Sharpening the Knife

The annual Mousetail Challenge XC race was this past Sunday. Last year it was my first XC race aboard the new knife and I kinda hated it. I was still new to the wagon wheels and it felt sluggish and slow on the mostly uphill but twisty course compared to the snappy 26'ers.

I was also woefully out of race shape. Something that took me months to finally admit to myself. This year I've gotten to ride more. Not necessarily more miles or more hours, but more purposeful and Sunday it showed. I entered the woods 5th wheel and my plan was to race for third and hope for the best (the best being 1 and 2 taking themselves out and moving me up the podium). Half way up the first climb I had to pass the dude in front of me, he was woefully slow. I sat in behind 3rd for a bit as his pace was good, but any turn or downhill he was all over his brakes. Sorry Charlie, I didn't sign up for a Jeffy Nomentum ride.

I made a pass and quickly caught up to the 2nd place guy. That is when I realized my legs had something to say that I've not been able to for a couple of years now - "I can go faster than this."  I made my way around and was off chasing 1st. About 2 miles before the end of the first lap I caught and passed 1st place. I told myself it was mine to lose now so don't be stupid and found a groove that I hoped would stick. It stuck.

Daniel "two firsts this weekend" Medley out preparing for the State Championships.

The State Championships are in two weeks. I'm feeling pretty good. The miles since my reboot in Steamboat have been good to me. I'm back to pushing a solid gearing and having something in the legs. I've also been to a few Knife Wielding 101 courses this year and have learned how to stop worrying and to love the bomb. Hopefully things will line up right for me and I can improve upon my silver from last year. We shall see.

Before the Storms

It's been a long time since I've not wilted in the heat. The past 2 years haven't been so kind to me with riding and heat. The past few weeks have hit us with 100+ degree temps that seemed to hold us hostage until the recent wet weather set in. Dry and dusty trails, hot and melty pavement greeted us wherever we roamed. And roam we did.

It kicked off early morning the Saturday before the Fourth of July with a little 'Stand By Me'- esque exploration. Some trail here, some gravel there, a small jaunt on an old abandoned Civil War era train tracks. Our Breakfast Club ride has become a favorite weekday tradition of mine this summer and it never ceases to amaze me how much adventure we can find less than a mile from downtown.

With many of us having Wednesday off for the Holiday, a Southern Discomfort Gravel Grinder ride was put together by the usual gravel suspects to kick off the fireworks early. It would be a day of hill attacks and downhill sprints. A large crew assembled before the true heat of the day kicked in and we meandered our way around the gravel gold that is Hickman County. The economic times and the diminishing population of the small rural communities have hit some of the local general stores harder than others. We recently lost one of our favorite refueling stations along the way which made for a much hotter and harder ride than anticipated. One stop was all we were going to get and it came less than a third of the way through the route. Plan accordingly.

Whenever a group of riders greater than 3 get together, the chances of mechanical issues grows proportionally higher. There were several flats encountered along the way and even a tire failing beyond repair. So slowly but surely our group whittled away until we had four smaller groups each trying to make their way back to the cars. The first group had a hard time keeping pace and opted to head off and explore at their leisure. The second was hiding out in the shade of some trees waiting on a vehicle to pick them up. A third continued on the original route but waited at an old country church for stragglers and a chance to rest in the shade and refill empty water bottles from a spicket. The rest followed me as we raced back to the cars trying to get home before Fourth of July plans fell South. It was a long hot day in the saddle, but not one that ever put me into the ropes. It's good to be back.

Sunday brought with it the real heat. 104 degrees in the shade on Raccoon Mountain. It was hot. The ride started from a blacktop parking lot 10 miles from the top of Raccoon Mountain. We slogged in the heat finishing a water bottle before even reaching the top. It was going to be a long day.

I hear people rave about the 'Coon all the time. It seems as if a caravan from Nashville is heading down every weekend. I've often thought about going but just can't seem to make it past Monteagle. I mean the trails are fun, the views are great, but I just don't get the same wow factor as I do from some of the other mountain trails closer to home. But I gave it another go. Stepped outside my comfort zone and hit it up. I'm glad I did, though sad we parked in a hot, shade-free parking lot no where near a swimming hole. Note to self: Never ever break Summer Rules.

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.