tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30679110579729642532023-11-16T01:09:09.916-05:00Just JoelThe musings, rants, ideas, stories, & misadventures of one man in the LowCountry...LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.comBlogger70125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-43174990144437741962014-11-24T17:40:00.000-05:002015-10-22T11:53:36.236-04:00Cranksgiving 2014 ~and then there were only 2~<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So a tradition that started a few years back was to have everyone go up to Paris mountain and camp out and race/ride/party at the Cranksgiving endure/superD race which goes on all weekend. It is a nonstop plethora of activities in the Greenville area starting with an alley cat race in the heart of downtown Greenville. Our first year, we tried to do it all and missed the start of the alley cat by about 20 minutes, but hung out for the free beer. We also swept all categories that year with full representation from Charleston thanks to Palmetto Brewing's Christopher Winn setting us up and making us look good. The weather was fantastic and the camping was incredible since everyone had a set plan to cook something and or help out. Lots of participation makes for a great event. We all raged throughout the night, drank lots of tasty beers and raced on incredibly perfect track conditions. The second year started and end up roughly. We all had a commitment as well as the privilege to attend Chris Winn's wedding and hang out at the reception for a bit, so we skipped the alley cat race that year and hung out in Charleston until late that evening instead. After an incredibly beautiful event, we then raced out to Greenville to our awaiting tents which were previously setup by Spencer and Adam who were coming out from NC. We were late getting there and tired, but it didn't matter, the weekend was about to start and we were ready to have some fun. Sleep came and went and we started out into the super D. My practice laps went by smoothly and I was set to take podium again until some slow person in front of me during my one qualifier would not move over in time. I lost several seconds "being nice" and resulted in a 5th place scoring. I was clearly upset, but it didn't matter, I would just work harder the next day for the enduro. Well...that didn't happen either since the weather dropped madly during the night while we were at the bonfire sending everyone scurrying to their tents for warmth. Needless to say, everyone was absolutely exhausted the next morning from fighting the 20 degree temps all night to wake up to 35 degree chills. I was ready to get moving and racing, but found a group of mutineers on my hands and everyone was aching to depart, so we did leave with everyone also catching a flu shortly afterwards..and thus ended our second year at Cranksgiving. <br />
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Now into our third year and I actually have an enduro bike setup to ride up there and everyone bails except for Spencer Thomasson. So we make plans to head up and race it regardless. I am excited since I had just received this Yeti from a guy selling it on PinkBike and it is an amazing bike. I hastily built it up with a set of temporary cranks ready to descend ever faster down the mountain this year thanks to longer travel suspension. Since it is only 2 of us, I reserve a cheap hotel room and we meet up there with me arriving earlier that day and working from my hotel room until later when Spencer arrives. My bike is as tuned as I can make it and I know there will be tweaks to it throughout the day since I have yet to really tune the suspension to my body weight and varying conditions. It's actually kind of nice to just focus on the bike for once and simply get ready for a day of racing, but I truly did miss the camping and camaraderie of friends from the years past at this event. Our first day of racing finds Mike Pierce hanging out handling sweep and miscellaneous support for the event. <br />
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It is a new venue to us and we have never pedaled down it before. We also get to hang out with the founder and current owner of Endless Bikes, Shanna Powell, who is racing as well. Seems the same groups of fun people are catching the endure bug. It doesn't surprise me, I love the format! I have been visualizing this since I saw the movie Klunkerz. Climbing has never been and will never be my strongest suit since I am just not acclimated to going up every day. To me, I just really want to push my bike up the mountain and race it down. Thus the enduro and super D format. Super D(on a real trail) is a bit more extreme in terms of the downhill aspect with Enduro allowing one to gain time across flats, minor climbs, excel at the rock gardens as well as go down the mountain faster than your rivals. It's testing your skill behind the handlebars and thats one thing I usually do very well. So after getting our morning group meeting out of the way, we head out and up for our first non-timed climb to the start point. I notice I am working way harder than normal and chalk it up to riding with big travel suspension. We get to the top, race our first lap down on new terrain and there is way more uphill flat expansions than I anticipated. The downhill is short and choppy and not very challenging. I struggle to pedal across the flat sections feeling like I am working triple time. I finish my run exhausted and surprised that something is wrong with me, never once placing blame on the bike. I mainly think it is because of the 300 miles I did on the 60 lb Krampus last week in Florida, but that was a soft pedaled stretch. As we pedal up again for our Super D(which is a joke for cranksgiving) run on the same crap course, my chain comes off. Big Red Flag! I slide it back on and think while pedaling what could have happened. I blame it on the flimsy 9mm QR on the back thru axle knowing I have the 12mm conversion kit coming in the mail to solve the issue. Then I blame it on the suspension being too slack. I am stumped. I take my Super D run and slog through it losing major time whenever I have to cross a flat section. The bike SCREAMS on the downhill absorbing each and every mistake I make and letting me flow, but when I start pedaling it across something tricky, it is like the cranks are sticking...sticking...thats it. the temporary cranks. Hmm, upon finishing up my SuperD run, I make a mental note to check my cranks and then quickly forget it the moment a free beer is handed to me. Go figure. We then proceed out to dinner and the bonfire and get to witness some madman jump the 20 foot high bonfire on a 20" bmx bike by bunnyhopping off a slightly inverted rickety wooden picnic table. I could not believe he made it after his first botched attempt nearly had him laid out in the fire itself. Some people are just born a little crazier than others I suppose. <br />
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After a great night hanging out, we proceed back to get some rest and the morning comes insanely fast. Breakfast down the road and off we go to day 2 of Cranksgiving 2014 at Paris mountain venue this time. I am pumped since I know this area and have mostly memorized the run. As we start pedaling up, my chain drops again. I cuss and roll it back on again getting puzzled looks by Spencer since he notices I have a full MRP chain guide on and I am dropping my chain soft pedaling upwards. I mention to him that I have no clue why it is dropping when it happens again. This time I force it on and start getting pissed and concerned. If this happens during my run, I could get hurt. As I sit there pedaling, I feel a weird pressure on my feet and notice that my chainring is moving in a weird motion. At first I think it is a bent chainring, but immediately thereafter, I realize that my cranks are loose to the point of falling off! I stop and yell to Spencer to take a look and he stares wide-eyed at how loose they are. Fortunately, my Crank Bros multitool saves the day and I torque them back on, and then notice the amount of friction my cranks have on them. Seems I did not give them the spin test after installing them on at home. I have solved the reason why I am having such a hard time pedaling this beast! Surprisingly, I can now pedal much more efficiently regardless of the crank friction, and know I need to resolve this after todays race. I make it up the hill much quicker and take my first run. The downhill run is fast, cold and furious and I charge it feeling very comfortable on the bike finally. I am feeling good and thought I put in a good time, but it seems there are much faster riders here today all racing on XC bikes which seem to handle the up and across much better. So, I take my mid pack finish for the day and enjoy the great weather and friends for the weekend. Spencer, on the other hand, crushed it both days as he brought out his TallBoy XC bike and dominated both the Endure and XC events for his division! Awesome day, awesome weekend, and once again lesson learned to totally test out your equipment before heading out the door.<br />
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<br />LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-62468186652774836392014-11-18T15:32:00.000-05:002014-12-31T15:32:59.309-05:00CFITT 2014 ~Pedaling Florida Coast to Coast~ Day 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Waking up refreshed and ready to tackle the day during a long bike trip while camping in cold weather is truly a pleasant experience. 6am and I was up, breaking down my tent and sleeping gear. If I had my cooking kit, I would have had some piping hot coffee rolling, but I neglected to bring that gear along as I had expected to pedal through the night. By first light, I was fully packed and ready to roll. After searching for a water pump, I gave up and we all headed out to Old 88. At this point, I was truly happy I made the decision to stop and camp as there are not words to describe just how beautiful those woods were. The sun was sliced up into a million points of light and delicately laced the single track with enough light to make it seem like there was a velvet carpet laid out for us to follow. Maybe it was the caffeinated gum or the fantastic nights sleep, regardless, I was living and loving the moment I was in. It was cool to share this experience with others as Tony and SkiJi were pedaling along this amazing stretch with me as well. I don't exactly recall how it happened, but I kept pedaling on with a surge of renewed energy and soon dropped Tony & SkiJi. I believe SkiJi was experiencing more problems with a bum knee and he did not want to hold up the pack, but I really don't know whether Tony was ahead or behind us...either way, I ended up at Old 88 (CP4) store alone. <br />
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I arrived there as soon as the girl working there was opening up the door. I purchased some fresh GPS batteries, as well as a honeybun and strawberry milk, the breakfast of champions. The place itself looked like a general store/bar. It also looked like there had been a party last night. As I sat there taking my checkpoint picture, I wondered where the others were. I finished my breakfast, enjoy the sun peeking out through the trees, and am surprised by SkiJi soft pedaling upon approach! He takes this checkpoint photo, and we both discuss the absence of Tony who we assume to be ahead of both of us. SkiJi shows me his makeshift knee gasket and he tells me how it feels way better now that there is a bit more support on it. Happy to know he is riding strong, I mount my beast of a ride and roll off to the next checkpoint. Miles of beautiful single track went by and some of it was very rough around the edges with some bushwhacking involved to find my way through. I kept thinking about what a pain in the ass this would have been in the middle of the night with no prior knowledge of the area. At some point along this route, I popped a spoke in my rear wheel which caused a slowdown to repair and re-tension all of my spokes. After about 10 minutes, all was well and I was cruising along again at top speed. Somewhere shortly after getting my stride again, I was crossing a paved road and entered yet another pristine sliver of single track and had my first encounter with a permanent resident of the area, a bear! There up ahead of me no more than 50 feet, a huge black bear was strolling along the same single track and taking up the entire width! This black bear was massive! His shoulders appeared as tall as mine, not even wanting to imagine it standing on its rear legs! It seemed like he was oblivious to me and I was very happy about this fact, but one thing was for certain, I had to continue on this path, else, I would have to back pedal to the road and think of a new way around. Then I remember Alice Thomasson mentioning something on Facebook about bells and bears and noise. So thats when I started ringing my bike bell. I rang the hell outta that bell! Sure enough, that bear jumped like it had just heard a shotgun go off. It tore off through the woods so hard and so fast, I knew if it wanted to chased me down, I would not have stood a chance in the short run. Amazed and terrified at the amount of power and speed displayed by this animal, I backtracked to the edge of the road for about 5 minutes to allow the bear to have ample time to get good and lost. Afterwards, I proceeded forward into the single track very wary, and tense, all the while ringing my bell. I made it about a few more miles into the woods and started relaxing again, but also ringing my bell any time a blind corner or heavily shrouded area approached. Fear and determination to finish the route drove me forward for the next few hours. <br />
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20 miles later, I was basking on the Ocklawaha bridge (CP5) taking selfies, bike leans, reading up on the bridge project and just enjoying the moment I was given appreciatively. I then entered another fantastic well groomed section of single track, Marshall Swamp. I really enjoyed the flow of this section and will most likely return to explore this area in the future. For some reason, I got lost in all the moments that had happened recently and took a detour looking for a restock station on the way to Santos. This detour took me 2 miles out of my route. I sat there oblivious to time and space eating a reheated gas station chicken sandwich perusing my Facebook posts all cheering me on and tracking my whereabouts. Kevin Heniford of Myrtle Beach was posting live update links quite regularly on his Facebook page for everyone to follow and it was really cool to see the support my friends displayed! At this point, my bubble was popped when I received a text from Patrick saying something like "what the hell are you doing man? Get back on course! Finish this thing!" It was a total reality check and I needed it. I grabbed my stuff and took off spinning away 2 more miles to make up for lost time. As I approached the bike shop entering Santos, I came across Tony Buchman who had just pulled up. He was eating and looked strong and ready to continue, but he urged me to wait with him for SkiJi to ensure that his knee had not stalled him entirely. I told him I was rallying to move ahead and that I would see them again shortly, but then I stopped and listened to the voice urging me to maintain my strength and composure as well as support my new found friends. I ended up waiting, hoping it would not be a drawn out sit, but within a few minutes, here comes SkiJi smiling all the way! <br />
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So awesome to see! His wife was there to show support as well as ride through Santos with him too. I was pumped that everyone was doing well and we set off into the Santos trail system at full speed. It is an understatement to say I know this trail well. I had this trail so memorized, I knew when to get up out of the saddle for roots, when to fold in my elbows through narrow trees as well as what lay ahead around curves. Years of 12 hour races through some of these trails had my senses honed perfectly. It is amazing how muscle memory is retained for certain areas. Needless to say, I went out too hard from speeding through and suffered a major bonk as we neared land bridge. Tony caught up and we pedaled together back and forth for the next 20 miles through all kinds of crazy single track. Cana Diggins, Nayls, Ern & Burn, Tricycle...so much fun, so much work to keep up the pace and really enjoy these trails left me exhausted and spent. The next few miles were relentless gravel roads alternating between loose pack gravel to knee deep sugar sand. I hoped the Krampus would shine here, but only by maintaining a steady and strong cadence could one swim through this quagmire. I had neither strength nor steadiness. I walked lots, moaned and groaned knowing I was on the other side of bonksville and only a real meal would save me, not bike food sugars. We then exited promptly to a paved road. Not knowing if there were more gnarly trails like this close to the end, I kept my pace neutral and Tony did the same. We pedaled through tons of small neighborhood connectors, stopped one last time at a small gas station minutes before it was to close hoping SkiJi would catch up. Coconut juice, gatorade, chips and a red bull...not a great combination as I would find out later. We started getting chilled, so we set off adding another lone rider to our pack and we all rolled along silently. My energy levels were at peak, so I set the pace and we were moving along rapidly to the near end where I bonked once again and for good as the road to the Gulf was another 6 miles of paved drudgery. I was a mere shell at this point and simply crept along unconsciously keeping pace with everyone else. Patrick joined us for the final ride down to the front wheel dip. He knew by my face that I was crushed. I took my final checkpoint picture, elated with the fact that I had completed yet another incredible journey in a year full of amazing rides. As we were returning towards the car, the adrenaline surge which propelled me to the end, left my body and my head went spinning and my fluids were unloaded to the side of the trail. I gave the thumbs up that all was ok all while losing the vile red bull and a host of other fluids I had forced into my system. I felt momentarily better, caught back up to the others and shortly afterwards loaded up my stuff in Patrick's truck and we were off to our hotel for a well deserved shower and nights sleep. Before leaving, we waited a few more minutes for SkiJi to roll through as Tony had confirmation that he was enroute. He rolled past us to the 6 mile final grind as we cheered him on! What a crazy, fun, insane, incredible experience! Can't wait till next year!<br />
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<a href="http://ridewithgps.com/trips/3788757" target="_blank">CFITT Track Day 2</a><br />
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<br />LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-1283195047078846902014-11-17T19:03:00.000-05:002014-12-27T13:18:28.815-05:00CFITT 2014 ~Pedaling Florida Coast to Coast~ Day 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Months raced by like minutes and October turned into November in the blink of an eye. Still digesting loads of Halloween candy with my body still recovering from the previous few months worth of riding adventures, I had very little motivation to pull myself back together and once again ride my bike long distance anywhere. I had just recently finished a mini bike-packing trip through the Palmetto Trail and knew that my bike and gear were sound, just not my body and mind. I was catching up on tons of work and felt each day running shorter and shorter. "<span style="background-color: #fefefe; color: #333333; line-height: 25px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>The Cross Florida Individual Time Trial is Florida’s Premier Off road Ultra Endurance Event. It is a one of a kind coast to coast bikepacking challenge, the only one of its kind in the United States.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefefe; color: #333333; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>The route is 250 miles of mixed terrain: Singletrack, forest road, paved roads, bike trails, double track and grassy abandoned easements. This is an at your own risk personal challenge that each rider voluntarily wants to engage in." </i></span></span>CFITT goes from the Atlantic Coast in New Smyrna to the Gulf Coast in Inglis Florida. As the day to leave for Florida grew near, I went into packing mode and had all my gear loaded and ready a full day before travel time. I was not surprised I had this down to a science, since packing up and rolling out to ride was becoming quite the routine lately. I contacted my friend and fellow MTP Velo team member, Patrick Lackey to go over the logistics of our trip. Since we were leaving midday Friday after work, we were unable to take advantage of the van ride being offered by SingleTrack Samurai who was hosting the event, so we formulated our own method. We would drive to Gainsville, rent out a one way rental, follow Patrick to the finish line, leave his car there, and then use the rental to drive back over to New Smyrna, check into our hotel, get into temp riding gear, drive the rental to the drop off point and use our bikes to return back to our hotel. It was a great plan. <br />
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Our trip down south included a stop at an old BBQ place which used to be pretty good, but we both agreed our meal that day was lackluster, but at least we stopped to enjoy it. Pretty soon, we rolled into Gainesville and started going through our plan of attack. In the finish line parking lot, we run into Bill Bailey waiting for the shuttle as well as a few other people who I will eventually ride with for most of the next few days. Then, we drive across Florida to the Atlantic side in good time. Next thing you know Patrick and I are pedaling bikes, after dropping off the rental, across the back side of New Smyrna in some cooler than expected temperatures. Dinner that night was at an Irish restaurant a few blocks from our hotel as we discovered walking 2.5 miles to the meet and greet several hours after it had started might not be a good idea, especially with the race meeting planned for 4:45am the next day. Nightfall came quickly and we finalized getting our few belongings laid out and ready for the next morning as 4am was going to come up fast. Patrick briefly mentioned getting my mail-out box ready before I went to bed, but I had not grasped the importance of this statement until it was too late. We discussed race tactics and anticipation for the following day and I also manage to grab a vitally important snapshot of the cue sheet he had made earlier that week. <br />
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I hit the bed and my mind shut down instantly knowing I needed to get as much rest as possible since tomorrow I was planning on a nonstop pedal attack across central Florida. 4am and I jump out of bed, into my race kit and have everything setup except, I now realize what I had forgotten to do prior to going to bed....get my mail-out box ready! Since we had no way of returning to New Smyrna, all the clothes on our backs had to be mailed back to our homes! Ok, I thought, I can do this...I will just stuff my things inside Patrick's still open box and use one box to mail out...wrong. His box was packed tightly already since he had his night clothes and misc day trip stuff. Patrick gave me the " I told you this" look and I knew this was all on me and that I had made a major blunder. I wished him good luck today and mentioned that I hope to see you at the start as I knew I had to get out of the room immediately and work on mailing out my box. I was slowly starting to panic and setoff down the hall fully geared up to find a computer kiosk from which to print out my mailing label at 4:15am! I sat down in front of a nice computer terminal and went to the usps.com website. Here is where all my trouble actually started. The website account creation for usps.com is one of the worst facilities on the free earth. I have never had so much difficulty attempting to create an account based on their incredibly ridiculous password generation requirements. <br />
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<div class="result" id="result-noUpper" style="border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span class="error" style="background-image: url(https://reg.usps.com/entreg/assets/images/registration/success_error_icon.gif); background-position: 0px -16px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border: 0px; color: #eb0f0e; display: block; font-size: 1em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 16px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 18px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 1em;">Your Password must be at least 10 characters long.</span></span></div>
<div class="result" id="result-noUpper" style="border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span class="error" style="background-image: url(https://reg.usps.com/entreg/assets/images/registration/success_error_icon.gif); background-position: 0px -16px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border: 0px; color: #eb0f0e; display: block; font-size: 1em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 16px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 18px; vertical-align: baseline;">Your Password must contain at least one upper-case character.</span></div>
<div class="result" id="result-noNumber" style="border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span class="error" style="background-image: url(https://reg.usps.com/entreg/assets/images/registration/success_error_icon.gif); background-position: 0px -16px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border: 0px; color: #eb0f0e; display: block; font-size: 1em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 16px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 18px; vertical-align: baseline;">Your Password must contain at least one number.</span></div>
<div class="result" id="result-specialCharac" style="border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span class="error" style="background-image: url(https://reg.usps.com/entreg/assets/images/registration/success_error_icon.gif); background-position: 0px -16px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border: 0px; color: #eb0f0e; display: block; font-size: 1em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 16px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 18px; vertical-align: baseline;">Your Password must contain at least one of the following special characters: - () . & @ ? ' # , / " +</span></div>
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<div class="result" id="result-tooShort" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 19.5px; margin: 0px; orphans: auto; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">
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<div class="result" id="result-noUpper" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 19.5px; margin: 0px; orphans: auto; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span class="error" style="background-image: url(https://reg.usps.com/entreg/assets/images/registration/success_error_icon.gif); background-position: 0px -16px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border: 0px; color: #eb0f0e; display: block; font-size: 1em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 16px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 18px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 1em;">Allowable characters are letters, numbers and the following special characters: - () . & @ ? ' # , / " +</span></span></div>
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If you had more than one number, you failed, if you had more than one upper case character you failed, if you had more than one special character, you failed....get my problem? Realize also that the entered password was not viewable, so anything you typed had to be clearly visualized. This was not the kind of problem I was expecting to have at 4:25am. I thought to myself, relax, you are a computer professional, you can do this...I was wrong, I couldn't do this. After 5 more minutes frantically trying to create an account, Patrick pops in and asks me why I am still here . I mention to him that I am stuck trying to create an account and just cannot do it! 4:35am. He tries to login with his account and fails repeatedly at logging in. I tell him to go and focus on his race. I then deduce that maybe the terminal is not sending special characters correctly to the form or maybe the machine has a key logging virus to which I then immediately stop touching it and run out into the lobby to see what else can be done. There is a front desk person walking around handling various tasks and I finally explain that I cannot print out a mailing label and that he please hold onto my mailing box until I contact them this upcoming week and email them the label. He politely agrees to hold the box for me and my problems are temporarily solved. I set about taping the box only to stop and think for just a moment. What if I never see these items again? Is there anything of true importance in the box? Yes there is! My special Snake Creek Gap Time Trial belt buckle! I literally rip the buckle off the belt and stuff it in my upper bike bag next to my camera. I then seal the box and hand it off to the front desk. He wishes me good luck on my journey and I race off out the door of the hotel, not looking back since I am already late. 4:47am and I am racing down the beach boulevard searching for the start of the race. I finally find the spot on the beach where everyone is meeting up and as I hear Karlos' voice yell GO! I yell NO while riders depart all around me as I flounder onto the beach crossing Celso at one moment for a quick hello.<br />
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I haven't even taken my checkpoint #1 (CP1) wheel dip picture yet, so that will take some time. I reach down, grab my camera quickly and place my back wheel in the Atlantic ocean also managing to soak both of my shoes in the process. I turn on my Canon quick shot and try to snap a picture, but something is wrong and the damn camera keeps fighting focus and not allowing me to take a proper shot. I finally realize that my rear blinkie light is messing with the camera lighting adjust, so I tear the blinkie off my bike and "temporarily" toss it up onto the beach. I turn around, take my photo properly, turn off my camera, stuff it back into the top bag, grab my handlebars and push my bike up and away from the water. I then look down to pick up my blinkie only to find it is gone. I look around some more thinking some sand got kicked up on it. Nowhere. I yell out loud SERIOUSLY? Did someone just snag my blinkie within 1-2 minutes time? I cannot believe I am wasting precious time looking for a red safety light. I cannot believe it is gone! I ask a few of the other stragglers if they had seen my blinkie and they give me a puzzled look and I explain it, but they have just not seen it. I chalk it up to a loss and push on through the beach sand, very much concerned I was losing my mind. I make my way to the lead-out road and come across Karlos, the mastermind of the CFITT, and he hands me a mini cue sheet and phone number to MTB Cast, which lets riders call in and do mini race reports. I use this service every time I do a bike packing race and it is so cool to hear the stories of other riders after the event has transpired. I explain to him that I am running late and so much has happened and now I lose my blinkie on the beach, which stops a certain person in motion. As Karlos is "talking me down" and letting me know how he also started late and not to worry so much, the person that stopped walking forward looks conflicted and I straight out ask her, did you see a flashing red blinkie on the beach? Her face turns red and she says yes...I ask her where and she pulls it out of her pocket! I excitedly explain that I was looking all over the beach for that thing and she apologizes that she thought a racer had dropped it, but from the frustrated tone in my voice she interpreted me as being upset with her and I immediately change my tone and also think if I had seen a blinkie on the beach, I would have picked it up too....anyways, who cares, no harm, no foul, only thing lost here is time...about 25 minutes worth. I finally approach the bridge leading out of New Smyrna by about 5:25am....all alone except for a few straggler racers also having their own issues. I then remember one other thing I had forgotten to do...turn on my SPOT! Now I would not have an official total race leader breadcrumb trail. I was very frustrated by the fact that my tracker was off, so I stopped and went through the steps to turn it on. Madness building up in my mind, I sped off and passed a group of racers up to the point of entering the college campus wall. I could not find the spot to enter! I knew it was a sliver of an entrance and I was already lost, GPS clearly pointing me to the right spot, but I could not find my way across the wall. Several of the racers I had passed had also caught up and were facing the same difficulty. This is one aspect of bike pack racing that I have yet to master as all of my previous endurance races had every obstacle flagged and clearly marked. These races were across areas where marking was just not realistic. I finally find the hole and speed off again almost reaching the entry to the initial single track behind the college, only to have yet another setback. My GPS starts flashing "batteries low" I stare down in disbelief, cuss at the unit and toggle to check if this is for real. I find that the thing is about to die with no power bars left. so I stop, open the GPS, pull out both batteries, place them aside and them realize I have to dig through my rear bag all the way to the very back of it to find replacement batteries as I thought I would not be replacing batteries at all during this race. I replace the batteries, close up my GPS and stuff all my camping gear, dry clothing, and food back into my rear bag, synch it tightly again and proceed to enter the boggy initial terrain. Total time lost: 10 minutes. At this point in the race, I was just in shock at having such a rocky start. I didn't know what to think and just tried to roll with the punches. The knee deep bog was handled with ease thanks to the fat tired beast that my Krampus is all about. I was still wet from the beach, so slogging through more water did not faze me as I am used to nasty conditions. I shrugged off the crud and entered into the type of riding that I know how to do best. Then another setback hit me, literally. Riding along in the pitch dark with only a little light, I am knocked off my bike by a tree branch sticking out around a tight corner at the right angle and take the impact 100% on my right hand. I feel a searing hot pain and know thats a game changer. I sit there in the early morning darkness on my ass in the damp woods somewhere close to the start of this race and consider just going back to the hotel. I remove my glove and there is a healthy laceration on my right pinky. I grab a strip of duct tape from my seat tube and tear off a little bit of my cue sheet and wrap it around my pinky as a temp bandaid stop gap. It hurts so bad and don't realize until a week later that it had a small fracture thanks to adrenaline keeping it under control. I slide the glove back on, jump back on the beast and get back to putting in some miles. My right hand was throbbing but after some focus on the trail ahead of me, the pain subsided. I also realize the reason I couldn't see the branch is because my bike handlebar light was disconnected due to some low branch snag. After re-connecting, it was like night and day! After a few more miles, I come across a creek crossing and hear Karlos somewhere around the area cheering us on. It was good to know someone was enjoying watching us suffer. The next miles were uneventful and I hardly remember putting them in except for coming up on some forgotten monorail tracks parallel to some crazy fields. Up ahead of me is another rider riding at his pace clearly having fun and enjoying the ride. I come up on him and he has the biggest smile on his face and greets me with a loud "how's it goin" greeting! I am clearly still very much in a dark place and lightly reply back to him "doing better now, just need a little more energy, thats all" He explains the history of the abandoned monorail project and was very knowledgeable about the area. We ride side by side for a bit getting to know each other and I find out his name is SkiJi (aka Jimmy)! He turns out to be the coolest cat I have met on a bike packing trip yet, next to Karlos, of course ;). As I tell him who I am, he just about loses it as he tells me that he reads my blog! I am in shock that anyone would read the long winded stories of my backpacking misadventures...but there he was an actual fan of my writings, LOL! At the moment, I just didn't know how to read him and felt very much lost in my head from my crappy start so I decided to continue alone. I powered up ahead of him and made short work of the monorail bed, only to miss a turn, backtrack and ride with SkiJi a little more. I then raced ahead and hoped that CP2 would be approaching soon. At this point, I am <br />
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20-30 miles in and everything is going fine as the terrain was matching the bike setup perfectly...then came the roads... I met up with Ray Egan and Larry Garcia at this point and we chatted for a while. Upon finally getting to CP2, Osteen Marker, I realized the terrain was switching more and more to paved roads or paved bike/walking trail. Being how the terrain in Florida is basically all flat, there is no rest after long climbs. You are always on the pedals. I kept rolling along catching back up to Ray & Larry who are setting a strong pace on standard MTB tires. I try and match their pace and slowly fade back as my legs are pissed and my tires are fatter. I know that I had been hammering along too harsh to catch up to the group, but I was going to work myself through until I reached the ferry and that was that! The only problem was that my legs kept fading and I kept worrying about time. Of course, now that my legs are noodles was when one of the harder sections of the ride started...super long craggy rock rail bed which felt like it went on forever, but it was really only about 5-6 miles. Somewhere along the way in-between railbeds and jumping fences, we were yelled at by some fool in a pickup truck about trespassing. Jason responding to him that we were in the right only set him off further threatening to call the cops! LOL! Cops don't want none of tha Krampus! They can't go where I go. LOL! We finally arrive at CP3, the Fish Camp, and take the obligatory picture including the bike, leaning tree and lake. I think at this point was when I met Tony Buchman. <br />
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I tell the group we had formed that I was going to roll ahead and fine the next convenience store as I was experiencing a massive case of the bonks. I find the next convenience store, and sit there in a daze munching through a Subway footlong and a coconut water. I know the heavy initial push to catch up was weighing down on me. Everyone else catches up, grabs something quick to eat while basking momentarily in the sun. Not too long afterwards, SkiJi comes rolling by yelling that he was not stopping as Tony speeds off after him! His steady pace was paying off! A lady riding on a tandem rolls up and comments on how pale I look and if I was feeling alright. I told her I just went out too hard, that's all. The rest of the group finishes up and speeds off leaving me alone wondering why I am not back on my bike! I finally get back on and slowly pedal away only to start picking up my pace after about 5 minutes of warm up time. The liquids I had chosen were "clean" and not filled with high fructose corn syrup so my system was processing quickly and smoothly. I feel much, much better and the bike starts picking up speed. I enter the Chuck Lennon area and there is a bas ass MTB park nestled in here that is part of the CFITT course. As I start on Red Panther and connect to Screaming Hawk, I come across Ray and Larry who are having a time navigating their loaded bikes through these tight trails. Then add in a ton of hard trail options which were very much my elements, and my body was happy and rolling along. Upon exiting on the Raccoon Run blue trail, I come across another rider, who has just experienced a major race ending mechanical regarding his backpacking gear. It seemed his rear bag support had snapped and he was not able to keep it steady. Upon a quick assessment of the issue, it seemed he had already tried zip ties and extra straps and they had snapped, so I was no use to him at all. Fortunately, for him, he was in a very populated area to quit the race, so I quickly said my goodbyes and kept on trucking. As I popped out of those trails, I felt fantastic. My energy levels were restored and as long as I kept a steady pace, all would go fine. I started pedaling along and started worrying about time again. I skipped the next convenience store, caught up to SkiJi again and passed him soon afterwards as he was feeling the burn of the long haul. I start opening up the throttle a little more as I knew the miles between myself and the ferry were now few. I floated that fat tire beast across some sandy loose pack along beautiful, seemingly endless gravel roads and once again caught up to the rest of the stronger group from earlier. I virtually fly past them like they were standing still. <br />
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I yell out that I have a ferry to catch as I fly by and proceed to hammer out the remaining miles. 5 miles left to the ferry and the gravel dumps me onto a long, paved road shoulder and I once again feel the drag of my tires holding me back bit, but my legs were able to keep things moving along. However, the wind within the last 3 miles was solid and against me making me work super hard for that final stretch. As I roll up to the ferry, I realize I had worked way too hard once again and felt very much drained. I also realized I had about 30 minutes of time to kill and nothing to drink. A soda machine sat there looking at me beckoning me to drink up. I felt so drained from that last push that a bit of sweet caffeine would have been magical. After a bit of hustling to get some spare change, I feed the machine and guzzle down a can of Mountain Dew in a few minutes time. It brought me back from the edge. Feeling satisfied to have caught up with many other riders, such as Bill Bailey, Jerry Metz and a few others whose names escape me, I laid back and just relaxed contemplating what to do when on the other side. A voice inside me said find a solid pace, and finish the ride by morning time. There was also a deeper rooted voice telling me to ride a bit further and decide where to setup camp since I was racing noone except myself and I was really crushed. As Tony and SkiJi caught up, I recalled discussing Tony's race plans earlier in the day in which he had mentioned a place to camp. I mentioned to Tony that I was probably going to camp as well. I was 95% onboard with this idea as nightfall would be upon us within the next few hours and the temperature was dropping quickly. The other side of the river started with a taste of the nasty stuff that sugar sand can be. Everyone was off their bikes and pushing along except for Jerry and I. Then it was just Jerry pushing along and away. I was so drained, the actual work of steady balancing on the floaty sand was more of a struggle than simply pushing alone. The group rode along consistently for the next 10 miles until I found the campsite sign for Delancy East. As I stopped in front of it alone and ahead of most, I was faced with the sole decision to camp or to simply push onwards. As my feet unclipped and my weary legs stretched out, the decision to stay and camp hit home quickly and I awaited Tony & Skiji to pick out a spot. Jason Greene showed up before they did and I mentioned my intent to camp to which he agreed as well. A few more guys rolled up with one of them wanting to camp, but his friends urged him to continue onwards. We rolled into our awesome campsite for the night, picked out a spot a bit further back from the other campers so that we could get some sleep, had a brief safety meeting to discuss the issues of the day and ate whatever foods we had packed. Everyone held great conversation about the days events. I knew I had made the right decision as I laid there snug inside my super cozy sleeping bag and tent shelter. The heat made recovery much more pleasant as my legs were really throbbing. Jason slept outside in a bivy hardcore style while Tony and SkiJi both snoozed away in really nice ultralite setups. Those guys were pro. I fell into a deep sleep at around 9:30pm and planned on only sleeping until around 4am. As the night wore on, I awoke at around 1:30am and wondered if I should be getting up to go or not, but the cold chill kept me firmly zipped up in my bag. I did hear Jason grumble something about the cold being too much for him as he loaded up quickly and set off back on the trail. As I lay there in my bag nearly back asleep, I hear the rustling sound of drunk rednecks in a campsite nearby. I do believe one of them was idiot enough to babble some kind of nonsense close to my tent...any closer and he would have been met with my blade which I had placed in a tent pocket for quick retrieval. Fortunately for him, I thought SkiJi was pulling a prank close by and simply told him to bugger off to which he did! I went back to sleep, woke back up around 4:30am to clear the kidneys, rolled back into my tent, stretched my legs and rolled over in my sleeping bag...no longer actually racing, I treated myself to a few more hours of sleep and before I knew it the early bird was singing its song.....<br />
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<a href="http://ridewithgps.com/trips/3788756" target="_blank">CFITT Track Day 1</a><br />
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<br />LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-524027016745718542014-11-14T00:14:00.003-05:002014-11-14T00:14:44.981-05:00TNGA: Post Report from Mulberry Gap<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So after the exhilaration of making it to the border simmer down, I found myself rolling along in the seat of Andrew Gate's suv. My bike was somewhere on the back and my mind was floating between reality and the single track I had just come down off of. I still could not believe I had finished such a massive stretch of distance with an equally massive amount of vertical feet of climbing. It was still so surreal. The ride back to Mulberry Gap was a blur only filled in with the comical antics of Colin eating every bit of candy and junk food in the car that he could find. I still could not really eat, but I was focused on rehydrating and I found a true common ground with coconut water and juice. It quenched and felt good on my raspy throat. As we entered Mulberry Gap, I parked my rig inside the Barn and proceeded to the showers to clean myself off after that last push which consisted of around 18 hours in the saddle. The chafing was still very painful, but I cleaned and treated everything to the best of my knowledge and slid into nice dry clothing. It was an immediate mental boost. I brushed my crusty teeth, put away all my dirty clothes and setup my spot in my cabin bunk. I then limped back over to the barn for drinks, dinner and conversation. I went through about 3 beers in an hour and never felt a buzz as my body was so jacked on caffeine and adrenaline that I could not come down from yet. I met another finisher Michael Kurelja who had finished strong and was still not wanting to leave Mulberry, of which I could not blame him. This place is incredible! Warm, inviting, sincere people working and living here with immediate access to Pinohti 2 & 3 trail systems! Colin was a wreck and could not drink a beer, but held in there and shared his gift of conversation with the group. We all babbled about the common obstacles we had faced and how everyone had done. It was a conversation which wrapped into many hours in and around an incredible dinner rich with proteins and real vegetables and more! It was most definitely the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. As we sat there relaxing and still talking about all things TNGA, another rider, Asa Marshall, came to join us. His vivid knowledge of all the issues and troubles we had encountered helped filled in the vague blanks in trail names and locations. He kept the conversation going strong by sharing fruit, chips, and ice cream with us. Such a great night. I limped back to my cabin bunk and passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow. I woke at first light to see Colin surfing the web on his phone. He blurts out, good morning! I respond to which he then says...it was you after all! I reply confused, what do you mean? The mystery snorer! Embarrassed and laughing at the same time, I realize at the beginning of our adventure, we had shared a yurt and since there were so many of us in there, we were not able to figure out who had snored so loudly that night. I did not realize I snored that loudly until that day in Mulberry and thanks to Colin, the mystery was solved...LOL! I slowly gather my stuff, loaded up my truck, said my goodbyes to everyone and headed back home with some fantastic trail riding memories. Long Live Long Rides!!!<br />
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LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-44420897640500288242014-11-13T23:42:00.003-05:002014-11-14T00:20:33.957-05:00TNGA: Taming the Snake, End Game....<br />
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So onwards I rolled towards Dalton...awake, very, very awake. My inner legs were chafed beyond understanding and there was nothing I could do except ignore the pain and pedal forward. Moving alongside a busy highway road, life went on as usual oblivious to the enormous effort and distance I had traveled. It was a very humbling and personal moment to know that what I was doing was really just for me. No one had forced me to put forth this effort, but there I was pedaling along very much sore and wanting to just stop and lay in the grass alongside the highway and give up, but I was not giving up the fight. I knew what was left and it scared me. The Snake is a very tough stretch of the Pinohti that truly challenged me year after year in the early months of each year during a 3 series event called the Snake Creek Time Trials. After taking the challenge in the freezing cold for my third year, I swore I would never return as this section of trail had finally broken me. I cherished my symbolic belt buckle earned during this final event and was content with the fact that I had tackled a most extreme challenge and had inner completion. Yet here I was not only tackling this same challenge once again, but also doing it on a loaded bike, with nearly 300 miles behind me, and rolling it in reverse! It was more than enough to occupy my mind all the way into Dalton alongside a very narrow highway with a fair amount of traffic moving by nearly swiping me at times. As I neared Dalton, traffic increased as well as my survival awareness. I was looking for some kind of strategy upon entering the Snake and felt a quick reload on carbs was in order. A local Pizza Inn was the final looming oasis before the long climb up towards the radio towers, so in I went. I was a few minutes early for lunch buffet, so I had a soda and relaxed while my phone charged. As the buffet opened up, I loaded up my plate with mounds of fresh cheesy goodness and ate until I was good and ugly stuffed. The attendant looked at me with wide eyes like I was a hungry homeless person. That is exactly how I felt too. I felt like I still needed a little more time to recharge since the Snake was doing its best to intimidate me. I look out the window across the road and spot a Days Inn motel. I quickly formulate a plan which consisted of checking in, showering, treating my chafed body and sleeping until sundown, and then tackling the Snake. Room booked and belly full, I check my Facebook messages, and checked in at the Pizza Inn on my status page. Within a few minutes, I received a response from Kate from Mulberry Gap asking me if I had caught up with Colin Campbell yet. I was stumped by the question. I had assumed Colin had already gone over and was finished. I was confused. I surf to the track leaders website and notice Colin's dot was somewhere behind, but very close by! I had no idea how that had happened as I totally assumed that he was way ahead of me. Kate let me know that he may need a buddy to navigate the Snake and encouraged me to wait for him and roll over together. At first, I was apprehensive towards the idea as I usually don't ride consistently with others mostly because my pace varies. I also was not excited by the idea of possibly having to worry about another rider whose skills on the single track were unknown to me, but it would be good to have someone there to back me up as well. After last night's mess, a little company on the final stretch would be a good thing, so I messaged Colin and let him know where I would be staying and to find me there. I headed over to the motel, showered up and no sooner did I get a little bit of sleep, that Colin was knocking on the door. He was very excited to see me as I was him since we both were kind of on the same mental level regarding this TNGA thing. We caught up on his nightmare of a night in the land of a million felled trees. I could not believe his night and hope he fills us all in someday on his blog. As we were waiting on his new lights to recharge, I went over to Kroger and bought some deli chicken and some topical medication for my chafed sores. I loaded my bike up with more food and liquid than I thought I would need and our plan on rolling out by 6pm materialized. Rolling away from a super nice motel room and lots of clean available liquid was a luxury I had quickly come to appreciate. We climbed in silence knowing that once we neared the radio tower, all bets were off and the final push would truly begin. The climb to the radio tower really felt like it took forever and my legs burned with lactic acid buildup from the midday reprieve. We took turns pulling but it was more just to occupy our minds than to cheat the wind. As we neared the radio towers, reality set in and a sudden surge of energy bubbled up. Into the first stretch of single track we pedaled, excited with rested energy and focused on the trials that lay ahead we started to really pick up our pace. I started cruising through familiar rock gardens and find myself pedaling through them with ease. I start to wonder if the fat tires are helping out with the stability and the ease through the lines, but then maybe it's because I am really tuned into riding my bike after 3 solid days out here. Colin is keeping up fine, so my worries about his level of skill quickly fade away. The night was clear and the weather was perfect. Looking up at massive expanses of the milky way made us want to slow down and appreciate the area we were in a little more. Going backwards on the Snake was actually much smoother than I expected and that was a good thing. After more than a few hours pedaling along and taking my little trip down memory lane, I come back to reality and start to focus on my water supplies and output levels. I was amazed and worried at the amount of liquids I had already consumed. According to Karlos, there were only a few key locations to reload on water and it was critical that we did not miss these on our way through. To make things a bit trickier, Colin's lights were acting up and his pace slowed considerably. We yoyo'd along as best we could and found a common speed. It was at this point that some hike a bike was needed to avoid wasting energy on the more technical areas. This was a good plan as we would later find out. As we pedaled along, I could hear lots of animals close by and then they started howling and we immediately recognized the familiar sound of coyotes. They seemed to be shadowing us along the edge of the ridge and it was a little spooky. After about 30 more minutes of hearing them, I realized it was because they could smell our deli foods! I told Colin we were going to have to stop once we were out of the first 17 mile stretch and eat and get rid of any edible deli foods we had to make sure we were not followed any further. He agreed and we ate every bit of it down at the mid point trailhead. We were very much tired and exhausted at this point and our spirits were a bit low, but we sucked it up, reloaded our bikes and carried on. We pedaled along a bit more quiet as we had not found much in the form of water and we were starting to worry. After more than an hour later, we found a tiny little trickle of water coming through the rocks, but it was not flowing enough to justify caching water here. We pedaled on, hoping that we would find more. After close to a half an hour later, we find a deeper creek, but the water really wasn't flowing, but after some speculation, we decided to cache up water anyways, but not filter it until we really needed it. We pedal on with our insurance water onboard. A short while later, we find the "third" noted creek by Karlos and the water was flowing strong! We celebrate by finishing up our current water as we had started sipping to conserve what we had. It was an uplifting moment which took more than 45 minutes to filter all of our bottles. As we left that spot, we knew that the next stop would be the Alabama border, but we had no idea how much more effort it would take. Onwards we pushed, hiking often as the road was long and arduous. I have no idea how many sections of the Snake we traversed before we popped out and finished it with desperate efforts to just get this over with. More single track was encountered after a road connector and lots of vague downhill stretches kept our minds and reflexes busy. We were drunk with fatigue and found ourselves lost in front of one entrance to a section for over 20 minutes as we could not figure out how to enter the section. So much great trail was being explored and experienced and it kept getting better and better, but our minds were growing ever more foggy by the moment. As the sun came up, we found ourselves drunk with fatigue and found a road to stop and have "breakfast" I pulled out the last piece of "real" gas station food I had on my bike, a bacon, egg and cheese breakfast green burrito. It was so tasty and I was lost in the enjoyment of it until I turned to notice Colin had nodded off while eating his sardines. It was a definite turning point. I immediately finished my food and rallied Colin to get up and get moving again as I felt there was a strong possibility that we could both pass out and sleep till noon losing precious time before the peak heat of the day. His core temp dropped and he was hitting a wall, so I shared a few caffeinated Gu gels with him and they slowly pulled him back to life. At this point, we experienced some insane climbs with vertical walls almost to the point of being too steep to climb. I could not believe how strong and steady I felt. I was standup climbing better than I had on the first day and was amazed by my output. Colin was still getting his motor going and we bobbed back and forth for miles and miles. Then nearing the final ridge, I felt the power start to drain from my legs and Colin inversely started to speed up. He looked like I felt earlier and I wanted some of that back, but I just could not get back to that moment. I hiked easy sections at this point just to shake my legs out, but I was feeling like crap. I forced down some more food and hoped for the best. My body was feeling the increasing heat of the day and Colin was flying onwards up ahead. I did find a moment where I was feeling good again and bombed some of the rolling single track hitting some sweet jumps on the monster rig. Colin and I were stoked to be having fun again! We wrapped up the final section of that ridge in style with Colin picking up an indian feather and some other trail trinkets. Upon leaving the Pinohti, we hoot and cheer as we wrap up the final downhill roller to the trail head. We then proceed to the rail trail leading us to the end. It is a simple double track path which seems to not be traveled on regularly. We pickup speed and surge forward. We stop at a general store and load up on fruit juice to satisfy our cravings for fresh fruit stand fruit which we never found. After that final reload, it was nonstop to the end of the line. Alabama! The final road stretch to the border seemed like it was taking forever and we were nervously double checking our GPS to verify we were not taking any wrong turns at this point. Once we knew the end was near, we raced on doing everything we could to finish this massive accomplishment. As we approach the green border sign, we agree on crossing the line together equally since we both felt our efforts were shared. I felt an incredible surge of elation and an uplifting of emotions after reaching the border. It was unlike anything I had ever felt during any mountain bike race. It was most definitely a good feeling and made the entire ordeal an adventure unlike anything I had ever experienced before. A great new friend was made and lots of other friends were made along the way. The final push was done and the Snake was tamed once again. TNGA 2014 was accomplished and I was so happy to know I was a finisher!<br />
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<a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/187021039" target="_blank">The Final Push</a>LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-53582551823813638712014-11-06T16:37:00.000-05:002014-12-19T16:10:31.250-05:00To Lake Moultrie and Back....<br />
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The heat was on and my legs were gone....that basically sums up how I felt with the upcoming CFITT (Cross Florida Individual Time Trial) ride to which I had committed. I was still spinning around in circles after TNGA, followed by Pisgah Monster CX, and volunteering at HellHole gravel grind race, and just felt like I needed about a month off the bike and on the couch. Nonetheless, I needed to get up and outside to test out my rig since I changed the layout since I predicted much less climbing than I had experienced in Georgia. I really wanted to check out the current status of the Palmetto trail, so I made up a simple ride leaving from my house and connecting into the Palmetto Trail Swamp Fox Passage at my earliest entry. I planned on riding up to Lake Moultrie, and then returning. Upon leaving my house, I realized just how heavy and sluggish my legs felt although I was riding further off the highway to better visualize the amount of resistance I would be experiencing in the boggy trail of Florida's wetlands. After 10 miles or so, I entered the Palmetto trail and the bumpy lumpy trail let me know it was going to be a long day in the saddle. There was so much erosion on the trail that it really allowed me to get much more intimate with my new Anatomica saddle than I was ready for. My hands were also paying the price as I had way too much tire pressure based on the trail chatter. I finally stopped and adjusted, but it took a along ways into the trail to stop and make the changes. I was surprised at just how long this trail really is. I hadn't even started at the very beginning of the Swamp Fox passage and I was already approaching my 5th hour pedaling along the twisty turny swervy trail before me. I encountered 3-4 primitive campsites along the way and made waypoint markers for all of them on my GPS for future use. One that really stood out to me was Cane Gully. It had a nicely setup campfire ring, was near a babbling stream, and was setup high enough to be able to see for a ways. I planned on returning to this spot to setup camp after reaching Lake Moultrie. Crossing the narrow bridge at this point was also exciting as well as opened up a beautiful section of trail with brilliant colors and wide open single track. I got lost mentally on this section as it let me experience the beauty of connecting with the forest. Then I realized I was totally low on water and still had a few more hours to go before reaching Moultrie. I was not concerned since the weather was moderate but I was imagining this happening in Florida and contemplated the amount of water I was carrying and whether or not to load up more reserves. As I went deeper into the Palmetto and closer to Moultrie the trail grew more dense and harder to navigate without some careful hike a bike. I knew this would get tricky with a fully loaded rig and looked forward to unforeseen issues to be able to handle them here rather than out in the middle of Florida. Surprisingly, my Krampus backpacking rig held up quite nicely regardless of the saddle choice which was now doing its best to leave me transgendered. I knew that if I wanted to put in more hasty miles, I would have to stand up pedal to avoid having that horrid saddle bash my taint and tenders once again. So, after miles of doing the same in Georgia as well as up in Pisgah, I stood up, picked a neutral gear choice and rolled along at a moderate pace. I love this trail regardless of the lumps and bumps since it seems to stand the test of time, thanks to the USFS men and women who maintain it of course, but it is nice to be able to experience it again after several years of only cutting through sections of it. I was still on the trail when the sixth hour came and went. I didn't really have a set arrival time, but I was surprised it was taking me this long, but I was fully loaded and only able to speed up to around 7 mph due to the rough trail conditions. I would pull off 10-15 every now and then, but it was brief and nowhere near enough to gap a long distance. As night enveloped my bike and soul, the lights came on and helped illuminate my way. The dynamo pumped out more than enough juice to keep my Revo light shining bright. I put my helmet light on mid power and rolled along confidently into each and every turn. My pace turned up around the 7th hour as I tired of soft pedaling and grew a bit thirsty as I had now run totally out of water. I neared the exit of the Palmetto and US 17 to the trailhead when I encountered a pair of fully grown PitBulls charging at me! This situation had me on full alert and I immediately put my bike between them and I. As they slowed and barked at me within a foot or two, I reached for my knife which was conveniently near my left hand. I quickly opened it and kept it close for a last chance attack. I yelled at them to get back, go to their couch, and several other things to try and confuse them. It actually seemed to work for one of them as it went far back into a crate which they seemed to be living in. There were blankets, a giant water bowl and 2 open bags of dogfood within sight. The other Pitt was more protective and seemed more cautionary than vicious. As I noticed their slight inclination to submissive domestics, I played my dominant card and walked forward and through them all while keeping a solid glance on them letting them know I was in charge with my bike in-between them and myself. As I pushed through, I walked backwards and kept my eyes on them to the edge of the highway. I was in shock that someone would abandon two beautiful animals in such a way. As I approached the edge of the highway, I re-prioritized my objectives and focused on making it to a gas station about a mile or so down the road. I loaded up on juice, an energy drink, some sugar loaded junk food and restocked my rig with gatorade and water. I then scooted off from there since it was starting to get chilly. After nearing the lake, I meandered over and realized I could not see since it was so dark, so I spun around and decided to make my way back to base camp, setup and try and dry off. <br />
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It took me about an hour to make it back to the campsite as I was fully hydrated and able to put out more power. As I selected my spot and started setting up camp, I realized I had less than 30 minutes before I would be shaking from the cold as it had dropped down into the low 40s and I was soaking wet from sweat and the humidity level around me. I shuffled priorities and made a quick fire first to get some base coals going. <br />
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Once the fire was crackling, I went back and setup my tent and laid out my thermarest and sleeping bag. I then quickly tore off my wet clothes and into my dry camp clothes. <br />
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It is amazing how much just switching into dry warm clothing can bring up your spirits. After camp was setup, I setup a dry clothesline and hung my clothes near the fire. I then setup another high line to hang my rear bag which was full of food. I grabbed the foods I would be eating for dinner that night and scavenged enough firewood to last all night. As the night grew long, I ate, relaxed and played on my phone since I had a great signal out here! A few hours later, I was calling it a night and crept into my happy hut. My super soft ultralite sleeping bag hugged my body well and I knew this was coming along with me in Florida. I fell asleep in less than a few moments and thought I was gone until the morning, but I was wrong. A few hours into my slumber, I am awoken by lots of rustling and heavy panting. It does not sound like pranksters so I assume a bear or critters. I hear a lot more rustling very close by and hear a yip or two and confirm coyotes! I wasn't sure how close they were but it sounded like they were right outside. Then, before I can even roll out of my bag a bone chilling chorus of howls emit from right outside my tent! It sounded like at least a dozen or so dogs scavenging about out there. I had never really considered this situation and didn't have a clue as to what to do! I quickly googled how campers handle coyotes and the consensus was that they mostly leave them alone, so I finally made an attempt to get out of my tent and slowly open a flap. I could see lots of movement but not clearly, so I click on my flashlight and immediately see about a dozen sets of eyes looking at me! I yell GET and they start shuffling and slinking into the shadows. I take the opportunity to run towards the smoldering fire and stoke it quickly to get some sparks. I throw a ton of kindling into it and quickly get a giant blaze going and stay close to it hoping it is enough to send them running. I shine my flashlight through the woods again and fail to see any more eyes looking back at me. I then setup heavy clubs around my tent to have something to reach for if they decide to come back. It is crazy how quickly one goes into survival mode once there is a definite need. I roll back off to sleep, but I am lightly aware of my surroundings and know I am going to be tired in the morning. Morning comes quickly and before I know it I am breaking down camp and loading up my rig. I am happy to have made it through that crazy night, but happier to know everything I brought along was used properly and I am not carrying more than I should. A lesson learned from TNGA. I set out at a nice pace and decide to navigate along gravel today since the grew tired of the bump factor along the Palmetto trail. Before long, I am back home, showering and telling all about my crazy night with the coyotes! Good times.<br />
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Official GPS: <a href="http://ridewithgps.com/trips/3740185">http://ridewithgps.com/trips/3740185</a>LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-52739821185030264682014-11-04T15:53:00.003-05:002014-11-04T15:58:10.150-05:00Theee Backyard Experience...So it was Halloween, and I was hanging out doing my thing, handing out candy, drinking a few tasty beers...then the trick or treaters fade out and I find myself in front of a bonfire with lots of cool neighbors all hanging out relaxing and I thought...well, I guess I am not going to Charlotte tomorrow and ride in the BackYard Experience (BYE). Then like some weird sign, it started to rain, the people all ran home and I was left there to ponder my upcoming actions... It was 11pm, my truck was already packed, and I had just finished my last beer. I knew I would be driving up alone as one of my friend, Bert, had previously cancelled on account of fear of cold weather and another friend, Ernie, who needed a ride in the morning, I predicted, would never make it due to still being out and about partying till the early hours of the morning. 12am and I decided then and there to let fate handle this one. If I woke up early, I would simply slither out to my truck and make the haul to Charlotte. Morning came earlier than usual and I found myself up before my alarm clock went off. I let my dog out to do his early morning business and then decided to roll with it. Hangover apparent, I poured some day old coffee, slurped it down, jumped into the truck and rolled onwards to Tanger Outlet to wait for my friend to surprise me with anticipation and a hangover as well...as predicted he was a no show. Trucked gassed up and breakfast handled, I rolled on to Charlotte sans Bert and Ernie...(note: names were changed to protect the less than innocent)<br />
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Why was I driving to this event?...mostly out of curiosity, somewhat out of challenging the elements on a very minimal level. The Backyard Trails in Charlotte offer some very unique challenges due to the fact that they take total advantage of the urban woodlands in their very compact surroundings. They are in fact, pretty awesome. Swoopy, loopy crazy fun wrapping through a very dense little area in the Charlotte metro area. This brilliant use of minimal space had me wanting to ride more and more. So, that, along with the fact that lots of riders that shredded would be there as well as lots of beer and food afterwards made for an inviting day no matter what the weather was like. <br />
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As I was rolling to Charlotte, I ran into a freak snowstorm right outside of Columbia which caused traffic to slow. It was at this point that I considered turning around, but I kept on rolling as I had all the cold weather gear necessary for a long day in the mountains, so Charlotte would definitely not be a problem. Cold would not scare me away!<br />
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I made it to Charlotte in record time and loaded up on Starbuck's coffee. I found the starting location, registered and went back out into my truck to change. At this point I realized things were about to get real. I was layered for the first time this season and not sure what my body was going to feel like in all of this gear. As I pedaled out into the street, the extra layers made me feel sluggish and clumsy. I was definitely worried about my choice of clothing as well as the weight of my backpack. This was noted to be an all day event with 4 stages and it was encouraged to being your own food and supplies, so I did. Too much in fact....<br />
The riders meeting was brief, informational, and to the point. Before I knew it we were rolling down some neighborhood streets to a far point of the trails to a mass start shakeout point. Go was yelled and we were off! I sprinted forward only to find my gear choice was stupid low and I was spinning like a fool. I recall changing it to help with the muck and predicted slower speeds on the trail. It would help, but not here. I brought my cadence down and waited to roll into the woods. I entered the woods near mid pack and was rolling along fine until a few miles in when I felt the burning pain in my legs remind me that XC pace at this spin rate was not my thing. I ignored the pain and kept on passing people and rolling smooth. 2/3rds into the first stage and I was rolling along strong and hoping the weight of my pack would not be a factor...but then something else went wrong. My bike started getting sluggish and was rolling the wrong way in turns...my front tire was flatting out! I could not believe it! I had not had an issue like this in a while. I couldn't figure out where I had picked up anything to cause me to flat out, but here I was losing ground and exerting extra power to stay alive. I finally pulled over and tried to figure out what to do. I could not see a leak, and the pressure was still there, so I grabbed my pump and started pumping. And pumping and pumping and pumping....sigh...still pumping. I pumped while a dozen riders passed and then one wouldn't as he chatted me up and then announced he was the sweep. I panicked, pumped a little more and tore off to finish the stage. I passed about 5 riders on the way, finished and then sat there pumping some more. I was frustrated and blown out from all the pumping. Stage 2 began and no more than 100 feet into the stage, my tire starts feeling mushy again. I stop once again and start pumping....this time looking for a leak...nothing! I tear off throughout the mushy wet muddy trail and try to make the most of my day realizing I would not be racing today, just surviving. I focus on the beer at the end and hope that would be enough to get me to cheer up....it did. The weight of my pack was bearing down on me as well as it was fully loaded and really causing me pain. I tried to ignore it, but as I finished stage 2, Rich Dillen noticed my facial expressions and stated I really looked like I could use a beer. I gladly accepted and dulled the throbbing pain in my lower back. After relaxing and sorting out my bodily issues, I focused again on my now flat front tire. Should I stick a tube in there or figure things out? I knew there was Stans fluid in there...real Stans, not that pseudo-environmentally safe crap that just turns to water...So once again, I broke out my mini pump and started working it...the tire that is. I pumped it up hard and spun it listening for hissing air...then i caught it in-between people babbling all around me. The air was leaking from the valve core! It seems that the cold 35 degree temps had unseated my valve core and it needed tightening. I gave it a few twists at the stem nut and the hissing stopped! It felt good to know my tire would hold up and I would not have to slap a tube in there. I was, however, upset to lose so much ground because of an issue like this. But, another beer and all my issues were resolved. The jump line bonus stage started and I rolled down on my only attempt to style out some extra points, but as I neared the twin cannons, I slid out and almost lost all control. It was just way too muddy for me to be crazy today. I carefully made my way down the jump line with people chanting to jump everything and anything all the way down. I controlled the urge to do so and parked the bike to join the cheering section letting them know I was not ready to take on the ultra slick jump lines. As I found me a spot on the rocks, I witnessed the truly crazy and skilled riders of Charlotte take on the jumps in the worst shape possible. They all jumped, crossed up, table topped and one handed their way across the mounds of sloppy clay with style, and poise. It was impressive to watch! One rider stood out more than most and later I found out it was an old school pro BMX legend and idol to me...Mike King! He was laying out nearly flat table tops landing smoothly into a berm on the backside. He was crushing it! Another rider was pulling turn down, crossed up one handers shirtless! It was awesome stuff to watch...and the best reason I had to know I had not missed this event, besides the free beer...Stage 3 went off shortly afterwards and was the most technical by far. I went through the stage on heavy legs and sore back. Too much gear was dragging me down. I also froze up on a skinny near the end and took out another rider who was following closely behind. I was feeling rough and a little beat up. Once again, the day turned bright thanks to a beer hand up by Chris Muddiman. <br />
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A very nice IPA saved the day! I rode off again through stage 4 without a care in the world, finished, changed clothes and came back to a warm fire, good friends, delicious food, and great beer! It was a crazy day and it was all a bit foggy due to my being half awake all day, but nonetheless worth all the effort. Hanging out by the fire, I made some new friends, talked about other rides we had all done together and drank half full bottles of Old Mecklenburg's finest. I even won a new pump as a prize for being one of the participants furthest away! The prizes for the top 3 were handmade lamps and they looked awesome! Lots of schwag was tossed and none left unhappy. Afterwards, Jana and Paul offered me a place to stay the night and we explored the NODA district for a bit of dinner and then I went off to slumberland as I had to return early in the morning for family stuff....One busy day for The Backyard Experience! Can't wait till next year!!<br />
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<br />LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-4028003835684735592014-10-15T20:31:00.003-04:002014-10-15T20:56:02.432-04:00TNGA: To Mulberry Gap and Beyond!<br />
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Sitting atop Stanley Gap was a good feeling. Here I was reenergized pedaling along on my third day completely against everything my body was telling me to stop. I took one last look at the rising sun and dropped into some very nice single track. It rolled on nicely for a few miles switching back and forth with some tricky sections sprinkled in just to keep you focused. At some point I noticed a gnarly washout on a right turn which led me to believe a few riders had messed up the turn and bailed outwards to my left. Yuck! I carried onwards enjoying the feeling of not having to climb and really just getting to finally play with my bike for a while. I make it down to Cherry Log and enjoy the moment as the early morning single track descent truly made my day a positive one! Then I start pedaling onwards again into the Cohutta Wilderness. Over and through bushy head gap I trudge, reloading on water a few times here and there realizing everything I climbed before ain't nothing compared to what I was about to get into. A few times I find myself cruising along beautiful rolling stretches of country roads with the Georgia mountains offering an incredible backdrop. I love where I am currently at and am enjoying the day immensely. I open my Skittles and start to enjoy the ride. I start to get hungry as I missed dinner and breakfast was a cinnamon roll and a Kind bar washed down with filtered creek water. Yum. Finally I connect to Hwy 2 and roll into the infamous Jack's River Country Store. I park my beast, limp my way indoors, find my way to their hot breakfast sandwiches and immediately devour 2 of them with their special homeade jelly. I chase them down with more coconut juice, and feel the acidic taste of filtered post treated water leave my mouth and throat. I then munch on some chips, and drink a soda. After about 10 minutes, I load up all my fluids, grab another hot sandwich for later, pop a few more advil and get ready to roll. The lady who runs/owns the store was very pleasant to talk with and I hung out there mostly because I was trying to be polite and respectful since she really had gone out of her way to feed me when I first walked in. I also learned a lot about where I was about to pedal into and it concerned me. She claimed it was an incredible climb which can be difficult in the wrong car much less a bicycle. It was the Potato Patch climb and I was scared. So after saying my goodbyes, 20 minutes later, I was rolling again. The weather was perfect, not too hot, not too cold and not at all humid anymore! I had to make the most of this! I started pedaling across a vast expanse of valley for the next 10 miles which led me to believe this was going to be a long moderate climb, but I knew better because I had taken a moment at Jacks to look over my elevation charts and I was in for a hell of a workout. Right on target, the mountains popped upwards in front of me like a wall that kept growing and growing. It was awesome and intimidating to say the least. I went into the first climb with very little effort but it hurt everywhere. I looked up and there was a power line going almost vertical and right beside it there was a gravel road that I was supposed to climb. I could not wrap my head around it, but I trudged onwards and stopped looking up so far and just took it a little at a time. I then entered a section that I believe was called the South Fork Loop. This section was nasty mucky burly crap. I was very worried when I entered this section as I quickly assumed that the next 30 miles were going to be like this. Fortunately, I made my way through it all and found myself on clean grippy gravel. Surprisingly, my legs were responding and powering through the climbs! I don't know why, maybe it was something in that homemade jelly, but I was climbing like I had fresh legs and it felt good to push it. I started to throttle back worried that I was going to bonk heavily, but it never really came. The climb went on for hours and hours and I <br />
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knew it was going to take time and considerable effort, so I just lost myself in my thoughts and I kept going and actually held my head up regularly to enjoy the views. I stopped once at the peak and took some great photos of a vista since I knew I was about to descend into Bear Creek and onwards to Pinohti 1(P1)...Mulberry was within my sights!! As I descended down from Potato Patch 5 hours later, I realized I had missed the entrance to Bear Creek and had to do some bonus climbing to find my way again. A mile or so back up the gravel and I find the entrance gate was smashed by a giant pine tree which made it nearly invisible from the road. I had to crawl under and through this giant tree dragging my 60lb beast behind me. Once on Bear Creek Trail, I lost myself in the fun rolling down and through creek crossing after creek crossing, across great single track and even coming across people every now and then. I reloaded on water here as I had planned earlier to skip Mulberry and continue onto Chatsworth and possibly Dalton if my mind was into it. After reloading I pedaled on into P1 and experienced the effects of many riders trudging through rain soaked single track. It was a messy nasty chain throwing experience. I stopped about 10 times to clean my bike within 5 miles. Finally the overgrown single track started to pack down and my speed picked up. I raced through the rest of P1 bombed the super steep descents, loving it all and onwards into P2. As I entered P2, I crossed a nice clean stream and reloaded my water once again as the mud slogging earlier took a toll on my reserves. Again I was off and actually enjoying this section of trail as it simply snaked along and had great flow. I came across some riders who started cheering on the TNGA guy! It felt great to hear the encouragement and cheers and really had me racing forward to get to Dalton! P2 went on and on and on and as I usually don't complain about never-ending single track, I really wanted to find Mulberry Gap. Ironically, it was only about 10 miles to Mulberry Gap and finally I was pedaling up Conasauga Rd! I was stoked, energized and extremely please with my pace for the day. At this point I should have stopped and pedaled up to Mulberry Gap to rest, but my judgement was impaired with visions of reaching Dalton by nightfall. As I pedaled into P3, I stopped briefly to check my quick <br />
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notes. My notes had an ETA to Chatsworth at 5mph in about 2-3 hours. I could handle that. No Problem! As I started up P3, I immediately started to doubt my brilliant plans. My legs burned with every upwards switchback I climbed. These were some steep off camber switch backs. I was starting to feel the burn, but just thought I needed to work through it. About an hour and a half later I crossed over Hwy 52 climbed a bit more and finally found relief in a little bit of downwards descent on single track that turned into doubletrack. I was excited because the elevation charts showed this as down, down, down into Chatsworth. Thanks to Mother Nature, I was thrown the ultimate curveball. Darkness settled in as I started to settle in and enjoy the rolling hills. Then I came across a few downed trees which I had to quickly dismount and hop over. I got back on and kept rolling. A few more trees showed up. And more trees. and more trees....I was starting to get worried...very worried. It was already close to 4 hours and I was still hopping trees on what was supposed to be a 3 hour tour....I kept pedaling forward concerned about what I was encountering. Suddenly, I came up on a tree so massive I could not figure out a way to easily get around or under it. It covered up the entire trail and hung off the edge of an embankment. I was stumped and quickly got off my bike to scout out a way around this beast of a tree. No sooner had I walked around and down that I looked back and realized that I had lost track of my bike! I panicked and immediately backtracked to where I thought it to be. It was close by, but it took me a few moments to relocate it! Everything was on my bike! EVERYTHING! I then had to plan out how to scout away by placing my road blinky on top of the bike as well as carrying the GPS in hand just in case I could not see the blinky. After I had my system down, I had to scout around the tree sometimes for a few hundred feet. Then I had to figure out how to get my bike to the other side. I physically hoisted my bike a number of times straight over the tops of some of the trees thanks to the paracord I had packed. It was more effort than I was expecting to put forth that night. At one point I scouted around the tree as I could see where others had gone and found myself utterly lost yet parallel to the main route. After about 30 minutes of going back and forth, I realized I was on another trail parallel to the main route but I could not see it since the trees had pushed me down a level on the ridge. I then backtracked to the original tree that had pushed me down, clambered around the tree and then physically rock climbed my way back up onto the main trail route. After that incident I was either going straight over or under the trees. I hoisted the beast about 10 times and then the trees cleared up and I was back under way...5 hours later. I then found myself flying along hoping for a clean exit out of this pit of trees until I looked down at the GPS and my dot started moving radically away from the main route. I was so tired and frustrated at this point that I just stopped and sat there in the woods. I initially started to setup camp and sleep it out since the spot was not a bad one, but I noticed I was running low on water. So many trees, so much effort, hydration was paramount. So, I put the blinky back on my bike and started hiking with GPS and cue sheets in hand. Back and forth I went looking for this entrance to a jeep trail that just did not seem to exist. I yelled a lot of angry words out there in the dark, but they were all justified. 45 minutes later, I have a eureka moment as I blast my headlamp for one final look at the woods and voila, there is a narrow entrance to another overgrown trail much like the Hickory nut entrance earlier via Tray Gap. I start to realize my night vision sucks. I carefully start down this path and realize it is a little off from the GPS, but they both zig zag at the same places, so I pedal along slowly at first until they finally line up and I start crushing out some miles. After some time, the jeep trail opens up and turns into super nice single track and I try to enjoy it, but I am so tired and getting thirsty so I just focus on pedaling and listening for a stream. I also know I am close to an exit point soon, so I pedal harder. I go down deep into a valley and find a small stream which I unknowingly share with a copperhead(?) as I am reloading my <br />
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bottles. The snake pays me no mind and slithers off. I load 2 bottles and continue on. I find myself climbing out of this trench and quickly finish off my 2 bottles and pop out onto a road up near Chatsworth! Elated, and very much grateful to be out of that quagmire of never-ending wrong turns, I start pedaling towards the lights ahead which can only be a gas station! As I am pedaling towards them I am buzzed by a patrol car not once, but 3 times as he flies past me. He seems to slow down and look for erratic behavior, but after what I just went through, I am on point and pedaling a slow steady line. He rolls off and I pedal towards my next feed zone. As I approach the gas stations, I make the sad discovery that they are both closed for the night! Seriously? It wasn't even close to midnight yet....or was it? I look at my watch and it shows quarter to 1am! Wow... 21 hours in the saddle. What a day. So I sat there, thirsty and tired and made the snap decision to pedal 5 miles up towards Chatsworth and hope that something is open there to feed me. I pedal onwards and my legs and arms start to shut down from the amount of effort I have been demanding with no liquid to spare. As I approach town, I spy an old run down restaurant and quickly pedal around to the back to look for a water faucet. I find one and it works! I plop down to drink from it, but stop short as the handle is covered in sludge. I pull out my filter and fill it up and drink from it instead. After 20 minutes sitting in the dark in the back of some rundown building drinking as much water as I can stomach, I pedal on into town to look for food and more liquid. I come across a gas station and quickly fill up on orange juice, water, ravioli, frank and beans, and a turkey and swiss sandwich consuming all of this in the parking lot sprawled out and exhausted. I take a few bags of chips for later and reload all essential liquids. I pedal back to a motel I had seen and check into a room as I just didn't feel Dalton happening that night. I wish I had continued onwards to Dalton as I did not realize I was almost there! So, I check into this creepy motel along with a creepy front desk person and the room takes an hour to cool down and the bed is riddled with actual bedbugs. I would have been better off sleeping in the woods! Too tired to relocate, I shower up(great water pressure), clean my kit, hang them carefully to dry, tear all the bed sheets off, layout my emergency bivy, pack all my stuff for an early exit and fall into a deep sleep. It really was a deep sleep. I slept until about 9am and slowly make my way out of the roach motel back to my original exit point of the course and have breakfast at the gas station whereupon I deal with my chafing issues once again now that the adrenaline has worn off, I can feel it all. Then off I go to Dalton with a whimper and a smile knowing that the only thing left to conquer is the Snake...and I know the Snake well.<br />
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<a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/187021058" target="_blank">Chatsworth for the Night</a>LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-91565825609708146702014-10-15T16:44:00.000-04:002014-10-15T20:55:03.791-04:00TNGA: Iron Bridge, Visions of Mulberry and the big rain...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I awaken as my alarm goes off gently pulling me back into the reality that is TNGA. Swollen ankles subsided, arms reporting new pains, back pain reminding me I am alive and fully awake. I reach for some water and guzzle it down. I quickly realize I am now in a race against time, the weather, and my rapidly deteriorating body, so I get up scurry over to the bathroom, grab my still damp chamois and jersey and switch into them before my body protests the cold and wet. I am very happy to see that I have packed up everything already and the only thing left to do is put my thermal layers back into my seat bag. I pack it in tightly, finish off any food leftover from last night's feeding frenzy, clean up any junk laying around, check for anything I may be leaving behind and push my bike towards the door. In my haste and anxious tunnel vision to get moving, I forget about Derek, who is sleeping soundly not even trying to make an effort to get rolling yet. I whisper to him that it is time to get rolling and he mumbles something about not really being able to go further, and that he just needs a little more time to reassess his current condition. I truly understand his state as I am ignoring my bodily urges to simply stop as well. Nonetheless, I am grateful for his hospitality and lay out a $20 on the dresser and jokingly thank him for a wonderful night. He forces a laugh at me and rolls over and goes back to sleep. I shove off out the door into the brisk cool morning air awake with a new sense of awareness. It is like an entire new experience as I silently roll along out of Helen not knowing what may be in store for me today. As I reach the outskirts of Helen, I stop in at a gas station and load up on coconut juice, big pickles, pickled sausage and a bag of chips. Weird what my body craves at times like this. I also bump into Celso with the same look in his eyes as Derek. He mentions that Helen may be as far as he is going.<br />
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He tells me a group of riders are considering quitting but are going to have breakfast first. I quickly depart as I do not want to entertain any notions of quitting so early in the race. Yes, it almost seemed like this ride was now turning into a race. More personal than against others, but most importantly, I was in a race to finish this beast! I speed away from all the activity back to the solitude of my bike and the climbs before me. The next challenge on the menu was Hog Pen's Gap. This was a road climb and was unexpectedly steep. It took a slow steady constant grind to conquer that climb with my mental fortitude intact. Andy Schleck's name was painted on some of the portions of the road as I found out later this was a part of his training grounds. I groaned, moaned and squirmed from the intense pressure of hauling my 60+lb knobby tired bike up this wall of concrete. The best thing to see upon cresting a climb such as this was the trucker's steep descent warning sign. I finally reached the pinnacle of this climb and screamed down the other side flying past Vogel State Park in the twilight hours. I was feeling good after that insane warmup. I started to encounter light traffic as I started climbing my way out again up towards Wolf Pen Gap. It is another road climb for quite a ways before turning onto a gravel road. At one point, I tore into a Lemon Lara bar which I was savoring and enjoying, but before I could finish my mini meal, a swarm of bees decided they wanted it more! Something about the way it smelled was driving them crazy! I sped up, swerved a bunch, swatted at them and thought I had lost them, but they returned with a vengeance. One stung me on the chest and the other tried to sting me on my leg, but got caught in the fabric and I flicked it off violently. I kept pedaling and could feel the burn of the bee sting on my chest. More bees kept coming, so I threw the Lara bar at them and yelled that they could have it. I stashed the wrapped deep in my feedbag for fear the wrapper would continue to draw them but they went for the bar and left me alone. Mental note: no more Lara bars. As I was climbing the road portion of Wolf Pen, I realized it was getting much hotter out. I did a quick mental check on my water and all was acceptable. <br />
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Onwards I pedaled up some more ridiculously steep roads hoping for a break sooner rather than later. I finally reached Duncan Ridge which was gravel and climbed up some more. I was getting hotter and hotter and it was a dense humid kinda hot, very much like Charleston midday in the summer. I knew this meant I needed to keep drinking and pacing carefully. Bonking was going to occur. I kept an eye on my rate of speed and trudged onwards breathing in the thick heated air all around me. It was really working me into a death march. The climbs at this point were just plain ugly. I even tried hike a biking for a little while only to re-discover how much heavier my rig was when I pushed it rather than pedaled it. So I reached deep inside, sucked down some more electrolyte rich liquid and pedaled upwards to the summit of Wolf Pen Gap. There I found a double track downhill which I started to fly down, but almost wrecked because it seems the heat was shutting my body down to the point that I almost fell asleep in the descent. I nod off and quickly awaken, grab a handful of brakes, skid to a halt, dismount and throw myself into a bit of shade on the side of the hill. I pull my bike towards me and quickly start drinking, and forcefully eating. I scarf a Caffeinated Gu, chase it down with liquid, and then tear open my pickled sausage to handle my caloric deficit. No sooner had I taken a big bite out of the pickled meat, did I realize it was not what I was expecting. I expected a tasty salty, vinegary greasy treat, when instead all I experienced was salty, burning searing pain. It seems my pickled sausage was also 300% HOTTER than the original! This was a ultra spicy pickled sausage! Damn my luck! I chased the pain down with more liquid. I was about to throw the meat away when my brain reported that it actually enjoyed the real food. So there I was, middle of the day, in a heat wave, exhausted, dizzy eating a spicy pickled sausage and not even able to descend without getting dangerous. After some time choking down my food, I washed it down with the remainder of my bottled water. All I had left was my 1L bladder of water, so I was careful not to hit that unless I needed it. I mounted back up and rolled along enjoying the cooler air while moving. My head stopped spinning and my senses came back to normal as I started to pickup speed. Before long I was flying along and then just like that I popped out off Duncan Ridge onto a countryside road. I stop at a convenience store and reload on all my liquids and then reward myself with a few cream sodas and a bag of salty chips. I enjoy the moment in the sun, but know I have some major miles to put in before relaxing, so I pedal off along this road enjoying the feeling of being rehydrated and balanced for yet another moment. I start to realize that I might make Mulberry Gap before dark and look forward to losing some time there and possibly getting some sleep there as well. A few more miles and the skies turn dark. The source of the massive amounts of humidity makes itself known. I know I am in for a hell of a ride as I pedal onwards under dark and ominous clouds. I feel the first <br />
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few raindrops and it feels so good. The cool water after being baked inside and out feels wonderful. The rain comes down hard and after a bit chills me off, so I pull out my rain jacket and keep pushing forward. I pass some riders hiding under an old barn and wonder why they aren't enjoying this break from the heat. About 10 more miles and the rain is following me the entire way. I don't mind it, but I start to realize I have a new problem. It seems the rain has washed away all my chamois butter and I am chafing with every stroke of the cranks. The pain becomes something very real and I alternate sitting and standing positions. I stop and reapply chamois butter which helps for a few minutes, but it is evident the damage has already been done. I have 2 gashes along my sit bones and they are screaming for attention. As I pedal along, I now realize I am going to have a rough remainder of the ride. I am pissed and upset with myself for not listening to my body sooner. I take a few advil, chase it down with a small coke I had stashed away and try to overcome the injury. The flattish road along this section is very scenic and I lose myself enjoying the sights. More rain and I am a bit more than soaked to the bone. I find my way to Iron Bridge and find it is closed and I am super hungry, chafed and exhausted from my bout with heat exhaustion earlier. I notice that Iron Bridge is also a Hostel and poke about until I find the owner. The rate is ~ $10, so I decide to use it as a quick break from the elements as well as to assess my posterior damage. The hostel owner is really cool and offers to make me a sandwich. I accept as he goes off to the kitchen. I shower, clean my bib shorts, hang them to dry and proceed to hang out in front as the sun has popped out again. Out of nowhere, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/colin.campbell.50951101" target="_blank">Colin Campbell</a> rolls up and excitedly tries to get me to go along with him. I explain I need a little time to get my strength up after my 1-2 punch between here and Helen. He understands, hangs out for a bit, eats a sandwich with me and then rolls off around 6pm. My plans are to rest a bit, eat, then roll out later tonight. Thanks to Facebook and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/RedMolly7" target="_blank">Red Molly</a>, I have more information about where the heck I am and where good eats are. My phone shorts out from the extreme humidity shortly after and I find myself sitting there in the hostel quite tired and sore. I decide to take a quick nap before heading up to a nearby restaurant to eat, but it seems my body needs more rest than I imagined. I close my eyes around 7 and next thing you know it is 4am! I missed dinner! I am in shock at the time warp I just created. I pack up all my gear, slither into my still damp bib shorts & jersey, carry my bike down from the hostel and pedal off into the still of the morning darkness. I am still amazed at how long I slept but feel refreshed and ready for action. I pedal off to find Stanley Gap. Up another super steep road climb to connect to an even steeper gravel road which I believe was Aska Rd. I find my way to some double track which led to Stanley Gap, but not before missing my right hand turn several times adding up to about 30 minutes of lost time backtracking. After realizing where I needed to turn, the pitch went beyond hike a bike steep. I was grabbing onto trees and pushing and heaving my beast of a bike to the top. Once at the top, I was able to take in an incredible sunrise which left me very humble and privileged to be here at this very moment. The air was cool and silent and the sun was welcoming me to the top before the awesome downhill. Today was going to be a good day....<br />
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<a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/187020965" target="_blank">Leaving Helen</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/187021003" target="_blank">Iron Bridge or Bust</a>LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-16033103581557128442014-09-22T17:37:00.000-04:002014-12-19T17:38:09.347-05:00HellHole 2014 ~ "the year of the volunteer"<br />
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So I had just come back from a few major events and I was feeling the burn. HellHole Gravel grind came up so quickly on the tail end of Pisgah Monster CX that I truly did not feel prepared mentally and most definitely physically. I decided that this year, I would offer up my help as a volunteer. Patrick mentioned that I should help out on day 2 as moto support and I agreed with my task on day 1 to start marking the course for day 2 shortly after the riders rolled out. James Cooper, Marshall Brown and Andre Pope were coming down to stay at my house. I also had mentioned to Garth Prosser a while back at the Pisgah Hub that he was welcome to stay at my house for the race if he chose to come down. Surprisingly, he actually remembered and took me up on it which turned into a full house of racers for the weekend. <br />
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In wanting to feed the racers before the main event, I cooked up a massive breakfast meal, Steve Sperry style, to load up the group before their 75 mile day in the saddle. The breakfast meal consisted of bacon, scrambled eggs, pancakes, fruit, cheese, orange juice, coffee, more bacon...the works! Early mornings go by super quickly and before long, we were all rolling down Hwy 41 towards Witherbee and the race start. We were greeted by a strong group of racers present and ready to tackle the great weather and nicely packed gravel roads of the Francis Marion. There was a strong representation from Myrtle Beach and Wilmington areas with very little serious 2 day Charleston representation as I hear they didn't like the bumpiness of the gravel on their soft roadie assess(you know who I am talking to). Although, I will mention that the MTP Velo team was well represented by Anne, Elisabeth, and surprinsgly, Chris Morrell was out there in full force comeback mode. Alice Thomasson was even there as a followup to Pisgah Monster CX which was just awesome to witness! Jeb Brigman was representing Ride Bikes. Greg Jone of Ride Bikes was there representing his bike shop and rode a strong race! Always good to see bike shop owners getting out there and racing the local races. <br />
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Garth, who is pro level, was up front and ready to race. I was excited to actually sit back and observe this weekend as I always like to watch a good race. I knew I had some time to kill as some of Day 2 course marking overlaps on Day 1, so I cannot modify some things until the riders are past a certain point. With that said, I rolled out with the pack upon the start of the race and paced James Cooper for the first few miles. He had a solid pace and was looking incredibly composed for someone who doesn't race these things often. I worried that his pace might be a little too aggressive and that me might be holding it pegged because I was rolling alongside, so I gave him a quick few final words and let him continue on his own. I then set myself as a crossing guard at Hwy 41 at which point Andre caught up and we both strolled a little further out and collected about a dozen or so water bottles each from racers which had been tossed in the bumpy lumpy gravel of the Hell Hole region. <br />
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Upon returning, I immediately jumped in my truck with Andre and Marshall (who I believe had a mechanical?) and we sped off to mark the course. Marking the course started out as fairly simple work, but upon realizing the amount of miles that 75 really is and whereabouts in the Palmetto trail markers would have to be place, the task became daunting to say the least. 4 hours in, my trio developed cabin fever and mutiny was muttered at times with plans to oust me from my own vehicle as the task was weighing heavily on all of us. I even considered returning and finishing the task later on that evening, but playing host to a houseful of racers meant that was not an option. I struggled to speed along and finish marking the course, but knew it was going to take at least 3 more hours. Andre became hangry and comically volatile while Marshall , delirious from the days events, muttered incoherent musings and laughed wildly at Andre's worsening condition. <br />
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I almost lost Andre to the Francis Marion that day as he refused to get back in the truck at one point, but after we all realized we had to finish the job at hand, we finally got things back on track and our task was completed. Upon returning to the start/finish, we discovered that everyone had already finished, changed, and let the area for the day and our group was awaiting us at the Tattooed Moose. We raced over there but not before stopping at the house to pickup wifey and feed the Andre, which held things over until we arrived at the Moose. We learned that James Cooper had taken 1st place in the 1 day 75 mile event and James Turner from Wilmington was hot on his tracks to an impressive 2nd place on a unicycle! Awesome out of area representation! Garth had come in second and was out touring a plantation home somewhere and Alice had crushed her category as well! Everyone was having a great day! So after a few beers and some food at the Moose, the 1 day crowd headed back home and I went back to my home to prepare for day 2. I still had to get breakfast prepped for the next morning as well as get my moto running, but night came quickly and the morning came quicker. <br />
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Like the morning before, I had a decent breakfast spread laid out, but hangovers from myself and the Day 1 crowd were apparent and we dragged a bit more before heading out the door. As everyone headed out to either go home or go race some more, I went to check on my trusty Kawasaki which had not been started in about a months time. She was very hesitant getting started and bogged heavily for a long time. I finally set the choke on and drove up to the Jamestown gas station and loaded up on fresh gas which had her purring normally once again. Day 2 was a nice treat as I was able to lead out the racers and basically roll ahead and check for unforeseen obstacles. It was an incredible vantage point to see how the strongest racers do battle. They made it look effortless and I was very much impressed. Garth looked very much in control of the crowd and you could see him talking to the other riders at the high pace they were setting like it was not an issue. It was cool to see certain strategies play themselves out and to notice when attacks would happen. Overall I really learned a lot from moto pacing the group that I would not have understood if I were racing in the mix. Hopefully someday I may be able to apply that knowledge. Until then the race turned to Garth's favor with his only rival flatting out and never being able to catch back up, so the victory was shared and he nabbed grand champion. I was so tired, I don't really recall the rest of the day's events except for returning home, showering up and enjoying some down time on the back porch discussing a dozen different subjects with Mr Prosser. Overall, it was a good weekend of racing, new friendships, old friendships and lots of cool bikes. Can't wait till next year!<br />
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<br />LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-74444313207919202762014-09-15T16:08:00.000-04:002014-12-19T16:20:36.698-05:00Pisgah Monster CX 2014 ~ "Suffering with a view"<br />
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Once again, I found myself getting ready for one of the more scenic, fun, and enjoyable gravel races of the year. <a href="http://www.pisgahproductions.com/events/pisgah-monster-cross/about/" target="_blank">Pisgah Monster CX</a>, hosted by Pisgah Productions, is a gravel race up through select forest service gravel roads leading up to the Blue Ridge Pkwy. It is a very challenging race as the climbs are steep and the gravel descents are loose and twisty. I seem to do a little better every year and this year I was not counting on anything spectacular as I had just completed TNGA a few weeks prior. I also did not have a bike built up for the event as my super carbon gravel bike turned out to be a flop since it could only fit 32c tires at most. <br />
This time, it was a little different...there were others from Charleston coming along! So cool! For a few years now, I have been making the trip up to this race by myself and it is fun when you get there as I get to see many of my Asheville and Greenville friends. This time, though, the MTP Velo team was rolling up in full force! Michael Bannister handled the logistics on a place to stay in Saluda and everyone was pumped to attack the gravel climbs in the beautiful Pisgah mountains. The <br />
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I finally settled on converting my Salsa Selma since it would be the quickest and easiest to do in the short time window. I added 9 speed gearing and turned her into a 1x9 with Salsa Cowbell drop bars rigid with my Iron Cross Stans wheels. I was actually very impressed with the build and am considering this setup with beefier wheels for other bikepacking excursions. Regardless, I had a bike setup, my fitness was still in the toilet and everyone was pumped and nervous since they had never attacked the gravel in a vertical sense. It was going to be an epic day for sure. Not only did the MTP Velo team head up, but a few close friends of mine, Ed and Alice Thomasson had finally decided close to last minute to also commit to the race. I was pumped! We had a huge group and it was going to be a blast! Race time came up quick and I found myself rolling up to the mountains with Ed and Alice. It was a nice non-eventful trip up to the house in Saluda as we made it by early evening. Everyone scrambled to find a bed and I got stuck with Bannister ;) . I thought he was going to be a royal pain in the pass to bunk with, but I found him to be an ideal roommate regardless of the flatulence wars that occurred. That night we were treated to one of the most incredible meals by Mr Bannister that I have ever had the privilege to consume pre-race. Libations were consumed lightly with anticipation that everyone would perform well the following day. I went to bed filled to the gills with good food and lots of water to ensure optimal hydration for what was to come the next day. <br />
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Morning came too soon and everyone was already up and scrambling around to get to the start line. Steve Sperry had cooked up a breakfast meal fit for a king and was very much in tune with properly loading up a racer for the main event. Alice looked very worried as this was the most difficult bike challenge she had ever attempted. I was also worried for her as I was not sure how she would fare out there in the bowels of Pisgah. Nonetheless, she had Ed with her and he was more than capable of guiding and supporting her as he knows how to ride smart and strong. So off we went to the start barely awake and my belly still full from the previous nights meal. As we entered the parking lot, we realized we were a bit early which was great news as we could use the time to ease our butterflies. I immediately found Mike Pierce, struck up a conversation with him and found he was running sweep this year once again. I privately pointed out Alice to him and asked him to please keep an eye out for her and to simply point her down the mountain if and when she wants to quit the race. He told me not to worry and he would look out for them if they lagged back. Good friends are hard to come by and Mike is one of those good friends. <br />
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Ed, Alice, Patrick, Michael, Jane, Chris, Anne, and Elisabeth all spread themselves out throughout the starting pack and finally Eric Wever gave us the signal. The start was a bit more abrupt than in previous years due mostly to the great weather that morning. I chose to start upper mid pack and worked hard to find my pace early on in the race. As we tore up 276 towards the first gravel road, the pace resembled that of a road race with lots of drafting and pace setting going on. Upon entering the woods at 477, the front of the pack made an initial attack and I paid heavily to stay on the wheel in front of me. I could not believe that the pace was picking up this early in the game, but my legs were fresh and the bike was fast and nimble, so I continued onwards. The initial part of 477 is punchy steep but levels out very fast, so I worked hard through the first part and held onto the pack upon the level. I felt as if I actually had a chance this year based on all the base miles and long rides I had experienced thus far, but a little thing called reality set in and I once again found my place in the pecking order as the pitch grew steeper and steeper. At first, I was answering each and every attack up the steeper sections with ease, but the gearing that I had chosen was still very tall for the very long day of hectic spinning that lay before me. Not only that, but my legs let me know that they were not used to the pace I was trying to set. After about the 6th mile, I realized I needed to find a different wheel to follow if I was going to survive all day and my excited rally came to a massive slowdown. It felt as if I was being pulled backwards through a vacuum as everyone I was chasing started to pull away. Surprisingly, some very strong guys were still coming up and by me which let me know I was going out too hard. So I set back, found a steady pace and lifted my head a bit to enjoy the scenery of the Pisgah woods. After about 30 minutes of this, I see a familiar red head tailing a pack flying by on my left. Anne had her head down and was very much putting in some work. They went by me too fast to let her know that she was going out too hard...or was she? I really didn't have clue...was everyone just that much stronger and prepared for this race? Should I be cutting back my pace so soon in the race? Too many questions, but only one clear answer: my legs set this pace. I couldn't do anything but pedal at this pace. It hurt to go too much harder and it was too soon in my opinion to ignore the pain. Therefore, I crept forward at my slow ass pace since my gearing was maxed out and I was feeling a bit low for a little while. I really didn't let it get to me because I knew that this was the right plan of action at the moment.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRQIUDIa8bMVH_2TFb23tf5-d4uXPiEIvzJD8Z6iYB3hJZ88XKCyxHOSRZK564XPGRMuM9mszT7ERtgGv1LkdDBjkzfC6epLrnA7dxVLtpLI6Wqqv4h2tcnSHPPn2TWSuJPG2Mk2mc6Ac/s1600/IMG_20140914_120749.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRQIUDIa8bMVH_2TFb23tf5-d4uXPiEIvzJD8Z6iYB3hJZ88XKCyxHOSRZK564XPGRMuM9mszT7ERtgGv1LkdDBjkzfC6epLrnA7dxVLtpLI6Wqqv4h2tcnSHPPn2TWSuJPG2Mk2mc6Ac/s1600/IMG_20140914_120749.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a> After a little more time, I hear Bannister come up heckling me from behind as well. He seemed in strong spirits and very positive as he passed me. I mentioned to him how I would love to have a few more gears to match his cadence, but he went by so quickly, I could only admire the classic Rock Lobster he was rolling for merely a few scant moments. Alone at the back of the pack again, I took a few sips of my water and trudged forward. The gravel started to pitch steeply and I found myself concerned that I might have to get off and walk to shake out my lead legs. As I neared a massive pitch, I found Michael working on his Lobster embroiled in a chain suck war which I wanted no part of. He mentioned he had everything under control and I pedaled onwards. As the 7th mile approached, the pitch went flat and then downwards or some fun descending action. This is where I excel, so I forgot about using brakes and just went for it. I was cruising down this gravel at a pretty aggressive pace and quickly came up on Anne who looked a bit unsure of herself on the tricky rolling gravel, but thats a good thing. Better to know your current limits than to test them here and find out the hard way. I sped past her shouting out that I am sure I would see her again at the next climb. I popped out onto 276 for a short road burst, only to connect to 1206/Yellow Gap road for a bit more extreme downhill klunker fun until the pitch went up again...straight up. It was painful, but I found my legs again and my pace evened out and I was back again climbing strong and steady like back in Georgia. I was happy to be back in this mode as I was concerned that I was going to be woefully working all day with no fun factor. This positive state of mind kept me chugging along until I neared the Blue Ridge Pkwy, but not before Patrick Lackey came up and passed me. I was in shock! Was I actually ahead of Patrick? Much to my surprise it was only a fluke because he had followed someone ahead of him off course and it had cost him a few miles backtracking. Even so, I was surprised to be anywhere near him in this race as I had already estimated him to be 1/4 of the way across the Blue Ridge. He sped past me mutter some crap about not having Joel beat him and motored onwards never to be seen again. I laughed out loud and kept my self occupied with eating, hydrating, and keeping pressure on the pedals. My gearing choice was tough and I stood up pedaled the page majority of the upper 1/4 nearing the entrance to the Blue Ridge. The grades at this point were in the 12-15% range and it was very apparent. I was very relieved to finally be on the Blue Ridge Pkwy and motored forward to a short while before the effort of my labors let me know just how much I had pushed it coming up that last climb. My legs got pissed and my breathing got shallow and I had about 4 riders drafting me not wanting to help out with the pull. I pedaled up near the Pisgah Inn and pulled off and let them go only to hear if I was ok to which I replied yes, just got tired of doing all the work which they shrugged off. I was, in fact, not alright. My legs were screaming, not cramping, just really heavy again. My power level was zapped, so I popped in some caffeinated gum, downed a gel, chugged some water with a few advil in it and continued onwards after a 2 minute break. The next 10 miles saw a ton of seasoned road riders zip by me and I had a hard time finding my legs again. The beautiful scenery kept my mind occupied and I remembered once again why I do this race. I love coming up here to ride, race, visit, motor along....whatever. It is simply another world altogether. If I had to be suffering, then this is the place to do it in. Suffering with a view! As 276 went by, I wondered how Ed and Alice were doing...had I made a mistake of encouraging them to partake in this event? Would they hate me for recommending it? Worse, would they hate Pisgah? Lots of time to think can be a double edged sword. Regardless, I reassured myself that they knew what there were doing and if all else failed, Mike would be there somewhere to "sweep" them back to safety. So I picked up my pace certain that somewhere ahead was a fun, fast, furious downhill and I was going to find it. Sure enough as the pitch grew steeper, and my spirits sank a bit due to the pain in my lower back returning from turning over such a tall gear, Steve Sperry, Elisabeth's husband, drives past me and lets me know I have about a 45 minute gap on the group overall and if I needed anything. I was about to reply that I did not need that information floating about in my overcrowded head, but I was craving a banana and a mini coke, so we made plans to connect within the next few miles. I climbed hard and steady and finally found Steve and David Champagne( Jane West's bf) running support for the crew. Steve was on point and really knew how to handle me forcing me to eat in front of him to know I had consumed as well as stocking me up with extra food for the remainder of the ride. I was in good hands, and before I knew it I was rolling away from them with fresh legs and a new supply of reserve power. I worked extra hard to reach 215 which was a few miles further up the Pkwy, and then I knew the race was almost over, the massive final descent was upon me. I dropped in like a free rider rolling into a massive banked turn. I opened it up and let the bike scream along. I hit 40+ mph down this stretch and caught up to and passed many of the roadies that had crushed me on the climbs. It felt good to be this far and this strong. I powered through the flat sections and tucked in and enjoyed the wind on my face feeling the reality of existence and absolution which enveloped me in the thin veins of Pisgah. As I neared the bottom of the descent, I passed the final rest stop which I now regret not stopping at. It was the Pisgah Hub crew dressed up as mad mariachi maniacs. They were handing out tacos and hydration. I really missed a good stop, but was too caught up in the desire for completion and the finish line beer and burrito. So onwards I struggled through the sandy loose packed gravel climbs leading back across to Davidson river from Indian creek. It was messy in places, but I knew the area well and could really gauge my efforts. In a short amount of time, I knew I was nearing the fish hatchery and opened up the throttle once again...only to sputter and cough a few miles further down the road and have it witnessed my a roadie who had been trying to catch me for the past 5 miles. He mentioned for me to get on his wheel, but I had nothing in the tank to hang on and thanked him for the pull offer. I dropped back down to my own speed and crawled to the finish where I then had to use my remaining bit of energy to hop the finish line barriers. Fun stuff! 70.1 miles, 5 hours and 46 minutes and another sub six Pisgah Monster CX came to a close. I was tired, but not defeated and downing a few burritos and beers within minutes after my finish. Patrick had finished not too far ahead of me, but enough to reflect the amount of effort he had put in that day. <br />
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Everyone else came in shortly after I had mostly due to my bonking near the fish hatchery, minutes accumulate quickly when one is against the wall. Ed and Alice came in several hours after I did, but thanks to Eric and his amazing group of volunteers, I was updated regularly on their status and continued efforts to complete their own challenge. That night we once again dined on an endless supply of pasta, shrimp, chicken, and vegetables all of this washed down by some of the finest beers we could manage to get ahold of. It was good to be back among friends and fellow bike lunatics... <br />
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After a wonderful nights sleep in Saluda once again. Ed, Alice, and I wandered back up to Hendersonville and over to the Waffle House since the Pisgah Hub was not yet open and Ed wanted to buy bike stuff. We met up with Mike Pierce and devoured some greasy morning breakfast vittles. Afterwards, we headed back over to the Pisgah Hub and embarked upon an unplanned all day drinking session at the bar inside. We closed the place down. Thats how much we love the Hub! Looking forward to next year! <br />
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<br />LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-49337032531575121672014-08-23T08:00:00.000-04:002014-10-15T20:53:37.568-04:00TNGA: The Push to Helen...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So there I was ....pedaling onward up the side of Highway 28, with a million thoughts racing through my mind. My thoughts kept racing back to the last minute choices I had made leaving vital gear behind, worried that it would present itself as a poor choice later in my adventure. I kept trying to compartmentalize and develop a scheme to keep myself focused on the task at hand: get to Helen. Earlier in July, during my desktop preparation phase, I spent a solid day analyzing the route via GPS, maps, others blogs, Karlos' strategy guide and cue sheets. This was all in an effort to summarize my goals into smaller goals/milestones. My first major effort was to get to Helen and I gave that a timeframe of 12-15 hours. I guess looking back, that truly was a very optimistic timeframe based on my rookie status. I put everything in my milestone checklist on a timeframe of an average of 5mph average based on estimated miles to reach each checkpoint. This did not factor in elevation delays nor mechanicals. As I pedaled along those first road miles, a dozen names and faces were swimming through my head. Asa, Colin, Celso, Derek, Chris, Drew, Curtis, so many strong riders, so many cool bikes and bike packing setups. I wanted about a week to go over each of their bikes and geek out on the setups. Surprisingly, I met a few riders who had completed the Tour Divide recently. This in the bike packing world is kind of the Holy Grail of major accomplishments. It goes from Canada to Mexico down the middle of the United States. So much respect for the persistence to ride so far...I was riding with giants! One thing I noticed was a lot of riders running Wolftooth GC 40 and 42 tooth gear upgrades. This had me a bit concerned as I was already feeling the burn on my 1x9 setup with my lowest gear being a 36t. What is ironic was that the 12/36t cassette was a last minute addition thanks to <a href="https://www.facebook.com/greg.w.jones.5?fref=ts" target="_blank">Greg Jones</a> at <a href="http://ridebikes.net/" target="_blank">Ride Bikes</a> who handled it very priority for me as I had given up on finding a lower range cassette to climb the mountains and planned on running the 11/34t cassette currently installed. My only real testing on this gearing choice had been made on our local bridge, the Ravenel, so in reality I was going in blind. It is amazing that even though I was feeling the burn, those 2 extra teeth really made a huge difference in tackling monster climbs. So, my mind went back to my average speed and my pace and I made a quick observation that I was going way too fast for my anticipated output. I had discussed this with several of my close friends and TNGA veteran finishers, Mark and Mike who both stressed for me to ride my own ride and not go off the start too hard and simply allow those who wanted to race to go ahead. This turned into my mantra, ride my own ride. This is a ride not a race, I mumbled repeatedly. I truly abandoned all hope as we made that first turn off the pavement onto the gravel roads leading to Dillard. My heart sank as reality set in and I realized this was going to be really, really hard based on my gearing choice and overall weight of my bike. I played a good poker face, because a few around me mentioned how relaxed I seemed, as I jokingly replied I just haven't woken up yet...ask me again in 3-4 days I said. Inside, I was terrified of the unknown, running through a hundred worst case scenarios over and over, and more awake than I had ever been in my life. Those first few miles climbing were the hardest miles I did the entire route, mostly because they forced me to handle my emotions and focus on forward movement. I finally convinced myself that everything was going to be fine and that I had everything I needed on my bike. As I settled into a relaxed pace, I noticed that all of this time I was going up, up, and more up! It seemed never-ending and this was only the first 10 miles! OMG, it was steeper than practically anything I had attacked in Pisgah on the heaviest setup I had ever rolled. As the miles rolled on, I started to come back on riders who had passed me! This was either a very bad sign or a sign that my strategy was accurate. As I passed an unknown rider who was having early problems from the climbing, I realized my legs had opened up and felt fantastic. I was riding in the saddle and expending energy very efficiently, only standing up to climb in the punchier sections of the gravel. Another few miles in and I roll up on a few of my fellow yurt mates who had already started hike a biking which I knew at this point in an endeavor like this was not a good sign...Rode a while with Bill Bailey who was pedaling, but looking like he had throttled back after an earlier hard effort. Colin also came up and matched my cadence so we shared a few early miles together talking about trying to stick together. I initially thought this would be good, but seeing how I was losing more energy early on by throttling back to match the lower geared group pace, I finally cracked and started pedaling away on my own knowing they would find me, catch me and overtake me. Another reason I broke away and started riding more on my own was the fact that I don't really talk much when I ride and there was a ton of nervous chatter going on around me and while I enjoy listening, my feedback was implied on several occasions, so I buggered off. I was also running in panic mode since I felt undergunned in the gearing department. Onwards I trudged slowly but surely, in my lowest gear riders everywhere ahead started to become apparent. I felt like I was going way too hard, but I kept to my calculations and was right on target. 6.5mph avg. Everything felt right, so I continued onwards. After a few more hours, I realized this was going to take everything I had learned from riding single speed for so many years in the mountains. Pace, leverage and moderate, yet consistent effort...Then just when I had developed a strategy for dealing with the never-ending climbs, they started pitching even steeper. I could not believe looking up some of these climbs...so damn steep. I fell into an attack-rest-attack routine and shared the gravel with a solo female single speeder, who I later found out was named <a href="https://www.facebook.com/eleanor.mcdonough.39?fref=ts" target="_blank">Eleanor</a>. She also kept attacking and surging forward, only to stop, unclip, rest and repeat. After awhile I would jokingly pedal by and mumble "tag". It was a fun game for a while because she would not give up the fight and kept me moving forward. She seemed to want to win this game as I could hear her grunting up behind me and overtake me with everything she had. I kept wondering how long she was going to be able to hold up that kind of effort. She was running a really tallish geared single speed and she seemed tiny compared to some of the burly single speed crowd I associated with. After some time, more single speeders came into view. One was a guy who had previously completed TD and Mike Pierce! Yes, I was in shock. I was barely 4 hours into this ride and I had caught up with a few of the stronger riders out here! It seems like Mike was having a really tough time maintaining his efforts and soon, I surpassed the whole lot of them. It was not like we were on flat roads yet either, I was currently climbing 20-25% grades on gravel feeling every turn of the cranks. Then just when you thought it couldn't get worse, it did...35%+ grades...ridiculous! I have never seen such steep gravel roads in my life. They went up for what seemed like miles with micro relief groins scattered here and there. There is just no way to accurately describe just how hard this section was. Finally, this all led to Darnell Creek Horse Trail which was my first major descent of this big bad adventure across Georgia. I cherished the relief the downhill gave my legs. I did not care how messy the trail was nor how tricky the lines were, I was using every bit of this as relief from the constant upward pressure my legs had just been put through for the last 4 hours. It felt good to actually still be pedaling this far into the game! Then just like that, I popped out into a clearing which was to be Dillard. <br />
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This was my first stop for water since I knew the post office at the corner of the intersection would be my most convenient break. Eleanor and a few others buzzed past me shortly after I consumed some water basking in the tiny celebration of reaching Dillard in my intended time window. They never stopped to reload and kept on pedaling as hard as they could. That is the last I would see of them as they completed the ride a full day ahead of me. The unnamed TD finisher rider came up to reload on water and mentioned being entirely dehydrated and had stopped sweating hours ago. I, on the other hand, was drenched in sweat as I was carefully sticking to my electrolytes plan. 2 bottles of electrolyte water at all times loaded as well as chasing it with clear water. I was eating every 45 minutes and chasing it down with sugars. I was sticking to the plan. Upon leaving the post office, I also downed my last small can of V-8 which left my legs feeling very good afterwards. I started to pedal onwards feeling very good about the last effort I had made and visions of making it to Helen earlier than I anticipated started entertaining my thoughts. I went onwards wondering when Mike was going to catch back up, but he never did. The road rolled up and down until Patterson Gap Road when another climb was attacked and I then blazed through up and to Tallulah River/Charlie's Creek. At this point in the ride, I was feeling great, my legs were probably numb, but they were still producing output and motoring me along, so I kept cruising and most importantly keeping my head up enjoying the sights as I was now passing through some fantastic national parks and enjoying the beauty around me. Feeding off the positive energy of the river flowing and the people swimming, fishing and enjoying nature kept me motivated and pedaling along at a constant pace. At around 3:30pm, I stop for a quick lunch near the river enjoying the moment. This brief pause reinvigorates me to continue at a more upbeat pace. Finding the creek crossing to Charlie's creek road was tricky, but I finally get back on track and continue on my way. I finally run low on water and use this opportunity to be around super clean running water to take a break and practice using my water filtration system. I prop myself up on a rock in an off the route creek soaking my sore feet in the water and filter out 3 water bottles worth of water. I then chug down a bottles worth of water and top off everything else. As I was post treating my water and loading up, another rider caught up, Curtis, who was also about to do the same thing as I had done, water loading. I tell him that the water tastes great and that I would definitely see him again soon.<br />
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I roll onwards up the jeep trail road grunting and huffing as the road was a total workout. This is my first time feeling truly exhausted, but the voice in my head whispers do not stop. I trudge onwards mile after mile and find myself on a main road. The tires on my bike are power suckers on the road, so I gauge my output as I spin along. Curtis catches up and matches my pace. He is looking for someone to pas the miles with and I am ok with this. He tries to make smalltalk, but I am useless in this department especially now that I am trickling energy to the pedals only. He carries on since he is much smoother on the road and I lose sight of him until I see him hanging out at a side road support station!? Top of Georgia Hostel has setup a table with free PB&J sandwiches and Cokes and Water. I swerved across the street and quickly scarfed down an entire sandwich as it sounded fantastic at that very moment. As I downed my Coke, I chatted up Curtis who was laid out and looking a bit worse for wear. We talk for a while, thank the wonderful lady who was manning the support station and we proceed on our journey together for as long as that would last. Turns out, whenever we hit single track I was able to easily fly along and then as soon as we hit pavement, I would wait up for Curtis as he would then be the faster of the two. Knowing each of our strengths helped us gauge how to best ride together. We rode like that for the next 15-20 miles until the single track really started to build up and then I had my first mechanical of the ride. It seems my constant stand up style torquing on the cranks was making my rear wheel slip in the dropouts. I stopped about a dozen times to readjust the quick release lever which was now insanely tight and was hoping this would not be a show stopper. I could tell Curtis was not enjoying all of the stops I was making, so I urged him to go on and that I would catch up. He went and I never saw him after that. I stopped for what seemed like 20 minutes analyzing the issue and realized the wheel was midway up the dropouts and not being shored up by the monkey nuts. This meant anytime there was incredible pressure causing the wheel to slip, the drive side would inch forward leaving the opposite side tire rubbing the chain stays. It was so annoying, but I finally resolved the problem and motored onwards down the final decent to the base of Tray Gap Climb. I had no idea what this climb had in store except that my elevation chart pegged it as 10 miles of long and arduous climbing. I heard others mention climbing Tray Gap. So there it was, close to 9:30pm and I was just settling in to climb Tray Gap. I was excited, but I also knew I was way behind schedule. I knew it was because of all the slow moving riding I had been doing all day, but I was not going to get upset. I settled in for the climb. Up the gravel I went. Up more gravel. Up Corbitt Creek Rd I went into a super steep ridiculously punchy initial climb which hurt so bad, but I had no choice since early on I had determined pedaling this beast was way easier than pushing it. I soft pedaled my way up and over this climb with a super short recovery descent. which led to yet another uphill burner. At this point I was pretty much done with climbing and wanted to just unclip and find a nice spot to rest. I knew that if I stopped at this point, I would have to bivy for the night. This went on for another few hours and was really just a long slow dull burning climb for what seemed like forever. At some point near the top of this ridiculous climb, I ran dangerously low on water and had to go bushwhacking through the woods for water since I could faintly hear a creek trickling. It is close to midnight and I am up on some mountain tired, hungry and thirsty in the woods searching for water. Totally awesome. I load up on water, and feel the bonks coming on so I decide to take a break and eat something real. I look around and find a can of sardines in my tail bag. 12 hours ago, this was not the most appealing thing to eat, but right now I was drooling over it. I crack open the tin and discover a pulpy mess of what was once sardines. Turns out the sardines have been shook up from the downhill descents to the point of being pure fish pulp. So there I was on the side of the gravel road eating sardine pulp with my fingers, chasing it down with fresh mountain creek water and for dessert, honey stinger chews, yum! I was living the life! As sarcastic as that sounded, the real food and the quick break brought me back from the edge of bonksville not a moment too soon as I had crested Tray Gap and was about to descend on Hickory Nut Trail...but not before I get a little lost. I am so excited to be nearing the descent into Helen that I pedal like mad to get into the groove. I then find myself at a dead end at a camp circle and the fire pit is still warm and there are beer bottles all around it. I am stumped, where the hell is the start to Hickory Nut? 12:30am and I want to get off this mountain! I backtrack almost to the point where I stopped to eat. Nothing. I intensify my helmet beam and I get off the bike and start slowly walking through the campsite area looking for a sign. I back track once again and see a sliver of what resembles a trail clearing 20 years ago. My GPS seems to line up with it. I creep into it and I find what I am looking for...Hickory Nut Trailhead. It is a rutted out trail that does not see very much use. 1:15am and I am finally descending this stupid trail. I was pissed to have lost so much time looking for this sliver in the dark. I set out rolling quickly only to be throttled by the hordes of randomly placed square mini-stonehenge style rocks everywhere! I do not know why they were strewn all over the trail and I didn't care at this point. My only objective was to get down off this damn mountain. So tired, body spent and the only thing holding me together was my desire to make it to Helen. I carefully pick my way down the trail slowing down over and over due to the rocks and sudden turns as well as the dark dropoff to my immediate left. It took every bit of concentration to stay on target and not screw up. I kept telling myself ride smart, you've got time. No whammies! I turn up the juice and do what I do best and that is descend on my mountain bike. After about a million miles to the bottom, I pop out on a road headed towards Woodys Bike shop....My hands hurt so bad and I cannot believe I made it down that entire descent without a scratch. I arrive at Woodys only to discover they are closed and no longer cooking, or anything...just my luck. I continue onwards to Helen at 2:00am and find an empty town on the tail end of last call. All the people are either drunk in bed or stumbling on their way home. No vacancy signs are everywhere. I grow more weary and almost decide to turn around and continue onwards to Vogel, but first I roll into the Days Inn to find a front desk clerk who is clearly super high and cannot comprehend that I would like a room for the night. He looks at me and moans that he is just not sure, just not sure, just not sure, eyes bloodshot....and buries his face in room records trying to figure out what to do. Its like a scene out of a surreal movie. There are other people in the lobby and they all just look at him like he is crazy. There is a biracial couple that was just married and was denied a room at another hotel who were super upset and the Limo is running into the entrance. I spy a huddle house which I am going to feed my face in before I head off to Vogel. One lady is there waiting on her husband who called ahead to have her to pick him up as he is quitting after Helen. She asks me to explain how to read the Trackleaders dots. I ask her for his name and show her how to track his dot on her iPad. He has not even started Tray Gap according to his dot and it was a recent update, so I tell her its going to be early morning before he rolls into town. She tells me I must be wrong since he told her it wouldn't be that much longer. I decide not to argue and simply shrug my shoulders. She looks up my dot and notices it last reported me down the road about 10 minutes ago. She then proceeds to accuse me of "cheating" since my dot does not follow the same perfect path her husband's dot had taken and uses this argument to justify the fact that I am here and he is not. I almost lose my shit at this point and simply walk up to my bike leaning in the corner of the Days Inn checkin entrance only to disturb a couple across from it in the dark having full on sex outdoors in the shadows. The girl leans over and pulls up her shorts and casually walks away while the guy slinks off into the dark. The front desk clerk notices that I am clearly upset and about to leave when he runs out and offers me a nasty room in the corner where one of his employees was living up until a few hours ago when he was fired. It wreaks of cigarettes so bad, I feel like I burned my nose. I decline, thank him for the strange offer and pedal onwards to the huddle house. At the huddle house, I am greeted by 5-6 drunk bike lovers. These old guys have never seen a fully loaded bike with fat gnarly knobby tires before so they are oooohhing and awwwwing... I ask them if they are going to be ok with me leaving my bike out here with them and they mention how they will take gooood care of it. I sigh, walk into the Huddle house and find that the head cook never showed up for work and they are working on one short order cook for the night. Once again, patience....I sit down at the counter and BEG for a large orange juice and a large coke. The waitress happily obliges and I down them both within minutes which catches her off guard. I order another orange juice and she says really? I say absolutely. After rehydrating, I order a super breakfast combination platter realizing this could take a long long time. So, I pull out my phone, turn off airplane mode and sift through the dozens of FaceBook messages and texts. I finally sort it out and starting catching up on other riders status and locations via track leaders. I find Derek's dot is clearly in Helen! So I go back on FaceBook and over to Derek's page where his status reads he has checked into a room close to the Huddle house and mentions having room for another if needed. I quickly mention to the waitress that I would like my order to go. She packs it all up and by 3:00am, I am on my way to a room for a few hours. I find the room, beat on the door to no answer. Wrong room? Wrong hotel? There is a guy in the grass in front of the hotel walking his dog who tells me that he doesn't think there is anyone in the room I am knocking on. He offers to let me stay in his room though! WHAT kind of place is this??! I beat harder on Derek's door and he finally answers it. I push my way in as he is disoriented talking about how today was the hardest effort he has ever done on his bike. I close the door and handle all my business, shower food, clean my kit and hang it to dry. I sit there in my bed listening to Derek talk about he is not going any further than Helen and I disagree with him and tell him to get some rest and reconsider a late start tomorrow. He falls off into sleep and I finish my huddle house meal. I quickly brush my teeth, dry off and fall asleep finally at 3:45am. Alarm set for 7am. I fall asleep....Longest day of my life ever. I blink my eyes and tomorrow comes....quickly. <br />
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GPS Stats:<br />
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<a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/187020969" target="_blank">The Dillard Push</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/187021012" target="_blank">The Push to Helen</a><br />
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<br />LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-31512685229444597092014-08-22T07:00:00.000-04:002014-10-06T03:08:48.704-04:00TNGA: The lead up to the roll out....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So in major bike packing events, there is racing, and there is riding. From what I have learned after TNGA, racing comes only after you not only know the course layout, but also from being fit enough to go the entire way with enough power and drive to accomplish it all. You also have to risk certain items in order to go lighter and faster. I could not afford to leave much of what I had loaded behind based mostly on my fear of the unknown. This was not a big deal since I was treating the TNGA as what it was meant to be: a bike adventure. Racing is a natural progression, but not the level I chose to enter this event under. So, in most bike packing events, I have learned there is the option to ITT (individual time trial) the event, which means go out and ride it on your own at your convenience when you want to, simply submitting your time to the organizers for acknowledgement. There is also the option to do a mass start, which is sometimes called a "grand depart". I chose the mass start due to the fact that I wanted to ride with others and it also gave me a bit of comfort knowing other rides were out there whom I could possibly depend on if need be. For this to occur, I had to head up to Georgia before the time of the race.<br />
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Around the beginning of August, I had already locked down my gear to a certain degree and my bike hardware was mostly handled, so all that was really left was my name on the official start list. I was getting closer every day as the people who had signed up early on were canceling for one reason or another. I knew I was already going to ride it, but my name on the official start list meant visual awareness of my being on the actual ride. A few days later, there it was my name had made the list and it was announced on FaceBook. The reality set in...I was about to pedal across Northern Georgia on a 60+lb mountain bike! I then had one more logistic issue to resolve. How was I going to get back to my truck after the ride? I consulted with Mark again and he suggested doing what he did last year after TNGA: Leave my truck in Greenville at his house, ride with his drop off person to the start, do the ride, recover after the ride at a nearby campground, then pedal 70 miles to Atlanta along a rail trail, then catch a train back to Greenville. This sounded great for a few days until it wasn't...I just knew I wouldn't have the gas left in my physical and mental tank to do 70 more miles after the ride. This solution also did not resolve the fact that if I decided to quit for some unknown reason, I would be nowhere near Atlanta or a train. So, I read deeper into the TNGA website notes and they continually mentioned a place called <a href="https://www.facebook.com/MulberryGapMountainBikeGetAWay" target="_blank">Mulberry Gap</a>. At this point in time, I knew very little about this place except it was mentioned often last time I raced Fools Gold a few years back. I assumed it was simply a little KOA style encampment in the mountains....I was wrong. After finding out Mulberry Gap offered a full plan for before, during and after TNGA, I was sold. Mark mentioned that this system was a bit expensive, but he agreed they had a good overall system. I went through most of the charges and it would have cost nearly the same as the train solution after I had purchased a bike box and overly expensive train ticket. I called up Mulberry and asked if it was too late to sign up for lodging and a ride to the start at which they assured me I was fine and we handled everything quickly via email and a few simple forms. I was signed up for a yurt, breafast, and a ride to the start line as well as standby support during the ride and then a ride from the finish! The concern in my mind was lifted! No one else was going to have to come up and miss a full week of work just because I was about to do this crazy ride! The next few weeks went by so fast due to many other events going on and before I know it I was in my truck driving up to Mulberry Gap.<br />
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The ride up to Mulberry was actually very easy going and smooth. Having been up this way so many years in a row for Snake Creek Gap Time Trials, I was ok with the time spent driving along. As I approached Mulberry Gap, the first thing I realized was that this is a cool, established cozy looking place. I drove up the steep winding roadway to the "barn" and noticed a ton of cars and commotion around some guys jeep which was being manually moved for towing. It was later learned that his electrical had failed and was being repaired while he raced. I noticed Bill Bailey was already here and loading onto the first shuttle to the yurt. I parked my truck, walked up to the main office to register with Mulberry and loaded my bike on the truck which was taking all of our bikes to the Yurt ahead of us. I then retreated to the barn to await the next shuttle and to find shelter from the midday heat as well as find someplace that was level and not steep. Yes, I was already concerned that things around here were a little too steep for my own good. The Barn is a cool meeting place in the lodge area where breakfast, lunch and dinner are served with love, as well as conversation is had and board games are still played and doggies roam freely and cool looking bikes are strewn about. There is a public beer fridge and couches to sprawl out on and books to read. After a little time, a familiar face strolled in,<a href="https://www.facebook.com/derek.tribble?fref=ts" target="_blank">Derek Tribble</a>. I met this guy briefly during TOSRV ( Tour of Southern Rural Vistas ) as well. So many strong riders in Florida! He was sitting with a group of riders from Florida which I had not yet met, but would get to know during the ride. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/celso.rodrigues?fref=ts" target="_blank">Celso Rodrigues</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/colin.campbell.50951101?fref=ts" target="_blank">Colin Campbell</a> were a few I was introduced to who were here to do the ride. They also seemed to have the same "rookie stare" as I later found it to be called. We stood out like sore thumbs. We all exchanged a ton of idle chatter referring to the weather often. Celso mentioned that it wouldn't be raining until 4-5 days from now so we shouldn't have any problems. I asked where it would be raining and I think he misunderstood me, but I was serious, where? Where in Georgia? At what time? Current proximity would be a major factor as to how the weather would be. We never ironed out exactly how the weather pattern would fluctuate, because out shuttle had arrived and we hurriedly shuffled out to load up. I carried my bag onboard and was a bit worried since I had skipped lunch and was told this would be a 3 hour drive. I hoped along the way we would stop to refuel. After some chatter on the van along the way, we got to know each other a little better and some veteran questions started flying, "what's the hardest climb?", "where should I get water", "are there a lot of bears"...lots and lots of questions flying all around me while I was selectively taking in just answers to questions which I needed answers to. I was very relieved to know the answers to many of these questions due to the enormous amount of research I had done leading up to this event. Before long, we stopped at a gas station, so I jump out and purchase 2 chicken sandwiches for the road and a bag of chips. I think a few people around me were looking at me rather oddly, but I also noticed a few TNGA veterans also feeding their faces. I knew what I was doing, I was pre-loading. I was eating everything in sight knowing I may not be eating much at all tomorrow. Little did I know that within an hour we stopped in a town near the yurts for dinner. It was a bit early for dinner to me, but this was it, so I ordered a big burger and fries and chased it down with a local brew. It was hard to push it down and I found myself fully stuffed. So there we sat around the table and I calmly asked for a show of hands as to who was a veteran of the TNGA. I was surprised to notice that many guys who I did not assume to be veterans were. A funny thing about being labeled a veteran: it did not mean you were a TNGA finisher...it only meant you had attempted it previously. So, many veterans amongst me, very few finishers. Scary. We loaded back into the van and headed off to the yurt.<br />
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Upon arrival, I am blown away by how cool the yurts are! I feel like a little kid at camp! I am running in and around the yurt to check out the design and how neat it is. I pick the same yurt as Derek, Celso and Colin as I want to discuss the course more with them later tonite. We are encouraged to handle any last minute issues with our bikes now, so people are scrambling to fiddle with their steeds. I know better than to mess with my bike right now and leave it alone. I gather my water bottles, pre fill them, put them on my bike, and go back to the yurt. I wait for my turn in the shower and before you know it, we are all settling in for the night since we have to be up at 4am for a 4:30 breakfast. I get to know Celso and Colin better and we all swap notes on what gear we have selected for the ride. Colin, I discover, is very vocal and great at communicating for the group. He is regretting not having some of the gear others of us have chosen for the ride, but I think he will be fine with the gear he is bringing. Meanwhile, I had been going back and forth as to whether or not I should bring my hammock along, but know that it is a 1.5lb extra load which will also take up valuable space in the tail bag. I finally decide to leave the hammock behind. I then deliberate on whether or not I should bring my sleeping bag. It is a super light bag less than a pound, but it is an item which also takes up a little space. I talk myself into just using my emergency bivy with my thermals. I feel really nervous as I am making major last minute changes and I told myself NOT to do this. I overheard a few mention that they did not think they would make the start list and had not really trained beforehand. We take a little more time geeking out on offline mapping software and I know that I will not get lost thanks to the fantastic navigation system in my eTrex 20, as well as having a few different maps and cue sheets along for the ride. No one else was bringing a map, or an elevation chart, or cue sheets... I was in shock. I can understand it if you are a rookie, but there were 2 veterans in our yurt and both vets had no map, and no logistical tools whatsoever except for their GPS. Most had rechargeable GPS. I asked them where they planned to recharge? Most casually said they would handle those issues when they reached Mulberry Gap. After reading Karlos Rodriguez' outline of his ride thru TNGA, Mulberry Gap would be quite a ways away. Morning came quickly and I stumbled out of the yurt into the commons area. I slipped into my riding kit knowing I would be wearing these clothes for a really long time. Afterwards, I found myself in the mess hall staring at a half awake Kate stumbling around putting food items out and a zombie tired Andrew cooking a few dozen eggs at a time. Breakfast was actually quite tasty and I went back for seconds and then out to handle last minute issues and pack up my night gear. I took one last look at my hammock and sleeping bag which I was leaving behind and I was a bit scared. I was scared because something uncertain was about to happen and I had no control over it all. Once again, we were all in the van and headed another hour and a half further down the road towards the South Carolina state line. Once went arrived, our focus shifted to unloading our bikes and getting everything bolted or tied on and getting mentally ready for the go call. Mark and Mike arrive in their ride and set forth getting ready as well. At this point in the ride, I was numb and disconnected from the group. I sat there listening blankly to the riders meeting words by Derek Koslowski and all of a sudden, go was mentioned as we softly rolled out. Next thing you know some of the racers sprint off the start and start racing like a XC race and the rest of the riders stretch out and start rolling forward...the morning air wakes me from my deadlike state and I realize the ride is happening right now. I was doing it, I was pedaling across North Georgia!<br />
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<br />LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-68207491684543338402014-08-18T00:08:00.000-04:002014-10-06T03:02:38.058-04:00TNGA: Preparing for the best of times, the worst of times and everything in-between...<span style="background-color: white; color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"> The </span><b style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">TNGA</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"> (</span><b style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">T</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">rans </span><b style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">N</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">orth </span><b style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">G</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">eorgi</span><b style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">A</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">) is a 350 mile mountain bike route through the mountains of North Georgia on trails, forest roads and paved roads featuring challenging terrain, beautiful scenery and over 56000 feet of climbing. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">The Trans North Georgia Mountain Bike Adventure is a self-supported ride along the length of the route. Riders are welcome to ride the route as an ITT(individual time trial) or as part of the annual event. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">The 2014 event starts at 8AM on August 23rd and registration is limited to 75 participants. There is NO registration fee. The field starts at the South Carolina Border on Highway 28, east of Clayton Georgia, heads west and has nearly 9 days to follow the route to the Alabama border on Highway 20, west of Rome, Georgia...</span><br />
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<span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"> That being said, TNGA is a tough ride across Georgia on a mountain bike. One which I was talked into signing up for at the suggestion of a friend of mine, Mark Sackett, who told me this was a ride I would never forget. He was right, I will never ever forget TNGA. Bikepacking in itself is something that is a natural progression of my love for cycling as well as my interest in camping and minimal approaches to all of the aforementioned. It involves a lot of time thinking about and reevaluating your chosen equipment based on where you are going to ride and how far and how long you are going to be gone. Earlier in the year, I had planned on riding in the Huaracan 300 and I had missed out on it due to NAHBS. I didn't realize at the time how important that ride would have been to preparing for TNGA. Long distance bike races/rides are no joke and if I had known just how much a ride like the Huaracan would have prepared me for TNGA, I would have definitely gone out of my way to ride it. Since I registered to late for TNGA, I was not on the "grand depart" list, so I wasn't worried about the "commitment" factor yet, but I did mention I was going to ITT it and I wanted to stick to that notion. So in my mind, TNGA was a go...</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px;"> So that being said, my race preparation for the TNGA was based primarily on how I had tackled Dirty Kanza. Dirty Kanza was a gravel race out in the middle of Kansas I had completed at the end of May. While Dirty Kanza was a very tough gravel race, it was not nearly the kind of race to prepare me for the insane amount of climbing I did in Georgia. Kanza was a supported race with SAG stops every 50 miles. TNGA was fully self supported across 350 miles. That will make up another blog post..this is about preparation. So in my mind, all I was spinning was which bike to use? How to setup my bike? What gear to bring? How much food? How to handle water? What the hell am I thinking? Why am I not putting in 200 mile rides every day right now?? Needless to say, June and July were a nerve-wracking blur.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"> So I spent most of the few months remaining stocking up on bike packing gear of all sorts and sizes. Another ride I wished I had paid more attention on was the TOSRV ride earlier in the year across a small section of Georgia. Since I was ultra noob on the bike packing scene, I had initial trouble comprehending the bike setups of some of the riders of this short 160 mile out and bike ride. Many brains were picked and many opinions were asked which led to this giant spinning whirlwind of choices I still had yet to make. I finally stopped asking questions and focused on the main objective first. Water. How was I going to handle my water filtration? How was I going to carry my water? I finalized on a 2L frame bag pouch as well as 2-4 water bottles on the frame. My first option for water filtration was my personal hiking MSR pump. It was what I considered lightweight at the time and functional. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;">Combined with iodine tablets, it was my immediate solution. After confirmation with <a href="https://www.facebook.com/billi1905?fref=ts" style="line-height: 24px;" target="_blank">Bill Bailey</a><span style="line-height: 24px;">, a fellow TNGA rider and a water quality specialist, I left that as my choice, until it wasn't. So there I was water issues handled, kind of in shape, and still not sure which bike choice I would ride. I finally hashed it out with Mark Sackett and he cleared the issue to 2 simple options: Race TNGA or Ride TNGA? This was truly the question of the moment. So after careful evaluation of the extremity of the event, I realized I would not even be close to ready to race this event, so I based that as my decision to load up the workhorse with my gear. The workhorse in my stable is my Surly Krampus since it can hold a ton of weight in a stable manner, is a fantastic handling mountain bike and can still pedal lightly due to the 3'' tires. The downside is that hike a bikes were going to be a chore due to the steel frame weight and the oversize tires. My choice was made and my next step was to outfit the bike with the appropriate tires to handle the ride. From rider feedback research, I concluded 27tpi Knards should be ordered. I also installed new brake pads, new narrower </span><span style="line-height: 24px;">handlebars, Ergon comfort grips with long handles, longer 120mm stem for extra room, last but not least, I built a new wheel set based on ZTR Flow Rims with an SP Dynamo power hub for power options. All in all, I was basically building up a dual sport adventure motorcycle sans the motor. Other items I picked up later were an eRevo Dynamo light system which worked really well with the SP hub as well as a SineWave USB charge port/ line conditioner. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;">After wiring it all up, I realized I did not like the fact that having a device hooked up to charge was draining on the lights, so I found a site online called <a href="http://www.klite.com.au/" style="line-height: 24px;" target="_blank">kLite</a><span style="line-height: 24px;"> and quickly started a detailed conversation with the founder and engineer of the company, </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/kerry.staite?fref=ts&ref=br_tf" style="line-height: 24px;" target="_blank">Kerry Staite</a><span style="line-height: 24px;">, who asked me for a few pictures of the bike, intended usage and anticipated electrical configuration outcome. I told him all I know and he responded back with ok mate, got it, now let me do the thinking and you just focus on the pedaling...I laughed so hard and truly allowed him to do the rest as I set out to get some major base miles in while I also thought of bike packing scenarios. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"> Mid July came quick and I started to panic that not everything was yet in order and a mock dress rehearsal was somewhat imminent. Revelate bags were in and loaded on the bike. Handlebar harness started to seem like overkill so I was already planning on nixing it. Then I worried about what would go in the frame bag as I wanted primary items up front and </span></span><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; text-align: center;">secondary support items in the tail bag. Secondary support items varied. I also changed my MSR for a Sawyer Squeeze which I had recently learned about for ultralite water filtration. My sleeping system consisted of: a Hennessey Hammock, Ultralite Thermarest, and a SeaToSummit SP1 Sleeping bag. I also had a mess of survival items as well as a backup bivy to assist if the temp dropped considerably. The next challenge was to load it all up and work on balancing the load. This would help determine if I had truly overpacked. I also wondered heavily if I had packed enough to eat. I also wondered if I would want to eat what I brought....Preparation was quickly usurping training time....</span><br />
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<span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><b><u>Items that made the final cut:</u></b></span></span><br />
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<ul>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px;">First Aid Kit</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px;">SOL Emergency Bivy</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px;">Mini Emergency Survival Kit</span></li>
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px;">Hand wire Saw</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px;">Waterproof matches</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px;">lighter</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px;">mini led flashlight</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px;">Leatherman</span></li>
</ul>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">USB lipstick battery</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">Sawyer Squeeze Water Filter</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">Aqua Mira post water treatment</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">25' paracord</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">buckknife</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">emergency rehydration salts kits (2)</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">NiteCore SRT3 hi power LED flashlight</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">DEET spray tube</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">toilet paper</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">Desitin</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">extra AA & AAA batteries as well as LED Flashlight batteries</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">Garmin eTrex 20</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">Marmot ultralite rainjacket</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">Polyester Thermal long sleeve shirt and pant</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">eRevo Dynamo Light & Rear RedEye Light</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">SineWave USB conditioner</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">1L collapsible bag for water</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">SPOT Gen 2 Personal tracker</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">Thermarest ultralite inflatable ridgerest</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">Mini Whistle/Compass</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">printed cue sheets, maps, additional trail info</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">waterproof headphones</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">Zip Ties</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">Mini Custom toolkit:</span></span></li>
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">mini pedros super multitool</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">chain lube (2)</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">Emergency Boot Kits (4)</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">self vulcanizing tire patch tool</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">self adhesive patch kit</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">extra chain links</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">extra shoe cleat</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">extra brake pads</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">tire lever</span></span></li>
</ul>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">Nuuns Tablets for Water</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">Water Bottle filled with gatorade/cytomax drink mix. (served to mix into my other water bottles)</span></span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><b><u>Initial Food Items:</u></b></span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">KIND bars (5-6 random)</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">dozen or so GUs mostly the Coffee ones </span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">Mario Olives</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">2 V-8s</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">2 Sardine Tins</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">Caffeinated Chewing Gum (Military strength)</span></span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><u><b>Items Still on the Fence:</b></u></span></span></div>
<div>
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">Hennessey Hammock</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">SeaToSummit SP I Sleeping Bag</span></span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="color: #3d5054; font-family: Open Sans, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">As you can tell, there is a lot of stuff involved in bike packing. Especially if it is long distance, unsupported riding. Most of the upper tier racers, were bringing only the bare minimum, but only because they are badasses and know for a fact that they can finish the course in under a few days. I was not so certain of my potential since I had never ventured this far without some kind of support system, so I prepared for about a weeks worth of time in the field. Tune in next time when I finally get all of this junk up to Georgia and test it...</span></span></div>
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LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-8130558618615599332014-08-14T16:44:00.000-04:002014-09-19T16:59:58.411-04:00Palmetto Francis Swamp ride, a 3 hour tour plus a few bonus miles....oh and a Bandit Cross Race!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTCJ5mu8mvlkVBzli667vRjADaQojGulpH6xtlhWAh237O4HZ-dWncGWd8DljlqfJUyGEInIFEOWEmio53TEWiL8ojn78nMAXoBXWhT3pLtzY2JRERX4vdyl5bSBHgcC9RQ1lFkr1PLmg/s1600/100_9757%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTCJ5mu8mvlkVBzli667vRjADaQojGulpH6xtlhWAh237O4HZ-dWncGWd8DljlqfJUyGEInIFEOWEmio53TEWiL8ojn78nMAXoBXWhT3pLtzY2JRERX4vdyl5bSBHgcC9RQ1lFkr1PLmg/s1600/100_9757%5B1%5D.JPG" height="133" width="200" /></a></div>
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So I had TNGA (<a href="http://sthiguabclass.com/tnga/" target="_blank">Trans North Georgia</a>) weighing heavily on my mind and I was knee deep in finalizing my race/bikepacking rig. I was nervous, anxious and had no idea what was too much in regards to a 350+ mile bike packing race. Basically I was packing everything except for the kitchen sink on my 29+ Surly Krampus. I knew the bike could manage the load well and was surprisingly well balanced for the girth it carried before loaded. I had made many gearing choices, saddle choices, stem length choices, handlebar choices, you get the picture... So here comes August roaring in like a lion and I am going through a "dress rehearsal" by making a set date to go out midday and ride my bike in some of the nastier trail I could think of for a few miles. I chose leaving from the house, connecting some gravel to the Palmetto Trail and riding it to Lake Moultrie upon which I would decide to knock out 60 more miles to truly verify the load weight choices. I set out out Wednesday evening as it just would not stop raining and since you really cannot pick your weather when biking, I set out when I saw a break in the rain pattern. As I sped along through the connecting gravel, I made note of a few things which would have to change in regards to how my lights were setup as well as the amount of weight on my handlebars. Being near sea level, it is always difficult to visualize how a loaded bike will feel when climbing countless feet of elevation. As I connected and entered the Palmetto Trail, the countless roots and murky conditions really forced me to get out of the saddle and focus on my technique on a fully loaded bike. It was pretty damn tricky. The weight would definitely take its toll on my arms and torso as falling out of balance required forced techniques to get back on track. I rode on like this through the quagmire for several miles sweating like mad in the intense humidity. It felt close to 102 degrees in the evening closing. Dark came very soon and my first discovery was that my awesome Revo/Dynamo setup really suck for 2-3 mph crawling through dense forest. I stopped, and remembered my awesome new flashlight(gear will be detailed and discussed in a future post) which had been recommended to me by Mark Sackett and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/jefe.branham.3?fref=ts" target="_blank">Jefe Branham</a> Velcro'd to my helmet and set on midrange, the night lit up and onward I rolled. Another mental note was made to make sure I verified length of time each battery would last in my flashlight as it would definitely play an important part in my night riding. The Palmetto seemed to roll on forward as it was thick, mucky and just plain poorly maintained. All previous bridges nearing Lake Moultrie were in terrible shape and I had to double check my step upon rolling each and every one since my bike weighed around 65lbs. As I pedaled and slogged my way through, I had a flashback to riding a top heavy dual sport motorcycle through muck like this and having the same issues. Balance is very critical in situations like this as dumping your bike means you are going have to expend some major energy to right it again. Anyways, after a small eternity, I popped out of the Francis Marion and crossed Hwy 52 and rolled into the Santee Canal Reserve park area which was now closed due to lack of federal funding. Here is where I planned on pulling out my night sleeping gear and determine what worked and what did not. I setup my Ultra Lite Hennessy Hammock. It was so humid that the inside and out was soaked. I tried to slide in my thermarest to simulate the lack of a quilt. Nope, not gonna work. I left my ultralite sleeping bag in my rear bag as it was just too nasty wet and hot out here to even test it. I also had reservations about bringing it along, so that was that. I hung out for a bit thinking through it all and determined the hammock might also be left behind as it was too much effort as well as a a pound and a quarter of weight to carry along. So many decisions yet to make and I was still unsure about my fitness approaching this major event. I finally checked the time and realized it was close to 11pm and suddenly I realized I had spent way more time in the woods getting to my first checkpoint than I intended. This would not have been a problem any other night as I was prepared to ride all night if needed, but I had also confirmed with <a href="https://www.facebook.com/stephen.janes.77?fref=ts" target="_blank">Stephen "Asheville" Janes</a> that we were to ride early tomorrow morning on a few gravel roads and possibly parts of the Palmetto Trail. I really wanted to meet up with him as I always miss hanging out with him when he comes into town, so I made a decision to skip pedaling around Lake Moultrie for the additional 60 miles and simply connect onto 402 and pedal home...but then I thought a little more about that decision and realized I was still 3-4 hours out. This would have me getting home close to 3am at the earliest. I quickly pulled out my phone and called Wifey for a possible extraction. Unfortunately for her, she answered the phone and within the next hour, she was carting my soaking wet muddy butt back home. I quickly jumped in the shower, set my gear out for tomorrow and made the decision to just ride the Krampus again tomorrow since it is the bike I am supposed to be focusing on. I pulled off the front handlebar bag and loaded it up with water and grabbed a few hours of sleep. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpBKy4d1tqog4K_syZZLuDtWClk5xpdiG1uaFO7k_u7XKcoXCByxvEhETkDxWXnYGyR1H4LNr3neRPVgjp9Fz3N5SVsskf0-RdVDKwAaWZVjAWajtyob1jHJKkosfh3Sa1ODjNW3k1FaE/s1600/IMG_20140813_201253.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpBKy4d1tqog4K_syZZLuDtWClk5xpdiG1uaFO7k_u7XKcoXCByxvEhETkDxWXnYGyR1H4LNr3neRPVgjp9Fz3N5SVsskf0-RdVDKwAaWZVjAWajtyob1jHJKkosfh3Sa1ODjNW3k1FaE/s1600/IMG_20140813_201253.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
Very glad I took a few photos of my rig in this state as a few people immediately messaged me on Facebook to point out some things which really needed to change or be focused on. My good friend <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Rick.Ashton.Tallahassee?fref=ts" target="_blank">Rick Ashton</a>, gave me a call to "talk me through" my thought process on what I was going to do going into TNGA. He gave me some great tips and I really appreciated his time giving me reassurance that I would be fine based on my current preparation procedures. Another great source of knowledge and inspiration was <a href="https://www.facebook.com/singletracksamurai?fref=ts" target="_blank">Karlos Rodriguez</a>, The Naked Indian and master epic trail rider...many more blog entries will discuss the help he gave me...<br />
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Next day, I meet up with Stephen Janes at the SeeWee Outpost and travel to Ion Swamp Trailhead to rollout from a nice neutral spot to get to dry land since most of the Palmetto is under water due to even more rain that night. Stephen tells me of his adventures fighting off hordes of mosquitoes at the local campground and due to the amount of recent humidity, I would say hordes is an understatement. Along the way, I assure Stephen that our route shouldn't take more than 3 hours. He replies with something along the lines of bummer, I was hoping for something a bit more epic. I take note and modify the route to make it a bit more "epic". We roll out towards McClellanville and take a more scenic route which stops at a general store. We load up on liquids, and eat an ice cream sandwich and some food and continue onwards through historic McClellanville. We start out on the opposite side of the water inlet which is also new to me and we wander around a little and finally come upon an opening which is directly across from the public boat launch and offers a really nice view. Finally, we move along and head towards South Santee which means connecting via a very long sandy stretch of road. I worry that Stephen might not have enough tire to float through the sand, but he powers it out never missing a beat. While I am floating on the sand, the bike's weight, and the heat from the sand are starting to wear me down a bit. We stop near Hwy 17 before crossing over to the Santee and I down an entire bottle of liquid. I am drinking way more than usual and this is not a good sign as we still need to roll back. We cross the highway and start venturing to an area that I roll through often when doing training rides, but it is really hot and super humid now. The bike feels sluggish and I start to slump in the saddle. This is my tell tale sign of fatigue and Stephen picks up on it and offers to stop and recover in the upcoming shade. I do not turn down the offer and after some food and more water, we roll onwards again. I feel fantastic for about 10 minutes then my systems start complaining again.<br />
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Stephen looks worried and thinks I am nearing total heat exhaustion and offers to call his wife for an extraction. I know it is merely external fatigue and that my head is still clear and I just have to adjust my riding style to compensate for the added weight of the loaded bike, so I ask him to simply be patient with me until I find my stride. Up and down my systems go and Stephen is checking on me every so often as one is supposed and it is reassuring to know that I am with someone capable of handling unforeseen issues. I start laying out the logistics required to get us back to our vehicle and we realize we are almost back so out nervousness levels go way down. I had been focusing on the intended loop to keep things interesting that I had never really given much thought to the amount of mileage we had run...61 miles and about 6 hours out in some brutal heat and humidity! We were only supposed to do 35-40, but we both got carried away exploring all over. Good times were had and the trip receives "epic" status. <br />
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Next up was a Bandit Cross race that night which was put on by the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/banditsridebikes" target="_blank">Blue Collar Bandits</a>. Obviously I was physically skunked so racing was no longer an option but I still wanted to go and support the local scene. Fortunately, a close friend of mine, James Cooper, was enroute to race this event. A few hours later, I was hanging out drinking super tasty craft brews (thanks to <a href="https://www.facebook.com/HolyCityBrewing" target="_blank">Holy City Brewing</a> for donating so many delicious yummys!) and James Cooper was getting ready to throw down. Bandit Cross racing is a totally <br />
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underground race format which is only spread through word of mouth and there is no sanctioning and no trophies, mainly just bragging rights, beer and fun. This is definitely a type of racing I love to do since mostly everyone who is in it lives, eats and breaths bikes. Alas, I was so tired, all I could do was make noise, drink beer and do a few hand ups. The course was made even more fun by the fact that it was set to snake through an old concrete skatepark. Everyone worked their way through this section very carefully as there were lots of places to lose a bit of skin. I saw so many radical lines I could have taken to shave some corners, but I wasn't able to pedal or even push my bike along that far...I don't recall who won, but I swear I had just as much fun spectating as I usually do when racing these types of events. James had an awesome time as well as this marked his first underground cross event ever! <br />
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One of the busiest days ever involving bikes came to a close and with that I stopped riding my bike for the rest of the week until TNGA as I was nearing meltdown mode...but that didn't mean the bike packing decisions did not stop...to be continued...oh an thanks for the Dales Pale Ale Asheville Janes!!<br />
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<br />LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-30675475463698563862014-08-11T13:52:00.000-04:002014-09-23T14:13:25.422-04:00Snowshoe Downhill and the Chumbalumba madness...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The week before TNGA, I decided to take a "bike cation". Actually, I had scheduled this in with <a href="https://www.facebook.com/spencer.thomasson?fref=ts" target="_blank">Spencer Thomasson</a> some time ago and had kind of forgotten about it, but my calendar reminded me and then I had some reservations about going "downhilling" the week before a major life event such as TNGA. Spencer called me up and could tell I was nervous...more so because I had never been downhilling and did not know what to expect. He assured me that I would love it and that everything I do is under my control and decision. He told me that if we went and I was still nervous, he would ride the kiddie slopes all day with me..but he knew that would not be the case. I did not know what to expect aside from the fact that I would be going down a mountain really fast with a lot of trees and rocks around me. Funny thing is that I do this regularly when I go up to Pisgah, ironically I usually do this mostly naked since a jersey and bib bike shorts are so sheer you are practically riding naked. So up to Snowshow we went Rob, Spencer and I. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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They were headed up to train for the Chumbalumba, which is a competition that would be held the next weekend which consisted of 30,000 feet of vertical ascending down select trails. It is the equivalent of going down Mount Everest...I was there simply to explore the downhill scene. As we arrived, the weather was not looking formidable and we all were worried that the downhill would be unrideable. We got to the pro shop and the reality set in that I was about to ride down the mountain fast. I rented out a Specialized Demo downhill bike because it had the most travel available to suck up "mistakes" I would make. The amount of body armor that I put on worried me as I thought it was going to be heavy and hot, but later in the day I never noticed it on me. As we left the pro shop, the butterflies in my stomach were at an all time high just like before a big race. Spencer immediately takes me right over to the intermediate trails and he gestures to simply follow his line. I ask him if we should reconsider and go over to the kiddie slopes first. He replies with, "dude, trust me". I say ok, let's do this and off we go with me following Spencer and Rob. Normal woods descent with lots of solid packed berms, flowy smooth, small jump, log, berm turn, fast ripping straight, big jump, big jump, yikes! The big stuff came up quick, but it was not intimidating, instead it connected pretty smoothly based on the previous line. I felt a surge of adrenaline and gripped the bars tight as I floated over the big jumps, both tires totally leaving the ground for a few solid seconds landing smooth as butter on the backside with very little effort. I was <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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loving this! Then just when I thought I was finished with the big stuff, into dense woods we go again and a rock garden pops up. The downhill bike sucked up every bit of roughness with room to spare. I was amazed at how well the dynamics of a downhill bike were. My grip starts to loosen on the bars, and my riding style changes to a more relaxed one as my tensions about scary big drops and insane sharp rock ledges fade away. Downhill parks made more sense. They can't make them too intense or they won't have lots of traffic...but they do make them flow well and that's what sold me. I loved the fact that everything flowed and connected and kept you enjoying the ride. Afterwards, we hung out in the village at Snowshoe and enjoyed great food, and listened to all the buzz being generated in regards to the Chumbalumba. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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That night, I was buzzing with adrenaline at having ridden downhill all day and lived to tell about it! Day 2 was an early rise to get on the trails as soon as possible. We started out with the other side of the park which was a mix of kiddie slopes and intermediate to difficult. The kiddie slopes really were just a long flowing piece of neutral single track mostly intended to get one used to the bike's handling. My upper arms were sore from clenching so many times yesterday, so this neutral start helped loosen things up. Afterwards, we rode the lift up to the difficult stuff and rolled some semi-serious drops into rock gardens. The drops were mostly mental as the bike soaked up all the pain from landing 3-4 feet down. I did get loose a few times and hit a tree or two, but mostly it was just a small clip of the handlebars or a deeds stop, nothing where I was flung. The nice thing about riding in flats was the ability to simply eject from the bike whenever things got too tricky. My bike saw lots and lots of eject time with me simply walking away, picking up the bike and trying again. We rode wooden 15 foot walls which were a blast! It started raining and the downhill clay turned to slop. It was seriously nasty out and the aggressive knobbies were tearing up the course, so next lift up, we went back into town to wash off our bikes, handle some minor pro shop maintenance on Spencer's rig and lunch. Then we went back over to the other side where it wasn't <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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raining and finally caught up with the Florida crew, Farmer and Phil...They had been riding already and warmed up so we dropped right in and did a group descent. Farmer surprised me with his incredible style and comfort level on the biggest of jumps only to find out later he is a seasoned downhill park veteran. His advice on the descents really helped and encouraged me to push myself harder and trust my existing abilities to go bigger. I took a few giant drops thanks to some suggestions by Spencer on how to attack them and more adrenaline pumped into my system! Phil had taken a nasty crash earlier the previous day which had left him spooked and riding very conservatively. Rob rode better each and every day we spent there, even adjusting his style to allow more standup time over the gnarlier stuff. That day we rode all the big jump lines at least 20 times jumping higher and further every time. They were so smooth and left us with perma-grins for the rest of the day. We rode the park until it closed and then rolled back to the apartment to recover, cleanup and set out for that nights dinner. The last day at the park saw me extremely sore in my entire upper body area. My hands and arms screamed in pain after a few descents, but only because something felt different about my bike. I was trying to pinpoint it but we were scrambling to get some runs in before we had to leave so I just kept riding the bike in a more conservative manner in adjustment to the stiffer feedback. I also found my shifter appeared to be stuck and I was rolling most of the last few downhills in my highest gear. Stuff wasn't making sense, but I had no time for any of it as we were rolling downhill time after time after time. My body was absolutely wrecked <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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upon our last descent on some of the most difficult terrain, but I handled it like a pro and was very impressed with my newfound abilities to ride downhill smooth and fast. As we headed away from the lift back to the pro shop, I noticed my front end was low. I looked for a flat tire, but it was actually a blown front fork seal! That explains the weird bike stance and the harsher than normal hits on the downhill. I proceeded to check over the bike and find my rear derailleur cable had been ripped off and I had NO shifting abilities. Ha! That explains that. I basically rode that bike till it broke. Lucky for me it was a rental as I entered the pro shop and reported the issues I noticed to which they replied, "no problem, just set it over there and we will fix it up". As we rolled home I was dreaming of a return trip soon with my own equipment to be more adjusted sooner. It was truly a great weekend and really helped get my mind off the incredible pressures of racing TNGA the next week. Another successful moment with great friends on badass bikes! Snowshoe rocks!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-30738292916056207152014-08-04T14:03:00.000-04:002014-09-19T12:39:32.138-04:00Myrtle Beachie Drag Race and Alley Cat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So I decided to knock out 3.5 birds with one bike trip by rolling up to Myrtle Beachie for the first weekend in August. My mother's birthday was on August 1st, so I arrived early that evening and went out to eat at El Cerro Grande. Much mexican food was ingested and off we headed to my moms house where I would stay for the night.<br />
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The next day, I decided get in an early ride, but not before eating a nice breakfast with the parents. Afterwards, I kitted up, pulled out the cross bike and headed out to explore Coastal Myrtle Beach. The weather was murky and threatening to bare down with massive amounts of precipitation, so I carried along my rain jacket. The air was also very warm, so the jacket tucked under my jersey was added heat against my body which made me want it to rain in order to cool things down. My first destination was <a href="http://themyrtlebeachbicyclefix.com/" target="_blank">The Myrtle Beach Bike Fix</a>. I needed a new helmet since the one I was wearing had been cracked for a few weeks since an incident during a group ride sent me flying over the handlebars onto the dirt landing helmet first. A new Catlike helmet was purchased, recommendations on where to ride were given and I was on my way. I pedaled up the boulevard from the south end near Springmaid Pier up to 82nd ave. The traffic at this time was light and my speed was constant. The wind was blowing and I was having a great time. I then connected up and across through a very hairy and tricky connector towards North Myrtle Beach. Now the fun began. I knew my way around here by car, but never had the opportunity to go through all the coastal niches via bike, so that was my challenge. I rode onwards towards the coast near the Galleria at Kroger's only to find out the border roads are segmented by many different "hotel villages". This made for a tricky up and around trek, but I had most of the early day, so I continued on. Out I popped onto Hwy 17 again near Briarcliff. An established mini-sidewalk system existed to allow the shoppers foot access to the malls, so I used it to shuttle my way up to the horseshoe section of North Myrtle Beach. On I went into the Atlantic Beach section until I found out this section was also partitioned from other areas of the boulevard..hmm... <br />
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Fortunately, there is a sliver of a trail which allowed me to squeeze over to the boulevard where I continued my trip. I pedaled onwards at the edge of an angry roaring ocean warning me of the impending downpour. I realized the ocean conditions just as quickly as the sky opened up and dropped massive amounts of rain on me while on my ride. It felt so good I continued onwards. The rain cooled things off so much that my overall speed increased and my feeling of wellness balanced out. I pedaled all the way up to the northern most point of the Windy Hill area where I proceeded to double back to my parent's house. The ride back was just as complicated, but enjoyable nonetheless as I now knew where to pop in and out of. As I approached the south end of the boulevard, the traffic had multiplied exponentially, so I started to weave my way thru miles and miles of standstill tourist traffic. So many kids in cars stuck in traffic looking at other kids in cars. Ahh, wasted youth. As I rolled back, I was paparazzi attacked by the Kevin and Stacy Heniford who had been tracking my Garmin Connect Dot locator all the way up to North Myrtle Beach and back...It turns out they were headed back home and simply wanted to stop and catch up with me. It's cool how technology keeps friends together.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTBZDCvw4iqgxGtIbzhC-gD2Vl7vPIzisqlI3XcOhE3JrQmutP0I0-P_WH6WPxxT-NLygOxotilxLUheNGk05wNqjQvm5NjYurNcIWXVZHNpaJt0ARZiAs4g2N_fNwelbv2qPGza7OUBQ/s1600/IMG_20140802_162423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTBZDCvw4iqgxGtIbzhC-gD2Vl7vPIzisqlI3XcOhE3JrQmutP0I0-P_WH6WPxxT-NLygOxotilxLUheNGk05wNqjQvm5NjYurNcIWXVZHNpaJt0ARZiAs4g2N_fNwelbv2qPGza7OUBQ/s1600/IMG_20140802_162423.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a><span style="text-align: center;">65 miles later, I got home and discovered my father making an incredible meal for a late lunch! What a treat! I jumped in the shower, cleaned up, changed clothes for the drag race and then I quickly scarfed down 2 massive plates worth of good Peruvian home cooking! So after a quick recovery nap, I jumped into my truck and headed over to the annual Myrtle Beach Drag Race and Swap meet. All the usual suspects were there already looking for parts or showing off their drag race steeds. The rain as it had been all day was hanging heavy and threatening to make this event a very wet one indeed. From the turnout, it seemed no one was scared off because of the rain. I laid out my massive amount of extra bike parts to sell on a nearby table hoping to get rid of it all today. I then turned my attention to my bike which I was going to drag race. My legs were tight from my earlier ride, but a quick spin helped shake out the cobwebs. I proceeded lining up and just like that we were racing! Two at a time, racers went up and tested each other until only two racers were left, James Cooper and I.</span><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;"> Oh this was going to be good. Go! Off we sped, I started out simply heckling James as we raced down the stretch only to find out his bike picked up speed quickest in the 3rd stretch! He started to roar ahead as I scrambled to maintain my composure and proceed with my attack. James shook his head at me as I sped away from him. I whizzed thru with a win as clearly none of the stronger guys had managed to show up yet, so the race was most definitely unbalanced. The Slow Mo race was definitely my favorite as it relied on balance and handling skills. I crisscrossed my way across from rider to rider, cutting them off, forcing them to lose their balance and touch the ground. It was so much fun! Earlier in the competition, I had cut off another competitor with an illegal fakie move and the judges stripped me of my win in this category, but that was ok as I had won enough to qualify for free beer! The best thing about this event is the laid-back feel and simply checking out what everyone is riding nowadays. Selling bike parts and leaving with cash in hand is always a great feeling as well. </span><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">Afterwards, everyone got ready for the first ever Myrtle Beach Alley Cat Race which would send racers all over the Myrtle Beach area based on clues. This race was a blast! We started from Beach Bikes after having to run around the building to pick up our cue sheets. After running back around, I grab my bike and proceed to huddle up in a corner to hash out the best route through the city. Once again, not knowing all the right places makes it hard for one to really do good in events such as these. I hashed out that the furthest point away would be the market commons area where the MB Bicycle Fix was located, so I took off like a rocket. I thought I was the only one going this way since I first saw a number of riders scooting out towards Celebrity Square, but I then heard a familiar sound to me....a mountain bike tire hum. Just when I thought I was alone, here comes David Hall flying along and passing me in an instant. I quickly jumped on his wheel and we fell into a furious draft speed train. It was a pretty cool feeling speeding through the back streets of Myrtle Beach. We picked up some more riders and soon, Enoel and a few others joined the train to Market Commons. Dave picked up the pace upon reaching Kings Hwy and soon, the group broke into several pieces. I went off the back as I had nothing really left in the tank after my longer ride earlier that day as well as the drag race fun. So I sped along to the first checkpoint, took my photo of the store, and sped off to what I assumed was the next checkpoint. I sped back down to Ocean Blvd and stumbled through then next few checkpoints as I had a little difficulty finding them due to my lack of knowledge of the total area. I did, however, remember where the underground tunnel was at Sea Mist! Onwards we sped down Ocean Blvd, riders going every which way! I found myself drafting a few vehicles at speeds around 30-mph..it was awesome. Traffic was gridlocked nearing Ripley's so lane splitting did occur and it was hectic. I had my eyes open wide and both hands ready on the brakes as I flew through the middle of the lanes...alley cat madness! After reaching a checkpoint at the top of the Pavilion Parking garage, I made the sad discovery that I had missed a checkpoint 2 miles back at Market Commons. After some serious reassessment, I decided I could not go back in a realistic time and get the checkpoint. My race was over. Some of the reason for the loss had to do with the fact that my cue sheet list deteriorated way back after reaching checkpoint 2. The night's moisture had eaten into the eco-friendly printer paper and turned it back into a mash of wood pulp. I had since been feeding off of Enoel's list since he had his in a ziplock bag, which was still filling with moisture every time we opened it. We went around and picked up all the rest of the checkpoints and chalked it up to having a great night riding bikes through Myrtle Beach. We ended up at a pretty cool bar named Atlas..they had great beer and treated us very, very nice. Had an awesome time chatting with all my friends.. Overall, it was a great night, and I totally look forward to next year's event. </span><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">Thanks to all of the following.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;">Hoi Polloi Bicycle Club - Myrtle Beach </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=256440231052711" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Red-Bluff-Re-Cycle-Works/256440231052711" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">Red Bluff Re-Cycle Works</a><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=138380619559598" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Hero-Tattoo/138380619559598" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">Hero Tattoo</a><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=328508510590095" href="https://www.facebook.com/TheMyrtleBeachBicycleFix" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">The Myrtle Beach Bicycle Fix</a><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=571668626254305" href="https://www.facebook.com/fatmansdream" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">Fat Man's Dream</a><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1513563079" href="https://www.facebook.com/bobby.altman.3" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">Bobby Altman</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"> of </span><a href="http://www.bobbyaltman.com/" rel="nofollow nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break" style="display: inline-block;"></span>www.bobbyaltman.com/</a><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=1396482050596618" href="https://www.facebook.com/AtlasTapHouse" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">Atlas Tap House</a><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=112181905462277" href="https://www.facebook.com/fuapparel" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">Forever United</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"> </span><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=141991375832967" href="https://www.facebook.com/teamfua" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">Forever United Apparel</a><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=230913070280121" href="https://www.facebook.com/cyclopediabicycleshop" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">Cyclopedia Bicycle Shop</a><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=89230153662" href="https://www.facebook.com/MellowMushroomMyrtleBeach" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">Mellow Mushroom Myrtle Beach</a><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=154491472858" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Tim-Wilsons-Glass-Services-Inc/154491472858" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">Tim Wilson's Glass Services Inc.</a><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /><a aria-haspopup="true" aria-owns="js_67" class="" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=172342951438" href="https://www.facebook.com/NewSouthBrewing" id="js_68" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;" tabindex="0">friends of New South Brewing</a></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Photo Credits:</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/charles.slate.3?fref=ts" target="_blank">Charles Slate</a></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/Soulnova?fref=ts" target="_blank">Jeb Brigman</a></span></div>
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LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-32208403673760967212014-06-04T03:16:00.000-04:002014-06-04T17:41:23.551-04:00Dirty Kanza 200 : A day in the grasslands of Kansas.. <br />
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For many years now, I have read about other rider's tales of woe and personal success when racing across the vast gravel expanses of Kansas. The Dirty Kanza is a 202 mile gravel road race across the Flint Hills of Kansas. It, to me, had become the pinnacle of must do gravel events. For the past two years, I had imagined and visualized what it would be like to attempt this race. Gear reviewers taunted me with the "Dirty Kanza" by relating their testing experiences by having ridden their gear during the race. If it held up and rode well in Kanza, then their gear had the ultimate seal of approval. Veteran gravel racers would throw around the "Dirty Kanza" statement to prove they had done the minimum requirements necessary to be taken seriously in a discussion or conversation regarding their current gravel races and travels. I had to do this race to fully understand what they meant!<br />
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THE DECISION:</div>
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In early January of 2014, I successfully registered for the Dirty Kanza which has an extremely quick fill window in terms of registrants. I could not believe I was in! For many years, I had tried to enter Leadville 100 and was unsuccessful, thus my surprise at being able to get into this race. Part one was complete. Now I had to shake off the doubt and get real.</div>
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THE BIKE:</div>
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I quickly started planning out a race rig which would carry me through the event. I was divided between outfitting my Salsa Selma with gears or racing my Salsa Vaya. The Selma fits me like a glove and since she is titanium, makes efforts easier to muddle through. After some careful fit alterations and experiments, I finally decided on the Vaya since she rides more upright and would treat my body better on the longer than normal cruise across Kansas. I outfitted her with WoodChippers and swapped out the stock wheels for a custom solution I have been working on for a few months now. I ordered an SP dynamo PD-8 hub, some Stan's Flow rims(regressed to Flows after experiencing a defective Stans Flow EX) and with the help of local wheel smith, Chris Moore, I was rocking and rolling on a new set of bullet proof wheels. I double taped the bars to allow me to comfortably run gloveless as I knew the heat in Kansas is a factor and wanted optimal cooling efficiency since I tend to run pretty warm myself. I had initially started my experimental race rig with VeeRubber V10s after finding them on sale via PricePoint, but wow, was that a major mistake. <br />
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The VeeRubber V10s had a weak bead and would spontaneously blow off the rim tubed or tubeless! It was a very disturbing discovery. I had bought extras being that they were on sale, so I slapped on another and it held tight. So, I chalked it up to the fact that I had one defective tire. Wrong! During a ride in the weeks leading up to the race, my rear tire managed to malform at the far end of a long day in the saddle in 102 degree heat. Fortunately the tire bubble popped and the Stan's fluid filled in the hole. This left me with a lumpy tire for the next 15 miles until I arrived at a gas station and called for an extraction. Ironically, I had ordered some of the new WTB Nano 40c tires which I was planning on using later this season for my ultralight <a href="https://www.facebook.com/HellholeGravelGrindStageRace">Hell Hole</a> gravel racing rig. After consulting with my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mt-Pleasant-Velo-Cycling-Team/120105051437204">MTP Velo</a> teammate, Patrick Lackey, I mounted the WTB tires on the Vaya in about 20 minutes with no issues on bead seating and quickly made a decision to abandon VeeRubber from all future endeavors and applications. Being that I had a dynamo, I also ordered and mounted SuperNova E3 front and rear lights. This would be handy if I was not able to finish before dark. One final thing was to decide on carry on equipment. I chose Revelate to carry my spare tubes, lube, <br />
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multitool, extra 30oz of collapsible water, Sinewave inline power conditioner, as well as cellphone, maps, cue sheets, emergency whistle/compass, knife, and lots of chamois butter. A Revelate gas tank held my assorted quick grab foods such as Gels, munchies, and a can of V8, and tylenol if needed. On the bars, I mounted a SPOT tracker for emergency purposes, a Garmin 810, and a Banjo Brothers cue sheet holder(borrowed). After a few more test rides, I found the bike to be as good as it can be, so I stopped fiddling with it.<br />
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THE BODY:</div>
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During the same time I was nervously preparing my rig, I was also riding lots of various terrain such as Pisgah, Georgia, road and gravel. I initially started with Total Cyclist indoor training rides, which are tremendously fun and productive. Unfortunately, they were hard to get to on time as I stayed pretty busy and they also were not providing me with the base miles I desperately needed. I therefore simply started doing what I normally do. Setout midday and ride gravel until dark focusing on time blocks instead of power output. I started with 1 hour blocks and quickly moved to 3 hour blocks which were the most recurring. I then allocated time on the weekends to do at least one large effort with 5+ hours. Then I started mixing it up with trips to Pisgah and anywhere else I could ride. A bike packing trip in Georgia left me feeling very confident, but unsure about my Kanza status. I also did another solo preride of the Pisgah Monster CX course which left me feeling very confident as I followed it up with another strong day sweeping the Pisgah 111k course. I felt strong, I was riding strong and my efforts were showing it. Was I ready for Kanza? Not really....</div>
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THE ARRIVAL:</div>
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My final effort right before Kanza left me wondering what the hell happened. A quick out and back with Patrick had me feeling weak and drained. Patrick chalked it all up to nerves. I hope he was right. A week later, he and I headed out to Kansas to challenge ourselves over the course of 200 miles. We stayed at the Emporia State University Dormitory which was really nice although insanely cold inside. I had forgotten my sleeping bag and pillow in my garage , so I donned my only pair of jeans on as well as shorts over them and my rain jacket and still suffered a cold night's sleep the first night in town. Yay! The following day, after an awesome breakfast and efficient registration, a new sleeping bag and pillow from the local Wally World ensured a warm restful night's sleep the day before the big event. We then went back to the dorm to grab our bikes and do a little light spinning of the gravel. Rolling thru Emporia was nice as they have good shoulders for riders to safely stay away from vehicles. <br />
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Upon hitting the gravel, my first thoughts were wow...it is beautiful...colors were vibrant, gravel was gritty and not sandy like back home. Wind at the start was at our backs, so we rolled along like super humans with an easy 18-20mph pace.... After reaching an agreed upon turnaround point, we started pedaling back...into the wind. Damn, I thought...this is going to be a tough race. The relentless wind left me nowhere to hide dwindling our speed to a max of 13mph. My hopes of completing the Dirty Kanza 200 were getting fuzzy. Afterwards, we returned to town for coffee at the Granady and think about how the course was going to affect us the next day. Then back to the dorms for a shower and back to town for the pre-dinner Pasta-Palooza.<br />
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This was such a cool dinner cooked up with loving care by little ol' ladies ( as described by Jim Cummins). The variety of pasta dishes available was unreal and really kept my stomach busy for hours afterwards as it all agreed with me nicely. Various well known athletes made an appearance and mixed in with the lesser humans for a fantastic evening of conversation and gravel racing shoptalk. Upon completion of dinner, Patrick and I set out for a quick beer and roll towards the dorm as our sleep window was upon us. Many new friends and acquaintances were made along the way as my good friend James Cooper had mentioned he knew James Barringer of <a href="https://www.facebook.com/newtonbicycleshop">Newton Bike Shop</a>. After chatting with him for a bit and checking out the new fat bike that his test rider, Tim, was going to be riding, he offered to let me ride it. It was a super fun Origin8 26x4 <br />
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with a NuVinci rear drive. The shifting was seamless and it amazed me how it changed the concept of acceleration and power output. After hanging out a bit longer to buy some Kanza souvenirs, we hit the local pub Mulready's.<br />
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They had a DK200 Kolsch on tap only available for DK200 racers...it was good stuff. I had 2. <a href="http://timekchronicles.blogspot.com/2012/06/racing-kansas-sun.html">Tim Ek</a>, who inspired the "racing the sun" concept was there carb loading before the main event as well. We finished our beers and then we exited for the dorms. Waiting out the sleep monster before this event was outright torture. Everything was set and perfect. Alarms were set for 4:15am as we had to get to breakfast and be on the start line prior to 6am. Then I slept....</div>
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THE RACE:</div>
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Morning came in as fast and furious as the start of the race. I rolled out of my cot, "kitted" up, grabbed my bike and we rolled on over to the breakfast station. Inside, I order a tasty breakfast burrito. I really wish I hadn't as it felt like it was sitting in my already bloated belly from the Pasta-Palooza....We roll up to the start/finish line and there are several riders there already. They start pouring in by the dozens. Roller Derby girls are holding up signs with anticipated completion times on them. 12 hours, 14 hours, 16 hours....etc. Patrick plants himself at the back of the 12 hour pack. I tell Patrick I really <br />
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should be back in the 16 hour pack, but he insists to stay close as I have better handling skills than most of them and I would do best to try and hang onto a strong wheel as long as humanly possible before resigning myself to ride into the wind solo. I defer to his advice and stay close. I know this is part of the tactics we had previously discussed, but looking around at all the ultra light racerX equipment and determined looks, I felt like I was out of place. Then after lots of official words were spoken, I heard Jim yell GO! </div>
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Just like that we were being pace escorted out of town. The excited energy pulsing from the racers was electrifying! I held onto my spot on Patrick's wheel and hoped the pace would be civil. It was not. As soon as the gravel approached, the fast and the furious bared their teeth. The race was on! I lunged forward to hold onto a wheel and realized Patrick had also reacted. He sped forward and I finally latched back onto him. It was intense trying to get accustomed to the frenetic pace as well as the varying skill levels of the riders all around me. Add to that, the tandems and the single speeds and the fat bikes and the guys on randonneurs....It was crazy! All 1200 of them grinding gravel at 25+ miles per hour... There were heaps of dust, early morning fog and the sound of gears changing repeatedly. The fog made the dust stick to my glasses, my teeth, and my arms and legs...The moist air left my hands slippery on the bars as I had opted to race sans gloves. Then after about 15 miles in the changes started to occur. The lead pack showed that this was just a warmup and pulled away from us in the second pack in a powerful leap forward. I lifted my head up in awe as they left us working harder than ever to bridge <br />
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the gap....it was the beginning of the end for myself as I knew that before I even reached the first checkpoint, I would be riding solo. After about 10 more miles, my pack started showing signs of weakness. Lots of wildcards started splitting down the middle of the pack, swerving around the sides and a few near misses and even a wreck during an uphill attempt to pass. The ground in Kansas is interesting....while sandy and gravelly on top, it is solid rock just a few inches underneath which meant you had to be sharp at all times. I worried for the first 50 miles about how the jagged terrain of the course would affect my tires as all I witnessed the entire race were riders repairing flat tires or mangled derailleurs. Surprisingly, the MTB skills really paid off here as I bunny hopped cattle grates, maneuvered through rock gardens and powerslid thru corners with ease. The WTB Nano tires were an excellent choice and I was truly happy to have them on my bike as it was one less thing to worry about. I seemed to be really enjoying the fact that I was moving along a a good clip until I realized I was going too fast for my own good. The realization came when I noticed Patrick was behind me and not up in front. I had jumped the gun in the frenzied split, and I was going to pay for that energy burst later. I started to throttle myself and find my way back in a massive pack of racers wanting to move forward...It was definitely a nice feeling on my legs to ease off and I knew this was a good decision. I never knew when Patrick passed back by me, but I am sure it was amidst a pack of organized riders which I let go by. Ironically the massive group I was riding in mostly all split away when the course split the 100 from the 200 milers! I maintained a pace of 15.5 mph for the longest time as I felt great and it was slow enough to allow other mad riders by me. I rode thru a river crossing while everyone else was carrying their bikes through. Too much fun! Mile after mile flew by and the scenery grew more and more incredible. The greens were so vibrant, the gravel was much more coarse and the sky got bigger and bigger....I was feeling small. In all the race start hustle, it seems I had forgotten to turn on my SPOT tracker! I turn it on and hope someone at home is <br />
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entertained by my moving dot. I concentrated on the distance left before reaching checkpoint #1 as well as drinking and eating. Everything was going fine and checkpoint #1 soon arrived....</div>
<div>
I was so surprised to have reached checkpoint #1 so easily, that I just sat there wondering what to do first. Then I jumped into action, reloaded my water bottles as all 3 were empty, and ate a Honey Stinger Waffle. My support crew person came up and handed me an ice cold cup of Gatorade and it went down so smooth. It was perfectly mixed and I wanted more. I had another and chugged it. My 5 minute timer went off and I rolled away from checkpoint #1 up a super steep road climb out of town! Warmed up from the quick climb, my mind kept racing to that tasty Gatorade I left behind. I then realized my own mix was too harsh, especially at the warmer temp, and that was the reason the Gatorade was so appealing. Too late now, I had to adjust and persevere. Onwards I went onto checkpoint #2. This stretch was wide open with lots of unmanaged roads and craggy water crossings and cattle grates. Lots of tricky rocky sections also made this flat tire hell. Thankfully, I never suffered a flat. As I pedaled onwards, the hills grew steeper with more frequency. It was one roller after another for some areas and they left me extremely drained from each effort. I then realized I was going to have to change my riding style in order to survive the day. No more stand up efforts, use lower gears, attack the hills if you have momentum and then downshift. It was all muscle survival tactics. I rolled onwards determined to adapt. My pace dropped to about 13mph. I felt tremors in the backs of my upper arms at this point as the pain of riding in the drops for this amount of time was weighing down on me intensely. In order to attack the downhill with total control, I had to remain in the drops as this position worked well on these bars. This position also seemed to work well on the long, slow arduous climbs...so it really did a number on my wimpy arms. I had to keep reminding myself to eat and drink as all I was concerned with was making the cutoff time for checkpoint #2. The heat started to rise as the morning mist dissipated. I worried about how hot exactly it would be around 3pm since this was just the beginning. I also started to realize I may have lost the race against the sun and just needed to "race my own race". Feeling a bit weak in the legs, I chugged a V8, ate a Goo, washed it all down with water and proceeded to pedal forward. Then I realize I had depleted all of my water and was still about 8 miles out. I hoped it was an easy 8. I start to wonder if I should go ahead and hit my emergency water bladder when I look up and see a town coming into focus in the distance...it was checkpoint #2!</div>
<div>
I pedal into a madhouse of a checkpoint #2. There were riders laying on their backs everywhere. Riders working on mechanicals, moaning about continuing onwards...madness. I sat under the shade of a tree by the support tent and let them fill my water bottle with ice cold gatorade...I ate my honey stinger protein bar and some olives, chugged another V8 and washed it all down with...NOT <br />
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gatorade...I asked the support guy what he filled my bottle with and he explained that they had run out of gatorade and were using Gu Brew electrolytes tablets instead. It was not what I wanted to drink, but I was super hot and thirsty and my SAG bag bottles had been left out in the sun and were hot themselves. I mixed my SAG bottles up with half of the GuBrew water to cool them down reloaded everything made sure all my water was cold, walked around for a bit and heard my 5 minute timer alert me to start moving again. So off I went with 100 miles of Kansas tackled and a 100 more to go. The terrain now changes to much, much longer drawn out grinds up gravel roads which stretch out for miles. I could see little pin dots moving slowly like ants as far as my eyes could focus. The first 12 miles are like this...and it is just miserable. It is like being in a desert with no end. The heat and wind were starting to pound down pretty hard and I was drinking water more often. My Garmin reported upper 90s on the temperature readings, but the wind kept things cool, so it was a tradeoff. I finally reach the left turn away from the wind and find my pace change from 10-12 to 15-18. I really start moving along now, but I notice I am burning up! The wind was now at my back and since there was no wind in my face, I was feeling more direct heat from the sun. No win there. I pedaled along attacking roller after roller with tactical power climbs up one side, mad downhill speeds and high geared power attacks up the other sides. I used every trick I could to keep from having to spin tiny gears and reduce my rolling speed. My pace stayed steady at about 12-13mph. It all seemed to be working until I realized at around mile 135, I had run out of water again. I had to stop and drink half of my bladder emergency water. I was nervous about being on such a low amount of water, but I pedaled on knowing that if I had to, I had iodine tablets to get some water from a random stream as long as the water was running, hoping it wasn't directly in line with a cow pasture...It was at this point that the course started to open up to more and more cattle grazing openly. There were more cows than ever before! After pedaling up some of the steepest rocky gravel roads ever, I worked my way up to a radio tower which turned into a paved road...checkpoint #3 was getting close. </div>
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I started pedaling harder to get here hoping I had beat the final cutoff time base on my stops to handle my water issues. Checkpoint #3 is a success! I arrive in Cottonwood Falls quite dehydrated, near bonking and my support person, Laura, noticed that and immediately offered a Coke and water. I also ate chips and a pickle and immediately start to feel much better. She refills my water bottles with GuBrew water and I refill my bladder with plain water. I grab a banana, relax for a few more minutes as I planned on a 15 minute rest at checkpoint #3, but I think I rolled out within 10...As I roll out, I am filled with</div>
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a sense of empowerment upon making it this far with no major issues. I feel the need to step up my game as I planned on making it in well before midnight. I roll through herds of cattle in the middle of the gravel road, some barely scraping against my handlebars. I upped my pace and started attacking climbs with more power. The rollers around this point were tight and packed together with very few relief spots in-between. I stopped in front of some very nice people's house who were offering hose water showers and water refills. It felt nice in the rising heat and the water tasted great. Regardless, I rode hard and started to feel the results of my abuse. The heat was at the point where it was pounding into my skull and left me dizzy and a bit weak. I felt sleepy as I was pedaling and found it hard to concentrate. I shook it off and developed a piercing headache. I rode through it up until I was so dizzy I had to get off the bike. At around mile 175, I experience dead legs and intense dizziness combined with a nauseous stomach. I stood there beside my bike leaning heavily while rider after rider passed by me asking if I was ok.. I guess at some point I really did not look ok as a rider mumbled something to his group about how terrible I looked and had stopped to help me. I looked at him through a cloudy mind and let him know I was ok and then I turned and puked everything I had on the bridge. It kept coming and coming and my legs buckled. I was exhausted from the heat. He mumbled something about "thats not good" and called my support crew to come and pick me up. I was too weak to argue at the time, so I just walked back and sat down for a moment. He said help is on the way and if I needed anything else. I told him all will be fine as I ate my banana and drank some of my colder water. I asked him to continue his race and he reluctantly agreed. Great people out here!! So after what seemed like a few days, the sun set and the air cooled. Growing bored, I surfed FaceBook on my phone to see that all my friends back home were tracking me and keeping up with my progress. At this point the race became more than just personal, and I knew that I had to finish this thing. I was feeling much better after some rest and the food and water, so I called support to cancel my extraction. She said she would put a cancel on the request and to please let them know how things were progressing. I roll onwards shaky, but happy with my decision to complete the race. As night fell, I found myself rolling along in the darkness with only my dynamo lights shining brightly all the way. Millions of fireflies dotted the pastures, and lots of riders lights could be seen all around. After one more recovery stop to make sure everything was working right, as well as listening to the coyotes fighting in the distance and the sliver of a moon glowing overhead, I plowed onward to finish this race. Lots of DK200 parties were going on out here. Bonfires, people cheering us on, free water and "fat" coke. Upon getting closer to Emporia, I notice a giant beacon of lights letting me know where I needed to be. I pedaled harder, found myself in the city, then whisked out onto yet another gravel road. Only this one I recognized from the previous day's preride. I pedal hard as I can and see roads up ahead. I roll into town and cut through the Emporia University with its Dirty Kanza chalk art sidewalks and down main street where some diehard fans are still waiting and handing out hi-fives. I roll down the center and am presented with my finishers cup and a handshake from Jim himself...I park my bike and collapse onto a nearby street corner... body writhing in pain, now fully realizing the effort I imposed on my body. After a few hard long fought minutes, the pain is subsided by a fellow sympathetic racer in the form of a Centennial IPA beer...pain neutralized temporarily, I set about restoring my vitals. Dirty Kanza 200...what an experience.</div>
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<div>
THE RETURN:</div>
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After coming about, Patrick shows up to help me limp back to the dorm. I learn that he did beat the sun and will be getting a special prize for that accomplishment. He looks worse than I do and has a harder time moving about. Sleep comes easily that night and morning comes just as quickly as we need to now check out, load up and head towards the awards ceremony for a free breakfast and one last time to hangout with fellow riders. I end up winning a really cool bike rack system from KUAT called The NV. It is a nice way to end a long weekend as we roll out of Kansas. Upon our drive home, we had forgotten that one of our goals while out here was to eat "Kansas City Style" bbq ribs. We didn't remember until we were in Missouri, so we compromise and stop at a place called S & S BBQ in St Louis, MO for some of the most incredible bbq I have had in quite some time. I experience "oinkers" which are a cheese and pulled pork filled hushpuppy of sorts. Too much! After sometime oohing and ahhing over our incredible lunch, we roll<br />
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onwards towards home, stopping briefly in a Tennessee hotel to handle sleep deprivation. Morning had me driving and I was treated to the Cherokee National forest as well as the Pisgah Forest as the sun was coming up....what beauty.</div>
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THE CONCLUSION:<br />
Firstly, the people of Kansas are some of the nicest folk on the planet. They are truly sincere and seem to go out of their way to help you! The support staff was also super awesome and made my suffering manageable...I could not have completed this race without them. Finally, Jim Cummins and his entire crew are a special kind of awesome in how they continue to communicate with you up to and after the day of the race. I have never EVER seen or experienced that level of dedication to an event in all my years of racing bicycles...Good Job, keep it up guys! </div>
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The 2014 Dirty Kanza 200 marks one of the tougher races I have competed in to date. You may be reading this thinking "Joel, you have ridden hundreds of miles in the Pisgah region as well as other very challenging areas and terrain".. Why would I claim this one to be the toughest race to date? The mental preparation for a remote race like this was very challenging and I truly wanted to accomplish it on my first try. While I am satisfied with completion of this race, I know that I could return and go much faster in a shorter period of time due to my understanding of what needs to happen. As of right now, it is too soon to make those kind of decisions as I also know there are many other mtb, gravel and bike packing challenges awaiting out there, both organized and unorganized. So I will continue riding my bike and see where I end up next...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">DK 200 Finishers Cup</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
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<div>
WHAT WORKED:</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Tires: WTB Nano 40c</li>
<ul>
<li>>> they rocked!</li>
</ul>
<li>Salsa WoodChippers</li>
<ul>
<li>>> super comfortable and lots of hand positions.</li>
</ul>
<li>Salsa Vaya</li>
<ul>
<li>>> excellent positional geometry, although Ti frame would be nicer</li>
</ul>
<li>Revelate Bags</li>
<ul>
<li>>> held my stuff well and never gave me grief</li>
</ul>
<li>SP Dynamo Hub</li>
<ul>
<li>>> saved me multiple times for all my electrical needs</li>
</ul>
<li>SPOT Tracker.</li>
<ul>
<li>>> It actually did a decent job tracking</li>
</ul>
<li>Extra Collapsible water bladder</li>
<ul>
<li>>> I didn't want to bring it, but saved the day during peak heat.</li>
</ul>
<li>Breathable moisture wicking cycling cap</li>
<ul>
<li>>> My simple little hat kept my eyes from burning with dripping sweat.</li>
</ul>
<li>My nutrition</li>
<ul>
<li>>> as much chaos as I incurred by switching to different liquids, I kept my electrolytes stable enough to not experience cramps.</li>
</ul>
<li>Cooler Weather</li>
<ul>
<li>>> My system ran better towards the beginning of the day and into the night.</li>
</ul>
<li>Garmin 810</li>
<ul>
<li>>> tracked my route</li>
<li>>> successfully navigated me back to Emporia</li>
</ul>
<li>Bag Balm</li>
<ul>
<li>>> Kept me chafe free nearly all day</li>
</ul>
<li>SP Dynamo PD8 Hub</li>
<ul>
<li>>> Kept my phone charged all day</li>
<li>>> Saved my routing when my Garmin threatened low battery. Charged up 20% within 10 miles.</li>
</ul>
</ul>
<ul><ul>
</ul>
</ul>
</div>
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<div>
WHAT DIDN'T WORK:</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>VeeRubber</li>
<ul>
<li>>> I was fortunate enough to have all my failures with this tire occur near home.</li>
</ul>
<li>My nutrition</li>
<ul>
<li>>> the liquid nutrition I chose tasted extremely foul with heat applied.</li>
<li>>> I also chose food items which I did not care to eat when the heat got to me.</li>
<li>>> I actually craved real bananas instead of Goo and V8</li>
<li>>> I do not know how the olives affected my system</li>
<li>>> Switching to the GuBrew tablets during a race like that was extremely foolish</li>
</ul>
<li>Hotter Weather</li>
<ul>
<li>>> My system does not do well under hot conditions, but I was able to manage myself throughout.</li>
</ul>
<li>Garmin 810</li>
<ul>
<li>>> Buggy system freaked out after checkpoint #1 and kept wanting me to do a u turn. I had to carefully restart the course while not restarting my ride tracking. UGGH!</li>
<li>>> Battery started to die after 11 hours.</li>
<li>>> Newer is not always better. I do not recommend this unit.</li>
</ul>
<li>Chamois Butter</li>
<ul>
<li>>> upon application, it trapped my moisture and started to cause softening of the skin which almost resulted in a severe chafing situation. fortunately I stopped reapplying and stuck with my base of bag balm...</li>
</ul>
</ul>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Patrick, the Sun Chaser...</td></tr>
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LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-86773750087415725912010-11-15T16:26:00.000-05:002010-11-15T16:26:46.269-05:00CBC Cyclocross Race#2After getting home late from a seminar at BarCamp the previous day, I had very little motivation to get up early and race my butt off. Surprisingly, I was up around 7am and feeling almost awake by 8. That must have meant I was still a little hungover from last nights fun... I made myself some coffee, got suited up, loaded up the bike & gear and headed over for race #2 of the CBC Cyclocross series...I was certainly not expecting to be able to perform today like I did last week, but curious to see if my hectic week really does play a factor on my performance level. In other words, I was experimenting on myself. I already knew the expected outcome, I just wanted to verify it. Verification complete. Without an proper night's sleep and a generous amount of mental and physical preparation, I am a sluggish toad.<br />
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The weather was perfect. No extra layers were needed...The course was tough and very different from last week. It would have definitely been in a mountain bikers favor if I had selected the proper gear and had enough strength to turn the pedals...I ran a 42x12 and really suffered right from the start: Mental preparation error: make sure you can race with the gear you chose...There was inclined forest loam singletrack, layered hillclimbs and sandpit turn traps. It was gonna be a tough day for sure. <br />
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Starting line: the man said go and I couldn't. The entire pack took off and I sat there trying to get my pedals turning for what seemed like forever. As I finally got things moving, I snapped into position in the back of the lead pack. Knowing after only 1-2 laps that I would not be able to hold this pace, I totally backed off and just let people fly by for a while just pedaling along deciding if I should just quit. I found my body really fighting me to stay moving and my legs were like two slabs of rock. I kept pedaling along waiting to get past this wall and hope the blast came back soon. It came back, but a little too late. 35 minutes in, I finally started to pick things up and felt a little better flowing along, but still hating my gear selection. I dealt with the slow pedaling and started being more efficient in use of my brake as I only had a front brake on the bike because my rear one was at home in pieces. I then picked up the riders I had targeted to let slip by and placed decent gap between us and I started trying to level my pace to survive the remaining 10 minutes. Then my chain flew off and I had to stop and fix it. 4 riders flew by again and once again I jumped on and took off after them. I don't know how I was able to chase them down, but I picked off 3 of them once again and just could not catch the remaining rider in a "Trek" jersey riding just ahead of me...defeated, spent, hungover.<br />
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I went out there today to really test myself against the factors of life. I realized that just because life hands you a hectic week, you shouldn't hide inside on the weekends as a result. Challenge yourself to the fullest everytime you can. I may have lost this race on several levels, but I gained some valuable keys to winning races in my future where I stand a better chance.<br />
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Good stuff CBC! Thanks for the fun!<br />
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Congratulations to Nathan Smith and David Hall for placing top 2 in Cat 1 Mens!LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-88466844880040574212010-11-15T15:56:00.000-05:002010-11-15T15:56:54.833-05:00BarCamp CHS<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ1l7glxcwNj74DUkv24Op7sY9HBXhcVkphpCqULLuka7HwB-dXFrOrKAyLa8uBJ8XkQGPreSH0PmDN2MzlRu5zRDu8CFGB4oXndQBkUTw6-cOZrumstH6XNqOWUCPCAG1QEkSrK-Ku58/s1600/IMAG0205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ1l7glxcwNj74DUkv24Op7sY9HBXhcVkphpCqULLuka7HwB-dXFrOrKAyLa8uBJ8XkQGPreSH0PmDN2MzlRu5zRDu8CFGB4oXndQBkUTw6-cOZrumstH6XNqOWUCPCAG1QEkSrK-Ku58/s320/IMAG0205.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">I recently attended my first and surely not to be my last<a href="http://barcampchs.org/"> BarCamp in Charleston</a>. It was everything I hoped it would be and a bit more. While it was not an uber:geeky low-level coding seminar like I really want to attend, it was something a bit more diverse. Bar Camp is a loose network of user-generated conferences that allow one to share their most intense technology or other related hobbies and talents with others of like interests...the name itself is a spinoff of the geeky word which developers use frequently in test applications: "foobar". Since there was already a "Foo Camp", the only logical choice was to use "Bar Camp", right? (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BarCamp">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BarCamp</a>). </div><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The words of the day were in no particular order: organic, Drupal, cloud, SQL, confidential, Google, beer, Java...did I mention organic?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Upon arrival, I was worried everything that was to be said would have been spam pushed from some major companies wares, but I was slightly wrong. Yes, there were major influences publicly there such as Google, Yahoo, <a href="http://blastoffgames.net/">BlastOff Games</a>, <a href="http://atdesk.com/flash.html">ATDesk</a>, etc...but they were all low-key and very open in their sharing of information...</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMqHaBURMIiBGzSxfVnTBuE-85p5ZkESJve2ECa9dLEL9BgyW_SxNRa38BBoCsY8N6iIE3yJWhhDHvYXLW0jVaTC8A_KU0jsD8ikk6mbX3Y642U4P9_5pPeil0G3ZOe0rSE48-6BXdKsQ/s1600/IMAG0206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMqHaBURMIiBGzSxfVnTBuE-85p5ZkESJve2ECa9dLEL9BgyW_SxNRa38BBoCsY8N6iIE3yJWhhDHvYXLW0jVaTC8A_KU0jsD8ikk6mbX3Y642U4P9_5pPeil0G3ZOe0rSE48-6BXdKsQ/s320/IMAG0206.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">After registration, I bumped into a few old friends from previous companies I have worked for and we socialized for a few minutes before the sessions got underway. It was great to see so many local talented technology professionals attending this conference! </div><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The first thing that happens at BarCamp is the pitch session. After finding a seat in the auditorium, everyone who wants to hold a seminar goes up before us all and has 30 seconds to lets us know what they are going to be talking about. There is someone on hand to moderate and holds everyone to their 30 seconds which is great because a few presenters were pushing the 30 second limit...60 presenters went up and 60 presentations were to be voted on. The vote was, however, skipped after realization that 10 sessions an hour for 6 hours would fill in the timeline perfectly...Thus, BarCamp started and everyone hurried over to the Seminar wall to find out which seminar to attend during the first hour of BarCamp. My first hour's choice was a seminar on Cybercrime. It sounded interesting and I definitely enjoy figuring out how hackers do what they do, so off I went....</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPwAjVOJ5wfuZHE2OWNtcaeDN34wBJ8iM5xCikgVaQ1wIlDkzTq6EzHs7kIv69GLXEfri4_CAuQ_rw_bndMzOfijYlszysHBl6g1FNaWHxIf0RwDxvmUotvfZbg-7ePHiMpGdA9h0c_Qo/s1600/IMAG0217.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPwAjVOJ5wfuZHE2OWNtcaeDN34wBJ8iM5xCikgVaQ1wIlDkzTq6EzHs7kIv69GLXEfri4_CAuQ_rw_bndMzOfijYlszysHBl6g1FNaWHxIf0RwDxvmUotvfZbg-7ePHiMpGdA9h0c_Qo/s320/IMAG0217.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;"> Late for my first seminar was not a good sign...why I was late is a good question...I must have been trying to make sense of the schedule for too long. I missed his opening case scenario and introduction and wondered if I would even get anything out of this. After hearing all the regular mundane, do's & don'ts about personal information security, the speaker (from <a href="http://www.phishlabs.com/">Phishlabs</a>) hit upon a neat little topic which I thought would be great if he intended to followup entirely. Fortunately, he did followup and described a situation involving the tracking of a generic spam message based on the email address. The basics of the message were unimportant, but the spam senders email (hotmail) address had an IP embedded in it which revealed its origin. Upon tracing that IP back to its source, it was found to be based from some PC in Somewhere, USA. After then being able to contact that actual PC owner directly, it was found out that the PC was in fact infected and was being used as what is sometimes referred to as a <a href="http://netsecurity.about.com/od/frequentlyaskedquestions/qt/pr_bot.htm">Zombie Bot</a>! So, by being able to, with the owners permission, trace back the directed commands being sent to that ZombiePC to perform, they were able to trace it beyond the reflected source. The trace resulted in the command coming from some spot in the Netherlands. After further investigation, it was found to be an IPSec line and not traceable at any point beyond that...Fascinating! This is an organized endeavour! After further analysis of it all, it was found that this entire "system" is made up of coordinated efforts... First someone creates software used to initally infect PCs via undisclosed vulnerabilities. Still another developer writes tools used to "control another persons PC in an efficient and virtually undetectable manner. Then they sell those tools on the blackmarket to someone else needing "infection & control tools". The buyer then uses those tools to setup "virtual harvests" of compromised PCs out there that obey their every command via those secure connections. Well, once that was understood, the speaker even described the technique used to be able to obtain over 5 million actual, not stolen "hotmail" addresses. The buyer basically purchases blocks of valid hotmail address from yet another source which specializes in creating bulk hotmail addresses mappable to the Zombie PCs IPs for tracking purposes. This "email source" even has a special technique in validating these email address to get by the Captcha system by paying people in third world countries pennies per captcha that they decode for them. Once decoded, the captcha answers are zapped back to awaiting automatic scripts specialized in creating the hotmail accounts...It was more than enough to make your head spin! There is a serious game being played out there!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">My next seminar goal was to attend my friend Paul Reynold's: Reading Code for the Layperson...it was a really great seminar and started out simple and thorough. My objective was to see if there were other techniques being implemented out there to write more "readable" code. Halfway through, I remembered the HFT(High Frequency Trading) seminar was going on, so I promptly exited his talk since most of this was review for me. Since I am a novice day-trader, anything having to do with trading, high speed and awesome technology were really intriguing to me. I walk in and realize a friend of mine Nathan Smith whom I ride bicycles with is doing the presentation. They were still going over basics of HFT which I already knew somewhat and made it just in time for the juicy details of what happens during a live transaction. That was pretty cool. Then they explained that there were algorithms (business logic rules) applied to the feed to further analyze and set buy / sell points in a more optimized manner. Truly cool stuff. Live trading feed, realtime analysis, semi-artificial intelligence algorithms used to handle decisions...wow. Then, when I thought I had it all grasped in my head, they said this stuff happens at the rate of some ridiculous # of transactions every 2 micro seconds...micro seconds is equivalent to one millionth of a second...insane..Needless to say, I really got a lot out of this presentation...</div><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPAL_AnaF078-EeHR660ceouvn-4Vzv0Py1u3QYs6OKquKEoiT3KtpSFKP8UDol4l0LiCd91BCKKjM1L86HQvUW_9t69P3ywRREwWa1k98ZKkM9UBvc6DXwyqt-n4lv7WLsDwpVZKIV1g/s1600/IMAG0213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPAL_AnaF078-EeHR660ceouvn-4Vzv0Py1u3QYs6OKquKEoiT3KtpSFKP8UDol4l0LiCd91BCKKjM1L86HQvUW_9t69P3ywRREwWa1k98ZKkM9UBvc6DXwyqt-n4lv7WLsDwpVZKIV1g/s320/IMAG0213.jpg" width="320" /></a>Then off I went to my next seminar: Cracking a Windows accounts...I was curious if other methods existed which were more creative. After 10 minutes in this seminar, I summarized the methods he was going to use and exited promptly not wanting to waste time as I wanted to get some info from <a href="http://www.andrepope.com/">Andre Pope's</a> seminar on "Teacher's Preparation for the upcoming wave of tech-savvy students". Andre is out in the teaching trenches talking about what he is doing in realtime. He speaks from the heart as well as his technically enlightened mind on how he is converging his collaborative knowhow with current teaching methodologies in order to better connect with his current students. As a technical futurist myself, I really can "envision" the realities he is attempting to explain to modern-day teachers. I also gained a lot from this seminar.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Lunch happened afterwards and I got there a little too late as there wasn't much left to choose from. I was able to cobble together a ham and cheese sandwich from some scraps and flung some lettuce in there to help ease the hunger pains...chips were also available. I found myself feeling very much like a kid in high school again not knowing where to sit and overwhelmed by the amount of people already congregated in the eating area...so off I fled to find a nice quiet couch outside the scope of the enormous amount of talking heads...I find a spot near Nathan and continue to pick his brain on the ATD machine itself...not a lot more was gleaned as most of my questions had to do with areas of a confidential nature which he was not at liberty to discuss...I found alot of this door slamming throughout the day with many professionals...regardless, lunch was a good time.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyRf8umxLDWUB4-0CL3aHeU5DximSLnl3X3Spc1NHIFFp-J71txDCeQB1SdKyschx9vxK9L_fQTJZk-vQQErW1F2wf5vEkvKyRqswKZec5_WbZAUfjR7RWD7999USKxmJC3c5I47kF2DM/s1600/IMAG0214.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyRf8umxLDWUB4-0CL3aHeU5DximSLnl3X3Spc1NHIFFp-J71txDCeQB1SdKyschx9vxK9L_fQTJZk-vQQErW1F2wf5vEkvKyRqswKZec5_WbZAUfjR7RWD7999USKxmJC3c5I47kF2DM/s320/IMAG0214.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">Then off to the History of Hacking seminar I went. I had high hopes for this seminar, but found it to be stammered and lacking in essential immediate information. The topic header did not accurately reflect the subject matter and I left early and disappointed. I slipped into the Yahoo Query Language seminar and found it to be a powerful way to get information from the yahoo databases that they allow you access into. It's a great second door if Google APIs start to get bogged down from user glut....</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">At this point, I was getting dizzy from the amount of information being gleaned, but I was determined to make the most of this day. Thanks to the many BarCamp sponsors, delicious Island Coffee was available everywhere and anywhere. Tasty cookies and other sweets were also available as well as major label sodas! </div><div style="text-align: justify;">After getting my fix, I went on to my next seminar: the Google Q&A session. Like the history of hacking, I was also disappointed by this seminar as practically every question you could possibly think to ask was carefully considered, muttered aloud and then redacted as not being able to answer on grounds it could disclose some key piece of the Google Collective. The head Absorbaluff, er I mean speaker smiled and made lots of clever remarks and was able to hop skip and dance his way through a one hour session with no juicy details of the Google empire described. Yes he was that good at dodging questions. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So this was a mjor revelation that at BarCamp, you are just have to realize that you are not going to enjoy everything said, or not said. Its about what you get out of it that matters most....</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">My next seminar was userinterface design with emphasis on the button. Unfortunately, this talk was focused on web design and I absolutely loathe web design, primarily because I suck at it. I can do the technical stuff all day long, but layout, graphics and visual aspects stop me cold. So I left early knowing this was over my head, and went onwards to find out about NoSQL. I had no clue what this was and still don't really have a clue, but from what I determined it is primarily for web-based data management, and allows very loose typing of records...which spells danger in data integrity in my old programmers head, so I get up and leave before I get lazy and adopt this a a new way of programming. I hop into a few other talks and find nothing being accomplished by doing this, so I wait out the hour in a Java seminar and move onto the last seminar of the day: HomeBrew 101...</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9tUBp6mpF9mNNk17rZT1qzgJF7f71SKIf8veNmWGYeT4OkqF58lrKLVD3FG27H9eZDk72DG3mDrRJ1ipEjNf7xn6ceQXB2L43uNq4oh87GapBeZEcFxmlrQYMUgYsbWHLxqDXassAx-M/s1600/IMAG0219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9tUBp6mpF9mNNk17rZT1qzgJF7f71SKIf8veNmWGYeT4OkqF58lrKLVD3FG27H9eZDk72DG3mDrRJ1ipEjNf7xn6ceQXB2L43uNq4oh87GapBeZEcFxmlrQYMUgYsbWHLxqDXassAx-M/s320/IMAG0219.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Yes beer making is one of my passions and this being a 101 seminar would make it simply a review of the basics, but you don't know what you may have never known, and I knew that much so in I went...It was a good review and I was relieved to see that many of the same difficulties I faced in brewing beer were also challenges faced by others. The speaker was clear and focused on the basics. He demonstrated with real equipment and kept it simple and clean the entire time. He keyed in on sanitation many times throughout and stressed it heavily at the end. There were even a few homebrews to try out at the end which really peeked interested from more than a few.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiunCs60_jzdtHnLNfzosd-Gre8e2bDrl4zrYl-ime1jHM6NwjpsZ2RclrkZleR9U9f09gBbF1iaFZVg-4GXsJa9v1gPxJdiRW3XH_sCo55_JRe7Wia58dfw5D5Q3Y5hunobPf4slYHiXs/s1600/74429_10150092423605196_563200195_7749772_7189678_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiunCs60_jzdtHnLNfzosd-Gre8e2bDrl4zrYl-ime1jHM6NwjpsZ2RclrkZleR9U9f09gBbF1iaFZVg-4GXsJa9v1gPxJdiRW3XH_sCo55_JRe7Wia58dfw5D5Q3Y5hunobPf4slYHiXs/s320/74429_10150092423605196_563200195_7749772_7189678_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">Then off to the afterparty! After being mostly on my own floating from one information session to the next, I was now able to catch up with Mikey, Andre, and Paul to discuss BarCamp at the Mellow Mushroom. It was a great time and we talked about anything and everything for more than a few hours eventually finding ourselves back on the path to our homes...what a day!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I am really looking forward to the next BarCamp and hope to have something to present next time myself....</div>LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-73052895939574549412010-11-11T22:42:00.000-05:002010-11-15T12:49:51.679-05:00Pumas Final Match...I must say after seeing my girls play their hearts out on Thursday against the Cougars, I was very optimistic about next season. They played with such passion and fierce desire to prove they are learning, that I was able to stop "coaching" for a little while and just watch the great game unfold. Yes, they did not win, and the odds were stacked against them, but that REALLY did not matter in this match. What mattered was that they completed every basic and intermediate play that is vital for developmental soccer. Defending was outstanding, offense was actually moving the ball downfield, and the attackers really figured out where to go without my constant "coaching" from the sidelines....too much fun to watch! After not seeing that "spark" most of the season, I am glad I was able to witness it once before waiting out winter and starting up again in spring.<br />
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Gooooo PUMAS!LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-12175747891085006632010-11-08T10:24:00.001-05:002010-11-15T12:42:26.033-05:00CBC Cyclocross Race#1After looking forward to this event series all fall, it is finally here! Cyclocross racing time again! Thanks to the guys at <a href="http://www.charlestonbicyclecompany.com/">Charleston Bicycle Company</a> & North Charleston Wannamaker Park, the CBC Cyclocross series is in full effect!<br />
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Upon the initial week before this race, I was in mediocre shape with occasional rides out at Tuxbury, Francis Marion gravel roads and a little bit of Marrington thrown in for variety. I even hit the spinbike for a few days to regulate my cadence and work with more resistance. I was in good shape, but not great shape...too much else going on in my surrounding life to really focus on my passion for cycling right now unfortunately.<br />
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So, the first official cyclocross race of the season crept up on me way too soon and before I knew it, I was loading up the bike in the frosty early morning weather. There was a decent turnout for the first event and the course seemed fast and furious. I wish I had geared up more as I was turning a 42x17 which gave me a decent flat singletrack speed, but a spinny open road speed. So, the race starts with a whimper and I roar like a lion to the front of the pack....front of the pack? really? seriously? Yes, front of the pack is where I set myself and then proceeded to hold that position in the top 4 for the first 3-4 laps...then as expected, I started to fade. I was mentally ready for 30 minutes of hard effort and found that the new combined classes based on little or no expert class resulted in a mixed category race with everyone hammering for 45 minutes instead...so, that was that, I was running on fumes and trying to hold steady. I would burst forward, pass and then fall back and get passed. The last 15 minutes were all like this...tough and high-speed...I was passed on my final lap by one other rider who had been with me neck in neck for quite a while near the end. 6th place would have to do...<br />
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I finished the race with my lungs burning and my heart pounding. It was an indicator that I needed to do more to place better next time around....But how to find the time??<br />
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Overall, lots of fun, lots of support and I definitely heard more than a few cowbells cheering us on, which is great to experience.<br />
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Can't wait till next week!LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-73665872220969628612010-09-20T14:24:00.000-04:002010-09-20T14:24:25.021-04:00Pedaling for Peanuts...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.pedalingforpeanuts.com/index.html"><img border="0" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdCKB-e06ZAsYJL9nziibeP29HbOY9KIbQOEKxFX5EehB15qSSSxegbnywHPrhzQ6_iiB3UuDi_fwHcaGcbyw4QW9_5wUwvTP9sWBqW_EMsJdU6Do6gHDrRhAnfJZs2VY_oz-Wfncnoc/s320/header.png" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> After a long dry spell off the bike, I got the urge to pedal as hard as I could again. I found a neat sounding little grassroots race up in Wilmington called "<a href="http://www.pedalingforpeanuts.com/index.html">Pedaling for Peanuts</a>". It was for a good cause, and it was on trails in the Wilmington area which I had yet to explore, so I was definitely considering it. I started to talk myself out of it a week ago as I did not feel like I was entirely ready for 6 hours solo on the bike yet, but I really wanted to ride. Then, I got a invite to race with an old friend, Marshall Brown, on his Team Yellow Flies as his current partner had to drop out. It did not take me long to decide as this really sounded like a great idea based on my current fitness. I actually mentioned the race to a friend of mine, Justin, who went for it hook, line, and sinker. We trucked up to Myrtle Beach and met up with Marshall and proceeded to catchup along the way. He actually knew of another guy racing this weekend from Charleston, whom I had yet to meet, Ed Thomasson. Funny how many people in common we seem to know....</div><br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIHYAXmvJDMVghCkyaiQJcqqtbP7mRlHBVvXQa7LBmPTybmkO8O9z6GzIe8FXslNQrYeFbs262UtRcKd949_BSKzAnBEb4AeTCDdrkrhXAz702zmImYLI4NSjtKxwMPdvV_BUKCrdYaTc/s1600/IMAG0143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIHYAXmvJDMVghCkyaiQJcqqtbP7mRlHBVvXQa7LBmPTybmkO8O9z6GzIe8FXslNQrYeFbs262UtRcKd949_BSKzAnBEb4AeTCDdrkrhXAz702zmImYLI4NSjtKxwMPdvV_BUKCrdYaTc/s200/IMAG0143.jpg" width="200" /></a> When I got our pit setup, met Ed and the others,and Marshall and myself registered, I started to wonder whether or not my current setup was a good idea based on all this talk of roots, sand and tight turns...I have been pushing myself since the "<a href="http://lowcountryjoe.blogspot.com/2010/09/oramm-2010.html">Great ORAMM Disaster of 2010</a>" to focus on riding taller gears, standing up and hammering more and quit wimping out on climbs by sitting in the saddle and spinning...Instead, I have been riding a super tall gear on the flats of Charleston of 42x12 and found this to be quite a nice bit of resistance. I even rode this gearing on our local trails at Marrington and found it to be one heck of a tough exercise. Thus, I went with the tallest compromise I thought possible: 34x17...which was about 57 gear inches...I was worried about the gearing, the fact that I chose to ride fully rigid, and went with a fatter front tire. Only time on the trail would answer all of my questions.</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2UiQ6qznqbgpzkP3NHGRIMKIUsQzq-1hGRElKzPxE_6_bkavh3blL0FfLGUJXqamLpZs6o1VwnbkJivp0CcaxtB3CZ1Fc32KOh_OXw1IjrhIh3VVDp5zX6-SXBpIguXVZ_Ha811-F5Kg/s1600/IMAG0144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2UiQ6qznqbgpzkP3NHGRIMKIUsQzq-1hGRElKzPxE_6_bkavh3blL0FfLGUJXqamLpZs6o1VwnbkJivp0CcaxtB3CZ1Fc32KOh_OXw1IjrhIh3VVDp5zX6-SXBpIguXVZ_Ha811-F5Kg/s200/IMAG0144.jpg" width="200" /></a></div> I volunteered Marshall to go out for the first lap since I kind of did not want to go out too hard and punish myself right away. Nonetheless, the team style LeMans start had me doing the running and Marshall waiting on me. It was hard to run that fast since I had not sprinted in a long time...I came in second in the sprint and gave the baton to Marshall and off he went into the woods in a great position. I went, sucking for air, back to the tent as the running really worked me over. It felt weird to sit back and wait as I am usually going strong once they yell go until I can't go any further or the end of the race, whichever comes first. Then out of nowhere, here comes Marshall looking strong, and before I know it, I am charging through the woods floating over roots and pumping over the hills. I felt great, the gearing was perfect, and my legs were holding strong. The trail was super tight, twisty, rootier than I imagined and a bit sandy in all the wrong places. Nonetheless, I felt ready for this environment since our local trails share some similar conditions. I flew through the switchback climbs standing up and out of the saddle on every climb. This trail twisted so much that I completely lost my orientation after about 5 miles in. I then simply followed the markings and hoped I was still on the right trail. After what seemed like 10 miles, I popped back out of the woods and into the pits to a surprised Marshall who did not expect me back so soon. I jokingly heckled him to get his gear on and move it! He jumped back into action and I went back to the pits for a bit of downtime. I got antsy after about 5 minutes and wanted to get back out there and race which was a good sign that I recovered from that lap quickly and was ready for more. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjysev2Xo1bEjruLcP6pXu7H7gAF4XGvS-jphe3lx8UqmYZCnABaTn-hFDvMZvrHWZlS_vMyQh_XOP54y-eUCpbfo7S8KcOasEXRFyKCPvraGsYpKOrziwbsr2FX3zsdHNo2n4vgdsRfYg/s1600/IMAG0145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjysev2Xo1bEjruLcP6pXu7H7gAF4XGvS-jphe3lx8UqmYZCnABaTn-hFDvMZvrHWZlS_vMyQh_XOP54y-eUCpbfo7S8KcOasEXRFyKCPvraGsYpKOrziwbsr2FX3zsdHNo2n4vgdsRfYg/s200/IMAG0145.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>My next door pit neighbors, Ed and his crew had cooked some great food and I found myself nibbling and eating stuff I never tried in the middle of a race. Marshall came back out in consistent time and off I went for my second lap. I took off strong and immediately wrapped around a tall berm too hard and my low pressure tire got wrenched off my wheel by a nasty root. I heard the bead pop and the tire went limp. I went sliding off the bike to the right and got up staring at the tire not knowing what action to take. After a moment, I decided to pick up the bike and run back to the pits since they were about 50 feet away. I got back, popped the bead back on with a CO2 quickflate, and re-did my lap. I was about 7-10 minutes down after all of this and still managed to put in a good lap, but unknowing of our current position. Marshall then went out on his third lap still looking strong. I sat back and started replenishing my water and sugars with my <a href="http://www.honeystinger.com/">Honey Stinger</a> goodies. All of the new stuff from Honey Stinger tastes better than ever and am really happy I stick with these products for my race nutrition. After an unusually long wait, I noticed a few teams coming through which I knew were behind us. Then more teams, and Justin flies through once again looking really strong, whom I heard had one of the fastest lap times of the day. I started to worry as I was cooling down fast. I finally hear from Ed's teammate, Spencer, that Marshall had a mechanical and his seat came off. I wonder what Marshall is doing and whether or not I need to start the lap over to get things moving. Before I make any decisions, Marshall comes riding up telling me he has been standup riding for the last 2 miles...yikes! I tell him to try and get his bike fixed before I return and set off on another great, fast and consistent lap. My legs once again felt fantastic! I arrive to find Marshall worried as he was not able to fix his bike and does not know what to do. I ask him if he still wants to ride and if he wants to use my bike. He definitely wants to ride and pedals off on my bike with a worried look on his face. I also start to worry that he is going to get fully punished out there on my bike since it is a singlespeed, fully rigid and not setup for his riding style. I lay back in the pits fairly certain I will not see Marshall again until well after the cutoff time since he is riding a different bike. Justin comes by shortly after looking very strong and I hear rumors that he is the predicted winner by about 20 minutes! I go next door and grab me a plate of some of the best pasta I have eaten in quite some time and savor the tastes. I feel like I had about 4 more hours of pedal time left in my body and am happy to know I am in great shape for the fall season. Then shocker #1 happens, Justin comes crawling out of the woods way too soon with reports of full body cramping and no desire to be on the course any longer, first place gone. Shocker#2 happens shortly afterwards; Marshall comes screaming out of nowhere with 5 minutes to go before cutoff time. He is smiling from ear to ear mentioning something about how awesome my bike is and how much he now loves singlespeeds....another converted soul for the singlespeed army! I take off and then stop short at the checkin area to determine if going out on another lap will change anything...they tell me no since we lost positions because of those mechanicals earlier. I call it a day and coast back to the pits. No podium once again, but it was an excellent day for lap racing. It was hot, humid and one heck of a tough, rooty trail, but fun was had. <br />
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Thanks to Marshall for calling me out to be on his team. <br />
Cheers to Ed, Spencer, Jeremy, and their wonderful wives for the good food!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqbtJVHkOELG4cH505UFcbBpcKdEZR6MbNpo78HaEWxAScL7qAkyxew62MydSfGRXdgSxQSYx_wW5BMRgp0l0-GN84HIdA06sAP0Z-1qBy5YKL3jtXSTBw7adbQrJfP5ZFTMJQ2onlSyA/s1600/IMAG0148.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqbtJVHkOELG4cH505UFcbBpcKdEZR6MbNpo78HaEWxAScL7qAkyxew62MydSfGRXdgSxQSYx_wW5BMRgp0l0-GN84HIdA06sAP0Z-1qBy5YKL3jtXSTBw7adbQrJfP5ZFTMJQ2onlSyA/s200/IMAG0148.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRK0kt_r5_6NWlHr90wANAzudrd1ELHMU6UEr8pOBBHYBvM0tZ2TtGH-6Uu_Qkki1ReRwOT6eQajnPncKyz0c8Gu1XOV2jaNhMWOBlUPzqTFXtyPrtBNMfp-vOmeyCPLXPGf8GQ7bPMg/s1600/IMAG0146.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRK0kt_r5_6NWlHr90wANAzudrd1ELHMU6UEr8pOBBHYBvM0tZ2TtGH-6Uu_Qkki1ReRwOT6eQajnPncKyz0c8Gu1XOV2jaNhMWOBlUPzqTFXtyPrtBNMfp-vOmeyCPLXPGf8GQ7bPMg/s200/IMAG0146.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimM7E_HaMETaBX_NooyVtqn9P2trkHvvl3_r41ZJv3zoiqWi6_iAP28Zf-t9PcU31_vjBhctVztLlVIS6ohLr5xCXm2JICAmzIIBpkYGwWm5EhqL06TJgpkXXtCRBSczaXLwpcCI8GyAM/s1600/IMAG0147.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimM7E_HaMETaBX_NooyVtqn9P2trkHvvl3_r41ZJv3zoiqWi6_iAP28Zf-t9PcU31_vjBhctVztLlVIS6ohLr5xCXm2JICAmzIIBpkYGwWm5EhqL06TJgpkXXtCRBSczaXLwpcCI8GyAM/s200/IMAG0147.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Looking forward to more fun races!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIHYAXmvJDMVghCkyaiQJcqqtbP7mRlHBVvXQa7LBmPTybmkO8O9z6GzIe8FXslNQrYeFbs262UtRcKd949_BSKzAnBEb4AeTCDdrkrhXAz702zmImYLI4NSjtKxwMPdvV_BUKCrdYaTc/s1600/IMAG0143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHFzjgSCtUekx7hv7u3s6WPy4one1BDSb64jAXkOhurytr2wVAV70EmwG2aQW-wDfYvvrqKnyZIhlWchrU4EezFPG7XEmjgLnRhsuSmqS-yKIGoBISA6thQ0Xm8CphJCwnTXSx3IjV_Ng/s1600/IMAG0142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHFzjgSCtUekx7hv7u3s6WPy4one1BDSb64jAXkOhurytr2wVAV70EmwG2aQW-wDfYvvrqKnyZIhlWchrU4EezFPG7XEmjgLnRhsuSmqS-yKIGoBISA6thQ0Xm8CphJCwnTXSx3IjV_Ng/s320/IMAG0142.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-14049963940308624442010-09-15T10:58:00.000-04:002010-09-15T10:58:02.118-04:00ORAMM 2010I guess I could blame it on the ridiculous heat, the fact that I haven't been riding quite as much as I was a few months back, or I could just chalk it up to pure lack of motivation to actually race my bike through 62 miles of some of the toughest backcountry Pisgah has to offer... or maybe it was my 32/20 gearing choice, or maybe it was because I chose to wear a CamelBak this year, or maybe....meh. Too many excuses!<br />
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Regardless, let me finish up this draft post with some information for my own reflectance to never let me be in this position again, if I can help it. I came into the race with some gastrointestinal issues which plagued me for most of the weekend and left me very dehydrated. I also was not mentally prepared this year for the heat onslaught experienced (115 degree index). This combination of factors made the latter part of the race quite uncomfortable for me and I was no longer having fun, so I decided to exit the race after logging in around 42miles and reailzing I still had 20 more of the harder miles left to go. I still think it was a good decision as I heard there was a massive rainstorm upon my expected arrival time which would have made my suffering even greater. Kudos to those who finished! I was stoked to see so many familiar faces racing at stronger levels than before. Congratulations to the CBC bike team guys for enduring their first ORAMM, hope to see you guys at next year's race! <br />
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Next stop, Swank 65...LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3067911057972964253.post-41591572190771077492010-05-10T10:34:00.005-04:002010-05-10T12:56:47.381-04:00The Greenway Grinder - 6 Hours worth...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtDbflMii8cGMTVNJpc_gYXbx79DtE5v5mKM4NZ7oy0MNfPF7e9Ux3EMw8f2Kc2V-1rVrjg0Tg7BOGGXE1ZxsOa1jxZqY08r0awzaQf_h6YicH1Ph0umoJLJUHiASDkxikExyXgK8ALWI/s1600/lg_GrindontheGreenway.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 120px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469686378456775394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtDbflMii8cGMTVNJpc_gYXbx79DtE5v5mKM4NZ7oy0MNfPF7e9Ux3EMw8f2Kc2V-1rVrjg0Tg7BOGGXE1ZxsOa1jxZqY08r0awzaQf_h6YicH1Ph0umoJLJUHiASDkxikExyXgK8ALWI/s200/lg_GrindontheGreenway.jpg" /></a><br /><div>My fingers are still sore from the stress of the root barrage endured this Saturday...The <a href="http://www.charlottemtnbike.com/GrindontheGreenway/grindonthegreenway.htm">6 Hour Grind on the Greenway</a> was definitely a shocker to my system as I had let my training routine go south a bit. It all started when I realized the Pisgah Stage race just isn't as realistic a goal as I want to believe I can achieve based more on personal situation than actual time and effort, so I went back to focusing on getting more done around the new house, finalized the handling of the old house, which recently sold(yay!), as well as assistant coaching my daughter's soccer team with emphasis on core strength training. I also have been working on some software updates for my company to handle the latest ridiculous specification changes and security mandates Microsoft made when introducing Vista/Windows7. Thus, it's just not that I don't wanna ride my bike...I just can't get on the saddle enough to enjoy myself...ok, enough whining, on with the ride report...<br /><br />It started with my good friend and upcoming ultra endurance racer, Mark Sackett, putting the bug in my head about the Grind on the Greenway happening in about a week...I knew it was coming up, but wasn't sure if I could manage it into the weekend soccer schedule. Oddly, the weekend's games had been moved to Sunday, which left Saturday open and clear for some possible racing action...All that was left was my decision to go for it. I had not turned a pedal in about a solid week. My bike lay covered in mud and scum from the last 4 hour training session at Marrington, and I had not even picked out the winning gear combination. At this point, I still sat on the fence about wanting to do this race as I did not feel like driving all that way as well. The other issue was the SingleSpeed category: it was full of rippers. I definitely felt I had no contention against the heavy hitters currently dominating the SingleSpeed category since there is not an age grouping in this class, so I entered Solo Men 30-39 just to bench test myself. All that was left to decide was the drive up to Ft. Mill. Fortunately, endurance & XC mountain biking is experiencing a steady wave of interest from some strong riders here in the lowcountry and another good friend of mine, Matt McMaster, offered to give me a ride up to the race! So off I went with the <a href="http://www.charlestonbicyclecompany.com/">Charleston Bicycle Company</a> race team members Jana Glover, Lise Morrison, Matt McMaster in Jana's super luxurious personal shuttle van. It was a great ride up to the race with good conversation and anxious energy from everyone. It was their first time riding in an endurance race and they were also not familiar with the lap format of 6/12/24 hour races yet, but they were ready for anything and looking in great shape, unlike myself...<br />Parking, unloading and gear setup occurred in record time and everyone was fluttering about trying to get everything handled the best that they could. The spot we picked for our tent was in a strange corner which was all that was left on our end of the pit station, but it did not make for a totally difficult situation, just tricky. The race started in a mass start scenario to try and spread us out and I found myself closer to the upper pack than I had anticipated. I tried to feed back, but others staggered as well, so I fell into line and started spinning. My gear combination of 32x20 was a bit too spinny for this area and wished I had 2 less teeth to get some more momentum speed for the hill climbs, but that was what I had setup and thats that. The singletrack started fast and furious as I was in a much faster pack than previous races. It was a shock to the system, but I hung in there and rode consistent and strong throughout most of that first lap. I got bucked midway through my first lap and flipped straight over my handlebars, landing twisted like a crab staring at my bike with no injury other than a bit of shock and time lost. I quickly re-straightened my handlebars and took off again trying to get my speed up. With the wind knocked out of my sails, it took a bit more effort to get my pace back and I soon found myself feeling a bit rough around the edges after only one lap. The second lap was much like the first, only this time I felt the true intensity of the exposed roots lurking around every corner as well as the sloshy muck sections where new roots were showing up. The Greenway course is fun, technical, and fast twisty in some parts, but there are some nasty roots dropped in too frequently to gather full speed and carry it forward. The climbs were short and punchy with no major effort required, just determination. 3rd lap was a bit slower as I was feeling the pinch of the heat now bearing down on all of us. I started passing more riders lagging on this lap. Then, the dreaded lap 4 was started and I was feeling weak from the start. As I pitted before lap#4, I came upon Matt, who was taking a break under the tent. As I went to refuel, my legs started to cramp up. I could not figure out why except for possibly not eating enough? I followed Matt out on lap#4 and was steady on his wheel for about 2-3 miles before I decided to stop and relieve my bladder deep in the woods. All of a sudden, my legs went into hyper cramping mode and I started feeling faint and weak. I took a break at the top of every miniscule hill climb and tried to coast through every downhill I could. This was a major showstopper as I was midway through lap#4 and realized that this would stop short my 6 lap goal... I saw lots of familiar riders start passing me by and dreaded the fact that my body was not functioning right at all! At one point as I sat there debating the very issue with myself of whether I was staring at dandilions or daisies, Mark Sackett pulls up and looks me in the eye and asks me if I am ok...I slowly come out of my fog and respond with yes, I have everything I need, I just don't know what it is. Mark gave me a puzzled look as I urge him to move on and not give up his position in the race to help my lame self out. Lise comes by shortly afterwards and also checks up on me and I tell her all is well, move along...I finally make it back to the pits after the dreaded lap#4 and have a long think and decide I will rest for a while before going out on lap#5. Lise is sitting in the corner debating the sanity of this event and I let her know that this is what it all comes down to, physical as well as mental perseverance...She offers up a large camelbak filled with gatorade that she could not drink since she is thinking of quitting at this point. I actually take her up on the offer as gatorade sounded tasty right then and there. I guzzle down the entire contents of the camelbak, pop a few Advil, mount my bike and start back out on Lap#5 before I talked myself out of going back out for another. Surprised by my immediate decision, Lise also jumps back on her bike and decides to punch out one more lap...She takes off much faster than I because of my spinny gearing, but I quickly catch back up to her on the climbs. She still looked like she was tired and overall done with this course, so I pass her by and continue on my way, looking to try and possibly catch up with Matt. Before I realize what is happening, I discover my legs are back to carrying me up the climbs. I start turning the pedals at a smoother pace and start passing people again. It dawns on me that the earlier heatwave we endured might have left me more dehydrated than I thought. The massive gatorade refill from earlier left me totally refreshed and zooming through the trail once again. I clean every obstacle with little or no stumbling and find myself completing lap#5 at EXACTLY 4:30pm. This meant I made the cutoff time to go out for yet another lap! I would be able to meet me goal if I could get myself through this last lap! As I pedaled through the pits, I make a last minute decision to not stop since I still had one more water bottle to carry me through the remaining 9 miles. As I pass my pit zone, I see Matt sitting back looking refreshed and strong. This meant he would be out chasing me very soon. I put the hammer down and decide to use that anticipation as fuel for the tank. I pick up the pace and continually visualize Matt chasing me down on the last lap. It works well and Lap#6 passes by in a blur. Lots of cramped souls were on this lap. Pain everywhere. I return to the pits to find Matt still sitting there, Jana sleeping in the grass and Lise in the corner wondering what madness made me go out on a 6th lap...I just told them I had the chance to go out on another lap and I did, regardless of how I felt. It was a great personal accomplishment, a weak showing for the day, and a massive shock to my physical state. All in all, a good day. I made some new friends, hung out with some old friends, watched some slower friends kick my butt and watched faster ones kick my butt once again...I also witnessed some newer friends enter into the endurance racing world, hopefully to be seen again at future events.<br />The ride home was just as fun as the ride there...except with lots more to talk about and experiences to share, such as the misadventures of Jana, who tried to squeeze in some run training with her cycling during the race...Matt is getting stronger with every race and definitely a future hopeful...Lise surprised us all with her second place win and strong showing in her first ever endurance mtb race! Mark Sackett is getting amazingly strong and his determination is paying off-next stop Burn24 for him. Mike Pierce surprised me with a really strong showing as well! Like I said, it was a good day...<br /><br />Cheers!<br /><br />12th place, 6 laps;Solo Men 30-39 on a singlespeed no less!<br />Garmin connect lap data: <a href="http://connect.garmin.com/activity/32835406">http://connect.garmin.com/activity/32835406</a></div>LowCountry Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02991691824007552264noreply@blogger.com0