Coyote Ugly

I should have taken James Harmon's words to heart when I asked about Coyote Hill's mtb course: BRUTAL.

Headed up early with (40-49) Root 66 series leader Brian Cantele and his wife Andi for what would be a 3+ hour drive. We dropped off Andi and her trusted Giant in the neighborhood of Walpole, VT for her (what would be) 5 hour slog to the race in 20+mph headwinds. She gets the tough (wo)man award for the day.

Arriving at the race venue, I soon realized what Brian meant by terrible accommodations. It's bascially a narrow pitched dirt road that you just park on the side of. Warming up, my legs felt like cement pistons and I was thinking that this was going to be a sufferfest. At the start, I saw some familiar faces from the previous 2 races I've done.

I'm still getting the hang of this whole mtb race thing. It seems I can't get my effort dialed in just right. My miles being primarily aerobic on the road, I suppose going anaerobic repeatedly over a nearly 2 hour period is going to take some getting used to. In essence it's a glorified cross race. Being a notoriously slow starter, the first mile or so was tailored more to my strengths. The deal was they sent you through a field that kicked up and out onto a dirt road. The dirt road nagged on for another kilometer or so at a solid 15% grade. Near the top, it shot you into some fast swoopy singletrack which provided for ample recovery. They had started us 30's with the singlespeeders and I was wishing CB2 was there for "carrotting". I got into the woods about mid-pack which is significantly better than my previous starts. I seem to get this anxiety thing through the techy stuff when someone who is better than me starts breathing down my neck. So being the (too) nice of a guy I am, I usually let them pass when it opens up. I know, I know...

After the swoopy descent, we were back to a climbin' in the form of a techy, rocky kicker that was pushing 20+% gradient. I was thinking that this was going to be a whole lot of "fun" on the ensuing laps. The singletrack after this point just got progressively more technical. I kept the usual suspects in my sights with Robbie Carmen and Kerry Robair just ahead and Craig Kennedy a few seconds further up. Kerry ended up flatting or something on a rock garden in the first lap and I had to dismount and run by him. There were several small brook crossings and myriad roots to traverse. My feelings about roots became eerily reminiscent of my feelings about rocks toward the end of hiking Mt. Washington. This course was far and away the most technical to date. I would give this course a solid 8.5/10 whereas Winsted is maybe a 6.

I picked off Robbie in the feedzone after semi-attacking in the field. (Sorry if that was against mtb etiquette, Rob.) I began to find my legs on the beginning of the 2nd lap and absolutely cooked the dirt road climb before the singletrack. I think I picked off 3-4 riders here including Craig. I hit the singletrack descent as fast as I could in order to "disappear" but keeping in mind that "I still have to go to work on Monday". It's interesting to note here how much slower the better technical riders get when they're tired. Rode the 2nd lap primarily by myself until someone was coming up hard. I didn't look back but I was thinking that it had to be a junior as the way he was railing the rocky root descents, he wasn't thinking about tomorrow. I let him pass and paced off him for another 10 minutes or so until he disappeared.

The deep mud sections were getting worse and I dismounted and ran for probably 2 minutes each of the last two laps. I started to think that a little running maybe a couple times a week would be beneficial for times like these, especially when my calves felt they were being blowtorched. My 2nd and 3rd laps were faster than my first which again is indicative of my pathetically slow starts. I felt like I was maintaining speed much better "over the roots and through the woods" and braking much less. I ended up in 6th about 7 minutes down to the winner after being (again) misinformed that I was 4th. Oh well, the elusive podium will have to wait. If only three guys ahead of me had untimely mechanicals...

All in all, it was another positive mtb race experience. I feel like my tech skills are coming along nicely particularly on a course as tough as Coyote Hill. Brian won again despite being (finally) pushed a little on the final lap. James represented well in the Pros finishing 4th. After feeling like I fought an hour and 45 min. MMA match, I sit here with battered body wondering how James did 4 laps of that course on a single speed with zero suspension. Crazy.

Giro

What an interesting Giro it's been. I like how the promoter likes to push the envelope, particularly with the stage of the strade bianche that Cadel won and today's nasty hillclimb time trial up Kronplatz. No hiding there, just straight watts per kilogram my friends. I guess I like the unpredictability of stage outcomes with the stage where 50 some odd guys got away and gapped many of the favorites by close to 15 minutes. This last week will be beyond epic. I'm getting tired just thinking of it. I can't imagine how those guys are feeling some 2+ weeks into it. I'm really rooting for Cadel or as an outside shot, Sastre. I'm still waiting for this bump in form that you usually see from him.

Tough ride tonight, 50 miles, 3700' climbing, 18 mph avg. Felt pretty strong on the climbs despite mtb race Sunday and spirited hike with Em up Mt. Alander yesterday. Creaking bottom bracket needs to be attended to asap. I'm thinking tomorrow would be a good day off, maybe I'll mow the lawn. Probably encountered the biggest douche ever in the 4 years I've been riding. Hanging out the window, I get:

"Nice tights, asshole. Do you suck his dick?" (referring to Mark who I was riding with)

It really goes beyond my commenting but I'm still some 3 hours later looking for the humor in that one. I will say that if that were my kid I'd be thoroughly embarrassed.

Old school "training" and racing...

Or shall I say, down to. I've dropped ~8# over the last 3 weeks, currently a svelter 152 and change. Definitely feeling faster on the climbs. I've started riding my CX rig with a large water bottle weighing ~.3kg about a month and a half ago. I've since graduated to a smaller bottle half-filled with sand at ~.5kg and finally about a week ago, a full bottle weighing a full kilo. To tell you the truth, I don't really know it's there, probably because I've lost more bodyweight than I've put back on the bike with "training bottle". The bike with "training bottle" and full large water bottle weighs over 22# and pedaling this thing around has without a doubt made me significantly stronger. To check my progress, I did my first real fitness test early last week on my unloaded cross bike on a nearby climb that rises ~400 ft. over one mile. I was surprised to see that I was within 3 seconds of my PR despite riding my unloaded CX bike at ~18.5# and my bw at the time was 154.5. Last year, when I set the PR, I was on my sub 14# Cervelo and my bw was 148. If my math is right, I'm producing roughly 7% more power than last year. It might actually be more than that if you factor in differences in frame performance (Giant TCX is a tad more noodly than the R3SL), drivetrain drag, and tire width (23 vs. 25). Whatever the case, I believe I'm onto something here and I highly recommend trying it, even if it means getting dropped from time to time. But hey, you've got nothing to lose: If I hang on the climbs, you get them thinking, damn, he's got a kilo of sand. Or if I happen to get dropped, well, you should drop me.

Speaking of Cervelos, I went up to Hot Tubes last Friday to pick up Black Betty. Toby did an outstanding job. Now all I need to do is buy new shifters, brakes and other miscellaneous parts. In the meantime, my buddy Brian has upgraded to a 29er so it was an opportune time to buy his Titus Racer X. The bike is multiple steps up from my Specialized Epic Comp. It weighed in at a scant 23.5# the other day with Stan's ZTR race wheels. I'm extremely happy with ride quality, as it climbs and descends like a missile. Now I just have to catch up to it. So yeah, due to some prodding from the Cycleworx crew or Cyclejerks as Brian calls us, and SS guru CB2, I've entered the world of mtb racing. I did my first race at Winding Trails (what better place I guess) as a Cat 2 and finished 2nd. Probably would have been victorious had I not entered singletrack DFL (30+ in field) and been taken out by a number of riders. Oh well, scored a nice pump and got to hang with infamous hilljunkie.

Upgraded to Cat 1 due to additional "prodding" from Brian. Would have been nice to actually win a race in Cat 2, but I guess I'd rather finish mid-pack against better competition. We headed up to Orchard Assault, with Cat 1 mtb license in hand, and no bottle holder to speak of. I believe the latter is what led to my undoing. I had one large water bottle and drank roughly 2/3 of it over a 2 hour period. It was relentless climbing with some swoopy singletrack. I think I had over 4000' over 18 miles. It was 7 laps of a 2.6 mile loop or so. I guess that's what you have to do when you only have a few acres to lay out a course. They lined all the Cat1s up together, the gun goes off and Brian was pretty much instantly gone. I am notorious for ridiculously slow starts but I managed to be middle of the pack and probably burnt too many matches in the first couple of laps on the climbs passing people. My hydration, or lack thereof, started to take its toll in the 6th lap as I resorted to having to granny this section that was probably pushing 25% gradient. My last lap was progressively worse and I got passed by 2 or 3 guys. I was glad it was over as my back felt like someone jammed a pitchfork in it. I crossed the line 9th out of nearly 30 starters. Not bad for first Cat1 race despite imploding in last 1/3 of race. Brian finished 8 minutes or so ahead of me despite numerous stops for mechanicals. James won his first Pro race while Josh rounded out the podium. On the bright side, at least I have strong riders to chase after (well for a couple of minutes anyway) in order to get faster.

Winsted Woods was yesterday. The course is literally in my backyard. I've probably done a dozen or so laps of the course over the last month so I knew the lines pretty well. Hey, due to mediocre tech skills, I need all the help I can get. Lining up, the 30-39s had I think 15 guys. Of course, going into the woods, who's in last place? Yep, me. I figured it would be a 2 hour effort so there'd be plenty of time to pick people off on the climbs. Besides, I'm down to an even svelter 151 so I'm feeling better when the grade pitches upward. (If only I could drop another 15# I'd be down in CB2 territory.) So I work my way up the field and I'm probably mid-pack when CB2 comes by halfway through 2nd lap. I gladly gave him a clear lane as to not impede his progress. The countdown was on when Brian would come steaming by and sure enough, maybe a minute or so later he came upon me. On the upper ridge of the course, he pulled me through the traffic, yelling encouragement. How he's talking at all I could not figure out. I guess when you're an anaerobic animal you don't need much O2 to supply power to the wheels. I probably picked off 4-5 guys during Brian's "tow". I crested the top of the rocky climb not far off him and I was glad to take a cup of water from the guy up there in order to rinse the vomit back down my esophagus that was slowly creeping up. I kept Brian in sight for another minute or so and then on another kicker he was gone, as he passed maybe 6 guys, including CB2. My last 2 laps were unceremonious. In retrospect (I know, I know) I probably could have ridden them harder. I caught and passed a few 19-29s and they misinformed me that I was in the lead. I rode tempo the remainder of the lap. I honestly could have done another lap if I had to which leads me to believe that I didn't go as hard as I should have. (This was definitely NOT the case at Orchard Assault.) I'm thinking that the new water bottle holder had something to do with it. I wish I had ridden harder though, as I was only 30 seconds or so from the podium. Oh well, I'll be there next year. James finished just off the podium with Josh in 7th despite numerous mechanical issues. That's a mental victory in itself. Brian blasted the 40+ field to smithereens and the venerable CB2 was victorious in the SS. Everyone came over the new house for post-race refueling. Sorry about the burnt veggie burgers, Charlie and Josh! I'd like to thank the lovely Em for cheering me on (as usual) and Kevin and Kara (with child) for their support as well.

Batten-killed

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/29621036

That's what happens when you hang out in the back of the group on a windy day. BLOWN. I'm just now recovering, almost 4 days later. Fun stuff. I've found one positive to this experience: I now know I can pretty much red line for 3+ hours.

Looking forward to Winding Trails. Pre-rode course tonight on my buddy's Titus Racer X. Nice flowy course. See y'all Sunday. Hopefully it doesn't get too wet.

Battenkill it is

I guess alot of riders out there have shrugged off the entry fee increase and have decided to give the Tour of the Battenkill another go. As of this post, there are nearly 1500 riders registered. There has been a shitstorm and a half swirling in the blogosphere ever since the entry fee increase from $45 to $75 came to light. Arguments ranged from setting a precedent for higher entry fees, promoter price gouging, and the race not being worth the money, among others.

My ego does not have a need to race every weekend through the Spring and Summer so the whole argument of ToB raising enry fees in other road races in the area does not personally affect me. (If you are a regular racer, I do not regard myself as holier than thou, so my apologies for any offenses.) Something tells me that I doubt it will happen. And if it does, I'm sure you will see it get to a point where racers don't race due to monetary reasons and you will see entry fees swing back the other way to draw racers back. As far as a promoter making money on a race, I really don't care. Honestly, where my money goes is the furthest thing from my mind. Take for example a ride like D2R2 where entry fees actually go to a worthwhile cause. Preserving open space in Franklin County was not even on my mind; I was drawn to the incredible difficulty of the route. (Just ask National Cross Champion Jonny Bold) Here it is in a nutshell: What dollar amount am I willing to pay for a ride experience? For $75, I guess it's worth rubbing elbows with a bunch of 30 somethings for 3 hours while navigating sketchy dirt roads. And I don't care if I get a t-shirt. On the other hand, I'd personally love to do something like the Mt. Washington Hillclimb but I haven't warranted dropping $350... yet, anway.

Which brings me to the topic of riding with the 30+ category. I was asked yet again by my buddy why I'm racing the 30+ when "there are so many guys stronger than you". Well, it's a good thing that I don't race my bicycle to feel good about myself. Thank God. (Just for the record, for a "non-racer" I thought I fared pretty well last year- finishing 34th out of 90 finishers. And that was doing an ITT for over 20 miles.) My buddy goes on to ask, "Why don't you just do the Cat 4 and go for the win?" Well, I guess even if I was realistically in contention, the feeling of the "big win" is too fleeting for me. So yeah, I win and then I want to duplicate that feeling again so I have to race again and then I don't win and I'm pissed or I win again and I have to race again. It never ends. Not to mention, I hate to burst your bubble but on the grand scale of cycling, we all suck. Unless of course, Lance or Alberto happen to be regular readers of this blog. Doubtful. I guess it comes down to this: Why do I ride a bike? For me, the experience and feeling of completion is satisfying enough (and why wouldn't it? ehem) and if I need to race to see the fruits of my labors then so be it. There are plenty of riders out there who are strong who never toe up to a start line. I rode with a guy the other day (61 years old and strong as an ox btw) who rides 10K a year and never pins a number to his jersey. That really struck a chord with me. The guy doesn't have to get out and do 3 hours with 4 x :20 at LT or anything like that. He just rides his freakin' bike.

All this being said, I fully intend on improving on my paltry 34th place at the overpriced ToB this year. That may require some more structured training ala Friel, but I'll try and make it enjoyable. Watch, I'll probably flat out or crash but I'm hoping I got the latter out of my system on Smuggler's Notch.

D2R2 2009- HARDEST. RIDE. EVER.

And here's why:



1. Gearing. I don't know if somewhere along the lines I thought I morphed into Jan Ullrich or something, but my 34x27 minimum quite frankly was not enough. Yeah, I made it unscathed and Patten wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be, but it honestly made the ride alot harder than it needed to be. It basically ended up being a 7.5 hour visit to a very unpleasant placed I like to call Anaerobia. I should know by now that I am a "slow-twitch freak". Somebody please punch me in the face if I show up next year without a pie plate in the back.

2. Heat. For some reason, I have this thing in my head that I actually like riding in the heat. I don't know where it came from really, but I apparently think I'm good at it. Well, I wasn't Saturday. Maybe it's because this was the summer that wasn't and I haven't had a chance to ride much in the heat but let me tell ya, by around 10am Saturday, the heat became downright oppressive. I believe I consumed/dumped on myself well over 400 oz. of water on the day.

3. Road quality (or lack thereof). I know there seemed to be some differing opinions among the riders but I believe overall that the roads were worse than last year. Also, I think that some riders thought they were the second coming of Paolo Salvodelli (got the makings of a pro peloton here) and perhaps that made already sketchy descents even sketchier. (More on this topic later.) I found myself being overly conservative on the descents and then had to drop the hammer to catch back on with people that knew where the hell they were going because as you guessed it, I neglected to bring the damn cue sheets. Though some of the roads had been recently graded, I personally am of the opinion that grading doesn't necessarily make things better. Yeah, things get levelled off nice, but you still have alot of loose stone to negotiate. The tough climbs (notably Hillman, Archambo, and Patten) were also quite dry so I was really searching for solid ground on the edge of the road for my tires to bite into. This segues nicely into:



4. Tire choice. I honestly thought I was overthinking this one going in and almost brought along the Michelin Jets I have hanging in the garage. I wish I had. I believe they would have been perfect. I had at some point put flat protection above bike handling so I was left with descending like a wuss and ascending praying that my rear tire would grab onto something. It seemed at times (notably Hillman) that approximately 1/4 of my pedal stroke would result in forward movement. So yeah, it hurt. Alot.

5. Blown Free Hub Body. Well, nearly blown. Seeing that I was rockin' the 34x27 I figured I'd get out of the saddle any chance I got to save my seated climbing muscles for the loose steep stuff later in the ride. It seemed that as the ride wore on, every time I got out of the saddle the noise got progressively louder so I stayed in the saddle from about mile 65 onward. I found myself counting down the miles from that point, praying that my wheel would stay together. Luckily it did.



We lined up at 6 but I don't believe we started until after 6:15. I didn't sleep particularly well the night before in the cornfield- two stalks jabbed me in the lower back/hip area all night. The jury is still out as to whether driving to venue morning of is the better choice. Dave, I think you had the right idea.

The pace was easy to the first stop at Heath. I actually kind of wished it was a little harder as to weed out some of the guys that were descending like idiots. It was pretty nuts. Now, I'm not the greatest descender but I'm no novice and people were ripping by me, sometimes within a couple of feet, on some hairy ass roads. I've always been one to hold my position on descents because honestly what do you have to gain on a descent anyway? All you're doing is endangering yourself and others around you. The last thing I want is a broken bike/body part in the middle of nowhere. So I noticed that Jay Gump would go to the front for each impending descent. I began to follow his lead in order to keep myself out of trouble. But sure enough, they came whizzing by and I quipped to my buddy Brian that there's probably going to be carnage. So sure enough on yet another sketchy descent this guy blows by me and ends up in the bushes, ass over tea kettle. It was like slo-mo as he came in hot into a sketchy corner and just couldn't save it. Thankfully, I wasn't part of it.

The climbing on this ride is downright brutal and remember, I actually like to climb. Perhaps I made it worse because of my gearing and tire choice, but I can tell you one thing: For all the heroes out there who think that this ride can be done with a 39x23, good luck to ya. I remember Hillman Rd. was an absoulte ass grinder and I suffered like a dog. It was particulary difficult because the dirt was loose so you had to keep your line to maintain traction. I think Dave and I were climbing at somewhere around 5.5 mph for 15 minutes and I tell you, I never had some much envy for those extra 5 teeth Dave had in the back. As we crested the climb and came out from under the trees, it was like opening the door of an oven as the sun was beating down hard on us. So as you can imagine, trying to pull oxygen out of super-heated air when you're pretty near maximum ain't much fun. Dave gave me a "Phew, that was tough" at the top. It was nice to know that I wasn't the only one suffering.

Another highlight of the ride included a rather splendid (if I don't say so myself) cleaning of Archambo Rd., which from the description, tops off ~27% grade. That, my friends, is pretty effing steep. Dave and I were in the back of the group going into the climb so we were left with following wheels and maneuvering around riders who gave up and walked the climb. I flat-out resorted to yelling at people to get out of my way (in a very tactful way, of course) as "this was my only goal for the ride this year." Probably a little dramatic but it was honestly alot easier than I thought it was going to be. I'm thinking all the mountain biking is paying off.



The herd was gradually culled with every prolonged climb and ensuing white knuckle descent. I believe we rolled into the lunch stop at Green River maybe about 8 or so deep. It was here after over 4 hours ride time that I consumed my first solid food, a pb & j on wheat and handful of peanut M&M's. I guess the heat had something to do with my lack of appetite. It was also here that I noticed my Garmin had shut off. It must have been from when I bunny-hopped one of the moon craters coming down into the stop. Seeing that I'm a metrics junkie, I was not too excited that the data for the ride was effed up. Oh well, it felt like we were going at a decent clip to this point anyway.



The 10 minute climb out of the lunch stop is a real ball buster. For me, this was the second hardest climb on the day (behind Hillman). I probably should have brought the sandwich for the road but we were all hanging out and I figured I'd just down it there and deal with the discomfort later. Not the greatest move. My stomach was churning like no other and about 1/3 of the way up I wanted to hurl. Note to self: Do not eat solid food at lunch stop next year.


Most of the rest of the ride was uneventful with the exception of my free hub body getting progressively worse and me contemplating quitting. Yeah, you heard right. I felt horrible for 30 miles following the Green River stop. I'm not sure what was going on but the combination of the heat and not being optimally geared was taking its toll. To top it off, not only was the free hub body getting louder, but it also started to slip at random when I shifted; I'm guessing that one or more of the pawls was completely shot. As the miles ticked off, I prayed that both my constitution and hub would stay together.

By the time we decided to hit the optional stop at mile 80 I was starting to get my second wind- if you can imagine that happening with nearly 6 hours in the saddle. There were only 8 in our group at this point- Tim Coleman (local and one of the fastest finishers last year), Jay Gump (another local and VERY strong Masters racer), Steve Weller (20-something Cat 1 from MA), Matt Surch (Cat 2 and DH'er from Canada), an older CCB rider on a Cervelo R3 SL (had me wishing I brought mine), Brian Cantele (Cat 1 mtber & frequent riding partner), fellow slow-twitch freak Dave Penney, and yours truly. I was the last to fill my bottles at the stop and the group took off without me leaving me to chase for about a mile or so. (There's a little more pressure to stay with the group when you don't bring cue sheets.) The pace picked up a tad from here and Brian's temperature gauge was soon approaching thermonuclear meltdown. I looked over at him and I swear his face looked purple. He said his legs were good but I'm thinking that the distance between Heath and Green River stops earlier may have put him in a bit of a dehydration hole on one of the hottest days of the year. Had I known, I would have offered him one of my large bottles. Anyway, he made the wise decision to stop in Colrain to cool off and pick up some fluids. He later hooked up with a guy that knew the way. The seven of us forged ahead.

The pace eased up along the stretch before Patten Hill and the peloton was noticeably quiet. I suppose that's what the impending pain of a mile of 20% grade will do to a group of (already) battered souls. We hit the climb and Matt ups the pace a hair and gaps Jay, Dave, Steve, and I. I normally would have been out of the saddle for the first stretch of pavement on Patten but I didn't want to press my luck with the hub. Instead, I churned away in the saddle at about 50 rpms. (That's about 5 mph for those keeping track at home.) Steve took off in pursuit of Matt. Dave and I rode tempo together and Jay was just a few meters ahead of us. The road was in decent shape and fairly hard-packed as most of the climb was shaded. I welcomed the shade and smooth road surface with open arms. As the road came out of the woods, I decided to bridge up to Jay but when I did my freakin' left hamstring cramped up something fierce. (I thought to myself, "There, you happy, Doug?") I nearly went down as I essentially pedaled with my right leg. I got out of the saddle very gingerly in order to use some different muscles and luckily it went away. I ended up cresting the climb just ahead of Jay with Steve and Matt just ahead of us.

We made our final stop at Little Big House just past the Patten summit. I wish I had taken a picture of this place. It looks like a life-sized dollhouse. Pretty cool. I'll have to get it next year. The remainder of the ride went by like a blur. It was probably a product of fatigue and pace, which picked up yet again. I nearly got blown off the back ascending South Shelburne Rd. We were now catching alot of the 100K riders. The pace kicked up again when we took the left onto Hawk's Rd. which should really be renamed Hawk's Jeep Trail. I should say it wasn't that bad but after 7 hours of riding, anything is. My feet, which had been throbbing for the last 20 miles, were now KILLING me. The descent down the other side of Hawk's was pretty nasty. I'm trying to keep the group within sight while passing a bunch of the 100K riders on marbles. By the time we hit pavement Dave and I had gotten unhitched a bit and so we worked together to latch back on. The seven of us (along with a very strong female 100K rider) soon got a nice paceline together probably averaging somewhere ~25-27 mph to the finish.

I don't have any Garmin data but ride stats were ~111 miles and ~13K of climbing. Final elapsed time for the seven of us was 8:16 according to ride organizers. I swear we left at 6:15 but they had us at 6:02 for a departure time. Whatever the case, this ended up being 4 minutes faster than last year. Factoring in the optional stop at mile 80 and a longer than last year stop at Green River I would venture to guess that actual ride time was somewhere ~7:20, pr-ing last year's effort by ~25 minutes. If not for the heat, I bet a sub-8 hr elapsed, sub-7 hr ride time would have been possible.

This was far and away the most difficult ride of my short-lived cycling career. It's not too often I think about quitting but I most certainly entertained the thought on numerous occasions on this ride. Again, I'm thankful I'm healthy enough to tackle such an epic event as D2R2 and live to tell about it, albeit a week plus late. Thanks for reading.

I would like to send out a sincere thank you to all the ride volunteers as this ride is extremely well-orgainzed. I also had the pleasure of meeting ride creator Sandy Whittlesey. D2R2 is growing and I suspect there will be even more riders next year with the ride date moving back to the 3rd week in August so as to not conflict with Mt. Washington hillclimb.

Additional side note: It was nice to finally meet the one and only solobreak. I've been a reader of his blog for some time. We talked for a while after and he had the "luxury" of riding with two national champions, Jonny Bold and Kevin Hines. I'm jealous.

Rejuvenated

After a little over 4K miles and nearly 360K ft. of climbing on the year, I was getting mentally and physically burnt. I more or less took the month of July off- well, I was doing maybe 100 miles a week- mostly of the mtb variety. Of course, the shit weather and my road steed blowing off the top of my car on the highway (more on that later) had a little to do with my mid-season break. I guess everything does happen for a reason.

But I'm feeling better now and that's all that matters. As you can see from the photo, I crossed another one off the Bucket List. Em was staying with her parents in Waterville Valley so I drove up to surprise her and took her to Kingdom Trails. All that I can say is that I really don't want to mountain bike around here anymore. The place is basically singletrack Nirvana. I'm sure that there are places out West that are better, but I believe when people say that Kingdom Trails is the best mountain biking on the East Coast. I did actually meet a guy from Durango, CO that said KT was the real deal.

I particularly enjoyed Tap and Die and the pictured Sidewinder. Sidewinder was everything it was billed to be- the first run was like Whoa! Of course I had to do it again and my 2nd run was like Yeah! Sidewinder is basically a half pipe down the side of the mountain. You just let go of the brakes and let the physics of the "pipe" bleed your speed before your next drop down the ridge. Of course, I'm a mountain bike wussy so I may have hit the brakes just a little. Ok, maybe more than a little. Em was behind me and I could have sworn I brought her to an amusement park the way she was hootin' and hollerin' all the way down. Good fun. This was basically her expression the entire 4 hours we were there:


I can honestly say I don't blame her. It was one of my most enjoyable days ever on a bike- even when Em got tired after 3 hours in the saddle and we may have bickered just a tad. Well, at least Mike from Maryland (pictured behind Em who rode with us for 2 hours) enjoyed our exchange of "pleasantries". Ah, I love ya, Em. All I can say about Kingdom Trails is that if you've never been, go, and if you're going back, give me a call; I'd love to join you.





This sucks, right?








So yeah, back to Black Betty taking a flyer off my car on Rte. 8 North. I remember it was a particularly hard group ride and I just wanted to get home. In my haste, yep, you guessed it, I forgot to STRAP DOWN THE REAR WHEEL. It was like a nightmare, really. I was on the phone with Em driving down the highway for maybe all of 2 minutes when I hear a clunk. I look in my rearview and Betty is spinning in the middle of the highway putting on a spark display that would captivate any five year old at 4th of July. I just kept saying, "Oh my God, Oh my God" over and over again until I finally yanked the car over, ran up the highway and snatched her up before she got run over to boot. It was almost like cutting yourself on your hand; You know it's bleeding and you know it's bad but you don't want to look. So Betty sat in the back of my garage for a day or so before I got up the nerve to assess the damage. Like with anything, it could have been worse, alot worse. I escaped with "only" a damaged fork, stem, handlebars, and saddle. Luckily, the frame was intact. This is unusual as heavy impacts to the fork usually result in a head tube fracture. There's only some chipping of the clear coat where the chain was driven into the BB area so it only ended up setting me back about $900. It's a good thing I'm independently wealthy. Not! Big thanks go out to Josh for the help in getting Betty back to working order.

The day after Kingdom Trails, I figured I'd take advantage of being so far North and hit the Kangamangus Highway. I originally was hoping Em would join me, but she made (what would be) a very wise decision to hang around the pool while I rode. I wasn't sure of the details of my route, but I figured on riding the Kank East to Bear Notch over to 302 West and then down Rte. 3 back to the car. I parked at the Visitor Center just off the exit and away I went. I was really surprised how cool it was up there. I'll bet it was all of 65 at the start. Once you leave Lincoln proper, the Kank gets really nice. It starts to kick up ever so slightly as you make your way up the pass. This went on for miles. The grade got progressively steeper the higher you got. The last 3.5 miles. at least according to the sign when I turned around at the summit, were 9%. My legs were feeling good despite 4 hours at KT the day before and I was hitting the climb at a good pace. There's something about these long mountain climbs that I just love. I really had no idea of the length of the climb so when I saw the sign pop up I was pleasantly surprised:




Ubiquitous summit pic. I believe from the car I gained roughly 2100' over 13 miles.

Once the climbing's done, you know what's next. I think I averaged nearly 45 mph on the descent to the flats before Bear Notch Road. Because I'm not used to descending for such long periods of time, my freakin' neck, back, and arms were starting to fatigue about 2.5 miles into it. I guess I've gotta climb more big mountains so I can work on my descending muscles. I'm OK with that.

Bear Notch is where the fun started, that is, fun in the form of wind and driving rain. It was probably about 75 degrees when I made the turn off the Kank onto Bear Notch. As I began to climb, the temperature plummeted and in came the black clouds. Wonderful. By the time I reached the crest, I was thinking a little about a thing called hypothermia as I was soaked and it was probably low 50's at this point. Talk about a great ride turning sour in a hurry. My hopes were that it would at least be warmer at the bottom where I made the turn for 302. My legs and arms were absolutely frozen and it was at this time that I was at least thankful that Em wasn't with me. That would have been really swell. The rain let up as I descended and by the time I made the turn onto 302, the sun was back out. Weird. I guess that's the mountains for ya.

Heading West on 302 proved to be no picnic. It was long exposed roadway with 20+ mph winds right in my grill for oh, about 27 miles. I had all I could do to hold 18 mph on the flats. It kinda sucked. At least the wind dried me out. The only good thing was the climb up Crawford Notch past the two cascades and the double chocolate muffin I inhaled at a store in Bretton Woods.

Looking back down Crawford Notch. Pretty.






Rte. 3 was pretty much the same story with long exposed road and driving wind in my face. Things got interesting when Rte. 3 ran right into 93 at Franconia Notch thus relegating me to a bike path for about 10-15 miles. (No bikes allowed on 93) The bike path was a pleasant change though as it got me out of the damn wind. The path meandered back and forth under 93 through Franconia Notch and the scenery was quite extraordinary. I was getting tired at this point and not really knowing how much farther I had back to my car was starting to wear on me mentally. I finally ended up picking up Rte. 3 again at the Flume State Park and flew back to the Visitor's center in Lincoln. It felt like I rode 115 but I ended up with 80 miles, 6300', 4:25 ride time. Not bad considering Mother Nature wasn't of much help.

Looking forward to D2R2 again this coming Saturday. I'm feeling very fit. I've been doing some VO max intervals over the last 4 weeks and a couple sub-5 hr centuries without burying myself so I'm way more confident going into D2R2 this year than last. I've also (finally) dropped 7 pounds so I'm hoping that'll help get my ass up Patten Hill. We shall see. It should be a blast.