soil sample

2012-01-24T17:50:00.000-08:00

Update

2012-01-23T10:32:00.000-08:00

So much has happened in the past week. On the drive out Collin got a call from Nick Pence saying he just passed us on I-40 going the otherway before we landed in Flagstaff where we spent the night and went to a friend's engagement party. The past couple days have been good. I earned the felted Bruce Lee Tee shirt a few days back, got the tour of the big new stuff that feeds into the old big stuff ala Damifino to Hangover. Tommahawk is about as steep and tech as it gets. Steep, steep roll-ins. Scary steep, tight switchbacks. A proper DH trail where bike control and skill win out over just letting the bike do the work for you. Would love to hit it again, knowing what I am getting into and also shoot some photos along the way. This is about as good as it gets. Wake up late, work on the bikes, ride your guts out on top notch trail with good peeps until the sunsets and then back to the house for food and hangouts then pass out early. Riding with different folks on the daily and seeing familiar faces on the trail is super cool. Its a small demographic of cyclists that come to Sedona for extended periods of time. After a week here, I am feeling the effects of pinning it on the daily. Tired legs and arms, as well as an increase in fitness. Three weeks to go and much trail to be ridden. Not shooting much with the pocket rocket so images will have to wait.

2012-01-17T19:52:00.000-08:00

We took our time getting moving today and missed the heli-shoot, but that doesnt mean we didnt have fun with helicopters. Here the fun police lets loose...

We didn't have much direction on what to ride, so we thought we just start off with Highline and take it from there. Highline was the next step in our acclimation toward gnarlier terrain. Traction was great and there many slick rock playgrounds to get things spicy. From there we headed out to ride Sketch, Ridge, and Bandit before making taco Tuesday here for lunch. 3 blocks and back on trail riding Broken Arrow and back out to the Point, heading back Llama. A solid 6 hours on the bike.

2012-01-16T20:25:00.000-08:00

Today we did some grocery shopping and got in a good ride on the Shades then onto Chicken Point and then out on the Hogs. A good warm up to the gnarly stuff. May get in on a helicopter photo shoot in the AM tomorrow.

This is the begining of our commuter route. It doesnt get any better than out-the-door-riding.

And so it begins...

2012-01-16T12:13:00.000-08:00

Any of you who have spoken to me in the past couple of months know that I am spending a month in desert with nothing to do but focus on riding, taking pics and in a nutshell, just living the life. We arrived at out home for the month yesterday afternoon in time for a nice ride on Slim Shady and Made in the Shade. We ran into our friend Zack out on the trails who used to run the Red Agave, but just hooked up a gig with the public schools teaching and running the bike program. The night before, we threw down in Flagstaff and met some great folks there for an angaugement party. We hung at the house, had some good food, before heading to the bowling alley and then off to the this cowboy bar called the Museum Club. Good times!

Ruby warmed up to and we spent countless hours spooning in the back of the van watching the sunset and rise the next morning...

The wringer...

Home, sweet home...

2012-01-10T07:16:00.001-08:00

stay tuned...

Top 11 of 2011

2012-01-04T13:27:00.000-08:00

Eleven of my favs (in no particular order) from the year for one reason or another. I think its safe to say that my camera of choice for the year was the BBF due to many of my top images came from it.

2012-01-03T11:15:00.000-08:00

I have been negligent, very much so, as I havent updated the blog in several, dare I say, weeks? I have been one very long bender. Actually, the holiday season gets hectic at the work place, and that coupled with the fact my internet connection has been out. And by out I mean the person I had been poaching from is either away on vacation or they have wised up to me stealing their bandwidth. Normally, I would just go to the coffee shop and do my business, but seeing as I am obstaining from coffee drinking for the time being, it is one again the blog that suffers. To be completely honest, I don’t think anything that I have been up to recently would be of interest to most of my readers so I will spare you the gorey details.

I was able to fanagle my way out of work today to get in a big ride on Great North Mountain (?), my first ride since my last post, as well as round things out for a five day weekend! I made my way out toward Wardensville and watched the sun rise over the western slope of the Massentutten ridge. Oh how I have missed the beauty of the early morning. We were gonna meet at P13 near the bottom of Little Stony but when I pulled in I only saw a kid going for a ride with his dad so I went down to the next lot and ran into Harlan and then Matt driving up. Turns out that kid and his dad were actually Dillon and Ian who were supposed to be riding with us so I turned back and we pulled in. Something like 20 people showed up and none of which were slouches. Some were of the fitness/racer variety and the All-mountain riding leveled the playing field nicely. This was going to be my maiden voyage on the new ride as well as the first time I have been on a dual suspension bike in 4 years. It took a while to get the bugs worked out and I paid dearly on the climbs but the payoff was ripping descents in a fashion that had been lond since forgotten. Plowing through gnarly rocks and having the confidence to pull some big moves such as riding down from the outlook on Half Moon. One dab and one slow motion over the bars moment, but it all came back. At some point later in the day a renegade rock flew up from my front whell and broke my inner derailleur cage which got worse as the day progressed but I was able to make it back to the car, more or less incident free. I was happy to be able to pick Pat’s brain a bit about how the Rockburn skills park became a reality and how to go about selling the idea of one here in DC. As the newly appointed Maryland/ DC at- large representative for MORE, that is one of the things I am focusing on. I have been slack as there as well, having many irons in the fire over the holidays and things will probably continue that way until mid-feb as I will demonstrating my most notable trick of all in a couple weeks: the disappearing act when I ghost out to Sedona for a month. Oh yeah! It was great to ride with some folks I normally just see at races such as Harlan Price from Philly, a strong presence of Cupcakes from Gettysburg, Zack from Blacksburg and of course some of the usual suspects from Harrisonburg. Plenty of chunky rocks to make the forearms cramp and slow, technical climbing to make even the fittest of folks’ lungs burn. This was also the first time trying out the 2x10 set up, and all day I was wishing I had my granny gear. I am happy to report that I have got a triple crank set on order. Other things I have to get used to is the super low bottom bracket as I had more than my fair share of pedal strikes, but the possibility of a longer fork will take care of all of that mess.

How I have missed early mornings in the mountains...

Matt has been riding really well this year...

Map check. Notice Harlan's worm vein. Less stress in the new year my friend...

Self portarit.

With the temporary bad aid of a 9 speed XT rear derailleur, Saturday brought a morning ride at the Watershed where I was to meet up with some cats from NOVA. In typical NOVA fashion, I was left sitting at the Shed waiting for over an hour before they changed the meet up spot and neglected to tell me so. I pedaled around solo for a bit before calling it a day with a couple of burned bridges more rear derailleur issues, most likely due to the 9 speed XT der which is temporarily replacing the 10 speed unit. Did I mention I miss my granny ring? Funny, I remember in the late ‘80s bike with only 2 rings up front being called “city bikes.” Pretty much where I feel a 29er with the 2X10 set up belongs. I would like to think I am not the only one, but on the other hand, I might just be weak. Anyway, Monday will bring a triple up front, new XT rear derailleur and a hand full or hangers and an order placed on a bigger fork which I will hopefully have in hand by the time I leave for AZ. The end.

2011-12-19T18:14:00.000-08:00

Reminds me a bit of The Hangover combined with the South Yuba Trail...

Football is all about the hits...

Holy Bigness!!!

Bummin' Around

2011-12-16T08:30:00.000-08:00

Just some shots taken around town...

4 Ways to Sunday

2011-12-12T21:17:00.000-08:00

Ok, I lied. I thought my riding season was done until the new year, but thats not the way it is supposed to go. I left the house at 4:20am headed for harrisonburg on Sunday to do a big ride on Elliot's Knob. All 4 sides and then Crawford Mountain. That is a big ride for this time of year. We met at Mr. Js, the usual spot for riding in the area and made our way out in Matt's van, five of us piled in with the bikes. It may have been the coldest day of the year thus far. 16 degrees as I made my way out of the city and around 30 when we started out riding the road. We turned and climbed up Falls Hollow and then down Cold Spring. From there we rode the Hite Hollow road up and then Left onto North Mountain, once headed for Elliot's A nice dusting of snow covered the ground form much of the ride and filled in some holes between rocks. Stream crossings were running high and dangerously cold on a day such as this, but we all managed to stay dry. On the second round atop Elliot's, we headed all of the way up to staorm the tower. The door on the old fire look-out tower was open and the temp was 75 in there according to the thermometer inside. We warmed up and had food and bevs before venturing back out into the cold bound for Crawford Mountain. The only time I have done these trails was during SDS where I am usually pretty spent by the time I get there. Not to say I wasnt spent, as the contant overheating and chilling was wearing me down, however, I made an attempt at the 5 Sisters, or hike-a-bikes. I cleaned 3 of them which is a personal best for me. Instead of coming down Chimney Hollow, we headed for Crawford Knob where we regrouped and Matt cramped up. The trail coming off that side is great other than the non-stop lashing one gets from the brush. Surprisingly, I didnt have anything to show from the beating. Toward the bottom, the map came out to check the route. Nothing like having the map after the sun has already set. A sketchy road ride back on 42. At least 2 of us had something that resembled a light.

If you did the Tour 2 years ago then you know just how steep this climb is...

Long Shadows...

Helter Shelter...

And in case you live under a rock or for some other reason the news hasnt reached you yet, you are looking at the latest addition to the Race Pace/ Trek MTB Team...

2011-12-05T19:19:00.000-08:00

Yet another rideless weekend. I have a feeling this is how things are going to go down pretty much until I head out to Sedona as there are lots of irons in the fire right now, but we will see if we cant keep you entertained. I got my JRA on and took some pics at the Occupy DC scene. I split before the pepper spray came out. Here are some images I have been sitting on for a minute...

Famous Anus

2011-12-04T14:46:00.000-08:00

Making an ass of myself on national TV. Thats me getting clothes lined at 2:30.

Until next time...

Poacher

2011-11-28T20:44:00.000-08:00

I failed at two attempts to get out riding this weekend due to catching up with folks back in town for a few to see family, but I was able to get for a couple hours of power today. After finishing a writing project that some of may lay eyes on next month, I packed up the car and drove out to the local trails to find a sign that said the woods were closed. I almost felt bad for poaching today but once I realized that conditions were good and I broke a sweat wearing short sleeves at the end of November, those feelings dissipated. Then I drove out to Bethesda to ditch the car and prevent getting yet another ticket and risking a boot. With CX bike on board I headed for the river and stopped off at the Great Escape to hang out and snap off a few rounds of film. I poached the single track along the way. The cross bike makes the easy single track a bit more interesting.

Saturday night was my Whitman class reunion. Not going to say just how many years, but its been a while. It was kind of awkward at first, having those same feelings of anxiety rising up in me once again, but before long, I saw some old friends and loosened up a bit. I hung out with Paul, his wife, Maisie and finally got to meet the woman Sese was scheduled to marry before his early departure from this Earth 3 days before they were to marry. He was remembered well last night and Dan even wore a name tag with Eric's name and pic on it. Los was there who I apparently ran into at juvie, both of us getting caught on the roofs of different schools and who got kicked out of the bar at the reunion. Seriouly? Talk about keeping it real! Anyway, a bunch of folks protested by heading off to another bar where we stayed until close. Then it was a sketchy ride home on the CX bike poaching the single tracks of Glover Archbald Park.

I was on the fence about going as I didnt get along to well the general population there and ended up being asked to leave after what I found out last night to be a legendary fight that people know as "Nate vs The Nerd." Apparently, neither I nor the nerd were seen on Whitman property after that fateful day. Since the circumstances under which the fight broke out are not as legendary as the fight itself, I figure what better place to tell the story than right here.

For those of you who knew me back when, I was a bit of an outcast at school and society as a whole. I skipped a lot of school; and by a lot I mean I probably would have had to repeat 11th grade had I not made my little arrangement with the administration to stop showing up. Anywho, I was in my work study class, the class I was required to take in order to leave at noon in order to go turn wrenches at Big Heel Bikes in Bethesda. We not only had a test, but we had a substitute that day, so I quickly filled out my scantron and snuck out of class. At the end of class, I returned to find an angry nerd (sorry, I dont know his name) who had been informed I ripped up his test. Really? I wasnt even in class to do such a thing. A scuffle broke out and then we parted ways. We ran into each other again after our next class on the second floor of A hall where we got into it again. We threw down for several minutes to an audience of over 100 people. A teacher jumped in and tried to break it up, but we continued throwing punches. I remember landing a solid right over the teachers shoulder square in the nerd's jaw. A hand reached out of the crowd and grabbed the teacher and pulled him away. The fight carried on a bit longer until I noticed principal Jerome Marco and his minion whose name escapes me. I turned to walk to the office and caught a right to the back of the head; the one shot that I actually felt, but I kept on walking.

In the office, bargaining began, but my last chip had been cashed in months prior. They got straight to the point. "Its obvious you dont want to be here, and we dont want you here. If you leave on your own, we wont expell you." I took the deal. What else was I going to do? Seeing as it was May this would mean having to repeat 11th grade. I spent my next 2 years at The Washington Ethical High School in DC which is now the NORA school in Silver Spring and is really what I needed out of a school. Some direction with some great teachers who opened up to the students and felt more like mentors or friends than authority figures. I have fond memories of that as I do of the 20 year reunion of a school I never graduated from. Eric, you were missed. Rest in peace my friend.

Sorry for the lack of photos.

Doll Ridge

2011-11-21T12:36:00.000-08:00

Sunday's forecast was calling for 60 degrees, which is A-ok for this time of year here so email started going out on wednesday about getting a ride going in Fort Valley and I was partial for riding Doll Ridge. Doll is the most technical of sections out there and although it is not part of the "Ring," it is on the route for the "Massenutten Rim." With big rock move after big rock move, each needing precision wheel placement, this ride is something of a Baryshnikov ballet, where we brandish our bikes baton styl on the rocks. Dan picked me up early in his new to him Eurovan which gives new the hankering for a new ride, and made the trip listening to the Prince/ Time/ Sheila E mix tape which came with the van. Rumor on the Facebooks was that Sue would be bringing homemade cinnamin buns and I couldnt wait to sink my teefs into one or 4 of those sweet, sticky rolls.

We climbed Bear Wallow and dropped down the backside Figure 8 of Hate style, making a left onto the fireroad. Then we Climbed up the orange blazed trail making a right onto Doll Ridge where we would come from the south. Thing got weirder and weirder as the ride went on. I witnessed a couple riders high- siding and tumbling over the ridge's edge onto the rocks below. Sessioning ensued. Sections were cleaned and others left for another day as the sun had set with still much ground to cover and the ridge. Highlights of the day, other than Sue's sweets, were Paul's indian food explosion in his pack, Collin sticking the new freeride line on Bear Wallow in low light and new hardman, Colin 2.0 hanging on for the full day on his second ever mountain bike ride! Pictures never do this ridge justice. get out there and see for yourself.

Collin w/ the East ridge in the background...

Kurt on a step...

Tim trails 2.0 down the backside...

Huuuurrlll...

Reservior dogs...

"Chillaxin'" as some may call it...

Yep, its chunky...

On deck...

heard a rumor that McRad is back!

then I found it it was just the McRib. A bit less exciting, but exciting nonetheless...

Tweedle Dee

2011-11-16T19:52:00.000-08:00

This past weekend was the DC Tweed Ride. Not the kind of thing I would typically miss a day in the woods for; especially a magnificent fall day like this past Sunday, but for some reason, it appealed to me this year. I met some good folks and saw some great outfits. I was hoping to run into this guy but no dice...

I ran out of film by the time we got to Smith Commons for the afterparty sponsored by Hendricks gin. Its a shame folks dont dress this way on the daily...

Falling Behind

2011-11-14T07:00:00.000-08:00

Since I have started shooting with film, there is always a lag before getting the images up. That lag has gotten even worse since I moved and dont have internet. Last weekend was the first annual Fall Brawl in Fredders. Lots of folks RSVP'd. 5 of us showed up. Sounds pathetic, like those high school nights where I got ditched and spent Friday night at home with my parents watching TV. Yuck! Just so happens, 5 was the magic number and the group rolled steady and heavy. pace was pushed as there wasnt a sloucher in the bunch. We rode the Gambrill side first, over to Kublai Khan which had mad trees down from the recent snow. then up and over to the lot to see if any slummers were there for the 10am. No dice, but we did see a lot of Punk Bikers. Even through the super techy drop trails, the crew stayed together. Perfect weather and trail conditions, melt down bevs and we even got to witness an oh so Pro bailout move by Pat Miller. We didnt even know he had split! I thought about Tomi when that trout swam betwteen my wheels on Supersweet. Everyone missed something. My pictures were lack luster, or so I felt as I carried the point and shoot. Here are sumtings...

I guess it was too cold for the Timber Rattlers, so I give you the Cobra...

and a few from Pat...

the creek was up and I made several attempts on the creek crossing...

finally, success...

I am sure you have all seen this one by now as it has gone viral...

Virginia Mountain Bike Trail from Scott Wootten on Vimeo.

2011-11-12T06:52:00.001-08:00

2011 Fixed Gear Universe Championships from Scott Wootten on Vimeo.

2011-11-08T08:46:00.000-08:00

I have been crazy busy and have spent little time on the bike since the Va MTB trip but got out this weekend. These are not from this weekend. The last of my images from the Va trip...

... and in case you are wondering, these were shot with latest hipstermatic app called "film"

Helter Shelter

2011-10-26T09:26:00.000-07:00

Since I didnt get out this weekend due to handling some bidness, I will just post a few more fotos from last week's adventure. You would probably be more entertained by images of the photo shoot this weekend, but they are not available for public consumption. Here are some more boring sights of another boring adventure in the hideous highlands of Virginia. The journey began at rt55 along the County Line Trail and pushed through the gnarley rocks at Big Schloss before traveling along portions of the SM100, Dragon's Back, Rowdy Dogg and Iron MTN 100K. Yes, there was a very short portion of the Creeper Trail involved unless you are talking about those sections of trail that see no traffic, forcing us to travel at a Creeper's pace.

Chris' foto of the us crossing the second oldest river in the world has created quite a buzz...

Poseur shot by J-Law...

Regrope...

Haggered...

Kurt accepts the challenge of bunnyhopping a cattleguard. Dont ask how it turned out..

Consultation...

Boy-yay!

Helter Shelter...

Eager to nic some of those properly exposed digi captures for the sharing. Sharing caring...

Colors

2011-10-21T07:36:00.000-07:00

I received an email a couple of months back from the folks at Shenendoah Mountain Touring inviting me to ride from Wardensville Virginia to Damascus, Virginia along what is being called the Virginia Mountain Bike Trail. 418 miles and over 65,000’ of climbing (or descending if you are a glass half full kinda person) in just over 2 weeks. I had squandered too much time over the summer to justify a 2 week vacation, so I figured I would ride the last 4 days of trail that would all be new to me. Chris and Matt started their journey at the County Line Trail off of rt 55, rode through Big Schloss, Trout Pond and down Secret South en route to the Stokesville Campground just in time to celebrate the Shenendoah Mountain Bike Festival with some riding and trail work. See previous post for those details.

From there it was the Southern Traverse, Douthat, Dragon’s Back and then into Blacksburg and the Jefferson NF where I hooked up with the gang on a rest day which consisted of just over 4 hours of riding on the local trails sans one Chris Scott who headed for the hosptial to confirm his fears of a shoulder separation he earned the day before. Before skipping town, I scoped out the weather which called for seasonable temps with a 90% chance of adventure. We rolled out early as there were some 65 miles to cover IF we could successfully ford the New River cutting out a road ride go ‘round that would tack on an additional 20ish miles. After scoping out several possible crossings, we encountered a local who asked us what we were up to. After some smoothing over, he gave up some inside info on the ledges in water and wished us well after saying we would never make it with bikes. The water felt surprisingly nice in the morning sun and we made our way across. The rest of the day was a mix of pavement, rail trail, double and single track before reaching the Sunrise Cabin just in time to take in a magnificent sunset from the deck.

The night was nice enough that Matt and I turned down soft beds to overnight on the deck. We jumped on the Virginia Highlands trail at the end of our driveway and continued on, riding blown out fall line trail for the first half of the day which opened up later on to some great contour riding in peak colors. Lots of Rhodo tunnels and some areas that the corridor was completely grown over, smacking faces and shredding arms before opening up again to fast and flowy track and half riding. We dumped out at the road where we spotted Tyler across the road with the tour mobile at our campground for the night.

During the night, I could feel the weather blowing in with a few showers and by the time we left in the morning a steady rain was falling. Heading for Iron Mountain, we had everything from morning fog to warm sunshine before the front blew in bringing with it heavy rain and temps dropping below 50. I ran out of film and seem to have lost at least one roll somewhere along the way. Boyes managed to triple flat on the final downhill into Damascus where everyone scurried to change out of wet clothes and get things packed so we could get pizza and celebrate the end another adventure. There was more to the day including some amazing, flowing, peadally goodness and “light rock” riding, but the memories seemed washed away by the wetness later in the day. In case you are wondering, Chris rode the final 4 days with his shoulder separation. MOre thought and images will follow. Here are some of mine...

Cue the music...

The Festicle

2011-10-12T08:47:00.000-07:00

Yes, folks once again the Shenandoah Fall Mountain Bike Festival was a hoot with fun for the whole family. Friday kicked things off with the traditional Six Pack Downhill on Trimble Mountain followed by dinner and late night hangouts around the campground. Saturday, after breakfast, I got in on some of that good GW Forest riding including some Dowells Draft, Braley’s, Camp Todd, Chestnut, and what might possibly be the last ever ride across Grooms Ridge which is well on its way to becoming Wilderness in exchange to get another bit of land out of hock. The trail was already well grown over and most of us got our arms well ravaged by the brush and limbs which now obscure the route.

Six-pack attack...

Chase on Groom's...

On top of Groom's...

Saturday night, folks are always excited to check out the slide show and then get their groves on. There is always some ribbing of those who sneak off to bed early. Last year, it was Adam and Pat who got it bad. I was actually surprised to see Adam back after the torment Thomas and the angry mob sent his way, but it was Pat who no-showed this year. Adam was left be and the focus was on JV’s Kyle and Kurt. A posse gathered under the pavilion and made it’s way across the field in the cover of night. Kyle’s tent was given a vigorous shaking and then bevs tossed under the rain fly. When this proved unsuccessful, Leo the large labber-doodle, was sent in to do some sniffing around. Did I mention Whitney was in there too? With Kyle playing possum, we wandered over to Kurt’s van with him nowhere to be found. Anyway, we rounded up a couple of “gremlins” aka, little bikes, for the beer crits. After about an hour, Kurt was spotted getting up from the hammock under the pavilion and heading back to his van. He had been passed out right there in plain sight.

Since the focus of the festival is trail work, I figured I would head out to do some on sunday. A new trail heading up to Narrowback is going in, and it is going to be ripping. After a few hours of work, the lot of us headed back to camp for lunch and then out on the Birthday/ JV and friends ride on Lookout then an out and back on the new stuff. I mean how fast do you want roll some flowy, pumptrack, single track? Its your call. Sprinting and chasing insued with some jumping along the way. Kurt and Collin cleared out a drop along the way and were caught in the act by Thomas and I was busted ditching my volunteer slot by the Wolf, which I will say was kindly offered to be picked up so I could ride with the gang.

Back at the campground, things were winding down, which is always a little bit depressing, but I was handed a wad of money from stuff I had sold at the swap. In addition to the Worksman trike that WABA took off my hands on Friday, I sold the Van Dessel, some rims, a fork, maybe the EWR and a bunch of other bits. Finally, I am able to justify buying Ryan’s cross bike. Now if I had only packed the Pugsley to sell…

2011-10-11T07:27:00.000-07:00

Fall is officially here, which means the summer duldrums have finally come to an end. With the cooler temps and low humidity, comes the inspiration for getting out and going big on the bike. This autumn has been wetter than usual, however things cleared up just in time for the Fall Festival at the Stokesville campground. Zero percent chance of rain in the forecast for the first time in over a month and perfect day time temps for getting out and doing trail work and riding.

Next weekend, I will be heading down to Damascus, Va for 4 days of backcountry riding with SMT and a few other hand picked riders with another weeekend of what right now look like perfect temps and no chance of rain. Feel free to soak me on my commutes this week if it means perfect weekend conditions.

Weekends are quickly filling up as I dont see one without plan in the next month or so. By then, things will be crazy at work, buckling down for the holidays and before I know it, I will be on my way to Sedona once again for fun in the sun while the rest slum in the cold winter. But dont fret, I will be back in time to get in a snow ride or two, and maybe even the Superbowl ride.

A teaser from the weekend...

WWCD? (what would coach do)

2011-10-05T09:55:00.000-07:00

Some more photos from the Nutt via Chris Scott

...and dont forget, the festicle is this weekend!

... then perhaps 4 days along the Virginia Mountain bike trail.

Out the Door

2011-09-29T13:44:00.000-07:00

There is always a lot of discussion about “out the door” rides meaning you get up, walk out your front door and get some on the local trails. Go to any online forum and you will find “best out the door town” threads galore. Of course, “best of” anything is highly subjective, but lest I digress. You will always hear the same towns; Moab, Grand Junction, Tahoe, St George, bla, bla bla… But Harrisonburg? Where the heck is that, Pennsylvania? 2 years ago I was turned onto the Burg and it wasn’t long after that that Kyle got my attention with his own version of an out the door ride.

Meeting in front of an apartment in Court Square in historic Harrisonburg at 530am on a soggy Wednesday morning, 4 of us began our journey to ride one of the gnarliest ridges around. Sure there are only 3 real climbs, and by real climb we are talking an hour or so of climbing before getting to the ridge. The climbs are actually where the recovery more or less occurs as this isnt your scenic flat, buff ridge. The knife edged Massenutten ridge is riddled with undulations and big rock move after big rock move to test even the strongest upper bodies.

Riding farm roads from town, we climbed up the western slope of Massenutten after being reeled in by one Chris Scott who sneak attacked us with flash lit photo ops in the dark. Topping out on the ridge, the sky was just bright enough for us to extinguish our lights as we rode up to Kaylors Knob. Layers were peeled, calories consumed and we carried on. Chris Scott’s freehub on the Mumblefish began slipping as we made our way to Bird Knob and took in the view at the overlook before dropping down some sketchy chutes, cluttered with wet, green rocks. Point and shoot. Feather the brakes and let it roll. Lucky for Chris, Dan Oates was meeting us at Rt211 with some viddles which is also where Chris hopped in a caught a ride back to town. Now we were 4.

After filling up on pizza, ice cream bars and sodas, it was off to ride the east Ridge. There was discussion of climbing the road to Kennedy Peak, but opted for climb single track via Stephens Trail. The East ridge was a mix of wet and dry rocks, so you had to stay on your toes or end up on the ground. The next 8 hours seemed to were lost in a haze with the 4 of us all having our moments of triumph and weakness. We kept things moving and made it to Buzzards in time to catch the sunset over the West ridge. Back at the car, we discussed how many places have a 14 hour technical ridge ride like this out their doors. Then we realized that most people don’t even enjoy a 2 hour ride out there. Now its back to sorting out what ride is going to be next.

2011-09-27T06:45:00.000-07:00

For some reason, I have been waking up sometime during the 4 o’clock hour for the past week or so. Last night it was 4:20 am and probably had something to do with the pigmy pachaderms and the alligator nibbling at my rear end. Thank god it was only a dream… or was it?

I milled about the apartment for a bit, working on a couple of projects before heading out to Tastee’s and then off to test out the gearing I put on the single speed. In case you are wondering, it sucks. I have made a real effort to make this micro gear thing work, but the pedal strokes always feel dead. I guess there is some physics there I don’t quite understand as the gear inches appear to be reasonable. I just keep thinking how nice it would be to have extra clearance for stuff like Caylor’s and Buzzard’s on the off chance I were to ride one or both of those sometime in the near future (hint, hint). The rocks were greasy but the colors are beginning to show themselves and mushrooms of all shapes, colors and sizes are popping up everywhere.

After finding out my gear is more or less useless, I was off to my LBS which is a nice 45 minute drive away to see if the 32 tooth White Industries chainring I spied a few months ago was still lying about. Sure enough it was so I picked it up along with some other bits and nutritional supplements to have on hand. I had the digi with me so I snagged more than a few photos; some of which are sure to turn out. I also was able to track down a car load of frames which were used many years ago as windows. Got any old windows? Holler!

The Terror of Teaberry was this weekend and I scared myself out of racing. I was tempted to go and volunteer/ take photos/ heckle, but knew that if I went I wouldnt be able to resist the urge to race and am saving the legs for a rather large undertaking this week. And speaking of large undertakings, there was a scrambled voicemail from Chris Scott on my phone which I deduced had something to do with me tagging along on his 2 week voyage along the Virginia Mountain Trail. Wish I could take the time to do it, but work is just beginning to get busy. I will have to look at the itinerary and see if I can make it out for a day or two.

2011-09-21T08:50:00.000-07:00

A few more...

2011-09-20T11:30:00.000-07:00

Killer weather and full moon got me out to do some late night hiking and piture taking. Was hoping for some late night riding but the change in the weather is reminding me of injuries gone by. Hopefully my body will adjust in the next week or 2 and I will get out before things go the way of wintery. Sunday was another day out in the Frederick watershed and the first of the year out there with Tony and Andy. Tony was crushing it for being off the bike all summer with a broken ankle from a slopestyle wagon accident. Here are a few that turned out and I hope to have some more in my hands this afternoon.

Multiple exposure freight...

Full moon in the hood...

2011-09-14T11:06:00.000-07:00

A little video action courtesy of Don. Jim Potts leads out on Vandal while I follow and Don films...

Lincoln blacked out...

The Mind is a Terrible Thing to Follow

2011-09-13T09:41:00.000-07:00

These words uttered by Jim Potts sometime during Sunday's ride. I had no intention of riding with anyone at The Shed, as I woke up before dawn, snuck in a hike and breakfast at Tastee's before heading out to Frederck as the sun began to rise. I started from the bottom of Vandal and felt good on the new bike. Things have come together nicely. Cleaned Skink before heading toward Sandflats where I heard some voices in the woods. as they approached, I decided it could only be Don and sure enough he and Potts came right at me. All of us sat for minute trying to decide which way to ride and finally made our way to Iceburg where I had a PR of 3 solid dabs and one stab dab. Doesnt sound like much but, 2 of those dabs where just due to a greasy rock and losing the front tire. I cleaned all of those bits that usually give me fits. Now its just a matter of stringing all of those sections together. no big deal right? Anyway, it was good to ride with Don and Jim. I just saw Jim a couple weeks back at the North Fork, but I dont think Don and I have ridden together all year. Its always good to stay somewhat fluid and let things happen as they will. We rode down Vandal for the first time which is even better than the climb. There may or may not be pictures to follow.

Next Time...

2011-09-08T10:21:00.000-07:00

The Terror at Teaberry was supposed to be this weekend, but it is being postponed due to rain. Really? It has rained everytime I have raced at Michaux. Pat suspects the Cupcakes are getting soft, but I smell a conspiracy brewing. One that has to do with one Harlan Price being out with a partially separated shoulder (whatever that means)and a series win. Anywho, this will make Teaberry much less terrifying for me as I wont be still hobling about after "racing" 100 miles on a bike that was getting the bugs worked out while testing some new state of the art head gear. Perhaps I can go out and try riding the Ring or do the entire Massanutten ridge from town just before hand so I can properly slum at Teaberry.

So back to this hundred miler of last weekend. I was supposed to go out and ride on monday with Tim, Sue, Andrea and some others, but the rain had other plans. I drove home and slept 18 hours. Under normals circumstances, I might brave the elements for a trip along the North Fork, but I was in rough shape after the hundy and didnt want to risk breaking an ankle in the wet rocks because I was too tired to push through the roughness. And speaking of the North Fork, I was able to get up with Metro this weekend and chat about overnighting out there when the first "moderate" snow of the year comes down. Hopefully, it will be a bit less moderate than the Woodstock/ Waonazee Peak ride we did a couple years back.

After the hundred, I got a righteous massage before passing out and waking up wet due to the rain. I could have used some compression socks but was ill- prepared and only had my depression socks, made of gold velour, which gave me blisters before the first water stop...

Another problem I had was the ventilator on my helmet seemed to blocked by something and I overheated on the first climb. Next year I will make sure double check for proper air flow...

The microdrive seemed like a good idea on paper. The gear inches looked fine, but I didnt account for something called leverage. Pedal strokes felt dead and seemed to take me nowhere. On the bright side, I didnt touch my chainring once during the race.

BYOE. bring your own endurolytes. The aids stations were all out by the time I got to them. At least this one had some salty pretzels and Coke and someone had stashed some E-lytes to make the raging cramps just a quiver in the legs...

Kurt prepares for pass out while Dan gets rowdy...

The Hundred

2011-09-06T09:49:00.000-07:00

I will start off by saying, I improved my time by 3 hours and 48 minutes over last year. By this I mean I was able to spend almost 4 hours longer on the bike than last year. I know a lot of folks who can do an 8 hour ride but much fewer can do a 13 hour and 42 minute ride. Let us rewind a bit here so I can give you a few pointers for next years hundy so that you too might be able spend a very long and interesting day in the woods along the way.

I worked until 2pm on saturday and then hightailed it down to Harrisonburg in time to pick up the bike I was planning to ride, which I had never ridden before. The Navigator was going to need more than just a little love and with me rolling into the shop 15 minutes before close it wasnt going to happen. I had my new single speed with me that I had planned to joy ride on monday with Andrea but it was a new build and needed some gearing changes. Done.

Back at the campground folks were steady rolling in and I socialized with people I dont see on the weekly monthy or even yearly. It was good. In the morning, I got suited up and lined up with the big boys and girls. I felt good on the road, but for some reason, I seemed to be over heating quickly. Perhaps there was the ram air attatched to my LAS helmet was amlfunctioning. I was talking heavy trash in the heavy traffic and probably pissed off more than one rider, but it was all in fun. I made some sketchy passes, took some local lines and irritated some more people. Climbing Lynn, I noticed a very loose headset. It would seem everything had finally setted in on the new bike and wouldnt you know it, I was out of spacers. Still talking trash on the side of the trail trying to not ruin my brand new couple thousand in fresh steel, riders now laughed and mocked me for turning wrenches so early in the day. This is the same place I began losing chainring bolts last year. Kurt and Ryan passed me on the tandem, at which point I knew I was dropping way back in the field. Nothing left but to try and enjoy the ride.

At the top of Dowells I laid an eyeball on the man only known as Foghorn Leghorn hanging out so I pulled up a bit sod and joined him. Folks would come by and chat and then roll on, including some cutie who asked if we were "just kickin' it" and kicked it with us for a bit. I rolled out not long after she did after realizing I could get stuck there and got my headset properly sorted by the mechanics at the bottom. Said cutie came passed on the road and was kind enough to let me jump in (she had gears, I did not) and pulled me to Ramsey's Draft. Things got blurry and weird after that. Breaks became more frequent thinking I might get out of no-mans-land and a familiar face would come along to ride with but it never did. Most of those I knew were way ahead of me by now, including the two clowns dressed in pink on the tandem.

Weirdness in the woods...

(photo by Toshun)

It wasnt until check point 5 where I saw Carpenter and crew hanging out that I lost real time. The tandems were last seen here, every rider who rode by had the same look on their face and every interaction the same. "How much longer?" they would ask. At check point 5 I must have lost 30+ minutes and began to enjoy(?) riding alone. Not much to say after that. It was just weird. A long weird day on a bike. At check point 6, I witnessed a guy puking his brains out. Perhaps too many beers at 5? There were also rumors floating of dudes shitting their shammies. Perhaps it was food poisoning. Also one rider got medivaced out after his chainring cut his throat open after going OTB. Here's to a speedy recovery.

"Mainforce patrol. We're out of the game; unable to continue pursuit. Better send a meat truck. Charie's been hurt bad in the throat."

I mention these things because my ride was less than noteworthy. It would be like describing a long hike in the woods. This is supposed to be a race report and not a description of the sights I have seen numerous times riding out there. It was good and I am once again glad its over. Back at the camp, I overheard some trash talk about the Ring, how I wouldnt make it. I considered how far "the source" made it and then let it ride. Not sure if he was trying to be a prick or was just completely oblivious I was sitting directly next to him; actually touching him! Also, just recieved word, some chick here got a call from someone in the Burg looking for me. The weirdness continues...

Knar!

2011-08-24T10:52:00.000-07:00

On the road by dawn and headed West, I stopped for fuel and coffee (the other fuel) before turning South and making my way into the Shenendaoh Valley where I was greeted with the pungent odor of fertilizer and chicken shit. Ah, summer time in the country. I arrived in Harrisonburg at 8am, giving me enough time to get film and hit Mr. J’s for some bagel sandwiches before meeting up at 9am to pile the 5 of us into the little red wagon with bikes and drive another hour and change into WVA in search of the Knarly North Fork. I know what you thinking. “Doesn’t this violate the ever important Ride Time > or = Drive Time equation?” Technically, it does, especially if you are just talking moving time, since one probably spends as much time taking in the views as they would riding the ridge, at least from the halfway point, which is where we would starting. Anyway, I knew it would be a good day, especially seeing as Jim was rumored to be in town for the weekend.

Anyway, we got on the road late due to last minute tire discussions, lack of Stan’s secret juice and no presta adapter, but we got on the road nonetheless. No sooner did we park did the skies open up and began to think we were in for a long, cold day on some slippery rocks. Regrouping at the turn off for the single track, we all hunkered by trees already soggy. The first bits of trail contained inconspicuous off-camber rocks that were treaturus for any tread, but the rain had stopped and the came out to begin the drying process. Select rocks began to show traction, but there were still plenty of sweaty one to keep you on your toes. If you havent ridden the North Fork you should. It has a little bit of everything for everyone. sections of buff and tacky, pine needle coated chicanes break up the chunky chunder fields, and the short climbs are techy in sections with plenty of B-lines in case things are not spicy enough which I highly doubt. There are plenty choice vistas to get you hangout on, or even overnight at, which I have been itching to do since I first rode out there.

This was the first time riding the geared bike up there so I was able to climb so things I couldn’t before, but my fork wasn’t set up to my liking and felt a bit sloppy on the fast chunk. I saw some bits ridden in which I had not seen before and saw some things ridden which I don’t wish to see again. I wasn’t even the one riding and it had me spooked. Almost lost a friend down a large cravass at one point and saw a massive Stan’s slug trail on a rock. I cleaned the knarley knotch toward the end of the ridge from top to bottom for the first time and then the lot of us ripped the DH. Tacky soil where one could see the line in the needles where the previous rider had been, but we kept it pretty tight. There was a bear sighting along the way and I got in a bit over my head on a couple of manuals. Slum town on the road back to the van, a dip in the creek and then back to town for some za. I got back on the road, city bound at 10:30pm, so including hang out time, the drive to hang time ratio worked out just fine. On the photo tip, I made the rookie error of not double checking my settings. 3 rolls of blurry photos as I left it on the B setting. Panos are meh...

Since I have disappointed with the ride photo, I will share some other images that may explain why my camera was on the B setting to begin with.

Light Hearted Photos

2011-08-11T11:31:00.000-07:00

Here we are, deep in the summer duldrums, waiting for the next big change to come about, be it Fall, or something a bit sooner whatever that may be. I have been sorting through images, old and new and here are a few.

Growing up, this pipe was known as "The Duldrums"

I guess that is all for now.

2011-08-08T13:00:00.000-07:00

On Friday, a box showed up at work for me, so I rushed home after a long and not so stressful day at salt mine and scrambled to see what was inside.

There could be anything in there...

Details, details...

Details include custom stem, fork, racks with bottle mounts, and one of a kind graphics. Took it out for a spin around the Watershed and suffered some new bike blues which is to be expected, but felt righteous amounst the rocks. Dicky would have a conniption due to the uncut cables tied and flopping about. I lost a couple of bolts and called it a day early, but not before clocking some good milage, showing the locals of my top secret spring and sitting in a small swimming hole with 6 dudes. My camera took a dump on me due to humidity, heat or just being a finicky, digital, object with too many electronics. It began to work again once I got home. Grrr....

so lets talk the bike. I talked geometry at nausea with Todd at Black Cat and he talked me into trying somethings that were a bit out of my comfort zone such as a top tube that sounded much longer than anything I had previously ridden. I gotta say, the discussions paid off, and the bike felt very comfortable in the rocks. I didnt feel cramped and the short rear kept the bike from feeling slugish on the tight stuff without being to twichy. We rode down "deathmarch" with is an old double track with rollers gallore and the bike felt stable at speed yet easy to pull up and speed jump the rollers. There are a few things I need to sort out on the build, and a suspension fork will be going on, but it was great first ride on the new bike. Now I just need to get single speed fit again.

I pulled out all of the stops on the build as the parts have been accumulating for over a year now.

Wheels are I9 with brown DH spokes and Ardent rubber, the rear being a 2.25 LUST and the front a 2.4 exo set up tubeless

Easton Haven bars with XTR trail brakes(xt rotors) which are amazing

Eno cranks with custom 28t chainring for clearance. Felt a bit small on the flats but good in the crawling rock sections.

Thomson post regal-e seat with carbon rails, king ti cages and headset.

2011-08-02T10:59:00.000-07:00

So you are probably wondering why I am not on my way to Pittsburgh at the moment. Well, that trip was circling the drain for a while then on Wednesday afternoon, an hour before scheduled departure, T-watts contacted me to say that Erika took a digger on the ride home from work and was in the ER; that it would be just me and her. Hmmm, 6 days alone with any one person is enough to make me break in out in a claustrophobic fit and after already taking a week off this month for TdB, the idea just didn’t sound too appealing. It ‘s something the oldtimers call “responsibility.” Back to this idea of being holed up (no pun intended) with folks for long periods of time. This is what made the trip to Sedona so great. I usually feel the need to get away and sit by a river or go hike alone, but the folks I traveled with for 3 weeks were on my level. Nobody was running the show, it was just, “hey so and so has got ride going out, wanna go?” or “Anybody want to head out to this old ghost town?” Man, good times. Very rare that I can stomach someone for more than a couple hours, but my cat is easy going and we can spend hours together talking or not talking.

So I finally got my invoice from Todd at Black Cat and my frame is on the way. Oh, I cant wait! On the invoice there was something listed as “special surprise,” at no charge. What could it ever be? Could this be the meat cleaver that comes with the Ginzu knife set? An extra Sham-wow? A DNA test to tell me I am the father? Only time will tell. It’s gonna be a couple of nail biting, suspense filled days and sleepless nights followed up by some picture heavy posts and ride reports. What is super cool is that I have only caught glimpses of certain areas of the bike at certain stages of the process so the whole thing is going to be one big surprise.

Today, was a day off due to poor planning and expected long ride so I headed out to take some photos and do some riding out at Schaffer/ Hoyles Mill/ Black Hills and I found they had done some nice brushing out there. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I have ever seen it so nicely brushed in the years I have ridden there. Now, if they would only saw out that one tree that is at head height and is a total flow killer… The plan was to stick around town and work on saturday and make money, but I guess I got back on the books too late and it looks like a total waste of a day. Should have gone to the Wilderness 101 after all.

The rest of the weekend consisted of several hours of power on the bike, a sunday morning slumber interrupted by images of slithering serpents of all sizes. From the babies dangling from my pack straps to the head filled holes in the ground and one 51 footer (thats 31 feet longer than the biggest recorded, in my dream at least)that had its body spiraling up a tree and and snoozing up above while I crept by. That sream was immediately followed by a trip to the area with the largest concentraion of rattlers this side of the Mississippi, hoping the dream was not a premontion.

I actually did get in a respectable amount of riding this weekend considering the lack of any scheduled rides or races. One might think I am actually training for the hundred. No such luck. Worry not, I will be there, hoping to have a good time and perhaps do some heckling in the process. Also this could very well be the final weekend spent riding the ew-R so i wanted to get my fill. Anyway, I have no images at the moment so I give some that a fellow named Ralph captured at Michaux last week.

I actually look to going fast here. It must have been on the road as the only time I felt as though I was going fast on trail was on the descent down yellow Hill or whatever it is that has the double log drop that got boosted. My finest moment and not a soul to be seen.

Oh yes, the meltdown captured on digital media. Quite the opposite of the last image. I must have been so wasted that I didnt even see the camera as I always try and put on my poker face when other are looking, be it riders or camera folk.

The Cursed Remains

2011-07-25T15:10:00.000-07:00

My day started at 5:15am with the alarm sounding and me hitting the snooze button several times so my day didn’t really start until around 5:45. I jumped in the ride and headed North up I-270 toward the Mason-Dixon Line, realizing along the way that I had missed yet another legendary Saturday night as the signs were everywhere, but such is the life of this weekend warrior. There was a drunk, shirtless redneck wandering I-270 and several miles later, the troopers had a lane shut down so a tow truck could scrape a car out of the ditch after rolling a few turns. Yes, those were the days…

After several wrong turns, I found myself at the Big Flat (yes, that is the proper name) parking area for Michaux’s Curse of Dark Hollow 40 miler. Not quite sure of Dark Hollow’s curse but one thing I have learned about the Michaux Endurance Series is that it never fails to rain on race day. Poz and I discussed this on the starting line and he said he remembered to close his windows. I didn’t. We were off, and I quickly dropped to the back on the long false- flat gravel road, but not to worry. There are 40 miles of soul crushing, technical trail to follow. Back at the lot, I had seen a disturbing amount of weight weenie tires, but now that I entered the first section of chucky trail, I began to notice a refreshing number of folks changing flats. A beacon of hope, in a seemingly hopeless attempt at another race for me. In one section, I made a brazen attack on a rider, taking the line less traveled and paid the price getting off-line and taking a digger. At least I supplied some entertainment. At around mile 12, an ego deflating number of single speeders (they started a minute back) came stomping by. In that group was Buck would later become my slum partner for the day.

As we approached aid station 2, I came upon Poz who carried the torch for Tony who is out with a broken ankle. By this I don’t mean he froze his Camelbak bladder which Tony had done last year and we joked about a couple of hours prior, but broke off his derailleur cage after cutting his chain too short and shifting into the one gear he shouldn’t have. Remembering how I got stuck at aid station 2 last year, sucked in by sandwiches and social time, I was determined to get in and out with the quickness, however this year the lure of cantaloupe kept me in just long enough to see friends coming up the road and before I knew it, they were accumulating and I saw my plans go right out the window.

I played tag with those single speed guys including one Dan Atkins, Buck and Mark Elsasser as well as a few I didn’t recognize and eventually Buck and I found ourselves slumming alone. Things got hazy. I got sloppy. Buck and I shared a slice of cantaloupe rolling out of aid 3. Now we were plugged back in with the 20 milers and the suffering was visible everywhere you looked. Riders standing unable to catch their breath or walking stiff legged from the cramps. Buck and I rolled in together, just like last month at Reddish Knob. 5th place for me in Vet. There was another fellow there on flat pedals in the 20 miler. I saw him roll in on an entry level Trek and there were rumors of him riding with his rear brake unhooked. I saw something in his face when he crossed the finish line. He must have seen something out there amoungst the loam, pines and stones. A look of horror and joy that it has all come to an end. He made eyes with a familiar face a broke a slight smile, yet remained silent. Just what happened, we may never know. Perhaps he experienced the Curse. I suspect he found that dark place we all have found in the woods that keeps us coming back for more. Welcome my friend. You done good.

The lure of Aid #2...

Been digging in crates lately and found negatives before I knew I took pitures. Here are some shots of Andy throwing down in the Laurel Pits in the pre-freeride era of '89...

Lovin'

2011-07-19T09:35:00.000-07:00

Lasts weekend, I gave the bike some much needed love after the Tour. Chain and rear derailler were both tired and the front derailler didnt play well with the frame as the cage was a bit long and bottomed out on the chainstay, resulting in chain drop when pedalling in the big ring. The damaged tooth on the big ring didnt help either so, the pliers and file came out as well. Went for a little spin around Big Schloss and jammed the big ring again. I had exactly one roll of 120 film and half a roll 35mm and ended up getting excited at the sight of the new bridge and blew my wad early.

Pat makes it look easy...

The gang at the overlook...

One last Tour photo...

Sneak peak. Acid bath stylie...

Reddish Knob

2011-07-12T08:50:00.000-07:00

Ever since the Tour last year, I have been waiting to get up there and take more photos. I was pretty blown by the time I arrived and had to throw some lunch in me while I tried to capture the views and vibes of the top of the Tour but managed to get some that I like. Hopefully next year I can have a better showing on the stage and actully get some pictures of folks suffering at the top.

First ride of the year on Reddish...

Remember that rock garden at the top of Timber? Here Collin gets some on the fixed gear...

A favorite from last year...

Adventure

2011-07-12T08:36:00.000-07:00

Righteous journey...

Bikerafting Alaska's Lost Coast: Yakutat to Glacier Bay. from lacemine29 on Vimeo.

Sinking In

2011-07-11T09:55:00.000-07:00

Yes, I am still hung up on the Tour. It was good. So many good times, I am still sorting through and others are just coming to me. So much suffering, good riding, good people and hangouts. I look through my images, hoping to relive some of the week through them, but they only offer a glimpse into one brief moment of the event. It was everything compounded that made it such a great feat. One day would be enough for most but to push through day after day, waking to think, "Oh man, I have to get on that road bike and race 80 miles today, much of it on gravel, before mountain bike racing this evening," makes for a tough make up call. I gotta give Collin props, and if there was a "rockstar" award, he would have sealed the deal. This guy showed at Carp's house with a 40 of Olde English one night and was rumored to be out dancing until 3am the first night. Dude lives off hotdogs and sour patch kids and was in the top 5 all week until flats on the last day knocked him back to 11th. Tough break.

I lived to race as a youth and into my early 20s but started to get to a point where racing was taking the fun out of riding so I walked away. It took me a while to learn how to ride for fun again and I refused to go to races because I remembered how it had left me salty. Last year, some riding buddies were going to race at Michaux, and I was hesitant, but went. It was fun and pretty chill. I have done a few races here and there and have had mixed feelings. But the Tour is the one event I have been to that really puts the fun back into racing. Its all about fun and riding your ass off, for numerous days. Its fun and hard as hell. No sooner than I thought about dropping out of a stage did I start having fun again. No big money, no sponsorship deals. This year Sam Korber won the Tour de Burg and all he got was a crappy T-shirt.

Poloroid moments...

The Only Race That Matters

2011-07-08T12:56:00.000-07:00

Touted as being "The only race that matters," how could I turn down a personal invitation I recieved to go attend this year's Tour to document the action and even do a bit of riding.

Friday, 5:30 AM:

The alarm sounds and I struggle to get moving, eyes heavy and burning as I see the day's first light out my 8th story window. I brush my teeth and give the furry mister his eye medicine and a bit of quick lovin' before making my way downstairs to my truck which I had packed the previous night. My goal is to beat the morning traffic and get to Harrisonburg before the shop opens to hang some art work for First Friday.

Making good time, I stop after safely negotiating NOVA traffic to fill the tank and grab a Pepsi man can. I can see the north end of Shenandoah and Massanutten rise in front of me as I approach Front Royal and just as I turn to head South, a lone hot air balloon hangs, bringing a spot of vibrant color to the blank blue canvass above. Arriving in Harrisonburg, I pull into the shop to find not only is Kurt there, but he is tuning up the bike I will be riding on the road for the week. We sort through photos and get them hung for the night's art walk.

Friday night Prologue:

The Prologue kicks off at 6PM with the ladies leading the charge. I start somewhere in the middle and notice pretty much right away my seat is about an inch and a half too low. It would do me well to stop and sort it out, by I opt to stick it out and get passed by some 8 people on the climb. Towards the top, Kurt comes by and I stick with him to ride the ridge and much of the descentin his company. On the ridge I catch a glipse of Buck changing a flat and realize that once again the Tour de Burg is underway. Right behind Kurt and myself I was catching glimpses of Joel killing it on the fixed gear. Passing Kurt, I feel the flow of the lower sections, roosting the turns and skimming through sketchy rock gardens. To my knowledge, this is the first time there has been any kind of race down the New Trail. The trail begins to rise and the bonk gets the best of me. I slow roll for a bit until Buck comes along and I jump in to see the show of flow through the final section of woods. I stick on him off the drop and into burms where folks begin to hoot and holler. A bit of a disappointing start to my Tour, but there is a long week ahead.

His onesie matches the curtains at Little Grill...

Stage 1: Trout Pond/ Big Schloss MTB

Lots of party pace riding unless you are one of the few chasing KOM points. For me it was social hour, climbing up to the ridge where we begin the timed section. The rocky ridge rolls slightly up and down and in typical tour fashion there were a lot of flats. I lay an eyeball on Dicky trailside and wonder if he is rethinking his tire choice. Fast and rocky descent down to the store with several spots to boot over the chunkiness if you have the sak for it. Long lunch and then party time again heading for Schloss. The timed climb seemed much shorter and tolerable than last year and I reeled in several riders once the ridge went from double track to single dropping back into the woods. I drop my chain several times, wrapping around my crank arm and forcing the dismount. I get back on it and once we turned onto the Cut-Off trail, I see Chris Scott in the distance. He is my carrot and I focus on making up that gap. He dabs in one of the slow techy sections and I come by him and Dicky and then Jimmy, but I see the trail goes up so I let Chris and Jimmy go since my legs are already toast and roll in solo.

Kurtistan...

Carboloading...

Cobras in WVA...

4X the Dicky...

Stage 2: Massenutten/ Short Mountain from town. Road Bike

My first road ride in 15 years and its a hundred miles of mixed surface riding. I know its going to hurt. We ride up the gravel on the backside of Massenutten then head for Fort Valley climbing Edinburg Gap. I slum in the rear, but am able to stay in the GC and not get sagged. I slum really hard on the ride back to town with Dan, who was either slumming as hard as I or just trying not to make me feel bad. Dinner at Carp's feels like a funeral as everyone is exhausted from the big day.

Manditory lap around Court Square...

A lunchtime dip...

Le director in the midst of chaos...

Sue grinds the gravel...

This guy has party pace written all over him...

Stage 3: Camp Todd/ Chestnut, Narrowback MTB

I know this climb and know it hurts. I start off in the rear and a bit of the way up help a fellow with a broken chain. On the move again I hear some yelling up ahead and 2 of the ladies are stopped saying there are bees. I sprint through getting stung once in the ankle as a guy from Boone is half naked dancing and yelling, "Bees! They're everywhere!" Behind me, Buck also tries to run through, but comes up short falling in the vicinity of the nest. I suffer once again from body and bike issues with dropped chain and an over inflatted tire. Another bee catches me on the way down stinging me several time in the ear.

The second timed section starts with a climb up Narrowback where a naked dude was making sure people didnt cut the corner. after lunch I feel a bit better and roll the ridge pretty well. A rider in front of me offers a pass and I say I will take it on the right. I jump off the line into the brush and I find myself now racing this chick that had just offered to let me by. Ah, the ladies and their mixed signals. My "line" is closing fast as there are some trees ahead, so I am forced to earn my position and take the line forcing her off the trail and almost into a tree. A big storm hits while on the ridge. I am invigorated as lightning strikes nearby and I see James Kelly the wrong way, frantically trying to find a way off the ridge. I roll on. Lightning striks 50ft to my right with a crash but move onward. The trail is somewhat hard to see and the tire tracks washed away so there is a little guessing. At a left turn I hear "You suck, Nate," recognising Marshall's voice but unable to see any sign of him. Between wrecking that chick and the bottle rocket, I was definatly marked as the asshole for the day. Late night hangouts at JV hq.

A stranglehold on DFL...

All of the glory...

Stage 4: Reddish Knob Road

A casual ride as any up to the top with Buck, then a rowdy descent off the backside. Joel stacks is up on the ridge and I pass some 15 riders with flats coming down due to the ledgy rock that juts up toward you as you ride down. I make the left at the bottom and Chris Scott comes flying up on my left, hot into a sweeping turn. He drifts out in to the deep gravel with his right leg out and then into the grass, before finally getting it back under wraps and narrowly avoiding disaster via 25ft culvert. I flatted shortly after finishing the 80ish miles solo.

Beautiful road riding...

Locals...

Reddish Knob...

Hillandale TT: MTB

20ish minute loop including a pump track loop. The tight left hander as soon as you entered the woods claimed many a victim including GC leader Sam who had one of 3 crashes there. Feeling good until once again having chain drop issues. Dinner at Little Grill.

Brian Fawley pumptrack action...

Harlan Hillandale TT...

Final Stage: Union Spring/ Flagpole, Timber/ Wolf

With nothing to lose, and glory to gain, I let it all hang out on the climb up Union Spring making my way up to some of the faster folks finishing the second to last time section in good standing. On the second timed section, I sprint off the line to beat the slummers into the woods and as I predicted a shit show unfolded before my eyes in the rock garden standing some 200 yards into the single track. The heckling began as folks flounder frantically in attempts to stay on the pace. Maxed out, I am forced to let a couple of people pass on the early pitches but am finally able to settle into a comfortable pace. YT comes into view as I merge onto Wolf and I launch several attacks, but a dropped chain forces me to dismount. I reel him in again and spin out on a steep pitch and then drop the chain once more. On Tighlman he comes into view once again, and I can see Tony chasing me down. By the time I reach the lot YT is long gone and Tony and Collin both come by.

I know I promised big things to come for my Tour, but in reality I couldnt have had a more mediocre final standing. 27th in th GC. Next year.

Nick Waite aint no slouch...

James had a strong showing, riding the same bike all week...

Podium madness...

Culture Shock

2011-07-07T07:10:00.000-07:00

I arrived back in the DC metro area last night after a 6 day get-away to the hills of the Shenandoah Valley for the 16th annual Tour de Burg stage race. As I rolled down I-66, the traffic got more frantic and people seemed restless, like those moments on the trail where you know you can pull past another rider but the opportunity seems like an eternity to present itself. Sick of the CDs I brought, I turned on NPR to check in with the real world, and find myself grinning as I hear the Lybian rebels have taken another city, but unable able to stomach our own national politics, the CD goes back in the player for another turn. This morning I woke up after pretty much passing out as soon as I walked in the door, to find cat turds on the furnature. Pick it up and out the door to drop some film for processing. I snicker as a woman in car covered with bike racks honks at the car in front of her a millisecond after the light turns green. Every morning for the past week, I had nothing to do other than wake up, throw as many calories in the tank as possible and ride my bike as fast as possible for several hours. Today feels odd not having to spend it in the saddle, yet my mind still tells me nothing else matters. Today I have a glimpse of what was when I returned from Arizona this winter, and will probably spend much time today explaining to people that I am not stoned, just content and maybe a little tired. Photos and Tour detail to follow.

Camaro

2011-06-30T11:33:00.000-07:00

My first ride was a 1980 Camaro purchased from a neighbor down the street. That car lived a long and exciting life. On any given night, the smell of smoke would waft from open windows and a dummy may or may not be sitting in the back seat with bits of melted rubber covering the rear quarter pannels. The tell-tale burnt orange paint was on the local police radar, but they always seemed to show up a day late and a dollar short, often following, knowing nothing good was to come from the night. Knowing it was just a matter of time, the car took on a new identity wearing a fresh coat of primer grey before being laid to rest with a Viking funeral. Too many memories.

Now its Tour time! If you happen to be in the 'burg, venture out of the cyber gallery and check out some of my images in person at SBC.

B&W

2011-06-29T10:59:00.000-07:00

I dont shoot much of it, but burned up an old roll of it this weekend. I am a man of few words today.

Prepping...

2011-06-28T17:00:00.000-07:00

I havent really been doing much prep for the Tour so far as the bike has been pretty much issue free as of late. Yesterday, while out for another monday riding everything at Schaffer/ Hoyles Mill/ Blackhill, I broke a spoke on the rear wheel. With the I9s, you have to take the tire off to replace a spoke, and anyone looking at that rear tire would say it has done its time, but 5 and a half months in, I am going to see just how much I can get out of this tire. Last year, I was lucky to get a month out of one and lost count at 20 tires I had sliced the casing on. Yes, its true, I am not kind on my equipment and run my tires at rediculously low psi, but I am still hovering at right around the 150lbs mark sopping wet. So, that old Maxxis Ardent LUST that I put on in Sedona after slicing yet another Bonti 29.3 went back on and the brand new one is packed and ready in the event of catastrophic failure during the Tour.

A clean shop is a happy shop...

Look at the size of that Stans booger...

It found a new home anoungst some other oddities...

M.R. Ducks...

Black Cat

2011-06-27T09:57:00.000-07:00

I know you all have been waiting patiently for the unveiling of this creation that has been 14 months in the making, 3 months longer than I had expected. The suspense has been killing me; like a kid waiting for the sun to come up so he can open his Christmas gifts. My Christmas has come gone and come again. Here are some photos.

Some assembly required...

You are probably wondering why there are two frames pictured in that last image. Although not pictured, I have been assured my fork stem and rack look amazing. I'll let Todd tell the story...

hey y'all.

nathan, meet sean. sean, meet nathan. you guys have been unknowingly standing next to each other in line for a year.
thought you may want to start the "waiting for my black cat" support group.

got the frames back from the powder coater. they turned out beautifully. one problem. they mixed up the colors.
called the powder coaters, they acknowledged the mistake and said they will turn the corrected colors around asap.
hopefully they will stick to it. usually they've taken about a week, it is not normal for this three week turnaround business.

i'm off right now to the ups store to send them back.

shit........
todd

nathan shearer to Todd
show details 8:40 PM (3 minutes ago)

I am not so much worried about having a new bike as I just give those
who fall to the bottom of my blog roll shit. Post up already!

masternaters.blogspot.com

Cant hate on Todd. He just builds them. There is an old saying in the blue collar world: measure twice cut once. Lets just hope the guys at the paint shop are better at matching colors than they are at organizing their workload. Dont worry, Todd is good peeps and I am confident he will make sure its right before it leaves his hands. Christmas in July? I can only hope.

Late Nights

2011-06-25T07:20:00.000-07:00

Another late night at the computer sorting through images and making scanning masks. I cant even imagine the level of obsession if I had a darkroom at the house. I finally stepped away at 2:30 in the AM. Not even the lure of a rooftop hang out could pull me away. Here are some oldies I finally got up.

Note the rediculously large pants...

The short lived Friendship Park Track...

Andy throws down at Mark's trails...

Poseur...

Getting smoked in an A-Pro moto...

Scanned

2011-06-23T08:32:00.000-07:00

After kicking the can around for over a year, I ponied up and bought a scanner. Spent hours last night messing with it, sorting through film and finally scanning some images that have been on hold for far too long.

Go Skate Day

2011-06-22T08:49:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was Go Skate Day and my participation was rather pathetic. I did put a couple of footprints on the wood, but nothin noteworthy. I had dinner at Breadsoda with a couple of guys in this pic which I nicked from Spacebook. Freedom Plaza was the place to be back them. Circa '93ish...

2011-06-21T16:05:00.000-07:00

"For 4000 years, theologians and philosophers have debated whether an Intelligent Designer stands behind it all. I have nothing to contribute to that discussion. But this much seems clear: This forest certainly demonstrates an intelligence, one it has been honing for 290 million years. Its economy is a closed loop that transforms waste into food. In that alone, it is superior to our human economy, where the end of the line isnot nutrients but toxic industrial waste. Is there design behind this natural intelligence? I have no idea. But I will venture to say this: The forest knows what its doing."

-Erik Reece, "Lost Mountain"

A Midsummer Season's Slump

2011-06-21T10:07:00.000-07:00

Today, another day the alarm awakens me at 7:15am. I lay for a minute while the brain attempts to reboot. I pull the lever on the mental slot machine and the wheels begin to turn. Riding, errands, hiking. No match. I pull this imaginary lever a few more times until the wheels read “back to sleep.” And so I go. Until 1pm. What a waste. This has been the scene all too often. Perhaps that deer tick, whose head still resides in my hand gave me the Lymes. Who knows. Anyway, I got me shit together and went out to Schaffer and rode every inch of that place on both sides. actually I did miss one little stretch on the Black Hill side but it was a short section which replaced with a section that wasn’t quite as short. As usual, I dipped my feet in the lake and cleaned up a bunch of fishing line and hooks from irresponsible fisher peoples. This is a trend I have found in watery places I frequent. It bums me out.

Yesterday, played out very much the same way: wet in the morning which kept me snoozing longer than I would like and took a nice long commute to my parents’ house along the river. Dinner and conversation then back down the canal. I have been riding the canal more than I should as I am planning on riding up to Pittsburg in a month or so and I will probably be sick of it by then. Lately, I have been hunting ducks along the river. Not in the sense of carry a gun and shooting live birds, but looking for these plastic ducks which I believe were once part of the old shooting gallery at Glen Echo Park. So far I have stumbled upon two so I know they are not alone. Yesterday, I caught a firefly in the eye and tonight, I got one in the other eye and it has worked it’s way under my eyeball. gross and painful. I know what you are thinking, “Why don’t you wear glasses? “ Glasses work great for me until I start climbing. You see I climb so slow that they fog up and end up in my pocket anyway. Either way I cant see. And speaking of eyes, the little furry one is going to the doc tomorrow for his eye. Poor guy.

Off on another adventure...

Stumbled upon this lily pond where life was teeming....

Life returns...

Weapon of choice...

Duck, duck...

Goose!

Hiders in the corn...

Night ride home...

"We Took it to Swain's..."

2011-06-16T07:45:00.000-07:00

Those words uttered in a thick New England accent over a decade ago still play out loud and clear each time I pass by Swain’s Lock on the C&O Canal. Today I began a ride from there heading northbound and I thought of the night I heard that phrase which happened to be my inaugural dinking expedition on the Potomac River. “Dinking,” is the name that was given to sketchy white water boating; the tern coined as the first trip was in row boat borrowed from a friend’s girlfriend’s house which she called the dink and taken down a swollen Rock Creek after a big snow thaw. We pulled up to Seneca creek at around mid night and began to unload our equipment. We greeted a couple of fishermen who inquired what we were up on that fine evening and Phil said “We are going out boating.” Where is your boat?” one of the fishermen asked. No reply was given other than showing an aluminum case which a couple of us were carrying. “I gotta see this,” one of the fishermen said as everyone gathered around. Phil pulled the rip cord on the 3’x3’ case which blew open and inflated a 12’ long raft which had lights that lined the underside. This case was the life raft which I had aquired from an airplane boneyard which is another story.

Four of us piled in the raft with Tad floating solo in an inflatable canoe. As we paddled off, one of the fishermen shouted “Watch out for the alligator!” Whatever, alligators don’t life this far north. Tad paddled off on his own in his nimble little boat as we fired roman candles and bottle rockets at him. We paddled down stream and I could hear the roar of rapids in the distance which made me nervous as I have always had a great deal of respect for the water. As we paddled, debris floated from upstream. I noticed a large log floating quite close to our raft which seemed to somehow be floating faster than the boat we were paddling. As it floated in behind the boat, I noticed 2 eyes at the front of the 6’ log and realized there really was an alligator. “Alligator!” I yelled as I tried to light bottle rockets to fire at it. My hands shook to much and Phil jumped in and grabbed them out of my hand, managing to get one lit. It shot into the water and exploded. A couple more and the gator finally turned away.

We paddled swiftly toward the rapids knowing we would safe from the gator on the other side. I was walking that line somewhere between exctiement and panic as we approached the rapids, but the sound was decieving as we actually had to walk the boat through the shallow water to the other side. Now we were able to move at a decent pace with little effort as the current was moving and we sat back enjoying the ride. Tad complained that his boat was losing air but Phil insisted he stay with the canoe, in part because none of cared to much for the guy and also it happened to be Phil’s boat. As we floated, a group of beavers filed in behind us, but we were out of fireworks. We paddled strong to try and out run the curious creatures which could easily puncture our craft which and entered another set of rapids which put some distance between us and the beavers. My back was sore from the heavy paddling and once things calmed down a bit, I realized that it wasn’t the paddling that was making my back sore, it was the fact that a 200lb guy named Abe was sitting on it as he cowered in fear from the beavers. “Abe! What the fuck are you doing!” I shouted. It was so easy to blast the guy, phil and myself exploiting every opportunity to do so. Phil and the rest chuckled as Abe became aware of what he was doing, and sat in quiet embarrasment.

Our original plan was to leave a car at Pennyfield Lock, but on the way out to drop the car, Pete and I modified the plan a bit and took the car to Swain’s, the last get out before Great Falls. We didn’t put much thought into this other than we wanted to make a longer trip out it. We didn’t leave anything to signal us of our pull out point or anything. Moving onward, the water began to slow as did our progress. Fish began to jump and throw themselves in the boat. finally it all made sense. These creatures all came to investigate the strange lighted object that floated in the water. We floated and paddled for hours and began to worry about the falls. had we passed Swain’s Lock already? A trip over the falls would be certain death for us all. Tad had a fit at some point smashing his paddle in frustrastion on the water as the boat continued to lose air. During his tantrum he hit his knee with the paddle and was leaking blood. We pretended none of this ever happened. We worked ourselves into a panic about the falls and eventually pulled out and found ourselves in the middle of a wetland shin deep in mud. Boats were abandoned. We didn’t know where on the river we were. We struggled through the quagmire for some time and we all were low on energy as the sky began to turn purple as the first signs of morning began to show themselves. There is something about still being out as the sun come up that puts me in a panic, as if I will never sleep again if morning comes and I am still out. This feeling of doom that came with the sunrise was only deepened by the fact that I lived with my parents at the time and I felt guilt each time I was caught coming in as they began their days. Eventually, we found a path which led us to the canal and and an hours hike back to the vehicles muddied, exhausted and headed for home.

Many a turleout there...

Birds too...

The Monocacy Aquaduct has been getting some love...

2011-06-14T09:29:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was the end of my weekend so I spent it running errands and then rode over tomy parents' house for dinner. I packed a couple of cameras with, neither of which were of the digital variety so I have nothing to share on that front. As the sun began to sink low, I got antsy, said my goodbyes and headed for the river, where I found a great spot to watch the sunset. I rode some of the single track along side the river as it got dark, but the full moon, let me roll without firing up the light. I made a few stop along the way to try and get some photos, which I am eager to see how things turn out. I was shooting with the Blackbird on some expired Kodachrome 64 I picked up out west this winter.

I got forwarded a copy of this year's stage layout for the TDB and it looks like a winner. Stoked to see Schloss/ Trout Pond back on the agenda. With that stage being so early in the Tour and so much fun, I will have some making up to do if I want to wear that DFL jersey.

Fri July 1—MTB - ITT Massanutten
Sat July 2 –MTB - North Mtn-Trout Pond-Schloss
Sun July 3 – ROAD - Massanutten Mtn - Cub Run-Woodstock Tower
Mon July 4 –MTB – Camp Todd-Chestnut-Narrowback
Tue July 5 - ROAD- Reddish Knob – Todd Lake
Tue July 5 – MTB – ITT Rocktown Trails
Wed July 6 – MTB - Union-Flagpole-Timber-Wolfe (from Hone Quarry)

Also, I am lacking a road bike, so if you have a beater to lend, I would be forever grateful and would be happy to share my winnings. I say "beater road bike" because I am a beater of a road rider these days and wouldnt feel comfortable rolling on your pimped out Madone. 57-59 with 23 tires would be great. Thanks in advance.

2011-06-12T16:31:00.000-07:00

The geared bike has made me lazy, or maybe my new found laziness just goes well with the bike that has gears. Another late start and off to Frederick, once again arriving in the Watershed just in time to catch Pat and the Race Pace squad as they were wrapping up thier ride. For me, it was Skink, New Blue, Iceburg, New Burg, Pit/Viper, up Supersweet, down Deathmarch before climbing the road, cutting back over to blue, Dave's Trail, connector, Kublai Khan and up Blue taking me deep into Gambrill where I got caught up in a thunder storm. I felt right at home on the EWR, and although, I didnt have a personal best on Iceburg, all of the dabs I did have where on sections I usually clean, and owe those dabs to not maintaining as much speed as I would on the single or fixed gear. Slow steady moving with minimal food and water consumption felt good and consistant, moving the whole time rather than big outputs of energy followed by a break and then on the coals again. I will say however, it is much easier to go fast on the single as I am quite comfy slow rolling the geared machine. My plan was to do a big loop in Gambrill, but although the rain was short it did a good job of saturating the soil so I had a nice long road ride back to the vehicle. Ran into some familiar faces out there, which isnt uncommon in Shed as I have been lurking in those woods for a cool decade now, dabbling in various riding crews.

I was reading Dicky's blog and it looks as though he will be at the Tour de Burg after recieving an official invite. I can only wonder why I got no such email. Its like that time the chick I was hanging with at the time went to the country house for the holidays and all of my friends went. I wasnt invited. But this time I am going to just show up and watch the awkward expressions, as if to say, "oh hey, I didnt know you were coming." Maybe they are trying to set up a cetain rider for the DFL position I will surely be in contention for. It will be difficult to hold on to as last year's DFL, Texas Toast is rumored to be returning to defend the jersey, but there will be heavy competition from Dan Oates who should be landing in town just in time for the tour and then there is Metro from Richmond who was caught training on SDS by napping on top of Elliot's. Only time will tell.

In other news, the Tour Divide has gotten underway without me as I burned up my time and peaked early trying to complete another, equally pointless endurance ride which nobody has yet to complete in a single push. Local boy Denis Chazelle is currently in the lead for North Bound race.

Made a friend on the ride today...

Look closer...

2011-06-10T08:24:00.000-07:00

For those of you who don’t know, Thursday is the middle of my week which is why I am scarce on Saturdays. Today started off with cutting my Mom’s hairs and as the tradition goes, out to lunch afterwards. My afternoon at work fell apart so I figured I would head out in search of a swimming hole. I got off to a late start and the thought of sitting in rush hour traffic chafed me, so I hopped on the Purple People Eater and headed out to the river. The plan was to take a leasurely spin out to Great Falls in hopes of snapping some photos of the folks jumping from the cliffs. I made several stops along the way for a dip and noticed the river, which was well out of it’s banks a week ago was now back to it normal height. By the time I got out to the Billy Goat Trail, the sun had yielded way to clouds and few folks were still out and about. I watched the fire department running drills on the river then began to head back as The Gods above had begun to make some noise. On the ride home, I saw much wildlife including an eagle, several massive snapping turtles and a few beavers.

As usual, my thoughts wandered while I rode. I thought long about the movie I watched last night titled “The Last Mountain” about mountain top removal coal mining. The topic itself is quite disturbing, but what I found even more troubling is that I was one of three people in the entire theater. Ignorance is bliss I suppose. How a company with 60,000 environmental citations get off paying nothing is beyond me. I say make them pay, pass the costs on to the consumer and then perhaps we will think a bit more about where our power comes from. Hell, my AC is running nonstop as I don’t pay for utilities here. Why the heck should I conserve? On the same note of being “green,” some old hag in Toyota Pious felt the need to pull up along side me and roll the window down from her air conditioned shitbox to give me some advice on riding in the city. In so many words, I let her know that I am “greener” than her at which she floored it and sped off. Nice. It only conserves gas when you DON’T drive like an ass.

Frogger...

The Great Escape...

2011-06-09T11:52:00.000-07:00

Considered attending, but for some reason it is being held in the Wasteland known as NOVA. Now what am I going to do with my Saturday night?

Chamois Free XXC

2011-06-09T11:14:00.000-07:00

I don’t really fancy myself a “bike racer,” however I do enjoy the atmosphere and social aspect of them so I do partake every now and again. I was pretty pumped up about racing the Super- D at the HooHa this past weekend, but after I once again choked and got smoked, my excitement for the XXC grew, which Colin had talked me into. It didn’t take a whole lot of arm twisting other than telling me the course went up Caylor’s Knob and down Boone’s run; neither of which I had ridden before.

After Saturday’s Super-D a bunch of us went swimming where I clocked some extra chamois time, before changing, leaving chamois and shorts on Tim’s porch to dry while the lot of us headed out for mexican. After dinner, I did cut some hairs of local clients before heading back to camp and hang some of the JV squad. I was early to rise as I still had to register, realizing chamois and shorts still resided on Tim’s railing. Do I borrow or go without? I figured I would leave it up to chance. If Tim posted, chamois in hand, I ride padded. If not I suffer from my own mistakes. It wasn’t meant to be, so I staged up in cut-off and boxers, but I wasn’t sweating it too much. I have put in some monsterous days this year, so my taint should be callused enough to survive 35 miles.

The XXC took off following a moto lead-out and the air was once again filled with the smell of fun many refer to as “2- stroke.” I started way back in the field and watched as much of the group sprinted down the gravel road. Me worry? Heck no, as I know by now the average mountain bike racer is more motor than skill so I figured I would see many of those folks in the very near future. I picked off 2 riders as soon as we entered the woods and on the first climb up the “new trail,” realized many folks had burned some matches during the first sprint, so feeling fresh I picked off at least a dozen riders before getting up to Caylor’s which would be about as far as I would get in the group. I played leap frog with a couple folks, but was unable to really hold anyone off for the long haul. I rode with Fresh-D for a bit before he took a nasty spill in creek bed and did a bit riding with Chase climbing back up Boone’s until I bonked, took a seat and enjoyed a nice Sambazon Acai shake. Man did that hit the spot.

Nobody to be found as I sat. I started off again, granny gear up until I saw TJ at the intersection who pointed me downhill. I found my groove again in time to take the lap around the camp ground looking fresh and back up the new trail. This is the pro-XC joined our race and the 4 fastest came by me on the climb like I was standing still. Deflating. Across the ridge and down the Super-D course with a slight detour. As I crossed the ridge, medics were walking out a rider with a separated or dislocated shoulder. Funny, I felt faster and smoother after 30 miles than I did in Super-D. Riding up the final rise I yielded to a rider which happened to be Pat, who I didn’t think was going to make it. We chatted in brief as he was on the move as he has been all season. I finished right after him. After a pathetic showing at the Tour de Burg last year, the JV squad redeemed themselves with 4 podium spots including a win by Kyle, edging out perpetual fast guy Harlan Price, a 5th place by Chase and Mr. Consistency, Collin Vento took 3rd in the Super-D and the XXC. I guess that winter out west paid off. Can they keep the momentum going through this year’s Tour?

On saturday I took alot of pictures. A better way to describe it would be that I just used a lot of film. Here is what I was able to salvage.

After laying the smackdown on that 10 year old on the final lap of the short track, I think it might be time to move up to expert... but who am I to say...

Unknown rolling...

I like your style...

A nasty crash and still taking the win? I will expect to see you in expert next year...

Disappointed Collin didnt get a big novelty check for $30. This photo will have to do...

2011-06-02T07:02:00.000-07:00

Developed an old roll of film. I still really like the Holga. Colin with big moves on Buzzard's...

I like this section of the blue...

Camera whore...

I have always wanted a pair of jellies. Dont be jeally?

The Christian Science Laundry room has moved on and there was a new assortment of mugs for the taking. I scored this gem. And yes, that is a hand painted Dukes of Hazzard TV tray..

2011-06-01T09:11:00.000-07:00

Sometimes its nice to take things slow and observe what's around you. Often times I when I do this, regardless of how many times I have been down that road trail, or even thought, I will find something new. Something that has been there the whole time, tucked behind a bush or berm, long forgotten, and just waiting for the bullying blade of development to come along and put it out of its misery. For those lucky enough to discover and appreciate what once was, the sadness comes with the idea of just plowing under the old to make way for "progress." Everywhere I look, I see this happening: in the neighborhood in which I work, the suburb in which I grew up and in the woods in which I play. Unlike small villages elsewhere in the world, we seem to be obsessed with the idea of new is better. Talk to any carpenter, stone worker or machinist. Not someone who is trying to build your new McMansion, but a true craftsman. Someone who knows that hardwoods are better than laminates. Someone who knows that concrete needs to be poured quickly and that the chemicals added to keep it from setting up dramaticly shorten the lifespan of mixture.

Anyway, enough rambling about that. I took a plesant spin on monday and observed some things I never notived along a loop I have ridden at least 50 times.

A beautiful forgotten farm house...

Other structures tell of another time...

Always a good sign...

Coolin in the heat...

Mug of the day...

2011-05-30T16:23:00.000-07:00

I remember the first time I saw the video for "Gimmie All Your Lovin" on MTV, way back when the name "Music Television" actually meant they played music and I said to myself, that is what I want form live. Hot rod cars, hot chicks, rock and roll and desert living. I saw that key chain in a record store in Kentucky when I was about 12. Things have changed a bit, but evertime I see this video, it takes me right back there...

2011-05-30T15:40:00.000-07:00

The heat is on here in DC and makes me sluggish in the mornings. I woke up to a beautiful sunrise over the city, but decided to take a short nap which lasted another 4 hours. Got up threw some coffee down the hatch and drove out to go for a spin on some flowy trails today. Soft pedaling, and heavy pumping was the name of the game. I was still a bit sore from yesterday's antics, but was able get my grove back. I got my head into a space I am comfortable with and will probably just spin the legs out once or twice this week if the oppotunity presents itself. I was also able to do exploring, but failed to upload the photos before leaving the house.

Today's emotion: Relaxed

Head Games

2011-05-29T15:56:00.000-07:00

Today was the Searsucker Social in DC however this sucker is more on the anti-social tip so I headed out to the Shed for some solo training in hopes of getting my head together for next week's Super-D. Plan was to take some downhill runs (shuttle free) before getting in some miles on some undulating trails. A late wake up and slow start, but I managed to get out to Frederick by noon and ran into a familiar face when I pulled up at the yellow gate. Creampuff sounded like a good trail to get things started on so we rolled through the field hitting the doubles and into the woods. My front tire was a bit over inflatted so I had a bit of trouble holding the line at times. I finally lost the front end in a steep bit of sweaty, chunky stones and ran it out. Unfortunately, my body was out running my feet. I stumbled for some 30 or 40 feet before losing my footing and going down. Again, I managed to give my noggin a floggin', but managed to spare this helmet this time around. A possibly broken nose, bruised shoulder and other facial abrasions.

I rode back up the road, met the others and took another run, this time on Evo, which I have ridden once before. It went much better than the first but I felt like I was creeping. Once out on the road, I noticed my fork was locked out. I took the road over to Vandal(?) before climbing Trail of Tears to the ridge. As I softly pedaled, I let the thoughts wander. I had come to get my head straight for next week's event, but crashed within 5 minutes of being in the woods... on a trail called "Cream puff." Pathetic. I am in worse shape than when I started. So much for that idea. I tried not to let it get to me. The rest of the day would be a relaxing spin around the blue trail which I havent ridden in some time.

Its that kinda day...

It all happened so fast...

Look away, Im hideous...

Blood mobile...

Coulda been worse I suppose...

Made a friend while taking a dip at clear pond...

Found my place...

Lynx found his earlier in the week...

The Many Faces of James Way

2011-05-28T07:29:00.000-07:00

No, I am not talking about a street or supermarket, but something more much more personal and intimate. We are talking about a man, not just any man, but a man who seems to be living a rather tragic and tortured life; one that seems to be full of emotion and I can only assume pain. For some reason, perhaps just my own hope and desires, I see a future for this individual, so rather than wasting my time writing and your time reading about my daily state of being, I will simply choose the mugshot which most closely resembles my mood for the day.

Today's mood...

This holiday weekend anyone who is somewhat plugged into the mountain bike scene has more than enough events to satisfy even the pickiest of paletts with the Transylvania Epic, the Giro de Ville and the searsucker social all for the participating, however, I have been feeling the need to drop out of the scene for a while to do my own thing, and expand my horizons if you may.

I have been getting after it all year on the XC tip, to switch things up a bit am going to do some DH and some touring. Kind of opposite ends of the spectrum, but if you know me, I dont buy into the whole idea of "XC", "DH" or even "AM" riding. I started riding before the choice of bike became an excuse for not pedalling uphill or cutting loose going down. After all, these are limits you are putting on your own life and do nothing more than cheat you out of a good time. This weekend I plan on doing some good ole fashioned mountain biking.

Judgement Day

2011-05-22T17:39:00.000-07:00

I woke up early this morning with a start and then realized I am still here on earth. The thought that perhaps I had just woken up before having the chance to be lifted up passed through my head, so I rolled over and went back to sleep. I woke again at 10am. Shit. Looks like I had been left behind. I decided what better way to waste away than a nice lazy spin around the Watershed, with an emphesis on "lazy." Suspended, geared and button down flapping in the humid air, I stumbled upon a new meandering trail when I went to do a little pre-ride weight shaving. I also came to find that Chad, Pat and Gdowick are aslo still on earth with me, so the punishing rides wont stop. They were finishing up as I was heading out. I slow rolled, hitting some old, familiar trail and some fresh single track as well. After that was said and done, I drove by the downhill trailhead and saw some friends. I was talked into taking a run and even shuttled. Yes, if you know me and my feelings on shuttling, then you know this is proof of the world's end. I dont shuttle. It was fun. Go ahead, judge me for it. I also ate at The Don twice today. I hit some doubles blindly on a trail I had never ridden before, but I was getting a speed check from a friend so I thought my odds were good. I opted to hit a set he didnt hit. Sketchy landing. Just logs, no dirt, knife landing. I would be a bit more cautious after that. Then went to the old house to get what's mine and browsed through the latest issue of Bike Monkey over marinated olives and a pizza.

Oldie, but ripe for the judging...

Yesterday, one couldnt have asked for a more beautiful day. My later clients canceled so I went for a ride up to Great Falls. A couple of chance encounters with a cutie on pink fixed gear and several rolls of film later, the sun began to set and it was time to roll toward home. The river was furious and well out of its banks in areas. The falls were nothing more than brutal rapids and mist. I stopped by the "great escape" to see about the fisherman but the water was too high to get by. I rode up the Chain Bridge and looked over to see fisherman way out on the rocks in heavy surf casting nets and drinking beer. I failed in my attempts to capture it on film but I did get some other images. Ended the day watching "Off Road to Athens." Put me in the mood for today's slacker ride, especially after all of the mile munching I have been putting in. I have ridden the EWR on 4 rides and already worn out a chain and little ring. Kind of glad the heat is rolling in as I am about ready for some "fun hoggin'."

Reminds me of the old south...

Heavy seas...

Words to the wise...

Extravagant traveler...

2011-05-20T08:12:00.000-07:00

Currently wasting away at a coffee shop, I sit, underwhelmedwhelemed as there is so much to do and so little time to do it. I suppose I will just go through these final moments of easy living juat as I would if the End were not so near. With 5 months of torment predicted for those of us who are not chosen times will be hard. However, I just remembered that back in the desert of Arizona this winter, I recieved a message that 2011 would be my year, so things should more or less cancel things out. I will predict my next 5 months to be mediocre at the worst, so stick close by my side and I can lead you into these difficult times ahead of us. I will ask only meager donations to keep the machine running at full steam. Please inquire within.

In non-apocolyptic news, I finally gave my bikes some much needed love. The cranks on my EWR had been holding on for some time and although I replaced the rings recently, the big one had its usual big ring abuse and the little suffered a broken tooth somewhere along SDS, and if I remember correctly, Elliot's was to blame. I also heard some not so happy noises coming from the drive train on the fixed gear and noticed some rollers missing from the chain.

Haggered cranks...

Tired chain...

Carrying the mess for years...

Deep contemplation...

The scene in the laundry room...

Tonight at Fogo de Chao...

2011-05-17T12:39:00.000-07:00

Been making the rounds in the new hood and found myself in an establishment owned by a couple of friends. Upon entering, my buddy whisked me away and out a back door into a parking garage where there was a gaggle of motorized two wheelers; two of which happened to be old RD's which I at one point onwed 8 of. Dom was trying to get them running and I ended up getting my hands dirty and coming home with the stench of 2-stroke wafting behind me like Pig Pen's clound of dust, making me long for the days this was in my possesion...

Oldie But Goodie...

2011-05-16T12:17:00.000-07:00

Lost Coast Trailer from Eric Parsons on Vimeo.

2011-05-16T10:30:00.000-07:00

This weekend consisted of no riding as my knee is still recovering from SDS in hopes of being in top notch condition for something good in the weeks to come. I did however get out to Schaffer to have a looksie at the new pumptrack project that is underway there. It reinforces my theory that pumptracks are built small and tight to limit speed and often leave me with the same felling of getting in go-cart to find it has a governor on the throttle. By the time I get on my back wheel and really start pumping, I need to grab a handful of brake to make it around the 4' radius 1' high berm. Hater? No. Sometimes I am pleasantly suprized as I was with that sketchy ass track around the pool in Arizona. Great for the kids and good for folks new to using their bodies to propel themselves. I will continue finding my flow on the Hoyles Mill Connector.

2011-05-16T09:59:00.000-07:00

With just 5 days left to find my best deal for salvation, I am cashing in my chips and shopping the dooms day cults to see what last minute bargains are available. Yes, the religious zealots are out in full force for a last ditch effort to get your hard earned loot. Even the laundry room in my building has a mini-library of literature to keep your mind occupied as you wash you unmentionables. If the literature isnt enough to win you over, perhaps the hot peppers and free gym memberships win push you over the edge. I need to get the film developed.

2011-05-14T17:05:00.000-07:00

Though I dont own any black and purple Nikes, I will be commuting on the the black and purple Delta V 900 in honor of the nearing end with respect to the Heaven's Gate folk. I know, that is so 1990's but what is it gonna matter in the end anyway? I wonder if the predicted 5 months of torment will be anything like the 5 years of torment many refer to as "high school."

My fuel injected suicide machine

SDS pt 2

2011-05-11T08:24:00.002-07:00

This spring has been peppered with big rides thus far, to the point I cant remember the last time I went for a ride in the woods that lasted less than 6 hours. Not bad for a weekend warrior like myself. This past weekend was no exception with the SDS 2 day, which I feel honored to be a part of. it’s a ride with something like a 10 year wait list and each year that list contains the names of some of the fastest riders in the region. I saw a lot of Cupcake names on the list, but all ghosted. Rumblings of fear of being the weak link were overheard at Michaux last week. I think many of us have this same fear going into a ride of such magnitude, but some of us are just a bit more comfortable playing the role of “weak link.”

Late Friday morning, I left my new apartment in the city and began riding toward Silver Spring with my massive Ortlieb duffel on my back. I stopped more than a couple of times for iced lattes which was more just an excuse to get the 50lbs off my back, before meeting up with Nic O at the YMCA to catch a ride to umpteenth annual Stokesville- Douthat- Stokesville ride which takes place about 30 miles outside of Harrisonburg in the gorgeous George Washington Forest for 2 massive days of single track mountain cycling. Nic and I arrived early, lunched out at the Little Grill and then headed out to the camp ground to sneak in a quick ride on Trimble Mountain which just happens to be the best 4 miles of single track known to man.

We headed back to the campground where people continued to arrive into the wee hours of the morning. Wake up call was at 4:20AM and riding right around 5. As usual, we climbed in the dark and caught the sunrise over the ‘Burg. There is always a lot of tension amongst first timers from the emails that float around stating that “This is an adventure ride for the big kids.” Its kind of hard to lay out the goings on throughout each section of trail as so much was covered in a day that it all blends together to make a great ride. This was my first time doing it on a geared bike and it begs the question “What was I thinking?” As usual, there was lots of suffering to be had, but most did a good job of keeping under their hats. As we entered Douthat, new guy Chris Nystrom asked if this way the direct way back to the cabin as we turned off of the paved road onto the single track to climb up Beard’s Mountain. Before anyone could say anything, Kyle chimed in with a “Yep, this is the only way to get there,” which was a complete lie. At the top, Chris informed us that Roger of all people had cracked on the climb. Yes, its true folks. Roger is a mere mortal just as you and I, and I always love to see the human side of someone when they fall apart on a ride. Not from an arrogant “Im better than you” point of view, but I can empathize with the vulnerablity in them. The trail dropped onto pavement which we rode straight across into the driveway of the lodge where a hot lazogna dinner was waiting on the table for us.

Maryland, Richmond and WVA stayed down the hill where we had a gas fireplace and found no good reason to head back up the hill for social time, especially after finding out a gallon of ice cream had been smuggled in. A later start on Sunday had us climbing back up Beard’s for some fun, foggy morning meditation on the meandering trail. The group moved fast as Chris had the camera rolling, so it was keep the pace or get out of the way. On the downhill we caught the group which had left 30 minutes before us. A long section of road riding and then we came to the new SDS reroute which Jimmy claimed to be worse than Little Mare. I thought otherwise after the initial gut punch, rolling gently upward to a unique rocky ridge and then down an amazing single track bench. This could be a top notch section if it saw some more traffic. Roger tore off his derailler hanger and possibly I am the only one who can appreciate him not carrying a spare on a 150 mile ride in the backcountry as I did the same a month back on the Ring. Toward the bottom it got really chunky where Sue caught one of five flats on the day. “Its not bonus, it’s the ride,” was a phrase often heard on the weekend. Lunch awaited us at the bottom.

Elliot’s was next where I broke a chain, a chain ring tooth and my knee began to give me issue. I took some vitamin I but it didn’t do much for me. I was a little bit behind on the way up due to my mechanical and I saw Metro milling around up there. Metro? WTF? He was with the other group who were no where to be found. Come to find out, Metro decided to have a nap up on Elliot’s. Pat took a nasty digger coming off Elliot’s cutting his junk on a bar end. Ouch! Nothing to do but roll on. My rims took a beating on that downhill but the Ardent LUST tires didn’t fail me once. Im about 5 months in on the rear without issue. I am actually starting to wear the tread out before ripping the casing. LUST is a winner. Another winner was the Mountain Feedbag which folks were oggling all weekend. If you have ever ridden with me, you know I am usually mocked for my choice of machine and gear on a ride, so the interest in something I was running came as quite a surprise. The one on the right stayed topped off with a mix of sour patch kids and Cliff Blocks which are delish covered in that tangy sugar, and the one on the left contained a multi tool, random energy bar, Capri Sun (in Worm’s honor) and camera.

My knee continued to get more painful, reminding me Im no longer a spring chicken and the thought “The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak,” haunted and frustrated me, but I was going to finish the ride. What I lack in overall fitness, I make up for in stubbornness and determination, which is probably the only reason I get invited on things such as this. Mileage was 158 and some 28,000’ feet of descending. Lots of talk on the ride about the Ring and how nice it was to be spending a long day on the bike and not being beat to a pulp. But alas, the Ring still calls our names.

Some images from Pat and Mike Boyes...

Chris and Sue George...

Dan on the coals...

Carp leads the charge...

Nic going down on Little Mare...

Roger on the roll...

Climbing on the reroute...

SDS 2011

2011-05-10T08:14:00.000-07:00

Good times!

Dawn Patrol...

Dowell's Draft...

Climbing Confederate Breastworks...

The Peloton makes its way to the Southern Traverse...

After lunch, it's a nice road spin to Little Mare...

Beautiful scenery in the rolling hills...

Pretty things along the way...

Justin rolling on Little Mare...

Wet feet in Douthat...

Mike Boyes chillin'...

Bonking on Beard's...

Morning mist on day 2...

Regroup...

Pat climbing the SDS reroute...

More climbing...

One of the best views on the route...

Zack rolling off Elliot's...

teaser...

More to come...

2011-05-05T07:34:00.000-07:00

SDS prep is full effect. Only a couple of days until 2 massive days of fantastic riding with an all-star crew...

http://www.stokesville-douthat-stokesville.blogspot.com/

Looks like Poz has been paying close attention to his diet for the upcoming journey...

Pat has been doing some blogging from behind the curtain of Race Pace Bikes...

http://racepacetrek.tumblr.com/

Torturous Maximus

2011-05-03T14:46:00.000-07:00

As I move southbound on I-270, a car with the word “Serenity” airbushed next to the license plate aggressively passes me at a high rate of speed and continues forth, making risky passes on the shoulder and acceleration lanes. I cant help but laugh out loud at the irony of it all. And so is life. Once you think you have found “enlightenment” you find yourself right back under the dark cloud of confusion, disillusioned once more. My day at Michaux somewhat resembles this. I packed early and was feeling pretty fit from the big days I have been putting on the bike so far this spring. I felt confident and left plenty of time to prepare once I arrived at the Pine Grove Furnace for the Maximus this year. I have been to 3 races at Michaux so far and have found to expect 3 things at Michaux: 1) there will be more than enough good techy single track, 2) its gonna rain at some point in the day (usually in my last 10 miles) and 3) I am going to fall to pieces at some point in the day. Yes, this race would be no exception.

As I pulled in, I saw many familiar faces and got caught up being the social butterfly, which, if you have ever me, you know this is not my default. Anyway, during my rounds, my choice of machinery for this event would be closely scrutinized and commented upon. Seasoned fixed gear mountain bike racer Tomi, assured me I would have a blast out there. There was a good turn out, and I was happy to line up and see there would be no running at the start of this event. A long gravel road start would thin out the field before we turned in to the woods. Andy, the only other fixed gear at the event and I rolled out 3rd and 4th on the road and into the woods. Once in the woods, things got shaken up quite a bit. I was pushing a real man’s gear for the day (32x18) so as to whoop up on the rest of those freewheeling fools, but the question that remained in my head was “Am I man enough to push this gear for 40 loamy miles in Michaux?”

I am not too proud to walk and did my fair share on some of the early climbs to save some matches for later in the day. The downhills are where the fixed gear suffers as the leg or arms for that matter, don’t get a chance to recover. Dare I say it is even harder than the climbing? I rode with some friends like Cheryl, Roger and Sue early on and enjoyed finding some “local lines” through the corners. There was some great technical rock sections with tricky roll-overs and step-ups and the big gear felt good through it all. Then I noticed my rear tire was loosing air. I realized I had left the 15mm wrench need to remove the rear wheel in the car. The beginning of my mental collapse. As luck would have it, I saw a tent at the top of the pitch which would be the first aid station. Travis was there and we chatted. He gave me some channel locks to take with as well as another tube. Aid stations are dangerous for me as I always hang out way too long and chat with friends who are helping out, but eventually, I got moving again.

Back into the woods and more or less on my own, I found my rhythm through the rocks again. I saw a couple of riders up ahead which I always use as the proverbial carrot and focused on reeling them in. More of that typical technical rake-and-ride loamy trail that Michaux is known for. Then I dropped my chain, which wound around the rear cog and snapped. No quick links on me. Awesome. I started my hike. Several riders passed and asked if I was okay, if I needed anything. I said I needed a quick link. Then no reply. Baffling. I guess this is like the classic “How are you,” and then before I can even reply, the person who asked is already getting into how I can be of service to them. The forth guy passed just kind of grunted when I asked for a link at which point I said “What does that mean? Is that a ‘No?’” Then came Claude from Canada via Jersey who would save the day with a 10 speed link. I got rolling again and within the next 10 minutes, who would I come across on the fire road but “The Grunter,” with a flat and asking another rider directions to bailout. I couldn’t help but snicker to myself thinking this is a classic case of “Trail Karma.” I could understand not wanting to stop if you are a contender but I mean at thins point I was an easy 45 minutes off the pace.

Now I was just joy riding and spent some time chatting with Larry about trails, bikes and the like. Michaux is such a beautiful place to ride with its evergreen canopy and flowing streams. On race day you can hear the throaty rumble of the KTM moto support crew off in the distance. Rain began to fall steadily and before long the trails became creeks and quagmires with a good 2” of topsoil and loam wrapping around even the most voluminous of tires. In the last 10 miles, things slowed to a walking pace, as even the slightest of grades were too slick for tires to hook up. I dropped the chain again and “The Grunter” rolled up and asked if I needed anything. I didn’t bother wasting my breath on a reply and he asked 3 more times. I got it lined up and rolled on. Who is that up ahead on the side of the trail chatting with Larry? It’s Andy! We had ridden together until I flatted and here he was. Apparently he was having the same issues as I, unable to keep the chain on and air in the tires. I waited for a bit then he told me to roll on. I was solo now, occasionally able to lay an eyeball on a rider in front or behind. Ruth from Pittsburg and I played leapfrog for a bit and I finally came to the finish of a long day on the trails, 2 hours behind the first place single speed time of One Harlan Price. Fresh father, Chad took 2nd. In the Elite men Pat took 3rd and Jon 4th. With the Maximus behind me, I move right into SDS prep.

Weapon of choice...

Looks like trouble...

Single speeds depart...

Moto support...

Fresh and clean early on...

Pat in the pain cave...

photos snagged from Tomi and Travis

Racing

2011-04-28T11:34:00.000-07:00

It took me almost 20 years to accept the fact that I suck at it and probably always will. Its not that I dont know how to ride a bike or lack the fitness required to do well, but I lack the ambition and mental game needed to be the top dog. In a nutshell, I just dont care and realize I never did. I have always been perfectly content being "moto filler." I love running into old friends and making new ones on the trails. I used to travel all over the country to ride for 15 minutes and then one day i woke up and thought, "What the heck am I doing?" I drive all night, get all stressed out, and end up getting my butt kicked b/c I havent slept and have no money to eat, when I could be out joy riding for an entire day.

With this being said, I do have a few things on my calander this year including the Michaux races since it is 40 miles of riding on amazing trails within 2 hours of home. Fixed gear riding is the only way I can justify it. I will be at the Hundred in some form or other, this Enduro thing Ross is putting on has caught my attention. Hard tail class, Ross? I will make an appearance at Le Tour and maybe Soup-D at Hoo Ha. That is a very skepticle "maybe." Man, it looks like a lot now that I see it on plastic. Gonna have to trim that list a bit. Must make time to joy ride.

All of that being said, Michaux is going to be a barrel of monkeys...

...or just a wheel barrow full of them.

More Fotos

2011-04-28T09:59:00.000-07:00

Pat captured some nice digital images. I left my digi at brunch along with a lot of other gear I will see again for the next next suffer fest known as S-D-S. Some more discussion of this ride here...

Dawn on Jawbone...

Roll call...

The ghost of J-Mac...

Pipe shower...

One good thing about being off the pace is you get you picture taken...

Pat stopped to capture some pretty things...

Carp in the locker...

In other news, I brought home a little friend who had his black head burrowed into my arm. Deer Tick, I will never forgive you if you give me the Lyme's. Love Nate.

Summit Fever

2011-04-27T11:15:00.000-07:00

Sunday: I realized I had not heard a peep from the gang in regards to this ride in a couple of days so I could only assume I had been uninvited. I was a bit worrined at first but after making 3 drops of my own, I realized a solo bid for The Ring could be doable if it came down to it. Water, food, clothes, tubes, spare hangers, and a back up battery for the light had all been strategically placed along the route. With the recent rains and moving, I havent touched my mountain bike since our last attempt a month or so ago. Not sure if that's a good thing or not. Riding up Veach to make a water drop, the bike felt great but the forces powering it felt weak. As I sat at Jalisco's in Strausburg, my mind raced with questions of who would show up, who would succeed, fail and why. I felt confident and mentally prepared, but anyone whoi has spent a long day along the Massanutten/ Tuscarora Trail can attest, anything can and will happen up there.

I got to Camp Roosevelt and as I set up my tent in the smaller of the two flat areas with fire rings (some courteous equestrians let their steeds crap all over the other one), Mike and Jimmy pulled in with some storms in tow. Pat and Kyle pulled in as we lay dwon to sleep. Our gang of four awakened at 3am downed some grub and began our journey. I felt strong climbing up Duncan Hollow until I burped my tire bulldozing into a downhill switchback. It took me a while to get the tire reseated and then made a short detour before realizing I was on a trail blazed white. Backtrack and then the hike-a-bike up Waterfall. I shouted up for the others to push on. Regardless of my situation, I was able to keep my cool and caught up to the group on the ridge as the sun bagan to illuminate the foggy valley below. On Jawbone we came across 3 angry hunters. The obvious ring leader with his salty beard, bear claw necklace and meth fueled stare shouted, "It was a good day!" as Pat greeted him with a pleasant, "Good morning." Must be hard living when you can let someone ruin your day before most even think to hit the snooze bar.

I was feeling strong and comfortable on Jawbone and Short, casually making my way through some of the tricky bits the ridge has to offer. I was having trouble getting food and water in me, and thought this may come back to haunt me later in the day. On the climb up Short Mountain, Jimmy flatted after being pretty badly blown. I had a feeling this was the end of J-Mac. Lunch at Tasker's Gap then steady gunning up Wanazze Peak, rolled the flowy ridge to Woodstock Tower and kept moving North with the promise of water at Mudhole Gap. We all had "pipe dreams." Thoughts of sticking our heads under the pipe that carried fresh, cold water from the spring to roadside. We filled and chilled knowing the Signal Knob fire road would be rough. A slow, chunky, 45 minute grind in sun before heading west to the overlook. Pat and Kyle kept it rolling up the road while Carp and myself walked a good bit of the way.

I have only done a limited amount of riding with Carp, ut I had never seen him suffer to the extent he did on that climb. He was able to recover and keep with the group on Signal's descent, but I fell off the back. I was in bad shape. I tore off a hanger and went over the bars and over the exposed edge. It seemed like a long tumble and as I lay tangled in bike and brush, I noticed my right calf contorted and cramped. Broken tib/ fib? I grabbed my leg behind the knee and pulled toward me. The cramp subsided and I was able to move my leg fine. Left femur took a nasty hit and is possible still in one piece due to the rod Dr. Sumida put in place 7 years ago. My noggin got a floggin' and broke my helmet in the process. I remembered the story of a hiker who broke her ankle on the East Ridge and bled to death up there. I slowly got moving and made it to the lot where I was accosted by a stranger named Joe sent on behalf of one Chris Scott to assist our efforts. I was hardly in the mood to be social. Bonking, blown up, and broken biked, I shed my gear and grabbed a sandwich. The group had been there for at least 30 minutes already and was ready to head out. I barely got a sandwich and soda in me and my bike rolling before it was time to move again. My leg was protesting. Stiff and weak and started to push up Shawl Gap. The others were far ahead of me by now and I began to think of how this would pan out. I was experiencing something referred to as "summit fever" in the climbing world. The realistic thought of bivvying at Veach crossed my mind and then the clarity took over. Water would be an issue the next day, but above that, the fact that I only had shorts and a sleeveless jersey to overnight. I knew I had to bail or things would go very wrong. I shouted up to Pat to ask where his keys were and made my way back down. Never had I ridden that trail so slow.

I drove back to camp packed my things and rolled out. Delerious and mildly concussed I laughed and cryed my way through the valley. I wondered where the others were on the ridge and how they fared. I ate and drank non-stop on the drive home and somewhere along I-66 I checked my phone. There was a text from Pat. Carp bailed at Veach to ride the road back. I felt like a sack for not looking sooner. I was a good hour away. And then there were 2.

On my drive back, conflicting thoughts flowed through my mind. All I wanted for my birthday was to complete this one ride. Instead, I found a very dark place I had seeked for a long time. I have seen others find it and I have been at the threshold and pushed through. that point where you just cant go any further. The point where your spirit not just cracks, but splinters into a million little bit and the oh- so human weakness is exposed for all to see. It's humbling for sure. I have had my eye on the Tour Divide for this very pupose. I guess I dont have to waste a month on my life to get to that point.

The next day, I had an email in my box from pat saying that he and Kyle pulled the plug Milford Gap after being forced off of the ridge by an electrical strom. And so the legacy of the Ring lives on.

Foto from my Fuji Instax Mini

Tree boxin'...

Crossing the streams...

Last seen slummin' on Short...

Downhilling on Duncan...

Pat on Short...

Raspberries are out early this year...

Shell Shocked

2011-04-26T14:18:00.000-07:00

This year for my birthday, I had hoped to celebrate by completing The Ring ride around Fort Valley, but instead I found the very dark place I have looked so hard to find. You know that place where the spirit cracks and you throw your hands up and say I just cant go on, while at the same time, hanging your head in shame. I have seen many others experience this and have been at the threshold, but have been able to pull through. I will say, the spirit was willing but the flesh was weak. I guess that is what happens as you grow old. The realistic thought of continuing on and bivvying on the ridge crossed my mind and that is when I knew it was time to walk away. I had no gear to overnight and wore just shorts and a sleeveless jersey. It was a good long day in the woods which I will go into detail once the head is clear enough to sort through all of those thoughts.

2011-04-23T10:48:00.000-07:00

Happy Easter...

More Mumbling

2011-04-20T14:04:00.001-07:00

Sitting, seven years stagnant and completely oblivious to the fact. Three weeks out in the desert is enough to change any man, but I only know my experience. And of that experience only a few things seem certain, while others are just clouded interractions. Some still bounce around in the old brain pan waiting for that "ah ha" moment to arrive where those thoughts too bring some kind of brilliance or change or substance. Out in that desert, something happened. Call it a vision, a feeling, an epiphany, but I did not notice it as it all went down. I felt oddly at home amoungst the deranged desert dwellers, as I shed my scaley, city skin, learning to live life free once again. I quickly adopted their way of life and saw through the eyes of a different man. Somewhere along the road, the famed "route 66" on the way out, I left all of my crap behind. The job, the romance, the bills. Nothing left but to experience all the west had to offer. As we stopped in towns along the way, I tried to see life as the locals saw it. It was hard and sometimes I could feel their pain. Seeing anti- Government graffiti on abandoned gas stations in a town that was fueled by people passing through en route to that promised land by the sea. I understand the frustration. My reality is very different from theirs.

It has only been in these days, weeks and months since my return do I notice the effect. Taking things as they come and shying away from tension. That is, tension in the sense of trying to "force" things to go my way and just following the flow of life. I find myself reaching more for the pen than the camera. An inward transition toward deliberate thought ever so difficult to capture with the close of the shutter.
Still uncomfortable, I take pause and seek possiblilities proceeding with excitement into the unknown. This new attitude sees change as opportunity making room for new and wonderful things to enter into my life. "Half full," my glass has plenty of room for things to come and go as they may.

Happy 4/20 you hippies...

Slavation lies within...

Deep Lametations...

2011-04-19T13:50:00.000-07:00

Found on drunkcylist.com

flo Says:

April 19th, 2011 at 1:05 pm
Fuck, the main reason I ride a singlespeed is because I don’t have the coin to buy a groupo and the other shit that is required for gears. I agree, shit is overpriced. Especially when for less than the price of a new decked out mtb bike I can go pick up a new CRF450. And that fucking has an engine! Why should nice italian-made bibs with a comfy chamois run me north of $150? Why is it so damn hot here in the desert come summer time? I just don’t know. Why won’t my son just fall asleep when he’s so dang tired? Instead he just cries and fuses. I just don’t know! Why does he cry and get bent out of shape when trying to take a deuce in his diaper? Personally, I find taking a deuce to be rather comforting. Deep unanswered thoughts by Flo.

Fotos Finally

2011-04-17T19:33:00.000-07:00

Yes they are all from the fisheye which kinda bothers me, but as I have already mentioned, my primary camera has gone missing once again; this time it may be for real. Who knows, I did find my phone burried in the leaves out there after dropping it at the Jawbone lot, so I guess if for no other reason, camera retrieval will get me back out there sooner than later, however finding it on a Ring attempt would be doubtful as it would be dark, I would most likely be half asleep and already in the hurt locker. Anyway, here are the half assed images from my end.

Matt already hitting the Hammer Gel. Just the thought of eating that crap gives me stomach issues...

Chris on the move...

The sun on the rise along Jawbone...

Fueling up for Short Mountain...

Chris on the off-camber...

Lunchin' at Edinburg...

Shattered from the climb up to Signal Knob...

I was just trying to hang on for the descent...

Anyone for a little East ridge action?

The spirit rises and sets with the sun...

A cruel joke...

Next time, definately next time...

Humor for the Day

2011-04-16T14:36:00.000-07:00

Happy B-Day

2011-04-13T21:22:00.000-07:00

Dad!

"Come On Back Now Ya Hear!"

2011-04-13T20:07:00.000-07:00

2011-04-12T20:38:00.000-07:00

Well, all has been discussed at nausea at this point and the frame is officially under construction. The lines will be very similar to this bike having a 24.25 top tube, which is longer than I have been riding, but same length as the EWR I have been growing quite fond of and there will be something very custom and extremely unique going on up front. Stay tuned...

Sidelined

2011-04-12T20:13:00.000-07:00

Some of the cables running through my wrist and thumb have been highly inflamed for the past few days, so I opted to take the weekend off in hopes of not further irritating it and missing the entire spring riding season. I have already overbooked and it looks like I am going to be pulling the plug on racing the Yee-ha. So much for making my return to the DH racing scene. With SDS the week after and something big in the works for other weeks there-abouts, something has got to give. Did some poking about yesterday to find some goodies for the new living quarters with some success. Megan texted me a photo of a chair which I scooped up yesterday as well as this fine grocery getter. Contact me if you want to rent some ad space...

Another 3 wheeler, this one of the velocepede variety. Couldnt justify the purchase...

Feels appropriate...

Lurkers need to post up!

Ring Recap

2011-04-10T17:22:00.000-07:00

I am slacking big time on getting this film developed and I have no digi pics as that camera decided suicide was a better option than being stuck capturing the dreary images of my so called life, so here are some that I ran through a couple of filters which revealed some amazing bits I hadn't expected. Last week consisted of endless emails about top tube lengths, rack designs, redneck styling and the like. a rowdy single track technician ready and able to act as head sherpa on an overnight expedition. I never thought I would get sick of talking about my custom bike and exactly how I want it. The emails didn't stop there was a massive undertaking to discuss, one that has not even been completed in 3 days let alone one, which our group was going to be attempting. Talk of food and water caches, start times and weather combined with the stress of looking for a new apartment added up to one hectik week for your not so humble orator. I had trouble getting to sleep that night as I was still trying to load up on calories as I slivered down into my sleeping bag under a think comforter of stars Wednesday night. Just shy of 4AM, folks began to stir, water on the boil and bags being packed. A pair of lonely headlights made thier way up toward camp Roosevelt which could only be the one Chris Scott. Most folks had thier powerful mountain bike lighting systems which are good for about 2 hours of light, but I opted for a AA powered commuter light which doesnt pack nearly the lumens of the larger systems but lasts much longer and is far lighter. I figured we would be needing lights on the back end of the trip so this would pack nicely.

A boyscout is always prepared. Almost always. This former scout just picked up his frame last week and didn't have a chance to chase down spare derailleur hangers so I needed to be extra cautious on this journey. Everytime a rock or branch passed dangerously close, the image of a man in puffy pants came to mind...

The spare hangers I ordered had arrived at work while I was starring at the one I had sheared off on Sherman. Luckily, Scooter carries a nifty little emergency hanger that attatches to the axle and I was able to make it the next couple of miles to Veach Gap where we dropped down to meet Matt who had bailed earlier.

I was so burnt I had trouble figuring out how to get my chain sorted out. Had one not known better, they may have thought me to be on a heavy dose of psychadelics, watching me try to figure out how to untangle my chain as the coveage of grease on hands slowly crept up my forearms befor e I finally just unhooked the quicklink and ran the chain back through.

Muddied, bloodied, battered and bruised, our group called it a day, but vowed to review the information obtained on this trip to begin preparations for the next attempt...

Bath time for this cat...

The Ring Revisited

2011-04-08T19:36:00.000-07:00

Rough morning. My cassette came lose within the first 5 minutes of the ride leaving me uncertain of what else may not be settled in, putting me way off the back in the dark. I lost a camera on Duncan Hollow, took 2 dramatic spills and dealt with frozen derailleurs before most folks were even thinking of hitting the snooze bar. I re-tweaked thumb when I stuffed my front wheel in hole which has since been affecting something up in my forearm making it difficult to hold a handlebar. I spent the first several hours feeling like the weak link while I sang the new bike blues but was able to pull it together on Short mtn and those thoughts of calling it a day were pushed way back into my subconcience. Matt began to fall apart and opted to ride the road for 20 miles back from Signal Knob and met us with the car at Veach Gap as we knew there was no way of pulling out the rest in the dark. I dont know what to say really other than it was a long day on some super gnarly trails. After getting intimate with the EWR for a few hours, I got to become quite fond of it. The slack headtube and high bottom bracket made it great for rock crawling, however the fact that a 140lb weakling such as myself is able to flex out the rear end keeps me looking. Always looking for the perfect all 'rounder. Nothing like 15 hours on a bike to draw your own conclusions on how a bike fits and rides. For the six of us we only encountered a broken chain and a torn derailleur hanger. Not too shabby. The one nice thing about being off the back is that people ctach you in the photos. Here are some from Pat and Chris...

Preparations being made...

Come out swinging. Darkness on Duncan...

Miserable hike-a-bike on Waterfall...

There were a couple of rocks on Jawbone...

Pre-melt Matt...

Breakfast drop...

Melting...

All-Mountain Mike on Signal...

Buzzard's looks on...

One of 2 mechanicals the entire trip...

Mike was very sad we failed to complete the loop...

2011-04-05T09:51:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I recieved the rest of my bits to complete my new ride via courier, and just in time to make its maiden voyage a jouney to remember. I have been eyeballing the EWR for over a decade now since riding Pete Appel's at Whitetail. It seems everyone who is in the know of my recent aquisition, asks the same question. "Oh, do you know Jay DeJesus?" So I am going to tkae this opportunity to say, yes, I have met the man, but am not his boy. We travelled in the same circles and raced slalom at the same time, but I wasn't one of his ball hanging minions but any stretch. I just like the bike.

No heros for this zero...

Looks like a party...

The maiden voyage will look something kinda like this...

2011-04-04T21:43:00.000-07:00

Some fotos from the Two Tower ride a month or so ago...

Players...

Matt tore off his derailler w/in the first 5 minutes...

Road Rage...

The Re-up...

Kurt putting the new mountain hybrid to work...

Kyle climbing to Indian Grave...

Its hard to take bad picture of Kurt...

Kyle at the top of Kennedy Peak...

The Humbler

2011-04-04T15:53:00.000-07:00

So here I am, 2 days away from a monsterous undertaking in G-dub with a sketchy fixed gear contraption and a rock eating, technical terrain beast that is lacking a front end. The fork should arrive tomorrow and someone; not sure who that lucky someone is, will supposedly be bringing the caps for my hub to run the thru axle. It's out of my hands at this point. Literally. Today, I met up with some of the usual suspects to get a ride in at the Shed. I think spring has finally arrived as temps were warm and the sun gave way to evening showers and lightning. It was my 5th off-road ride on the fixed gear and with each ride comes new confidence and techniques learned. I hadn't ridden Iceburg since last fall and it was humbling to say the least. The fixie made things even more difficult and somewhat frustrating, but I was able to gain my composure and carry on. Newburg was flowing well and I heard someone say on a previous ride that the intro to it was single speed proof. Challenge accepted. Not far from riding it on "The Humbler" today so another tooth in the rear, combined with 5mm longer cranks, and the ability to ratchet pedal, I think it's 100% doable. Anyway, Supersweet was frustrating dropping, the chain, not once, not twice, but thrice on the way down. What a waste. My arms were nice and blown as they should be. Good to be riding in short sleeves again.

Riding Time is Here!

2011-04-03T14:27:00.000-07:00

Big rides abound. My calendar fills. Weighing weekends, choosing battles and it doesnt even seem that spring has arrived yet. I have until Tuesday to have this fork delivered and installed or it is going to be one long ass day on a fixed gear bike on a gnarly ridge. Why do I do this to myself? Now I am going to forced to ride 16 hours on a bike that I have never even ridden. I guess that will be plenty of time to get things settled in and draw my own conclusions of the machine, or hang my head in shame, bailing out part way through because there is just no way to carry on. I like to suffer. There is a deep rooted hatred I have for myself and I long for those dark moments on the bike. The minutes where the legs barely turn, and with every revolution, quads quiver and cramp, but the ride carries on. I try to conceal the suffering, but the sweat on the upper lip begins boiling to surface. Forearms scream and sleeves retract in a feeble attempt to prevent the imminent meltdown. So long as someone suffers worse than I, all is well, but the knowledge of being the weak link is, in and of itself, almost enough of a mental strain to take me out of the game. But pride; that little voice in the back of my head tells me not to throw in the towel yet. And after another hour, or 2, or 5, it is my time. Others begin to fade, but this old motor plugs on. The group now works as one, all of the ego has long since been destroyed. Its just more time in the saddle, and those efforts needed to take a jab at another's pride are far too expensive now. Survival mode. Just keep moving. Keep throwing calories in the tank. Keep the system hydrated and cooled. It can go on for hours and hours like this. Into the dark, folks begin to unravel, but it is wasted energy. Nothing to do but keep moving toward the destination. Ladies and gentlemen, ridin time is here!

2011-04-02T19:32:00.000-07:00

So there I was, bellied up to the bar at my favorite Napoli pizza joint and this chick next to me started chatting me up. She asked if I knew who Malcolm Gladwell was. I knew the name but couldn't put my finger on the context. She told me to google it when I got home, that I reminded her of him. Not knowing whether to be flattered or offended, I let the conversation die; especially after sizing her up in the 5 second interaction we had. Nothing there to catch my interest. Usually something would have jumped out. Hands, eyes, personality... So I finished my meal and made my rounds of the local watering holes, just to make sure i wasn't missing anything and came home to find out just who this Malcolm Gladwell charactor is. Still not sure whether to be flattered or offended.

2011-03-31T22:02:00.000-07:00

This week has been madness. All good stuff, but keeping me way busy, eventhough this has hardly been my most lucrative week at work. Apartment search, pressing for bike racks at work after a co-worker caught a guy ripping his bike at lunch time, talking bikes w/ one west coast builder, and riding around town with some new buds. Tonight I headed out on the fixed gear and got stood up; this time it was dudes doing the standing, but I wasnt going let my broken heart get in the way of a ride. I headed out on blue and yellow then ended up way over my head on Kublai Khan and was greatful for the woods dump I took earlier in the ride. Fixed gear riding takes things to an entirely new level of sketchiness, and I am in the thick of it with only 4 off-road fixie rides under my belt. Why you ask? Why the hell not. It changes the game, so that even if you have been riding the same old trail for 10 years, it becomes an entirely different beast when the ability to coast or use a rear brake has been taken away.

The Green Machine at WABA HQ...

Ground scores dont get much better than this unworn fresh mesh...

So I have been borderline obsessed with this Tour Divide thing for about 5 years now and am very close to throwing my hat in the ring and doing it. Perhaps on a fixed gear. Perhaps not. So I ordered this frame about a year ago and now we are talking fork and front rack for single track touring. Front rack only, so you can still get behind the seat and actually enjoy riding the single track, but still be able to carry your bed roll without having to use 10 toe straps to fix it to the handle bars. Anyway, I am super excited about it, and Todd also seems very interested in doing this project for me.

Wait a minute, that doesn't look like no west coast bike...

So last night, I met up with a guy to swap some bike goodies and we got to chatting and he was telling me about his ride the previous day out in NOVA. Ugh. The only time I spend in Northern Virginia is passing through to head out to the valley. Anyway, he was riding with some folks I know out in Accotink and came across a guy sitting in the woods against a tree. They thought it seemed odd and so they stopped. Then they saw the gun in his lap and hole in his forehead. Dude just offed himself. On the one hand, I can sympathize to the turmoil and seemingly endless pain and suffering life can sometime dish out, yet on the other have no love at all for the selfishness and utter disrepect shown to all affected. I find it interesting that during lunch today, the book I am currently submersed in, talked for pages and pages of suicides and it being a sort of tragic personality trait. One experienced by artists who create from this immense pain and suffering they feel, yet are not stuck in such a feeling. I need to reread that passage as it was wonderfully written and descriptive and probably something all could relate to on some level. Someone once told me suicide is permanant solution to a temporary problem. Someone else found it interesting and very odd to hear that I knew several people to take their own lives. It had never even crossed my mind that it might be somewhat abnormal to know even one. I hope to not know another.