Hot Summer Nights

Every now and again time, music, and weather will collide into memories long ago thought lost far, far out to sea. Tonight's hot but not humid, starless dark sky heavily contrasting the bright moonlight combination sent my brain reeling way, way, -way- back.

Cruising home with the windows down, the air blowing in the windows faded from warm to cool as the road undulated and wound further and further from the city. Radio on and reflecting heavy.

I can vividly remember the wind blowing through my hair, the engine of my little Honda CM roaring, pegged out in top gear, as I rode across the moonlit back country roads of my hometown after getting off work late at night. Roads fading from chip-seal to gravel as I crisscrossed the grid that encompasses rural Midwest. The smell of cornfields and dust. The chill of the cold pockets of air and the relief of the warm ones as I circled the lake. No where to really go, no where to really be. Just time to kill and the wanderlust to be out.

Tonight really brought that back. Armed with 3G and Pandora I was back in time. No where to really go, no where to really be. Just time to kill and the wanderlust to be out.

Looking Through A Glass Onion

"I told you about strawberry fields

You know the place where nothing is real

Well here's another place you can go

Where everything flows."

                                             -John Lennon

I got my thinking shoes out Tuesday. A lucky break from the high heat days gave us a perfect Colorado spring day here in the Southeast. It just so happened to fall perfectly onto my day off and with a kitchen pass in hand, Daniel and I headed off to the mountain. A place I've not been to in far, far too long.

Hello, old friend. 

The past few months have been whirlwind. Time truly waits for no one and it keeps tick, tick, tickin' into the future. Between family visits, high mileage vacations, racing, work and all it's extra-curricular commitments, life became frenetic. Here we are about to start July and I'm not quite sure why I haven't taken the time to escape up to the mountain. I suppose the spontaneity of the trip and length of time away made the trip feel even more magical than normal, but the dry conditions and low humidity certainly contributed.

Daniel in rock flow mode. 

The mountain resets the soul. You leave clear headed, refreshed, and if you're lucky still in one piece. I've seen it send the most skilled to the emergency room for stitches within feet of the trail entrance and watched it dislocate no less than 3 shoulders in less than 3 bike lengths of rock. It deserves respect but it often rewards the courageous and diligent.

Upon landing one of the succession of rock drops in the opening 3 miles I felt something strange in my drive train. It felt like the chain was popping off the teeth of the cog. I stopped to check, all appeared ok, although my chain was a bit slacker than when I'd started. I pushed on. Climbing a short grunt of a hill I felt the popping again and took a closer look. My chain had really become slack and I suspected my sliders moving. Nope, just a busted link. No worries I've got an extra in my... crap it's still in my Kanza bag still being held captive in the Swiftwick van from out Kanza adventures.

Luckily my laziness came to the rescue. I'd left the chain long from my Colorado 20t setup and slid the sliders back to use my normal 19t, giving me enough chain to remove a link and press a pin back in to get me rolling again. No extra chain links or quick links (Grant!!!) between the two of us I wondered if we should just bail to the car and maybe hit up a local bike shop. Wait, I'm working on reinvention. We pressed on. Shame on me for not being more prepared. But time was getting on and the trail was calling. It'll have to hold. I'll have to have faith.

After we got rolling again, Mr. Flow Daniel started having a few dabs. In fairness this was his first ever trip to the mountain and his first time in real technical rocks with distracting 40-80' exposed drop offs as penalties for failure. We worked many sections until he had it, but some we left "on good notes" being I was the only one who could legally drive stick and knew where we were and how to get home.

This 'hour away Pisgah' is my favorite place to escape to in TN. Daniel agrees. Killer views enhance the already killer singletrack. A small taste of the mountains close to home. A good reset button for the soul.

Still rockin' the Colorado scratch-n-sniff. 

Summer is in full swing. Days are already getting shorter, but Summer rules are now in full effect. No trail ride without a post ride swimmin' hole. Be it Cheston, Duck, Old Hickory, or Kentucky/Barkley .

Unlucky in 'Tucky

0'dark-thirty

Less than a week of climbing off the bike at Kanza, I was waking up at 4am to head up to Kentucky for the White Lightening XC race. With 4 days additional hard riding in my legs and many, many lost hours of sleep the thought of having fun on my bike outweighed my common sense and desire to continue sleeping to the rhythm of the falling rain.

"Hey Adam stare into the sun so I can take an awkward photo. Perfect"

I picked up Jeremy on the way to the interstate and AdamD on our way through Nashville. The race started at 9am and we'd hoped our 5am departure would put us there shortly before 8am. As luck would have it, we made it to the North Welcome Center at LBL around 7am and were ready before the promoters had registration up. Which meant we had plenty of time to register and get a warm up in.

MX RSL ready to go. 

Adam and I headed into the woods around 8:45 and got a good portion of a lap done before ducking back out on the road to get to the start with a few minutes to spare. Along the trail we ran into fellow Kanza finisher and all-round bad-ass, The Godfather of Gravel, Mr. Stanley Wills. He was riding with Ludwig and were stopped in the trail getting a snack. They'd found a wild blackberry bush that had a good stock of berries. We helped ourselves to a few then headed on down the trail. It was good knowing Stanley was out to race too. If my legs didn't have any giddy-up my plan would be to ride with Stanley, which is always a guaranteed fun time.

AdamD's ode to John Wayne.

At the start line all the other half-million singlespeeders seemed to be armed with small cogs. My Colorado 20t was looking a little under-geared, but it's what I 'brung' and I'm sure my under-slept legs would appreciate it on the punchy climbs of the canal. We took off and fed into the woods at a blistering, dust covering pace. I had a thought as we railed around the rocky rooty trail: "This will be the first time I've ever raced on tubeless here in Kentucky. This should resolve my runs of pinchflats racing here." Note to self: shut-up.

Plugged. 

About 8 miles into the first lap I came off one of the root drop downhills and heard the telltale sign of spewing stans. I kept waiting for it to seal, but the tire kept going down. I stopped midway up the next climb and ran the bike to the top and off the trail, out of the way, and quickly went to work diagnosing the problem. I'd torn a lug off the tread. Damn. I started to pull out my inflation tulbag and get my rubberband to try to plug the hole. My band was gone. Damn. I checked again. Nope. So I started to prepare to put in a tube. I flipped the bike over and pulled the wheel off. By now everyone was passed me. I really didn't want to tube it. That would be a guaranteed pinch flat in another 4 miles. Then I remembered my Genuine Innovations plug kit in my other "spare parts" tulbag.  I pulled it out and plugged it in. Shot the tire with CO2 and it held. I was back in business. I threw the wheel back in and jumped back on the gas content to chase my way back to the pack.

MJ at the finish.

Being on a lug, any braking or big root hit would burp some air out, so after catching and passing about 6 racers, I was back off the side hitting the tire with more CO2. Then back on and passing the same 6 racers again only to have another rear flat a few miles up. Running it a little flat to the top of the hill had caused a tear at the bead that didn't want to seal at all. I had tubes, but only a partial bit of C02 remaining in my 25gram container. Not enough for a tube, but maybe enough to get me out of the woods. I'd given my other CO2 to another racer out of air early in the race and my pump and extra co2 are still in the Swiftwick van from Kanza.

Daniel finishing strong.

So I limped the bike to the next road cutoff at the North Welcome Center and rode in on a hissing tire with a dinged up rim. The race had been fun. The course awesome. Kentucky just doesn't like me and I wasn't about to trash a rim or hike 8 miles. Especially since my less than 2 week old $82 tire just bit the dust. Kansas must have called and told Kentucky I'd escaped its wrath. Damn K states.

 Teammates. 

It's all part of racing. I had a great time and there was a ton of talent at the race. The guys threw down some record crushing lap times. Fellow GrassMoots racer Adam "Meanjoe" Queen won the Cat 1 30-39 class on his MX singlespeed! I believe he was second or 3rd overall too. Kyle Taylor slayed everyone and Daniel had a great race coming in 3rd for the Juniors.

Post race and long-assed-drive recovery ride with JD.

After a long wait for awards and a very sub-par stop for food at the normally stellar Miss Scarlett's, we made the long drive home to the rain. The topic of "why do we do this?" popped up a few times on the way home, but the simple answer is because it's fun. Some days you are the hammer, others you are the nail. And just sometimes, you're the board that gets crushed by the hammer when it completely misses the nail.

Reinvented

Our third and final day in Steamboat came too quickly. We kicked it off with a revenge-timed-payback early morning breakfast with Corey, Kristin, and MattyP at Freshies. Great food, large portions, and I was unable to finish my half stack (much to Corey's chagrin). We chatted as the sun came up over the mountains then headed back to Moots for the start of the day.

We finished our laundry and cleaned the Moots apartment until lunchtime. MattyP was taking us out for a final ride and cooked up a great loop for our send off. We loaded up and headed down the road to Mad Creek for a Mad Creek/Red Dirt trail loop.

The trail was everything you'd imagine a Colorado trail to be: Steep climbs along a canyon with a raging river roaring below, loose rocks opening up to rippin' downhills, open field sections, followed by more climbing, a wooded section, finally finishing with a swoopy sweeping rock littered downhill roller coaster run. In a word "perfect."

Getting to ride with MattyP was a perfect treat to put the final stamp on our magical Steamboat trip. It's the friends that make the place, and MattyP pretty much makes most places feel like home. We got to chat about life, small things, the important and the unimportant things, about friends, and about riding. For a chilled out lunchtime ride it really hit home and left a bigger impact than the effort required to climb to the top.

It made me realize the longer you sit in your field without getting across the fence once in a while leads to a pretty heavy case of the grass being greener syndrome. Once you get over and experience the other side you realize the grass really isn't any different and the grass you had around you is pretty damn green too. The difference is all in your perspective. It made me realize that although much different than I had imagined 3 years ago, I am truly happy where I'm at and where life is currently headed. Though it is nice to get out of the pasture once in a while.

I love my job, my home, my family, my rides, and I'm surrounded by amazing friends the world over. I just need to make a better effort to make time for myself and for them apart from work and other obligations. It's in them that the magic happens and it's been too long between visits. I need to make an effort to correct that.

Once finished, we dropped MattyP back at work then H. and I headed up to Strawberry Park to get her third and final vacation requirement checked off the list: experiencing the healing powers of the hot springs.

We soaked in the hot mineral springs and reflected on our trip thus far. Things we liked, things we wished, things we missed. Once all pruned up, we dried off and headed back to gather our things. Our time in Steamboat had come to an end.

Reinvigorated

It just happened that not only was Steamboat enjoying above average and dryer temps than normal, but the XC trails had been perfectly dry and open for use. We were told that snow normally still covered much of the trails this time of year. We were lucky. Luck would also have it that we would be there for the first race of the Steamboat Springs Town Challenge Series: Howlin' Howelsen XC.

Completely new to the local trails and not acclimated to pegging it at 7000', I decided what the hell and threw my hat into the ring. What better way to get ingratiated into the town than by immersing oneself into the hypoxic hell that is XC racing at altitude.

Corey took me for a pre-race loop at lunchtime on Tuesday and I followed it up with another pre-lunch loop Wednesday morning. Armed with the knowledge 2 laps will give you, I lined up with the 19-29 Expert/Singlespeed class and quickly found myself off the back on the flat run out before the first of many steep grunt-ups.

 Moots' MattyP lined up and took the SS lead and the win. 

As the rollers started, I started making passes and working my way back up the field. The lungs were working better than I thought and the legs felt good. I could see MattyP leading the SS group 3 riders ahead and I made sure to stay close. As we headed into Eye to Eye, an uphill run on a very twisty section, the gearies between us shifted to granny and I had trouble getting around. I didn't want to be "that guy" making bad passes and being a jerk, especially wearing a Moots kit in Mootsville. I knew it would open up at the top and I could get around. Unfortunately, MattyP. and another SS'er (KevinK) got away and I spent the rest of the race chasing hard.

 I made my way past those in front of me and hammered all the way to the finish. The sketchy descent that had me on the brakes too much Tuesday, felt more intuitive this time and I was able to keep it pegged better than before (Only 2 full-sup riders passed me on the descent). All was going well until the final turn. I lost the front wheel a bit on the loose gravel pack and an SS'er (MattyE) got around me. I sprinted hard trying to bring him back before the line, but was one-hundredth of a second too late and off the podium by 1 spot.

I may have missed the podium but I made the paper.

I missed the podium but had a blast. The Town Challenge course, format, and post race party was incredible. Tons of fun. Lots of riders just out having a good time and only bragging rights as prizing. My MX RSL was ideal for the trails. I think it enjoyed being back home.

(side note: Nashville needs something akin to this. Something like our Weds night Crit series only for mountain bikers, maybe a short track series or something. We'll see what we can cook up, Messrs Gant, Bassett, and Norris.)

Anyway, it was tremendous fun racing out of my comfort zone surrounded by such classy people. It's a memory I'll keep with me for a long time. It was also great to get to hang out and race with the Moots Factory crew. CoreyP,  MattyP, and Simon tore it up and KellyB mixed it up out with the pro/open men.

Good times, yet the best was still to come.

Recharge

August 2007 is the last time H. and I took what was a vacation. Sure we traveled a bit for family functions, but as far as a just going to get outta dodge kinda trip, it'd been too long. Life has changed a lot since that time. In fact, it all started to come undone shortly after that. Luckily it's built back up to something better than before. As such, it was time for something new.

Initial plans were to recoup in Steamboat Springs after the completion of Dirty Kanza, however scheduling conflicts arose and the only way we could get it to work out was to hit Steamboat Springs before returning to Kansas. It meant less time in Steamboat and more days in the car, but it would have to do.

We hit Rabbit Ears Pass in the dark Monday night and were quickly greeted by 3 large Moose bulls lounging across the road we were traveling down. Luckily everyone escaped unscathed. As dad would say "The moose out front should have told ya."

Being future timers, we were up early and didn't waste much time getting out to experience Steamboat. Winona's was our first stop (thanks Corey), followed by some Yampa river pup time, a short hike, and nabbing some brake pads and a Walz cap from Orange Peel. Then it was back to our humble abode (aka the MOOTS factory) so I could get ready for a lunchtime ride at Emerald Mountain and H. could prepare for her first of 3 vacation requirements:

1.  Pedicure/Manicure 
2.  Massage
3.  Hot Springs

After returning from a lung challenging ride at altitude with Corey, H. and I headed back into town for a quick bite then off to another trail to run the dogs. Spring Creek was the trail and it turned out to be a perfect jaunt for us and the dogs. A river meanders along it, so the dogs had plenty of options to cool off and play. Steamboat day 1 was pretty much storybook happiness.

That evening we were treated to post ride drinks and conversation chilling outside on the beautiful rock veranda at the home of Moots CEO Rob Mitchell before heading off to a wonderful dinner with Rob, his wife Maggie, Corey and Kristin, and MattyP and Lacey. Filled with such great characters, our storybook Steamboat kept getting better.

Day two found us enjoying a private tour of the Moots facilities after breakfast. I got to see where and how all the beautiful frames came together. I also finally got to put my hands on the seat tube cap piece that had always puzzled me. It was an amazing tour. The factory hums, not from the equipment (though there is some cool old WWII era machinery there) but from the workers. Everyone we met was incredible in their own right. Such talent, not just in manufacturing, but in life. Their energy was contagious. I was feeling rejuvenated. A visit to this buzzing hive of infectious energy was slowly recharging my drained batteries. After several days being around and involved with the people of Moots, I could feel my outlook on life changing. Things felt different and it was about to get better.

The Adventures of Pete and Plete

I headed into Kansas this year with limited miles but more saddle time than I have had in the last 2 years. The "any time on a bike is time on a bike" method was all I really had time for this year. Whether it was 33 miles, 21 miles, 8 miles, or even 3 miles, it was all I had and I relished it. Previously I would rake up the miles by commuting during the work week then getting long rides on the weekends. It's been 3 years since I've had any "weekends" and long work hours make long commutes hard to get things done around the home. So I compromised and improvised.

Commutes were frequent, but not regular. 60 miles on average and about 2 times a week. Regular 20ish mile rides on Wednesdays, Thursday morning mtb rides followed by after work Juniors rides of about 30 miles made up most of my training "regimen." My longest ride to date was a 68 mile gravel ride months ago. It would have to do.

I was in shape to complete, but not compete this year. Which is probably for the best as mentally I needed a complete more so than a compete. That's not to say it made it any easier on me.

With limited gear options on the 29'er due to lack of additional chainrings, I had 2 options: an on the spinny side 59 gear inches or an on the mashy side 64 gear inches. 64 would have been perfect as long as the Kansas headwinds didn't show up, which they typically always do so I opted for the easier option. Gearing wise, it was a good choice. I was self-governed to not go out to hard, which is very easy to do at the start of Kanza, only to find yourself under-hydrated and over-exerted at 25 miles in when the headwinds get you.

This year I was rolling along pretty well. I was nestled in the first group off the leaders for the first 10 miles. I was comfortable but bouncing a bit. By mile 15 I found myself in the lead group (the leaders had blown the turn and were about 2 miles off in the wrong direction). This is when I rolled up to a fellow on an IndyFab and we started chatting. Turns out we both were "old Zac's" of Dicky's (it was Elk who'd later go on to finish 3rd SS).

We chatted for a while until a sudden ruckus came from behind and the original "leaders" engulfed us as they made their way past us. We hadn't known they'd botched the turn so suddenly we found ourselves in a new situation and we all jumped onto the train. A few miles in and I reminded myself I didn't need any of that, plus my gearing was starting to show it's spinny-ness. I backed off into my own pace again and rode solo for most of the race (about 179 miles lone-wolfing it between packs).

Had I known how strong I would be throughout the entire race and the legs I'd have at the end, I would have sprung for a 34 tooth chainring and putting me at my preferred 61.6 gear inch. The taller gearing would have allowed me to roll at 18mph more comfortably than I could with the 59gi, as evidenced by my first ever case of stage 1 pressure ulcers below my sit bones. As it was I bounced my way along at 15.5-16 mph.

But be that as it may, I needed to com-plete, not pete and my gearing made it so. I finished in 16:36 (which would have been 16:28 or less had I stayed with Backcountry Research Teammates Lee and John who made the correct turn and didn't go for the 2 extra miles) exactly where I had hoped to finish - before 17 hours.

I felt great throughout the whole event. I was fueling well and never got sick. I was tracking food intake by miles and water by time. I kept to about 100-150 calories per hour and about a water bottle every 45-50 minutes.  I've learned my lessons the hard way. Electrolyte intake was carefully monitored and calories were kept at a minimum to prevent gastric shutdown. Bottles were calorie free to help keep track of caloric intake and so I could adjust hydration needs based on temperature and conditions, yet not adversely affect my food intake.

 Monster and me recovering at Check Point 3

I did get a few punches landed from the 3rd leg (59 miles in the heat of the day) where I rode the last 15 miles (about an hour and 15 minutes) without water. I was wishing for a lemonade stand, damn lazy youth of today. That left me pissed off and fired up to finish though. I did have to take about an hour to recover from the deficit before leaving checkpoint 3 and thanks to Grant and H for the ice towel and H's quick blue icy thinking, I left feeling great, but behind on time. So much for a 15 hour finish.

I rode the first 19 of the remaining 37 miles solo, lost in my iPod enjoying the setting sun and the vastness that is Kansas. As dark was settling in, I ran into some fellow racers lost in Americus. We joined forces to combine lights and help track for markers, which seemed to disappear the closer we got to town, making the map more and more important. I had been keeping my map in my Revelate Designs mountain feedbag's webbed pocket, but somehow when I reached for it, it was gone. Leaving me reliant upon others or risk blowing a turn and getting lost. While checking the map with fellow rider Josh, a group rolled passed us and I heard  two people say in tandem "There's Thad" "There's Thad" and I sped up after them. It was John and Lee. Hell yeah, we were going to finish strong!

They were both running smaller gearing than normal and for that, I think we out gunned them a bit as they fell off pace. We were checking for a turn and they caught back on, thankfully because John made the right navigation call after a strange left/right turn that didn't match up to what the map illustrated (which is lucky for John because I declared we'd all get to punch him in the arm if he was wrong). Then they were off the back again and were off the front, hammering away a mile into the wrong direction. I think I heard them yell, but it was too late, we were gone. After realizing our mistake we map checked, raced back the additional mile, and were back on course and headed for home. I'm happy Josh and I were well matched pace wise, he made the last miles in more fun. I'd missed out having lone wolfed it so much of the day that having someone else to work with made the miles tick passed quickly.

Soon enough we were high five-ing kids and greeted by roaring cheers as we made our way down the chute and across the finish line in downtown Emporia. Finishers of the DK200.