the weekend and no sign of slowing down anytime soon.

Sunday was H. and the EMIL's Annual Christmas cookie cooking night. The big twist? This is the first time the event was hosted in our home. Yep, this will be our first farm Christmas and the oven was on for nearly 11 hours straight. The house smelled of tasty morsels and it was hard not to eat everything in sight. There were cookies of varying states everywhere: dough, cooking, cooling, and ready to eat. So much for trying to lose 10lbs over the holidays. My calorie budget was blown many times over before the first hour was out. At least my DT Swiss mechanics apron was finally put to some good use.

Tuesday came and offered up a short window to get outside and ride. Unfortunately it had rained pretty much Saturday through Tuesday morning, leaving a high probability for very muddy trails. To my surprise, there wasn't any mud to contend with on the home trails. In lieu of mud was water. Lots and lots of water.

I took the 26"wheeled bike out because it already had a lower gearing on it as well as fatter tires with less tread. The tires did a great job of floating over the water logged mud, rather than knifing in, and keeping clean. Nothing in the way of a true fat bike, but close enough to pretend. Besides I have had to endure phenomenal photo after photo of fat biking fun from Gnat all week. Pretending helped ease any compulsive shopping urges. Did I mention we had lots of water?

Later that afternoon we headed out to start and finish our Christmas shopping. Along the way we chopped down our very own Christmas tree. A small cedar tree that was a volunteer grower in H's parent's backyard. Kind of a Charlie Brown / Redneck Christmas 3 sided tree. It's barely strong enough to hold up the lights and ornaments, but all dressed up it is rather dashing. Not bad for a free yard weed.

The TN State CX Championships are this weekend. Pumptrack Jim seems to have somehow convinced himself that I stand a good chance at a title (I think we need to check his Christmas cookies for foreign contaminants). So much so that he bought me a set of Specialized S-Works Renegade 1.8 tires to use specifically for this race. The course is pretty balanced to cross and mtb alike, but he believes the fatter-than-CX-but-narrower-than-most-29"-tire Renegades are the ticket to victory lane. As for me, I'm just hoping this old engine fires on all cylinders.

Not wanting to waste such nice tires, I decided to seal them up to my just built wheels. This is my first set of built-by-me wheels. I cut out my old pink Chris King hubs from my mismatched 2006 era 26" wheels and laced them up to Arch EX rims with black DT Swiss competition spokes. Since they'd pretty much just hung on the wall after 2009's wet and nasty Cohutta, I overhauled the bearings as well. I'm hoping the rebirth of these hubs brings about some good change. We'll see what karma has in store for me. Nothing like untested tires on a brand new untested set of wheels heading into a State Championships race.

Joe Dicky

"Why Joe Dicky, you look as though someone's just walked across your grave."

Recently our 4 apples tall friend Rich "Dicky" Dillen announced his 2013 plans and collaboration with the Faster Mustachely Crüe. However, his "stache" lasted all of about 23 hours. Maybe even only as long as to snap a blurry photograph. Today he reached his tiny little man arms out and jabbed at me across the innerweb. What he failed to realize was all the stache power I wield compared to his Joe Dirt-ness.

Lil' Dirty Joe Dicky.

So after a month or so of growing Dicky has accumulated enough lip fur to play Joe Dirt or a young Chachi Arcola. Not two very iconic or manly mustache-y roles.

Ironic, maybe.

No, for manly mustache rolls we can look to pretty much one or two films for inspiration. Such as Tombstone. Who could argue against Sam Elliot's massive walrus stache? It'd take a lot of lip rogaine for Dickster to rock one of those.

Hell, Elliot can even rock the stache without a character base to play from. Or what about lowly Curly Bill? Sure he is a smarmy bastard like Dicky, but his lip brow packs more punch than Dicky's wee peach fuzz ever could, smarm or no smarm.

Then there are my two favorite stach-i of the cinema, Johnny Ringo and Doc Holiday. Like I've said before, you may be Faster, but Mustache? You'd be a daisy if you do, Mr. Dillen.

"I'm your huckleberry."

Then there is Viper. The Top Gun starring stache of Mr. Tom Skerritt. A stache so macho it could have secured Normandy all on its own. No one messed with Viper, not because of his flying prowess, but for fear of upsetting the stache.

Don't upset the stache, Dicky. Don't upset the stache.

Thirty-Four

The wall finally fell, so (of course) we had to ride it. 

34. The ninth Fibonacci number. The atomic number of Selenium (the stuff used to make photocells). The number of days remaining before I turn 40. I have Brian to blame for this countdown. And blame I will.

R.J. helping with the horses with Patrico Voldemorting in the background.

The past six days passed pretty innocuously without much riding or free time. I did get to squeeze in a short afternoon road ride with the boss when the sun was out, which was pretty cool. But nothing to really write home about. Just going through the motions. Although, an hour after we closed Wednesday a woman bought a pair of shoes (that took her the entire hour to decide upon) that were a size 38. Which was the exact number of days remaining on my countdown. (I know, creepy right? What the F, David Blaine?)

Cowboy cooking: Beans and franks. 

A 3 bedroom scenic overlook cabin on The Mountain fell into my lap for this weekend. The weekend of sun and 70 degree weather. Unfortunately, no matter how we tried it just wasn't going to work out. Living on a working farm makes it hard to just pick up and leave, animals and chores still need tending to. So rather than just give up, we did what we could do and still made a weekend of it. Last night was perfect for camping and cooking over an open campfire, so that is just what we did. Having a farm does have its privileges, despite sometimes anchoring you.

We took the dogs out for a short night ride while scouting camp locations and collected some wood for the fire.  A large hack berry and a medium cedar log, both of which would burn hot and nearly all night long. The full moon was slow in rising making lights necessary at first, but once it finally climbed above the low clouds, I was able to ride and collect timber without needing a light. It truly was a great night for being outside.

Sunday was the first real ride I was able to get in and once again it felt great to be out in the woods. RJ has only ever mountain biked once and Patrico is new to the game, so we rolled a pretty chilled out first half lap with Jim until Rick rolled up on us and Patrico and I tried to hold onto his wheel for as long as we could. I lasted a lap and a half while Patrico chased hard to catch back up to us. Conditions were prime and the flow supreme. Is tomorrow really Monday already?

40 Days to 40

A friend took it upon himself to point out to me a few days ago that there were 43 days remaining before I turn 40. Yep, with a friend like that who needs a proctologist, right? But I digress. Tomorrow marks 40 days to 40. I'm not really sure how to take it all in. I'm not worried about the getting older part because I'm gracefully becoming more and more like a Robert Duvall character every day, so that in itself is pretty cool. The embarking on another new decade of life though has me taking a look at where I'm at, where I've been, where I'm heading, and where I should be. And that, is the scary part.

So Sunday was the first day off in months where I had absolutely nothing I had to do and the weather was going to cooperate: mid-50's and sunny. Boom. Words passed via digital text and soon a group of 10 or so of us were out on the trails at Monkey Bell. Aside from my home trails and some short urban trails near work, I hadn't ridden in the woods since the state championship race at MB months ago. It's been even longer for JD and he was beside himself with excitement. We could barely keep up with him over the course of 23 miles.

A friend is looking at getting a new bike and a Moots tops his list, so I let him ride my MX RSL slider  while I rode my 26" wheeled Rigormootis slider. I'd forgotten how fast and nimble the smaller wheels feel in tight twisty singletrack. It took me about a mile to readjust to the smaller wheels and it was all smiles and laughs from then on out. The leaves were taking several riders out around the turns, but the smaller wheels had no issues. I did rear-wheel fishtail like a dirt bike around one steep uphill and nearly took pumptrack Jim down and several high speed drifts took place by us all. It was a riot.

I've forgotten how fun floating around deep leaf and pine needle covered turns could be. PTJ and I were having a blast pushing the limits of the little wheels (PTJ rocks a Moots Gristle) and whooping it up. After a loop and one busted rear derailleur, we headed out to the parking lot. Several folks were ready to get going, others were looking for food, and I was looking to get a bit more trail. So the group whittled down to just Bryan heading out for some solo time on the MX RSL and PTJ, JD, and I taking on the lesser ridden more technical trails to finish out the day. That is until we decided it was too nice a day to not use all available daylight and retired back to PTJ's house for some pumptrack, more singletrack, beer, and watching the sun set off the overlook. That's how to spend day 42 to 40.

In style news, I happen to be lucky enough to get to test out a pair of Club Ride Half Rack cycling knickers. Out of all their options, the half rack were the fit I liked best. They stretch like my old Hypnotic design knicks that allow the use of knee warmers beneath without bunching at the knee, but have the more flattering (less man-pri) cut of my non-stretching Endura Humvees. My first riding experience with them was Sunday and midway through the ride Patrico asked me how I was liking them. I told him I had totally forgotten I was wearing knicks. They disappeared. No snagging on water bottles or cages, rubbing the rear tire when behind the saddle, no strangling my knees or sliding off the butt/snagging on the saddle. These quickly are becoming the go-to pant.

40 more days to 40.  I wonder tomorrow will have in store.