Shammy Time

Dry Humping

2011-09-12T14:50:00.006-06:00

Have you ever finished a ride that was so good that you almost felt like you needed to go see your ecclesiastical authority afterwards to clear things up? Because nothing should feel that good without being a little sinful? No? Well maybe you've been doing too many road rides when you should have been on your mountain bike.

In case you've never had that "dirty" feeling after a mountain bike ride, just think of it being a little bit like the title of today's post. It's a grey area.

Anyway, today's route was the Dry Canyon Loop with an out an back on Great Western (aka, upper Fransisco) to the overlook on the south side of Little Baldy. Or "Dry Hump", if you will. With a side of Heavy Petting. Throw in the fact that we smoked the pipe, and I think I may need to call my bishop.

Does this mean I'm back? Let me know if anyone is still out there. Chirp, chirp...

Just a little further?

2010-12-13T15:09:00.006-07:00

Dan Z and I must have asked ourselves this questions about 15 times during our lunch ride today. "No way will this next section be rideable", we'd tell ourselves. But we decided to keep going till it wasn't fun to ride anymore. Turns out we never reached that point until we finished the entire Dry Canyon loop. With the exception of a few patches of snow, the entire loop is in good condition. The pipe got smoked a few more times today. No way should I be having that much fun on a mountain bike on Dec 13th. I feel like we got away with stealing something.

So how muddy was it out there?... you must be asking. About that muddy:

i.e., not very (muddy).

You have one more , maybe two that you can pull this off. So hurry up.

Goblin Valley and Capitol Reef

2010-10-20T22:36:00.005-06:00

Before I start in with this post, I feel I'd be remiss if I didn't at least mention the fact that I raced on a 4-man 24 Hours of Moab team a couple weekends ago. Rather than go into a whole lot of detail, I'll sum it up by saying it was a whole lot like last year (kick-A team, kick-A time, etc.), with the exception of a couple things: 1) overall, we were 1 lap faster than last year; and 2) we didn't win like we did last year... in fact we just missed the podium, despite our best efforts with regards to item 1. The competition was deep this year.

After abandoning my wife and kids over Moab weekend, I decided it was my turn to take a pull (a rarity for me, as those who have ridden with me know). I loaded up the kids and headed south for a camping trip (and let me just say that my 15-year-ago-self would be extremely disappointed by the amount of crap I now load up for a simple camping trip).

First stop was Goblin Valley. The last time I went to goblin valley was about 18 years ago. When I last went, there was no paved road, no pavilion, and especially no people. Back then, we road our mountain bikes down into the valley and did wall hits on the "goblins." I'm not sure if riding in the valley was against the "rules" at that time, but there certainly wasn't anyone around to bother us about it.

A lot has changed since then, likely because of those idiots who post about their Goblin Valley trips on their Webernet blogs. Oh wait... Um, anyway, during this weekend's visit, instead of a deserted valley, there was a group of BYU students playing a game of ultimate Frisbee in one of the clearings (not clear enough though, as evidenced by the twisted ankle suffered by one of the participants):

There were also sun bathers (I guess the crutches kept her out of the ultimate Frisbee game, so she had to find something else to do, since the landscape is so mundane/non-scenic):

Regardless of the number of people, Goblin Valley remains one of the coolest places on earth. Especially for kids. The perfect spot for a game of hide-and-seek... well, it's perfect until your 3-year old finds a hiding spot that's so good that you start considering enlisting the help of others or calling search and rescue to help find him.

Goblin Valley is a freaky place:

On the recommendations of Jeff and Jason, we hit Little Wild Horse Canyon on day two. Between Goblin Valley and Little Wild Horse, the area can best be described as nature's playground for kids.

Little surfer dude riding the stone waves:

After I carried my daughter across the water, I turned around to grab my boy and, well... so much for having dry shoes for the rest of the trip:

And then onto Capitol Reef National Park. Somehow, in all of my trips down south, I had never visited Capitol Reef, other than a quick drive through the Southern section during a trip across the Burr Trail 15 years ago. Unfortunately rain was threatening the entire day, so we had to avoid some of the more remote slot canyons, but we did see some decent scenery:

... and hiked out to a deserted arch/bridge (what's the difference anyway?)

Capitol Reef offers some big views:

Capitol Reef seems like it has a bunch of ignored bits of goodness. A lot of trails and canyons that are off the beaten path. I've been dabbling in running this past month, and seeing all of these unknown (and unrideable) trails on a map motivates me to get to the point where I can head down and bust out a 10-15 mile trail run to see some places that I've never been before, without requiring a pack and sleeping bag to pull it off. The main thing holding me back from getting to that point in my running is that I'm having a tough time kicking this biking habit. Speaking of which, I'll see you at Fall Moab this weekend:

Night Crash

2010-09-24T08:18:00.004-06:00

*This isn't me in this photo. You'd think that after all of the crashing I've done, at least one of them would have been caught on camera, but I don't think I have a single picture of me crashing.

The night ride was (almost) perfect last night. Perfect temperatures. Perfect trail conditions. Full Moon. Great group. Great trails. Etc. It was perfect right up until I went down. I went down pretty hard, but somehow managed to escape without any serious injuries (at least I hope to have escaped - my knee has a pretty good bump on it, but I'm pretty sure it's just a bruise and nothing structural. Can't put much weight on it yet).

Anyway, I've gone down hard twice this year that I can remember. First there was the RAWROD TT crash, and now last night's crash. I could be subconsciously blocking a few other hard crashes from my memory in an effort to convince myself to keep mountain biking.

In both of this year's crashes, I crashed in places where I'm not sure exactly how or why I crashed. And I happened to be following Rick both times. I'm pretty sure he's been dropping banana peels when I follow him. Or maybe little land mines. I'd welcome any other theories you have, as long as they do not relate to my ability (or lack thereof) to ride a bike.

PCP2P 2010

2010-09-08T10:10:00.001-06:00

Holy crap that was hard! I remember it being hard last year, but was it that hard? Whether it was the heat, the extra few miles, or the brutal new section on mid-mountain (more on that later), it seemed like this year, the Park City Point 2 Point race sucked a little more life from me than last year.

I sat down to write my Park City Point 2 Point race report about 6 times last over the weekend, but couldn't get myself to write anything down. I guess it's because I've been in conflict about the race ever since it ended, and I'm still having trouble figuring it all out. The race was awesome, but when it comes to racing, I can get a bit greedy. Or delusional is probably a better word. I had a good time. I had a good finish. Overall, I thought I actually felt better this year than last. But I had a goal finish time in mind (8:30, in case you were wondering), and I didn't make it, so I've been trying to justify why that is. Certainly it can't possibly be due to the fact that I'm just not fast enough, right?

I lined up with the 8-9 hour racers after briefly contemplating lining up at the back of the sub 8's. I'm not sure why I entertained the idea of a racing with those guys, since one of my main focuses was to start out slower this year in hopes of having something left at the end. We started around Round Valley, which is filled with fun, flowy, fast trails. I tried slowing down, but the pressure of staying with the group was strong. I'd let the group gap me on the climbs (and let everyone behind me know that they were free to pass me whenever) and catch them on the descents, so I figure I saved a bit of energy there.

Skid row and Lost Prospector were awesome. If only the entire course could have been on Round Valley, Skid Row, and Lost Prospector. It reminded me of a casual lunch ride. Adam, Keith, Jesse, and I rode it in a paceline. I even got to see Bagley dusting himself off after a crash, just like during lunch rides (sorry Bags, I couldn't help myself). All we needed is Sunderlage pushing the pace at the front.

We made it to Deer Crest and Adam formed a gap. I considered going with him, but thought better of it. Jesse and I rode the little micro-loop before Silver Lake 1 aid station, and he says to me "hey Aaron, does this look familiar?" Hahahaha... that one will never get old (turns out I skipped it last year).

I felt pretty good going up the steep climb out of Silver Lake 1 with Lynda...

... good all the way up till I heard the dreaded hissssss of a flat tire. Somehow, while traveling at a max speed of 3 mph up that climb, I slashed my tread. Fortunately, a few days beforehand Keith had added about a half-gallon of Stans to my tire. The weight weenie in me thought "dang, that's going to add 1.56 seconds to my climb out of Silver Lake." Turns out it saved me more like 10 minutes, because I was able to get the tire to seal after a minute or so. As I did so, I dreaded watching my energy go to waste as people I recently passed rode by me. As if it really matters in an 80 mile race.

I caught up to the group on the Flagstaff Loop and made a quick sprint to make sure I was leading the DH. Over the past 2 years, I've ridden it 17 times (mostly during the Perfect 10 race a couple years back), so I was confident I could rip it. And not to toot my own horn, but I did (rip it). Toot toot.

I flew through Silver Lake 2 aid station, thanks to the Mad Doggers being there to help me out (they didn't shun me for wearing a Racer's jersey) and soon found myself completely alone. The nice part about being alone was that I was able to ride T&G and John's completely at my own pace. Oh, the other good part is that nobody heard me cussing about how bad I hate John's trail, and that nobody saw me while I stood on the side of the trail for a pee break.

Speaking of John's trail, I don't think I've ever been on a descent that I wanted to end more badly than John's. And calling John's a "descent" might be a stretch, since I'm still not convinced it actually loses any elevation.

Anyway, I actually felt pretty good all the way up Steps. Good enough that I thought I had a chance to get back on track to come close to an 8:30 finish. And then, just as I started on the Shadow Lake Loop, the cramps came on. I popped a few Endurolytes and drank the rest of my water bottles (queue ominous music now) and resorted to soft pedalling the loop, which I'm pretty sure gets 1/4 mile longer every time I ride it.

The descent was fast, fun and thirsty. Or maybe it was me that was thirsty. Either way, by the time I rode into the PCMR aid station, I was parched, and looked as if I was about to fall off of my bike:

I was so dehydrated, in fact, that I wasn't even able to fight off getting dry-humped by the gilly.

If you can get past the dry-humping, you'll also notice in the previous picture that I'm wearing a pretty warm base layer. I'm wearing this despite the fact that it was hot has hades out there. So why didn't I take it off? (I'm sure you're dying to know). Because it goes against my endurance racing mantra, which is "keep pedaling, dammit!" I may not do a lot of things well on a bike. I don't have bursts of speed up steep hills. I can't do wheelies or do cool tricks. All I got is the ability to continue pedaling when all logic and reason tells me to stop. This can be a good and a bad thing.

There must have been a 20 times on Saturday when I thought to myself: just stop. Just long enough to take off this blasted base layer. Just long enough to take another pee break. Just long enough to sit down for a bit. Just long enough to oil my squeaky chain. But I didn't stop. Because it goes against my mantra. Even if I'd be better off over the long haul stopping for a minute, I continue to pedal. And despite the downsides of pedalling when I'd often be better off stopping, my mantra did get me out of that PCMR aid station. I wanted to stop so bad, but I knew if I did, I might not ever start again. So I hopped on and kept going, albeit slow as snot.

I battled cramps and stomach issues on the Spiro climb. I'm not sure if my stomach issues were due to the water I drank at PCMR, the Electrolytes, or the unsatisfactory consistency of my poop that I reported on last week, but my stomach got bad. And then, my mantra kept me riding on a nearly flat tire for a while, because the slit it my rear tire started leaking again. Once I was riding on my rim, I finally got off and shot it with some air. Joel Z and I rode together for a while, and if a course is tough enough to bring a guy like Joel to his knees, well, you know it's pretty brutal.

I was struggling, but I knew that the mid-mountain trail was fortunately just around the bend, and last year, the mid-mountain trail gave me wings and I hoped for the same this year. But alas, the mid mountain trail isn't what it used to be, and the new rerouted section sucked every last bit of life out of me. The funny thing (or maybe not so funny thing) is that when I pre-rode this section last week, I thought to myself "what is everyone complaining about? This new section is fun!" Turns out, pre-riding != racing (some geeky computer programing notation for you). By the time I started climbing out of mid-mountain, I was toast. But I wasn't the only one. I saw a long line of nearly-dead, hollow riders from mid-mountain to the Canyons.

You probably know the rest. Awesome DH into the Canyons, one last annoying climb, and then I was done. Finally. It was cool to hear the cheers of the crowd as I rode through the finish line. Felt like a big shot for about 10 seconds. And then I came super close to passing out at the finish line at around 8:50. 43rd overall, 7th in category.

In addition to being an awesome course, the P2P is full of treachery, deceit and guile (which are all just synonyms for each other, but worth repeating 3 times). The first 20-25 miles are so relatively easy, and you feel so good that you think you can hammer, so most people do. But what you forget is that the race doesn't even start (for all practical purposes) until after you pass Silver Lake the 2nd time. Looking at the split times is interesting to me - the finishing times are much more closely correlated to the second split than the first.

I find the comparisons from this year to last year both fascinating and frustrating, so I'll bore you with some facts. I rolled into the PCMR aid station at almost the exact same time (6:11) both years. So I figure that I was riding a bit faster this year considering that a) I didn't skip a 3-4 minute section of the course like last year; and b) the climb up Big Bear takes 3-4 minutes longer than last year's route (up Tour de Suds). This year, I climbed Spiro 2 minutes faster than last year, even with the cramping, stomach issues and flat tire (yeah, I bonked hard on Spiro last year). But last year, I covered mid-mountain to the finish more than 10 minutes faster than this year. I figure I lost a couple minutes due to stopping at the aid station for water (which I skipped last year), but the rest came from the new reroute and simply from going slower.

I look at the times of the fastest finishers and am amazed at their ability to maintain speed for such long periods of time. I did all I could to keep something in the tank for the finishing stretch, but came up a bit empty. But still, I'm happy I raced, happy with my finish, and happy to mix it up with so many rad dudes. Yeah that's right, you're totally rad.

Alright, now that I've bored you with the details, a quick thanks again to Dave Dean, Kendra, and Mad Dog crew for taking their entire Saturday to help out at the aid stations, even if us racers are often too self absorbed and delirious to express gratitude during the actual race. Also thanks to the PCPP organizers for putting on a top notch race that other races should aspire to, and for comp'ing my entry fee by giving me a pair of Smith Sunglasses in the raffle.

Till next year? We'll see...

How I'm Preparing for PCP2P

2010-09-02T12:13:00.003-06:00

In case you haven't heard from the 30 other blog posts and 15,000 tweets on the topic, the Park City Point 2 Point race is happening this Saturday. 80 miles with 14,000 feet of climbing, 95% of of which is on singletrack, and a lot of that singletrack is of the somewhat technical variety. Like most people, the week before a big race is a bit strange for me. I'm used to spending my free time riding my bike in preparation for the big race, but with the race right around the corner, riding my bike can do much more damage than good.

With the race so close, I feel like I should be busy preparing for it, and the lack of bike riding leaves somewhat of a void. And where there is a void, I will find a way to fill it. Even the things I fill it with are completely meaningless. Here is a list of the N-number of things I have done to fill this void, one or more of which I am convinced will shave significant amounts off of my finishing time for the 2010 PCP2P:

1) The other day, I spent 40 minutes rubbing a thin layer of dried Stans off of the inside of my CrossMark tire. Because the extra 3.763 grams I shaved will make a huge difference in my climbing speed.

2) Resisting the urge to pee. Because by stretching my bladder an extra 2 millimeters over the next 2 days, I'll be able to ride 5 extra minutes on Saturday before stopping for that pee break.

3) Avoiding stairs like the plague. Because if I take one more trip up those stairs than is absolutely necessary, I will have no energy left at all on Saturday. Tonight, I think I may sleep on the couch in order to avoid that one extra trip upstairs.

4) Examining the consistency of my poop. I'm still suffering slightly from a bug I picked up from my daughter, which has caused me to lose 4-5 pounds in the past few days. Right now, I don't like the consistency of my poop one bit.

5) Holding back on the Ambien. Last year, I slept about 3 hours the night before the P2P race. This year I have Ambien as my secret weapon (well, at least it was a secret until I just told everyone about it). I've used it enough to know that it works like a charm. I also know that it worked best the very first time I ever used it. So recently, I've avoided using it at all in hopes that when I pop one on Friday night, my body will be shocked into the deepest slumber of my life, despite the fact that I'll likely be a nervous wreck.

6) Cleaning parts of my bike that don't matter. My cassette was pretty clean already when I started cleaning my bike the other day. But I noticed a bunch of gunk on the inside of my cassette that could only be cleaned by removing my cassette. So I did, and I soaked it in degreaser, and now it's sparkly clean. I'm still not sure why I decided to do this one.

7) Cleaning clothes that I hardly ever clean. I even cleaned my nasty gloves and crusty helmet. Not that they were really even bothering me before, but I'm sure I'll be way faster now that they are clean.

8) Thinking about meaningless weight savings. For example, I will need 2 large waterbottles from PCMR to the finish in the Canyons. There is a support station half-way between PCMR and the Canyons. Stopping to fill a bottle at said support station will take approximately 31.6 seconds. Is this more or less time than will be lost by carrying an extra large water bottle (which weighs approximately 720 grams) up the 1500 ft Spiro climb? Please discuss.

9) Shaving my legs. Kidding, of course. I haven't gone that far off the deep end.

At last year's 2009 P2P race, it seems like I went into it with a lot less anticipation than this year. Last year, I had no idea what to expect. The course was only posted a few weeks prior to the race, and I hadn't pre-ridden any of it so I had no idea what to expect in terms of trail conditions or finishin time. This year, I've pre-ridden the entire course and have a very good idea of my target time. Honestly, I don't know if this will help or not. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.
Last year, Adam and Jesse may have been the only people I knew beforehand that were doing the race (once I showed up, I realized a few others I knew were doing the race as well). So we'd psych each other out a little bit, but nothing quite like this year. Nowadays there are more than double the participants, each of whom insist on tweeting non-stop about how nervous they are about the race. A heart-felt thanks to all of you for turning me into a big bundle of nerves as well.
So I have 1.5 more days to find meaningless ways to prepare for the P2P race. If you have not already done the N-number of things I listed above, well you'd better get on it, because you're not even close to being ready.

Tour of Utah, the Nebo Stage

2010-08-20T14:48:00.004-06:00

After climbing Payson Canyon (the cycling version of "The Never Ending Story"), Adam and I met up with Mark near the top of the Nebo Loop to watch the Tour of Utah riders finish Stage 2. Adam decided that the riders needed a little extra motivation to ride fast. You can't tell me that seeing something like what I'm about to show you below wouldn't motivate you to ride away as fast as possible.

***Viewer Discretion is Advised***

Things started out innocently enough (what, this doesn't seem innocent to you? Well keep reading then...):

First there was the barking:

And then the bearded lady started hitting on the support vehicles:

Finally, local mountain biker Mitch Peterson finds out how it feels to get swatted by a tranny:

Levi went on to thank the Bearded Lady for providing the necessary motivation to win the stage:

Once her (his?) work was done, he/she road off into the mist:

Adam may not be making his wife a proud woman, but he made for an entertaining stage at the Tour of Utah, and that's what really matters.

Lunch Rides Cometh

2010-08-16T14:45:00.000-06:00

A few months ago after one of the spring lunch rides, I was talking with a co-worker in the company locker room. I didn't know him very well, but he likes riding his mountain bike and he apparently tagged along on one of the lunch rides with the "lunch crew" last year sometime (I wasn't in attendance). He lamented that he was promptly dropped by the group before he even reached the trailhead. He told me that his goal for this year was to lose some weight and get fast enough to be able to keep up with the lunch crew this year. All I could do is sort'a nod and offer some words of encouragement... because I didn't have the heart to tell him that he needed to set more realistic goals.

I know that some of you think I'm a cocky jerk for implying that an average Joe can't keep up with our lunch rides, and perhaps for good reason. But I don't have any delusions about being particularly fast, and nobody from the lunch crew will be quiting their day jobs anytime soon to go ride bikes full-time. However, I think that most of the lunch crew would agree that the pace of the lunch rides has frankly gotten a little ridiculous over the past year. The days of having a casual lunch ride are over. Back in the good ole days, you could usually anticipate that there would be at least one guy show up that would help keep the pace at a reasonable level. That luxury doesn't seem to exist anymore. Nowadays, it seems like everyone in the lunch crew has gotten fast and can put the hurt on you.

These past few mornings, a chill has been in the air, and Fall weather means that lunch rides are about to start up again. Race season is almost over so uptight people (like me) won't be worried about ruining training schedules by throttling themselves everyday at lunch. Mornings and evenings will soon be cold and dark, leaving lunch as the best time of the day to ride.

During the lunch ride "off-season", I've been keeping an eye on the race results of the lunch crew. Gotta keep tabs on the competition, you know. A frequent visitor to the lunch rides just missed breaking 8 hours at Leadville by 5 minutes. Another broke 8.5 hrs on a singlespeed. Yet another took 2nd in his class at Tour DAY Park City. There's also a long list of good results in the Sport, Expert and singlespeed I-Cup races. Although these results are impressive, when taken alone they don't mean a whole lot. Because if you're being honest, the results that really matter are those where your name appears above your buddies' names on the results sheet.

Which is precisely why lunch rides have gotten out of control - it's a daily chance to put the smackdown on all of your closest pals. Each day includes 2-3 mini races, each with an unofficial start and finish line. The guy waiting at the top doesn't gloat... because it's not a "real" race. Instead, he dismisses the accomplishment, turning the focus on how the other guys will smoke him on the downhill. But everyone knows who the unspoken king of the day is.

So if you thought I've been training this summer with hopes of doing well at races like P2P, you thought wrong. No, I'm doing races like P2P and Butte as a lead-up for Fall Lunch Rides. I have a feeling that Sunderlage will be riding angry once he's out of his wheelchair and back on his bike. He'll be looking to make up for lost time by putting the hurt on the rest of the lunch crew. If your season doesn't revolve around peaking for Fall Lunch Rides, you'd better reevaluate your priorities pretty quick, because lunch rides cometh.

Oh, and if someone starts a lunch ride by saying "I'm going to need to take it easy today", you'd better be afraid. Very afraid.

Lunch ride 4-16-10 from atomicmiles on Vimeo.

The Canyons I-Cup Race, 2010

2010-08-12T08:35:00.000-06:00

The one thing that I've learned about mountain bike racing during the past 4 years of doing it is this: I don't know anything about racing. Seriously, some days I think my preparation is perfect and I end up feeling like crap, and other days I think my preparation is lousy and I'll end up feeling great. Luckily, the Canyons race was more like the latter.

I spent the week prior to the race in Cali for work, and hadn't touched a bike at all. Well, unless you count the 5 minutes I spent on the hotel's recumbant exercise bike. After 5 minutes I decided I could either get off the bike or start repetitively slamming my head in the door. I think I made a good choice to stop riding.

I flew home on Friday afternoon, and then headed to 7-peaks water park with the family, which consisted of lugging a tube to the the top of the slide about 20 times with the youngins. I won't lie. Half of the reason I agreed to go to 7-peaks was to earn points with the misses so she'd let me race the next day. Hey, at least the other half was so that I could spend some time with the family. Because I'm noble like that.

I lined up in the back of the field with somewhat low expectations. I went out pretty slow on the first lap and was literally in last place for a good part of the first climb. I mainly focused on trying to ride efficiently in hopes that I'd pass a couple people on the last two laps.

I was digging the climb - nothing too crazy steep - and I really fell in love with the course as soon as I hit the downhill. Fast and flowy (especially up top), which is my kind of DH. Oh and that reminds me - one of the best things about racing in the Expert class (rather than Sport) is that pretty much everyone knows how to ride fast on the downhill. I mean, there are differences, but they are usually a matters of degrees rather than orders of magnitude. Which means that most downs are fast and fun, regardless of who you're following.

The second lap started and I experienced a rare occurance: I actually felt good. Better than the first lap, even. So I pushed and made some catches. Before too long, I saw my carrot just ahead - the only guy that really mattered to me in this race (but only because he's been putting the smackdown on me for... well pretty much this entire season).

I was able to get by one or two more guys and was hot on the heels of my carrot. Finally caught him on the DH and moved by him on the 3rd lap climb. I eventually caught Derek on the DH. I asked Derek if he'd let me pass or if he was going to make me earn it. He was suffering from an ill-timed blown headset, so he somewhat reluctantly told me that he'd let me take 3rd, which surprised me (not only that he was cool enough to let me go by, but also because I didn't expect to be moving into 3rd place).

Crossed the line, and a few hours later made my first ever visit to the Expert podium (not counting a handful of visits to the poor-man's podium (4th-6th)). I think it was Chad who once said that just about anyone could land themselves on the pro ICup podium if they showed up to enough races. Well, I don't know if that's true for the Pro category, but I've officially proven that it's true for the Expert:

The Butte 100 (Butte 50), 2010

2010-08-08T13:55:00.004-06:00

Last weekend, the misses and I headed up to Butte so I could participate in some
self flagellation on my bike. Soon after I committed to doing this race, a few things got scheduled at work that meant that the race would be sandwiched between the two busiest weeks of the year for me. The silver lining is that I'd have no choice but to taper before the race (although I think a taper is supposed to be more like a gradual slope rather than falling off a cliff) and recover afterward.

I was going back and forth between doing the 50 and the 100 mile version of Butte... until I took a look at the stats of the 100. 100+ miles with 16k or so climbing. Call me crazy, but when I race my bike, I like to try and go fast and have fun. I had a feeling that the 100 mile version would be neither fast nor fun. So I figured I'd use the 50 as a nice race-pace training ride for Park City Point 2 Point (P2P), and hopefully ride some awesome singletrack in the process.

Since the race happened a week ago, you may have heard some mixed reviews about it. Although you won't hear any complaints from me, some of the complaints may have some merit to them. This was the 4th year of the race, and they keep having the same problems year after year (poor course markings, inadequate aid stations and course information, etc.), so you'd think the organizers would have some of these recurring problems fixed. Shoot, if an official gps track would have been published prior to the race, it would have solved so many problems for so many people. For whatever reason, a gps track was never provided, and instead the racers were assured that the course markings would be so obvious that no gps track would be necessary. Ha.

Anyway, don't interpret the previous paragraph as me complaining. I loved the race. Seriously, every last mile, including the 5 miles I spent off course. All I'm saying is that I can understand some of the gripes. I imagine if I had come into the 50 dead set on winning, or if I had ridden the 100 and got lost 80 miles into it, I'd be pretty ticked too.

The 50 mile version began at 9am, three hours after the 100 mile version started (yet another reason to do the 50). We bombed down the first descent with only minimal carnage (only one crash that I saw) and within 2-3 miles we hit an intersection with a paved road that didn't include any markings. The lead group lollygagged for a while until one of the racers reassured us that we were still heading in the right direction. We surmised that the rumors of locals pulling flags were true and we forged ahead.

The first climb was on some great singletrack and the pace was already high. I pinned it trying to stay with the leaders, and I think I was close to the top 10, with the top 4-5 getting a bit of a gap on the rest of us. Eventually, we reached a T in the trail, and there were no markings anywhere. About 4 of us discussed which way we should go, and one guy said we needed to be heading right to get to the archery range. We started heading down for about 1/4 mile until I thought better of it after the trail conditions started deteriorating and turned around. On my way back up, I ran into about 5 more who had made the same decision. We had a little pow-wow and determined that nobody knew for sure which way we should go.

We headed back up to the intersection, and by then about 15-20 riders had gathered. All had relied on the course markings, and nobody knew which way to go. After much discussion and laughing about being completely lost 7 miles into a 50 mile race, about 1/3 decided to go right, about 1/3 decided to turn around and go back, and about 1/3 decided to follow the main trail which headed left. I chose left. I figured that we'd already past one intersection that didn't have any markings (the paved road above), so we were likely at another, and someone had pulled some flags. I'd follow the main trail to the left since it looked like it had a couple tire tracks on it.

6-7 of us headed down the left fork, which was more amazing 1-track. Unfortunately, we didn't find any flags marking the course. After about 2 miles, we intersected another trail that did have flags... and soon determined that we had circled back on the trail we had just climbed. Good that we had found the trail. Bad that we had lost time.

We started back up the climb, and figured we take a right at the intersection at the top this time. Just before we reached the intersection, I caught a glimpse of some flags out of the corner of my eye. I hit the breaks, turned around and noticed a couple flags half buried in the grass. Next to the flags was some matted down grass, that was apparently a trail. Well that answered why there were no markings at the intersection... because we were off course already. I'm still pissed that I missed the turn the first time, but since 20 or more of us missed it (and I heard that Tinker missed it when he arrived), I guess I can't be too hard on myself.

It felt like I had lost 45 minutes or more on my little detour, but my gps track shows more like 35 minutes. If you've ever been stopped during a race, you know what's going through your head the entire time. Tick tock tick tock. Feels like time is on fast-forward. I knew my chances of a really high placing were shot, but I figured I could still have a fun race and push hard, so that's what I tried to do. It took me a bit before I started catching people who stayed on course, but once I caught back on, it was non-stop passing for a few hours - especially on the endless climb from stations 6 to 7.

About half way between 6 and 7, I had a mechanical that I thought was race-ending. I ran over a branch that got shoved in my derailleur. By the time I stopped, it was wedged between my chain, derailleur, and cogs. I removed it without causing any more damage, but my derailleur looked mangled and was tangled in my spokes. I wasn't sure what to do, but I started yanking on my derailleur and after a few good tugs, it miraculously was sitting in perfect position again. Didn't skip a shift for the rest of the race.

I re-passed the 10 people that passed me during the 5-10 minutes I was working on my bike and I was on my way. I made it to aid station 7 where Wesla was waiting for me. Wesla is the best, and has somehow put up with one more year of this whole racing thing. After station 7 was the inappropriately named "8 Miles of Hell." I may be crazy, but this section should be renamed the 8 Miles of kick-ass singletrack. The climbs were technical and steep, the descents were intense, and it was topped off with a few amazing miles of the Continental Divide trail.

My only complaint about the 8 Miles of Hell is the 5 miles without seeing a course marking (or another racer). I stopped at least 4-5 times with plans to turn around. Unmarked intersections came and went, and my internal voices were reminding me that the last time I didn't see any flags, I should have turned around. Pretty soon, I was doing some serious forensic work on the trail, trying to determine if I could find any tire tracks in front of me. But I forged ahead, mainly because I figured if I was off trail, there would be nothing I could do to salvage my race, so I may as well get a few extra miles in on some great trails. Alas, the 8th aid station finally arrived, much to my relief. Glad I didn't turn around.

The last 16 miles to the finish came and went in a flash. The trail to the finish was without a doubt one of the top 10 trails I've ridden anywhere. And I've only said that about 30-40 trails in my life, so you know I'm not exaggerating. It was a series of fast, flowy trails through thick pine forests, only interrupted by a couple solid climbs and incredible views. I had a second wind at that point and felt pretty good on the climbs, which was nice since I had some pretty bad cramping in both legs during the 8 Miles of Hell section.

I rolled across the line in 8th place overall. Honestly, I can't guess as to whether my result would have been better or worse had I not gotten lost, because so many people did get lost. A lot of people who have heard some of the complaints regarding the organization of the race ask if I'd do it again. Without a doubt I'd do it again. Probably the best trails I've done during a race, although both the American Mountain Classic and P2P probably come close. The thing that puts the trails of Butte above P2P is the fact that you really feel like you're in the middle of nowhere on the Butte trails, which I liked. In P2P, you could be eating a hamburger at a McDonald's in about 20 minutes from just about anywhere on that course. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Great race, great folks, great trails. Oh and super cheap when compared to other enduro events. Everything I love about mountain biking, rolled into one memorable day. When I come back... I'll probably be racing the 50. Because 50 miles in Butte is far enough.

Le Tour

2010-07-18T23:16:00.005-06:00

Alright, so here's my annual tour post containing a few random thoughts. While watching Lance get dropped yesterday morning at the bottom of the first significant climb, I got to thinking. Is Lance really that slow? I mean, can it be that the 7-time champ can't even keep up with the leaders, even before they've really start racing? Doubtful. My guess is that he's saving his legs for for a stage win. And why not? He deserves to go out in a blaze of glory, right?

Bull crap.

If he goes for a stage win, I'm pretty pissed if I'm Levi. How many times have Lance's teammates (including Levi) turned themselves inside out for, gotten water for, doped for (hopefully not Levi), etc. for Lance. Lance finally has the chance to return the favor and what does he do? Knowing that he stands no chance of a stage win on a mountain-top finish, he soft-pedals up Port de Pailheres so he can save himself for his 26th career stage win. At least that's what it looked like to me.

Lance has obviously been taking some heat lately. Hating Lance is not even counter-culture anymore - it's mainstream. For me, there's one thing he can do at this point to salvage any shred of dignity he has left. I want to see him lead Levi over every climb. I want to see him get water for Levi. I want to see him give Levi his bike when Levi punctures (alright, so Levi probably couldn't reach the pedals, but you know what I mean). I want to hear Levi thank Lance for getting him on the podium (and considering that Levi can put 2-3 minutes on just about everyone above him in the GC during the TT, I don't see this as being a huge stretch... especially if he can get some help). What I'd really like is to see for Lance to "pull a Jens Voigt" and pedal so hard up the Tourmalet on stage 17 that he tastes blood, and when he finally has to pull off to let Levi go, it's all he can do to not just fall off his Trek, curl up in a ball and cry. I'd especially like to see that.

If he does that, I may actually look back on Lance with some respect.

But more likely, he'll burn all of his matches trying for that stage win and confirm himself as the world's biggest megalomaniac (as if anyone needed confirmation of that). In which case, I can see Levi finally snapping. Doing something crazy like filling some medical bags with dark red Kool-Aid, writing "Mellow Johnny" on them, snapping a few pictures, and sending the evidence to the feds. Like how Milton from Office Space burned down the building after he wasn't allowed to listen to his music at a reasonable level and had his stapler confiscated. Poor Levi. No respect. It would be tough to blame him for burning down the building.

Or who knows, maybe Lance really is that slow. I think we'll find out for sure either tomorrow or Tuesday. In the meantime, we may as well enjoy the best tour I've seen in a while. Can I get an Amen?

Two Days in Diamond Fork

2010-07-12T15:20:00.003-06:00

I thought our winter dawn patrols were early until I let Brandon set the start time on Saturday morning's ride. I think he has me sold on the early starts though - you can get a lot of riding in before lunch if you start riding by 5:30am.

Diamond Fork was the destination. Each time I head down there, I'm anxious to get back. Here is Brandon, flexing his triceps for the camera:

Miles has a nice little video here, where you can see the proper way to approach 5th water's "hike-a-bike" section.

I headed out for two 2nd Water to 5th Water laps - the first using the pavement, and the second using Strawberry Ridge to connect the two. If you haven't gone up to Strawberry ridge, I highly recommend it so that you can partake of the goodness offered by upper 5th Water (which you'll miss if you use Center trail to connect):

The downside to doing two laps in Diamond Fork on a Saturday morning is that by the time you pass the hot pots for the second time, it's busier than a skin track in Scottie's Bowl on a powder day.

The upside to doing two laps in Diamond Fork is that on your first lap, you can play a game where you predict which hikers you'll see swimming naked in the river during your second lap. On Saturday morning, I went 1 for 1. She was not the least bit concerned that a bunch of 10-13 year old boys were about to see their first real-live lady in her birthday suit. I guess she figures that if you're going to take your kids up to the hot pots, you know the risks. Or at least you should.

On that note, I took my kids up to the hot pots the following evening...

It's a great hike:

With a great destination.

Fortunately, no naked people on Sunday. Two consecutive days in Diamond Fork. Life is good.

A couple of good rides

2010-06-30T08:53:00.007-06:00

Whoa, I just realized that I almost forgot about my obligatory monthly post. I'd hate to disappoint my loyal readers (are the 2 of you still out there after all this time?) These past couple of weekends I hit some great trails. Two weekends ago, I was staying at Panguitch Lake with the family and was able to sneak away to ride Bunker Creek up toward the Sydney Peaks area. On the way up, there were quite a few nice, lonely roads that reminded me of stage 2 of the AMC a couple years ago:

I got to the singletrack and climbed up the right fork of Bunker Creek. The trail is amazing, with only one drawback: I may have been the first person to ride the trail since the snow melted. This left more downfall than I could count, and not the small kind that you can easily jump or ride over. This one required some serious bunny-hopping skills:

I headed up and eventually crossed Sydney Peak Road and started up the Sydney Peak Trail - the same brutal trail that I climbed twice on Stage 4 of the AMC (and once on stage 3). There were some nice views of Brian Head Peak above and the valley far far below:

I was hoping to reach the junction of the Dark Hollow and Lowder Ponds trails so that I I could complete a loop, but eventually got tired of hiking through and around snowbanks, that kept getting bigger as I climbed higher. At around 10,000 feet, I turned around.

The descent down the left fork of Bunker Creek would have been amazing if not for the downfall. These pics give you an idea of its potential:

This past weekend, I read about Brannen's Pole Line Pass loop and decide I needed to get me some of that. I started at the Tibble Fork parking lot and road up North Fork road. I took a right at Baker Fork and road up to Pole Line Pass. I then headed north for an out-and-back on the Ant Knolls trail. I suppose I could have climbed Dry Fork instead of Baker so I could do a loop rather than an out-and-back, but Ant Knolls is worth doing twice. Or four times.

Ant Knolls, I decided, is not only my favorite name for a trail, it's may favoite section of trail anywhere. I'm not sure if I can put a finger on exactly what it is that makes me love it so much. Probably a combination of its remoteness, its perfect mix of pine and aspens, its flow, and its amazing views. At one point along the route, the trail opens up to the west for an unparalleled view of the Wasatch Back. I can't ride by it without stopping. This time, I sat there for a nice long while taking it all in, not wanting to leave. Then I realized that there were other obligations to attend to, besides the view itself. Dinner, family, kids, oh yeah, and my youngest's birthday party. Better get moving, because if I'm late for that, I'm really screwed. But not before snapping 4-5 photos that Autostitch did a nice job of piecing together for me. This one may be worth clicking on for a better view:

Draper I-Cup, etc.

2010-05-31T21:44:00.003-06:00

Since the last time I did a race report, I raced the Sundance I-cup, two Wednesday night races, and now the Draper I-cup. The Sundance race can be summed up by the conversation I had with Ricky the following Monday:

Ricky (after looking at the results): What happened to you on Saturday?
Me: Nothing. That's what happened.

Yeah, so the race was kinda like that. I felt like I had a good lead-up to the race, I felt good during warmup, and I thought I had a good start up the pavement. A few people passed me during the race, but I thought we had a big group at the start line, and I figured that at least half of them were behind me. I was able to push pretty hard till lap 3, when I felt a few cramps coming on, which got bad on the last climb up the pavement, but didn't cost me any places. It wasn't until I eventually checked the results that I realized I finished much closer to the back of the pack than the front (of the finishers - I'm still convinced that we had quite a few DNF's, which don't show up on the results sheet). Frustrating because I felt like I raced about as well as I could, but still had a pretty mediocre finish. I had a mechanical with my MRP chain guide, which cost me about 3-4 minutes, but honestly didn't make much of a difference in the results.
*thanks, Karl

Then, I raced at Soldier Hollow and Sundance on Wednesday nights in the Expert B's. Does racing with the B's mean I'm sandbagging? Who knows. Who cares. Last year, I was forced into the Expert A's, and finished DFL a couple times. In my first B race at Soldier Hollow race this year, I finished 3rd behind Dan Z (who recently recorded a fast time on the Dry Loop Time Trial) and Rick. At Sundance the next Wednesday, I finished 2nd behind Dan (Rick didn't show, and World Champ Brandon mechanicalled (yes, that is a word) before he even started). I raced Sundance on my Single Speed, which was my first race ever on my SS. It was fun and painful, and took a bit longer to recover from. For those of you who ride every day on a SS, hats off to you. So anyway, comparing my finishing times to the Expert A class, I'd still be pretty darn close to DFL, so I'm stuck in limbo between the classes. For now, I'd rather battle for a finishing place that has some significance in the B's rather than race alone off the back in the A's.

Today, I raced in the Draper I-cup. If you check the results (Monday's version), you'll see that I had the race of my life - tied for first in Expert 30-39. I've never raced that fast. Seriously, NEVER. And maybe someday, I actually will (race that fast) - without the assistance of a clerical error.

To cut to the chase, I actually finished in 11th, out of 26 finishers (not 1st), with a time of 2:03:50. I felt pretty good today. Started out reasonably enough and slowly worked my way up for most of the day. I really like this race - especially the insane start that quickly funnels down into singletrack. Even with a huge lineup at the start, I felt like our entire group was flying up the singletrack, so I never really felt like I was being held up. Eventually got into a good battle with Chad A. (who lamented about having a bad day... and then outgunned me to the finish). I definitely will need to find the next gear to hang with the podium finishers, but I think I'm making some progress. I had a couple minor mishaps today: once when my rear tire washed out on the long left-hand switchback at the end of the new single-track descent, and another when I smacked my left hand into a tree (the same hand I jacked up in my Rawrod crash). None of them actually knocked me to the ground - just enough to stop me and make me restart.

I'm happy with the result today, but really, it just goes to show that you can't look at your result to meter your success, because your result often just depends on who shows up (more accurately, who happens to finish).

Perspective

2010-05-17T09:03:00.005-06:00

So I rolled into work last Wednesday, and my co-worker came into my office to complain about the weather. Something about another day of rain in May, as if this is the first time it has ever rained in Utah in May. I told him that bad weather is all a matter of perspective...

The crew hiking up Toledo Bowl, Wednesday, May 12th, before work:

Father Cottle and his progeny dropping into Holy Toledo, and looking quite good doing it:
Maybe if I had spent my time this Winter on my trainer rather than doing this, I wouldn't have gotten my teeth kicked in at Sundance on Saturday. Even if that's true (which I doubt), it's been totally worth it.

Dry Loop Time Trial

2010-05-14T16:11:00.007-06:00

The trails are clear, the Dry Loop TT is ready to get ripped, the pipe ready to get smoked.

Last year I wondered whether anyone would break the 40 minute barrier, and 4 people went and did it. This year, is it possible to break 35 minutes?

I was thinking about deleting the routes ridden by each rider, since everyone seems to be going with Betty to Lament to Dry. However, the trail building fairies have added a new option to get to the Alter, and I'm interested to see if anyone uses it.

Last year, we had a few holdouts. I think we may need to organize a lunch meeting soon in order to establish some benchmarks for measuring the remainder of fiscal year 2011. We'll each leave the shooting range at 1 minute intervals and do our best to catch the carrot in front of us. A bit anti-social, maybe, but my lungs are usually burning too much during lunch rides to talk anyway.

So go shred the trails, record your time and submit your result. You'll have to be pretty fast to dislodge Kevin from the top spot for this year. To see some Dry Canyon insanity, check out the last minute of Miles' video:

Spring Lunch Rides from atomicmiles on Vimeo.

Too Many Puppies

2010-05-10T15:37:00.004-06:00

If I were one of those avid bloggers who categorizes posts, this post would be filed under the "not at all related" category. Or maybe the "strange coincidence" category. Which brings my to my next point (although I never really had a first point): why do bloggers spend time categorizing posts? Does anyone ever actually click on a category? I, for one, have never clicked on a blog post category. If I ever did click on a category, it would be on Dug's "toilet/bathroom" category. Wait a minute, I just checked and Dug doesn't even have a "toilet/bathroom" category, which reaffirms my belief that blog post categories are useless.

... but I digress (assuming it's possible to digress without ever being on point in the first place)...

Earlier this morning, I read the following piece of Barbie literature with my daughter:

I've always gotten a good chuckle out of the name of this book, for reasons that will become apparent in a moment (unless it is already apparent to you, in which case you are awesome).

Immediately after reading this fine piece of literature with my daughter, I hopped in the car and started listening to one of the local high school radio stations. An utterly forgettable song finished, and the next song began:

Seriously, what are the odds of that happening? This is a song that's probably been played on the radio, what 3 times in history? (it's not exactly radio friendly) I read "Too Many Puppies" with my daughter, and 5 minutes later "Too Many Puppies" is playing on the radio. You know it's going to be a good day when coincidences like that happen.

Mother's Day Gift

2010-05-05T13:36:00.003-06:00

With Mother's Day right around the corner, I'm sure I'm not the only person scrambling to find a gift that acts as a down payment for all the races and rides planned for the upcoming summer. Shoot, who am I kidding? For most of us, it's more like a small payment against an insurmountable pile of debt.

Well, I've found the perfect gift for you. As cyclists, most of us suffer from a disorder that plagues us as a consequence for our ability to consume amounts of food that most non-cyclists believe to be humanly impossible. It also doesn't help that burritos act as the main staple of our diets. Yes, I speak of flatulence. The experts will try and tell you that money and infidelity are the main causes of divorce. Let's not kid ourselves. Flatulence is the number one marriage killer.

So give your sweetheart the gift that keeps on giving. It might just save your marraige:

My wife let me in on this little secret. I wish I could say she was joking when she told me about it.

RAWROD TT, 2010

2010-04-24T23:01:00.011-06:00

I decided on a change of pace this year and opted to "time trial" the White Rim on Friday rather than the traditional RAWROD group ride on Saturday. Sorry, no pics this year. If you're looking for pics, I'm sure there will be 10 other blogs to provide plenty of documentation. If you're looking for a decent story... well, I'm sure you'll find that somewhere else too. But here's what happened to me.

A group of 9 of us (Jesse, Adam, Keith, Carson, Brad, Miles, Brandon, Rick and me) met at the 313/Mineral Bottom Junction at 8:30am. Most of us woke up at 4:30am to make the drive down. After shivering in the parking lot for a half hour, the imaginary gun went off (well, more like Adam DQ'd himself from the entire race with his 10 second false start, and then we all followed him) and we started the ride down Mineral Bottom road. We cruised past the campground at the top of Horsethief together and plummeted into the abyss. As I approached the 5th switchback there was a slight left bend in the road before the left switchback. I was going full speed and tapped my breaks to start slowing down for the turn. No sooner did I tap my breaks did my front tire slide out. Before I even realized I was going down, I was skidding on my left side.

Who crashes on the White Rim? Seriously, anyone? Actually, I seem to remember someone going down in a similar fashion on Shaffer's last year. Was that Walkyourhorse? Well anyway, I'm now one of the few who have crashed on the White Rim.

I came screeching to a stop and my immediate reaction was that I was going to be fine. It only took a couple of seconds to realize that I was not fine. In fact, I was pretty jacked up. Brad rolled up and was looking at me like he thought I was dead. Apparently, it was quite a spectacular slam.

I picked myself up and tried to assess the situation. Cracked helmet, scratched glassed, and pretty much my entire left side had gone through the meat grinder. My main immediate concern was my hand since it was bleeding a bit, and it wasn't long before I could hardly move my fingers. The guys behind me stopped, bandaged me up, and Jesse hooked me up with some ibuprofen. I wasn't sure I could continue, and was reluctantly starting to come to terms with the fact that my day was probably over, so I told the guys to go ahead (they already blew 10 minutes of the TT's on me). After they left, I paced back and forth a bit and decided that ather than risk getting stuck at the bottom of Horsethief, I would start riding back up toward the camp to figure out if I could continue the ride.

I started pedaling and soon realized that my hand was only part of the problem. My left hip and thigh took most of the hit, and I could hardly pedal. I limped my way up to the camp and threw my helmet down in disgust. I was so pissed that I ruined my entire day so early due to a split second's worth of inattentiveness. I'm such a freaking spaz sometimes. I sat down for about 45 minutes in hopes of a miracle of some sort. I finally climbed back on my bike, resigned to wallow in my sorrows on the way back to Miles' truck. At the very least, I may as well go hang out in Moab for the day. The first minute of pedaling confirmed what I already knew - I was done. It was all I could do to not start pedaling 1-legged to save my left side.

About a mile up Mineral Bottom road, I had a nice little surprise. The ibuprofen kicked in and mobility came back to my hand, and while my leg still hurt, I was actually able soft pedal without much problem. I kept thinking about how I'd taken the day off work, taken a day away from the family, had spent so much time getting my crap ready, etc., and it was all being wasted. Then the miracle did happen. Master of Puppets started playing on my iPod (don't lie - you either have it on your iPod or you wish you did) and I suddenly felt like kicking some ass. Or something like that.

Before heading back down Horsethief, I spent a few more minutes trying to straighten my rotor, since it had gotten bent during the crash and my wheel and wasn't spinning too well. While working on my rotor, I did a quick sanity check to make sure I wasn't doing anything too stupid. It was about 10:20am. I figured I had almost 10 more hours of daylight, and even going nice and slow I should be able to make it back before dark. I decided to ride toward Hardscrabble, and if things got bad, I'd turn around and limp back out of Horsethief. Worst-case scenario is that I keep going past Hardscrabble and my leg completely seizes up at mile 50. Well even then, it's not like I was heading into Antarctica. This was the White Rim and there are trucks down there, right? I mean, I may not have 60 RAWROD riders and support vehicles to help me out, but it's not like I'd ever be left for dead down there.

I messed with my brakes until my wheel could spin for a good 5 seconds or so and headed down. I rode past the camp (for the 3rd time), and dropped back into Horsethief (for the second time), and you can bet that I was extra sketched out as I rode past my 20 foot long skid mark at the 5th switchback. I got down to the river in one piece and started riding a nice steady pace toward Hardscrabble.

Things were going well. I couldn't pedal hard, but I figured I didn't need to on a 100 mile day. I just needed to pedal consistent. I missed the left hand turn up Hardscrabble (who put those rocks across the turn up Hardscrabble anyway? I'm putting my money on Adam or Rick - trying to throw the rest of us off. They'd do just about anything to beat Brad), but luckily so did two other guys who set me straight after riding about a third of a mile in the wrong direction.

I took it fairly easy up Hardscrabble, made it to the top and did a quick assessment. I figured that my leg hadn't stopped working after 30 miles, so it would probably keep working for the next 70, so I rolled off the other side of Hardscrabble and into Potato Bottom. I figured this was pretty much the point of no return.

The ride from Hardscrabble to Murphy's Hogback was uneventful. In fact, the main thing I remember about that section was that I got a bit lonely. I don't know that I've ever ridden my bike for more than 3 or 4 hours in complete solitude before now, and I guess it caught up to me. Then I started thinking about why the White Rim is such a special place, and it really comes down to its remoteness. On the White Rim, you can ride for miles and miles without seeing another soul (especially if it's not RAWROD Saturday), and there is no sign of civilization anywhere. After about mile 50, I really started loving the solitude. It may sound cheesy, but the solitude was sorta cleansing, in a way, and I was glad to be riding rather than sitting in some Moab cafe, moping about my wasted weekend.

I kept telling myself that Murphy's was a long way off so that I wouldn't get my hopes up, and then before I knew it I was riding across the top of Murphy's mesa. I stopped and checked my front brake, which ended up being a mistake. It was rubbing pretty bad now, so I tried to fix it. In the process, I stripped one of the ti bolts and made the brake rub even worse. After 2-3 more unsuccessful attempts, the rubbing was at an all time high, and I was grateful for my iPod to block out the screeching sound.

I dropped the other side of Murphy's and could tell that the ibuprofen was wearing off. I popped my last two pills, and within 5 more miles was feeling the best I'd felt all day. I'm sure the gradual descent combined with my ethereal high helped, but I felt like I was on top of the world while flying toward Musselman Arch. I even nearly forgot about the dull pain in my left thigh for a few minutes.

I rode by the Arch without stopping and made it through the last few little climbs before rounding the corner that takes you to the base of Shaffer's. I ran into Miles, which was nice not only for the good company, but also because he was my ride back to camp. I figured that if he had finished before me and found his truck sitting there, he would most likely have though I had spent the whole day down at camp and driven down to find me. That would have left me riding down Mineral Bottom to the camp (again), which would have sucked. So it was great to be able to run into Miles, just before he finished his first dirt century. Nice one, Miles.

Shaffer's is a beast. Not only does it look impossible from the bottom, but you climb and climb for what feels like forever, and then look up and it hardly looks like you've made any progress at all. The higher you get, the higher the cliffs get.

To make along story a bit longer, I finally made it up Shaffer's and eventually rolled into the parking lot at the end of the dreaded pavement. My official time was around 9 hrs 20 min. Injury time at the top of Horsethief took 1:04. Riding time was 8:03. During the last 80 miles, I rode with a guy from Infinite Cycles for about a mile, and I rode with Miles for about the same. The other 78 miles were ridden in complete solitude. I was glad I pushed through and finished. I felt like I did something that I didn't think would be possible 8 hours earlier.

After eating a few of Kenny's famous brats and bread, I headed home with Miles and Brad to cap off a huge day. I woke up Saturday morning and felt like I'd been run over by a freight train. Left knee, thigh, hip, rib, shoulder, and especially wrist are all in pain. I don't think the pain would have been much different had I not ridden the loop, so I'm glad I did. I'm lucky that all my injuries are pretty superficial - in a week, I'll probably forget about them. Seriously, if I were a bit tougher, I would have just continued riding with the group rather than wasted an hour up at camp.

Since I didn't post pictures, I'm posting the ride details instead. If you zoom all the way in, you can see my indecisiveness near the camp/crash site.

P.S. check out Miles' awesome video from the ride.

Dusk Patrol

2010-04-14T14:10:00.008-06:00

I'm not sure why I didn't figure this out before now, but last night I finally realized that some of the best spring skiing/boarding does not happen during 5am Dawn Patrols. It happens during 5pm Dusk Patrols. With daylight savings, it's possible to get amazing in turns till after 8pm. However, by switching to dusk patrol, you do give up the following benefits that only dawn patrol can offer:

Waking up at 4am.
Getting addicted to caffeine so that you can stay awake at work.
Spending your second (or third or forth) lap worrying about whether you'll miss your morning meeting.
-10 degrees.
Starting in the dark.
Showing up and finding 4 feet of snow in the parking lot, making it impossible to park.

hmmm... dusk patrols are sounding better and better. The only downside is the minor detail of not seeing your kids all night. Unless, of course, you can bring your kid with you. Here are the father and son duo of Daren and Tanner in in action:

Next year Aubrie will be 6. With the way she's tearing up the resorts, I think she'll be ready to help me justify a lot more dusk patrols next year.

Adam and I were able to get an early start, so we headed up to Cardiff for a quick lap. Not sure why, but I always like the up photos as much as or more than the down. Especially when they're taken in daylight, which seldom happens during dawn patrols.

Heading up toward Cardiff's summit:

Superior looking... well... like a bad pun (as if there's such thing as a good one):

Adam ripping the down...

...but runs into some technical difficulties. Equipment failure. Yeah, that's it:

We met up with the Cottles and headed up Toledo Bowl, dropped down Holy Toledo, and then climbed back to Cardiff Peak. Rick, if you're still not convinced that the South side of Cardiff wasn't bulletproof, consider the following additional pieces of evidence:

Thanks to Mark for organizing Dusk Patrol last night. That really sucks about your meeting...

Thanks, Mr. Scottie

2010-04-01T11:44:00.006-06:00

"I can gather all the news I need on the weather report."

Paul Simon must have been a skier.

With whisperings of 30 inches of snow, we flocked to the backcountry this morning. The north side of LCC was closed for bombing, which made the White Pine trailhead a popular (and noisy) destination.

*Pic stolen from Rick

So was the snow any good up in Scottie's Bowl? I'll let the following pictures of Adam and Ben answer that question:

And no tour with Ben would be complete without at least one cliff drop:

The weather report is looking good for tomorrow too. I'm telling you, April is going to redeem this entire lackluster snow year. No foolin'.

Spring Moab

2010-03-31T15:31:00.004-06:00

Despite rolling her eyes and riding off each time I stopped to pull out my camera, KC has requested that I provide the documentation from this weekend's Moab epic ride (only about 60% as epic as those who did the Moab Rim Ride/Race on the same day though (which, um, didn't really happen in case anyone from the Forest Service is reading this)).

The route was a little something like this:

Watch out, Chris is Edgy, (and yes, my Paint skillz are unparalleled):
KC loving Chris' edgyness

Surprisingly, KC offered to stop and take this picture of what may be the most ridiculously named trail on earth:

One of the many highlights of the ride had to be riding past a few $50k jeeps on steroids on the way up to the top of Gold Bar. I'm sure they felt real tough having three dudes and a chick pedal past them while dressed in spandex.

The Holleys call this ride the best of the Rim Ride, and for good reason. The trails were awesome. Too bad the scenery had to suck so bad:

And now, just as I was ready to go into full bike-mode, we're getting 30 inches of snow in the mountains by tomorrow morning. Fortunately, I'm having no trouble cheating on winter with summer, and vice-versa, this year and I'm planning on getting my severance pop from winter tomorrow morning.

More Soul Than You

2010-03-31T14:20:00.003-06:00

A few friends who recognize how soulful I am have sent this to me within the past hour:

Now I'd better get back to listening to the Postal Service and using my Avalung as a bong.

The Pfeifferhorn

2010-03-26T11:03:00.008-06:00

What do you do when the snow kinda sucks? You hit some of the big mountains, like the Pfeifferhorn. That's what Adam and I decided to to, anyway. The quick powder shots we are used to aren't any good, but the big peaks become a lot more accessible.

We started hiking on dirt at the base of Dry Creek Canyon at around 5:15am, and soon hit snow. And of course, no big expedition would be complete without at least one stream crossing:

P-horn, aka Little Matterhorn, came into view and seemed a long way off. Probably because it was:

The snow got deeper and softer for a while so we skinned, but soon the terrain got steeper and the snow hardened back up, so we were booting again. Here's Adam with a nice view of the often ignored Box Elder Peak in the background.
It's funny how Box Elder seems like this mellow dome from the valley, on the rare occassion that people notice it wedged between Timpanogos and Lone Peak, but you get up close and realize that the shotgun chutes to the left and the Northwest Cirque to the right can offer as much of a challenge as any of the other big mountains.

The snow conditions were perfect for making fast progress. Hard enough that you rarely post-holed, but soft enough that you could get some good grip on the steeper sections. Here is Adam, working his way up to Lighting Ridge, with Chipman Peak in the background (No-Name Peak is just out of view to the right).
The rocky top of P-horn:
Up on Lighting Ridge, the northerly wind was stronger than anything I've ever experienced before. With my snowboard acting as a sail, I just about took a flying leap into Hogum Fork, down into LCC.

Box Elder (with Timp in the background) is starting to look a bit smaller from up here:
Adam making turns on the hard-pack, with the peak in the background:
Me doing the same, but looking much better thanks to Adam's photoshop skillz:

Adam working is way back down into Dry Creek:
And this is during a "bad" year in the Wasatch. Yeah, life is hard in Happy Valley.

Zero

2010-03-03T14:07:00.003-07:00

Zero is the stat of the winter for me. The first stat, I'm rather proud of:

Number of hours spent on my trainer this winter: Zero

It's not that I've been sitting around all winter. I've had plenty of days on skis

*You think taking a timed shot of yourself is difficult on a mountain bike? Try it on skate skis. And how awesome is the corduroy-close-up at the bottom?

...and in the backcountry:

*Not surprisingly, the only picture I could find of myself from this season is while I was dropping a cornice while testing for avalanches. It's been that kinda year.

..it's just that the winter stuff is good enough that riding in the basement has lost its appeal. There has been a downside to achieving (yes, it is an achievement) zero hours of trainer time though. About half-way through the winter, I realized that zero trainer time was a possibility. Since coming to this realization, there have been plenty of evenings where a ride on the trainer would have definitely been better than nothing... but I certainly didn't want to ruin my chances of achieving zero trainer hours, so I just sat on the couch instead.

I'm a bit disappointed about my second zero statistic:

Number of trips I've made to St. George this winter: Zero

Seriously, what is up with that? And I call myself a mountain biker? I think I planned 6 separate trips to San Jorge this winter, and they all fell through either due to work, family, or most commonly, rain. Yeah, rain. St. George, what is wrong with you? I think you've only had a couple dry weekends this entire winter. And sadly, the all-knowing weather.com is predicting that this weekend won't be one of them.

As Brandon has documented, I have been out on my bike a few times recently. You know, my typical race preparation routine of cramming all of my race-specific training into the week before the race and then being surprised when I'm cooked at the race itself?

I'm hoping that my recent rides will offset the fact that the Girl Scout cookies arrived on Monday. I'm pretty sure that Rick paid off the girl scouts so they'd deliver them to me the week of the first race. Bastard... Anyway, if there are Girl Scout cookies in my house, I must eat them immediately. Even if it means eating four boxes of them. I think there's a rule about that somewhere. In fact just found it. It's Fatty's first axiom of junk food in pantries. I knew there was a rule for it. I'm pretty sure I'll finish the rest of them this week while not riding my trainer. It's called carbo-loading.

Anyway, speaking of Saint George, I really am planning on being there this weekend, rain or shine. Lemme know if you're up for a Sunday or Monday ride. I'll be on the family schedule, which means I'll probably be riding early.

More Stupid

2010-02-04T06:57:00.002-07:00

As a follow-up to my previous post (and topics of this magnitude deserve a lot of follow up), Adam recently posted the following groundbreaking video. Who knew that Adam's background in videography would pay off in such a huge way:

Sometimes I do Stupid Things

2010-02-01T08:39:00.001-07:00

I was talking to a co-worker about all the number of bikes lining my garage, and he got a little hung-up when I got to my Felt Nine Solo single speed. He couldn't figure out why anyone in their right mind would chose to ride such a a silly contraption, and that doing so was stupid. The following conversation ensued:

Me: Well, by having a single speed, it forces you to push harder, so it makes you faster.

Him: Then why not just pick a gear on your Superfly that matches your single speed gear and not shift? Wouldn't that accomplish the same thing?

Me: Yeah, technically it would. But there's something nice about how simple and straightforward a single speed is. Fewer moving parts, you know.

Him: It's not like bikes are that complicated to begin with. Even a bike with gears has to be one of the simplest machines around.

Me: [trying to think up another good reason to ride a single speed...]

Him: Well, at least a single speed is lighter than a bike with gears since it doesn't have the cogs, chainrings, derailleurs, and shifters...

Me: Um, Yeah... except that it isn't. My geared bike is 3-4 pounds lighter than my single speed.

Him: [shaking his head at me...]

Me: I guess you're right. Single speeds are stupid. And sometimes I like to do stupid things.

Look how "simple" the eccentric bottom bracket on my single speed is!

BASH Winter Tri, 2010

2010-01-28T12:37:00.008-07:00

Because my posts have been pretty infrequent lately, and mainly to bury the first two images I used in my last post, I've decided to do the unthinkable and post twice in a single day. Last Saturday, I got all tri-geeked out for the Bash Winter Triathlon.

I raced this last year, and felt like I did pretty well for my first "tri." Last year, I showed up and immediately felt intimidated and overwhelmed. There were all these guys and gals that seemed to knew each other, had the awesome gear, and knew what they were doing. And here I was, having run a total of 3 times that year in preparation, trying compete with them. Well, it turns out that most of the participants last year were hacks like me, and most importantly, the majority of them appeared to have never ridden their bikes off-road (and the bike portion was on very soft groomed snow) and didn't know how to cross country ski.

This year, the competition and difficulty was raised up a notch. Or maybe 5-10 notches. It turns out that winter triathlons are somewhat of an official event, with a national championship and even a world championship. Last year, the national championship was held in Bend, Oregon. Apparently there were quite a few "real" triathletes there. Even Ned "the lung" Overend showed up and "only" managed a 6th place finish. I know he's getting up there in years and all, but he's still pretty dang fast.

It just so happened that this year, the winter triathlon national championship was being held right here in Soldier Hollow in conjunction with the Bash Winter Tri, and the top three finishers would be sent to the world championships in Norway. I figured that the level of competition would go up due to this, but I didn't expect it to go up by as much as it did. Oh, and Ned didn't show up. I think I scared him off.

To compound matters, the triathlon included a mass start of two completely separate races. First was a "full" triathlon, which was a 5k run, 10k bike and 8k ski. Second was a "sprint" triathlon, which was a 5k run, 5k bike and 4k ski. I found out during the race and afterwards

while looking at the results that the full triathlon was primarily made up of the fast guys, and the sprint was made up primarily with the hacks (like me). I (somewhat foolishly?) had signed up for the full triathlon. It went a little something like this:

The Run:

Have you ever had that dream where you are being chased, or maybe are chasing someone else, but you feel like you are running underwater? No matter how hard you try to run faster, you just seem to go slower? If so, then you pretty much know how the run went for me. I was a little bummed out because I'd actually been running for the past couple months and had started to feel like I could run sorta fast. Not really fast, mind you, but sorta fast. I had run a 5k in about

20 minutes (again, not really fast, but an improvement for me) and was hoping to be able to run in the softer snow in 21 or less. I ended up taking a few minutes longer, and could never snap out of whatever funk I was in. On the one minor hill on the course, it was all I could do to not start walking.

The Bike:

I was really hoping to ride this with an aero-bar and aero-helmet to fully embrace the inner tri-geek, but decided to go with the normal helmet and flat bar. I was really happy to stop running and get on the bike since I was finally in my element. The conditions were really soft by this time, because we were riding on the same snow that we had just run on. The soft conditions favored a mountain biker and I was able to pass people quite a few on the first lap. The second lap was tricky to know how you were doing because we were catching some lapper traffic (and some of the "sprint" racers), but I had a a good time trying to rail some of the snowy corners on the descent.

The Ski:

The greatest thing by far about winter triathlons is that there is no swim portion. Not only because it would suck to break through the ice in Deer Creek Reservoir in order to swim through it, but because swimming sucks in general. I'm sorry if I've offended you, but it does. The way you train is by floating (or in my case, sinking) in a literal pool of other people's filth and swimming back and forth, looking down at a painted line that warns you when you're about to bash your head against a wall. You don't actually go anywhere or see anything that's worth seeing, so it's becomes pretty mind-numbing. I've even heard that companies are selling waterproof mp3 players in order to reduce the suckiness of swimming.

Instead of swimming, you have a XC ski leg, and XC skiing is awesome, even if I'm not awesome at doing it. Since the ski was replacing the swim, the inner tri-geek in me wanted to ski in a speedo and goggles, but I figured nobody would want to see that. And in that 10 degree weather, there would probably not be much to see... but I digress. Last year, I was one of the faster skiers. But what I didn't realize at the time was that the real skiers didn't show up last year. This year, I think I'm a better skier, but got smoked by the a bunch of guys who were seriously fast.

I got onto the skis and realized that I was already cooked from the run and bike. My legs felt like jello as I tried to get around the 4k course two times. I was grateful for the few people on classic skis who made me feel fast on my skate skis. However, at the end of my first lap, I was going up "the wall" (you may remember it from the ICUP races at Soldier Hollow), and was barely going faster than the guys who were literally walking up it. Then a rocket came by. The overall winner was on a rampage. I honestly didn't think it was possible to go that fast up that steep of a hill on XC skis. It reminded me of my first mountain bike race at the "Desert Rampage" in 2006 when Bart Lapped me while heading up the wash in his big ring, me in my granny Laberta. Both inspiring and humiliating at the same time.

I found a little bit of juice on the second lap, but not much. It was clear that I had made the mistake of overtraining the week before to try and compensate for our Costa Rica trip.

You'll notice that I'm still wearing my helmet during the ski. I was apparently tired enough during the transition from bike to ski that I'd completely forgotten about it. Now instead of a tri-geek, I'm tri-dork

In the end, I didn't do quite as well as I had hoped, but the Winter Tri is a fun race that serves as great motivation for the months of December and January. I'd like to do it again, but the $70 price tag seems a bit steep for a 1.5 hour race. I guess I'm just accustomed to the $35 mountain bike races. But since I'm a sucker, I wouldn't be surprised to find myself at the Bash Winter Tri in 2011.

Costa Rica, Part II

2010-01-16T06:08:00.002-07:00

Man, we've been back from Costa Rica for a week, and looking back on it seems like a lifetime ago. It's been a crazy week with work, etc., and I can't help but get jealous thinking about the dude I met sitting on his porch looking out over the ocean from my previous post.

After our stay at Osa Peninsula (Part I), we reluctantly flew up to Quepos, a small town on the central Pacific coast of Costa Rica. I say "reluctantly" because we loved Osa, but Quepos ended up being worth the trip.

One of the highlights of the Quepos area was... the hotel. I know, sounds lame right? Like we're one of those people who go to Hawaii and never leave the resort. But it's not like that. I got the recommendation from Watcher, and without it I would have never even looked twice at this hotel. My wife was still a bit hesitant being that it's not right on the beach, but I assured her that Watcher would not steer us wrong, and if she'd just look at one of his "awesome graphics", she'd understand.

We flew into the Quepos airport (which looks more like an open air market than a fruit stand (see previous post)) and started driving to the hotel. Almost immediately we were on a bumpy dirt road that was taking us through a huge palm tree plantation. Wesla was giving me that "are you sure you know what you've gotten us into?" look, but refrained from saying anything. The palms eventually turned to forest, and then the forest had a nice little haven that was the Blue Banyon Hotel.

Here are a few pics of the place:

The Banyon tree, from which the hotel gets its name:

From Costa Rica

Our cottage:

The view from the front porch:

The place was highlighted by the owners, Jim and Barb, who not only rescued a bunch of monkeys...

... but also made awesome banana pancakes for breakfast, and had a knack for telling us about their local secret stashes, which included this beach:

I know, awesome sunglasses right? Those are Costa Rican specials. The ones we brought with us are sitting at the bottom of the ocean somewhere.

This beach was way off the beaten path, and we could not see a single soul for miles in each direction.

We also spent a day in the local national park called "Manuel Antonio." I have to admit that after going to Corcovado in Osa, Manuel Antonio felt a bit like a zoo with all of the people. That said, we still saw loads of great animals, thanks again to our hired guide.

A sloth:

A monkey hanking from a vine:

The white-faced monkey that I watched take someone's lunch right off of the beach and run 20 feet high into the trees before the previous owner of the lunch knew what happened. And then the monkey accidentally dropped the lunch, jumped back onto the ground, grabbed the lunch, and went back up into the tree, still all before the previous lunch owner knew what hit him.

The views from the top of Manuel Antonio looked like this:

And of course, no trip to Costa Rica would be complete without at least one canopy tour, right?

We decided to schedule the zipline tour on our last day. We figured that if we were going to break our necks like Toby, we'd do it on our last day in Costa Rica instead of the first.

I've been coping with coming back to this cold, dark, dreary, smoggy, trafficy, foggy... (okay, it's not that bad) world that I call home by training for the winter triathlon that starts in about 2 hrs (I'm just about to leave for Soldier Hollow). We'll see how I respond to my "relax on the beach and eat Gallo Pinto for 8 days, train your but off for 5 straight days, and hope that the day before the race is enough recovery time" training plan. I'll let you know how it goes.

Costa Rica, La Pura Vida

2010-01-12T11:00:00.000-07:00

Last August, the misses and I hit the 10 year mark. We wanted to do something big, and ultimately decided that Costa Rica would fit the bill. However, in August, Costa Rica is in the midst of a non-stop downpore. We decided that rather than leave Utah during our nicest time of the year to head to Costa Rica during one of its rainiest months of the year, we'd postpone our anniversary trip to January in hopes that we'd miss a week of inversion in Utah in exchange for the nicest part of the year in Costa Rica. I'd say that things worked out swimmingly.

We flew into San Jose, CR just in time to bring in the New Year. During the flight, I have to admit to lamenting about missing Kenny's New-Year's ride. Wesla wanted to smack me, and I probably would have deserved it. Upon arriving in San Jose, we headed to a shindig in the city which was nice and all, but it turns out that most Costa Ricans bring in the New Year with the family, and then head out to party till morning. We had an early flight to catch the next morning, so we had our first taste of Gallo Pinto (rice, beans, and their secret sauce) and called it a night.

The next morning, we headed to a little slice of heaven called the Osa Peninsula.
La Peninsula de Osa is tucked away on the southwest corner of CR. Although it's only 100 miles away from San Jose (as the crow flies), it takes about 8 hours to drive to due to the multiple mountain passes and poor road conditions. Although I think the drive would be fun, we flew to Osa on a domestic airline instead, which took about 40 minutes.

From Costa Rica

We stayed on the Drake Bay side of the Peninsula, and according to some of the locals, the first cars did not arrive to Drake Bay until 8 years ago, and Drake Bay did not have a power plant until 4 years ago.

The area is very undeveloped, and reminded us of our visit to Mangrove Cay in the Bahamas last year. Very low key, great locals, amazing beaches, etc. What sets Drake Bay apart is its proximity to Corcovado National Park. We took a 1 hour boat ride to the heart of the park and took a guided tour through some amazing rain forest.

The guide was simply amazing. I'm guessing that if Wesla and I had ventured out by ourselves, we would have been lucky to have seen 4-5 different animals. The guide had a sixth sense for spotting all sorts of animals hiding in the canopy above us and on the earth below, and usually had some interesting science or history behind each siting.

The toucan:

Spider monkey:

Cool tree - Watcher, what's this called?

Baby howler monkey with mama:

These leaf-cutter ants were honestly one of the coolest things we saw.

Each of these little leaves on the trunk are being carried by an ant. They'd march to the top of this tree, cut out a leaf, and carry it back home to use as a bed to grow mushrooms, which were used for food. The ants had walked this tree and the ground below enough that they had worn in a nice little single-track path. Watching these ants go to work was simply amazing.

An American crocodile, which happens to be my new favorite Spanish word: cocodrilo. I could say that over and over again all day...

Nice little waterfall:

The next day, we headed out to Cano Island for some snorkeling. Unfortunately we don't have an underwater camera to capture all of the fish, coral and reef sharks out there. The water was 80 degrees and even a skinny guy like me could swim around all day without getting cold. My sunburned back is evidence of that. And by the way, don't trust Costa Rican sunblock. The SPF 60 that we bought locally didn't work half as well as the SPF 30 from home.

One of favorite things about travelling is seeing how the local people live. Here are a couple of pics to give you an idea of what life is like in La Peninsula de Osa. My favorite is the local airport:

No, that's not a fruit stand. That's the entire airport. The security screening consisted of... um... well nothing. I put my own bag into the airplane. Pura vida.

Another of my favorites is this is a little place that I came across while wondering around some of the trails near our hotel:

The only way to get to this house was to walk a half mile up the 1-track trail you can see in the pic. I spent 15 minutes talking to the guy sitting on the front porch. He guides tours through Corcovado by day and enjoys la pura vida by night by sitting on the porch and looking down at the ocean. I bet that prime real estate must run him $50 a month. Maybe less.

Next up is our visit to the Quepos area. At my current rate of updating my blog, I'll get to that sometime in March!

Santa Stopped By

2009-12-26T09:38:00.003-07:00

Whatever could it be!?
No, I'm not talking about my wife's "Fall Moab Pillows" in the background.

It's nearly 3 lbs off of my current setup by the time everything is said and done, that's what:

Santa also got me a new set of uber-light tires (which may or may not actually hold air), a new set of uber-light rotors (which may or may not actually stop me) and converted my bike to a 1x9 setup (he's a pretty good mechanic). I reserve the right to throw granny LaBerta back on from time to time for courses like Park City Point to Point and Solitude.

Please don't sneeze when I pass you (which is bound to happen quite often with my new setup). I'm afraid you might break my new wheels.

I'm hoping that the weight savings on my bike will offset the fact that I haven't actually ridden a bike in about 3 weeks, and I've been doing nothing but eating pie, cookies and ice cream for the past 3 days. Playing in the snow and with the family has been fun though.

The Happiest Place on Earth! Yeah!

2009-12-04T10:45:00.001-07:00

Has anyone seen this list floating around? It's the 10 "Happiest" states:

1) Utah: 69.2
2) Hawaii: 68.2
3) Wyoming: 68
4) Colorado: 67.3
5) Minnesota: 67.3
6) Maryland: 67.1
7) Washington: 67.1
8) Massachusetts: 67
9) California: 67
10) Arizona: 66.8

Well of course we're the happiest! With all of the Prozac we take, how could we not be!?

The Flawed Study and Hypothesis

The study was entitled, "Happiest States are Wealthy and Tolerant." The website that published this study is called "livescience.com", so one would think it would be safe to assume that the wealthy + tolerant = happy hypothesis is based on rock-solid incontrovertible scientific evidence.

However, the fact that Utah is neither extraordinarily wealthy (14th out of 50) or tolerant (unless tolerance really just means "so homogeneous that tolerance is really easy", i.e., you are tolerant toward people who are just like you, which becomes easy when the majority shares your political and religious beliefs) made me question the wealth + tolerant = happy hypothesis.

The New Hypothesis

Upon identifying the flaws in the wealth + tolerant = happy hypothesis, I set out to find a new explanation for what makes a state happy. After minutes of extensive study and analysis, I've come up with a new hypothesis. The evidence supporting my hypothesis is so strong that it completely debunks the wealth+tolerance=happiness myth. My hypothesis is as simple as it is true:

The Happiest States have Good Mountain Biking.

The Evidence:

Of the top 10 on the list, almost every single one has great mountain biking. Check it out: Utah, Hawaii, Wyoming, Colorado, Minnesota (which I hear has one of the best race series around), Washington, Maryland (which I hear has excellent east-coast singletrack), California, and Arizona. Mass is the only one I'm not sure of. If you keep going down the entire list, the evidence is equally strong, with Idaho, Montana, New Hampshire, Vermont, New Mexico, Oregon, and Alaska all making the top 20.

On the other hand, take a look at the most depressed/unhappy states:

40. Louisiana: 64.2
41. Michigan: 64.0
42. Tennessee: 64.0
43. Oklahoma: 64.0
44. Missouri: 63.8
45. Indiana: 63.3
46. Arkansas: 62.9
47. Ohio: 62.8
48. Mississippi: 61.9
49. Kentucky: 61.4
50. West Virginia: 61.2

Hey, I'm planning a mountain biking trip that hits every one of these bottom-ten states. Anyone want to come? Didn't think so.

The Happiest Place

Now that I've definitively established that mountain biking makes happy states, let's take another look at my assertion that "tolerance" really means "homogeneous" in this study. If that's the case, then it's no wonder that Utah County is called "Happy Valley." In fact, between its homogeneity and incredible mountain biking, I may very well live in the happiest place on earth! But if you're not just like me, please ride somewhere else. Thanks.

If you are just like me, please meet today at the Shooting Range (above the Orem Cemetary) at 1pm for what may be the last snowless ride of the season. We'll be riding "RAPR" (Ride Around Provo River), which basically looks like this.

Insider Tip for Riding with a Single Speeder

2009-11-30T09:02:00.001-07:00

Most of you geared riders have gone through this, I'm sure. You showed up to a group ride a few years back and there was some joker there with a single speed. You sort of rolled your eyes and were maybe even somewhat annoyed that you'd have to wait for this guy. And then he completely smoked you. Ever since, you've been wondering what could possibly be done do slow these single speeders down to a pace you could keep up with.

Well last week during a ride with a SS'er, I inadvertently stumbled across an N-step process for bringing single speeders down to the level of a mere mortal. When used properly on most SS'ers, the process works like Kryptonite.

1) Only ride with a single speeder if there are trails nearby that are at least 20% grade. Preferably closer to 30%.

2) Right at the beginning of the ride, start talking about how there are some nearby trails that you've really been wanting to try (the trails that exceed 20% grade).

3) Mention that the trails are a bit steep, so you don't know if it's a good idea for a single speeder to ride them.

4) (VERY IMPORTANT STEP, which is why I'm putting this in caps, bold, underline and in red font, which is by far the best way to denote importance) Tell at least one of those single speeder jokes that just never get old, like "well, if it gets too steep you can always shift into an easier gear... oh wait, ha ha ha ha." Single speeders LOVE these jokes. Seriously, they can't get enough of them.

***Note: steps 3 and 4 are like SS'er bait, and it works better on SS'ers than rainbow-colored powerbait at a fish farm. Upon hearing these types of jokes, a SS simply cannot resist the opportunity to prove his/her ability to ride anything you can on gears.

5) Take them on the steep trails first thing. There is no point in making their kneecaps explode at the end of the ride. While riding these trails, shift into your granny gear and try to keep a straight face.

6) Once the SS'ers are good and tired, then ride the other trails you had planned on riding from the beginning. If you've implemented the process with the requisite level of proficiency, the SS'ers will be so tired that you may actually keep them in sight during the remainder of the ride.

This process is subject to two caveats:

1) This process can never be used against he who discovered and disclosed the process when he is riding his single speed (i.e., me).

2) The process fails if the single speeder you're riding with is named Kenny. He'll bury you regardless of which trails you take.

You're welcome.

Didn't Take Long

2009-11-26T19:45:00.001-07:00

I figured someone would turn a sub-40 on the Dry Loop TT. I didn't think it would happen till next year though. While I was finishing my 4th (or was it 5th?) piece of pie (let's see, 1 slice lemon meringue, 2 of apple, 1 berry, 1 pumpkin... yeah, it was 5) someone else was setting a record time in Dry Canyon. Check it.

Brandon and I were the only participants in the "Frozen Turkey" ride this morning. We did an out and back on the Great Western Trail toward Little Baldy before descending Dry. Great Western is a great trail that merits further research during a future lunch meeting. During the descent down Dry, we had an audience or 3 or 4 Thanksgiving hikers while we both smoked the pipe. I'm guessing that 99% of the population would look at that portion of trail and conclude that it would be impossible to ride it on a bike. Hopefully Brandon and I gave them a good story to tell over Thanksgiving dinner.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

MLS Cup Final

2009-11-25T09:56:00.000-07:00

I've always been a bit of a soccer fan. I played growing up, but haven't touched a soccer ball much since high school. Nowadays, spectating will have to do, at least until this whole bike riding phase wears off.

During the 2002 World Cup in Japan/Korea, the U.S. actually had a decent run and a few of my college friends and I were desperate to watch some of the key matches. Of course, none of us could actually afford cable, but I happened to live in a place where cable was included in the rent. This was back when I couldn't even afford a VCR, so the only option was to watch it live. This meant getting a knock at my door every few nights for a couple of weeks at 2 or 3am. I'd pull myself out of bed to let my friends in, and we'd spend the rest of the night yelling, screaming, jumping, and doing everything else in our power to keep my wife and the rest of my unfortunate neighbors awake. Those were good times. For us. Maybe not so much for my neighbors.

So when RSL came to town 5 seasons ago, we decided to go in on season tickets with some friends of ours. Last week when RSL surprised everyone (well, everyone within the small percentage of the population who follow the MLS, anyway) by beating Chicago to reach the MLS cup finals, I figured I may as well check out the ticket prices. The best tickets available were only $25. I figured this could be a rare opportunity so I bought a couple. The next morning, I told my wife that we should start looking for babysitters, because we were taking a road trip to Seattle for the MLS finals. She was all in.

The road trip with just the two of us reminded me of the good old days. It had been a while, and it was long overdue. There's something about a long trip in the car with your significant other to a destination that really doesn't seem to merit the drive that just hits the spot every once in a while (and no, I'm not talking about the road trip to Fruita with Brandon). This is especially true when the destination ends up far exceeding expectations like Seattle did on this trip. The game itself ended up being the most exciting and memorable sporting event I've ever attended.

I was especially impressed with the turnout from the RSL fans. Being that the L.A. Galaxy market is at least 10 times the SLC market, not to mention the Beckham factor, I figured we'd see at least 10 times more Galaxy fans than RSL fans. It was just the opposite though. Between the RSL fans who made the trip and the local Seattle fans who overwhelmingly adopted the underdog RSL team, the crowd was crazy for RSL which created a raucous atmosphere that added to the experience. The tension in the second have and extra time was palpable, as RSL had numerous chances to win the game but failed to convert, and the tension carried over to the shootout to the point that I thought the stadium was going to spontaneously combust.

Here is a quick video compilation to give you a feel for what it was like to be at the MLS cup final. The camera work really sucks at the end. No seriously, it sucks really really bad. But I wasn't too interested in filming at the time - I was more intereated in the thrill of victory and agony of defeat that was going on around me, which often included getting jumped on, hugged, and high fived by the people around us. So sorry for the camera work, but it should give you an idea of the atmosphere in the stadium.

For better footage, here are the highlights, including the shootout:

Alternative Uses for CarboRocket

2009-11-19T09:01:00.003-07:00

As I eluded to in my previous post, a couple weeks ago during a lunch meeting (we were conducting research on Frank at the time), a few of the local marketing geniuses (i.e., me and my friends) held a spontaneous brainstorming session to come up with some ideas for CarboRocket's winter advertising campaign . Unfortunately, most of Kenny's ideas were NSFW. However, we did come up with some pretty good ideas that Brad should consider incorporating.

Basically, the ad campaign goes something like this: We all know that CarboRocket works miracles. However, CarboRocket will always be limited in its growth potential if it is only tapping the hydration market. What many people may not realize is that CR's uses can go way beyond hydration. The winter ad campaign focuses on these often ignored uses. For instance:

1) Miracle cure: Dan (the Intern) has miraculously cured a Mark-sized gash to his arm, simply by pouring CR in the wound. A day after the wound was inflicted, there was no sign of the injury.
2) Lube: For bikes, of course. And tools that don't quite fit and/or get stuck while in use. Kenny had some additional ideas here that may need to be further vetted offline.

3) Shammy Cream: Apply in powder form. Add sweat and it creates the perfect consistency. Trust me.

4) Chain Cleaner/Degreaser: There has been some talk that peeing on your chain is also a good substitute. This is absolutely true, as long as you are drinking the proper amount of CarboRocket, in which case there should be no distinguishable difference between your pee and CR.

5) Baby Formula: You think you're going to make fast kids by feeding them milk!? Pffft...

6) Flu Vaccine: I've heard people complaining about swine flue vaccine shortages. I'm not sure what the problem is, because last I checked, Racer's still had plenty of CR.

Brad - feel free to incorporate any of these ideas into your winter advertising campaign. We accept all forms of payment, including CarboRocket.

And to all, please feel free to add the N'th use for CarboRocket in the comments.

New Time Trial in Town

2009-11-17T09:39:00.003-07:00

So I realize that November 17th isn't exactly the best time to be introducing yet another TT. But I'm being optomistic that that current good riding conditions in the Timp Foothill Trails will continue.

Last week Mr. Maddox and I were in a bit of a hurry, so we decided to ride the Dry Canyon Loop without stopping like we normally do to rave about the trail, talk about tired legs, and think up alternative uses for CarboRocket. When we finished, we noted our times, and started talking about what how the current Time Trial blogs in existence currently all lack a key element: a real mountain biking course.

Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against a trail that's almost as smooth as a sidewalk that you sprint up in 7-12 minutes. It's a good indicator of top-end fitness, or in my case, a good indicator of my lack thereof. But how often will you race a 10 minute dirt hillclimb? When have you ever ridden up without looking forward to the down?

So being the marketing geniuses that we are, we decided to fill this "gap" in the time trial market, and the Dry Loop Time Trial was born. It's certainly different than anything that's currently out there, at least locally. It even gives you options for which route to take. For instance, the new lower belt trail:

Photo credits to Adam

After our initial attempt, I got an email from Maddox (co-founder). He tells me that on his way home from the ride, he asks himself "do we really want to encourage riders to go all out on that descent? I decided, hell yes!"

So there you have it, straight from the horse's mouth. Hopefully within the next couple of days, the entire loop will be in good shape and will give you a few more chances to log your times. If not, well... you now have something to train for over the winter. So check it out, ride hard, and send me your times. Nobody has done this all-out yet, so you have a good chance of being the top rung on the ladder if you act soon.

Fall Moab, Fiscal Year 2010... in Fruita

2009-11-12T13:46:00.000-07:00

As is par for the course with me, my Fall Moab report is coming a bit late. And because it's late, you've probably already read 3 or 4 other Fall Moab reports, and/or seen a couple of really great videos like Fatty's and Kris'.

So all I'll say is that every once in a great while, it's worth waking up at 3:30am and driving 8 hours (round trip) within a 19 hour period, just so that you can ride your bike for a while. But only if your destination is Fruita. Or maybe Moab.

The few pictures I took turned out pretty lame, but I do have some documentation that is even more valuable than pictures. If a picture says a thousand words, then the the GPS tracks from rides like these must say ten thousand. Or maybe even a million. So when you visit Fruita, especially if it's your first visit, follow these routes and you won't be disappointed, because they give you a great single-day view of what Fruita is all about. Click on each of these pictures and then push the "play" button for additional details on the elevation profile, the route, etc.

Horsethief (if you click into this track, you'll notice that after the ride, I hopped on the freeway, road 75 miles per hour to Fruita, went through the McDonald's drivethrough, and then to the campground, all on my 32x20 singlespeed):

Lunch Loops - this is now on my new top 5. Maybe even higher. You have to like technical stuff to enjoy the small loop in the middle called "Holy Cross." By the time we hit it, some folks were getting tired of tech-stuff, so I'd recommend hitting it first, and then doing the more mellow (but still technical and super fun) outer-loop:

Kessell - Fast, fun, easy. Perfect way to end the day:

Addicts

2009-11-05T09:11:00.005-07:00

What conclusion would you arrive to if a few people you work exhibited the following characteristics:

1) They disappear every day at lunch to go to secret "meetings."

2) They also are always hungry, particularly after said lunch meetings. You could probably say that they have the "munchies."

3) When they return from their lunch meetings, they have red eyes and big silly grins on their faces.

4) You'll occasionally hear them mention something about "smoking the pipe" during lunch.

5) If 2-3 days go by and they have been unable to sneak away for their "meetings", they get all jittery, high-strung, and irritable.

Yeah, Maddox and I were talking after one of our recent lunch "meetings" (actually, I think we were IM'ing - the modern day equivalent of talking. Or at least it is until Google Wave takes over and IM'ing becomes the cassette tapes of communicating), and he made the observation that if we're not careful, rumors are going to start circulating around the office.

Helloween

2009-11-04T15:36:00.010-07:00

This post may have been a bit better timed a few days ago, but I kept forgetting to grab my not-so-universal-serial-bus cable for my camera. By the way, what is up with every company coming out with their own proprietary "USB" connections. Doesn't that sort of defeat the purpose? From now on, I'm only buying Canon cameras (even though they only last about a year before they go Kaput) and Blackberry phones (even if I won't be as cool as people with iPhones), just so that I can use one USB cable for both.

Anyway...

Rick's Helloween ride was awesome. I don't have much to add to what has already been said, except that i can't believe how fast Kyle, Kenny, Rick, Brandon, etc. took off up the dirt road while I felt like someone started a fire in my lungs.

Oh, and Rick hooked me up with this Salt Cycling jersey and a bag of CarboRocket after the race, likely because I was blasting some kick-A tunes during the ride:

I somewhat reluctantly gave the bag of CR to another deserving participant (one can never have too much CarboRocket), but there was no way I was parting with the jersey. I think my favorite two jerseys currently come out of Rick's Salt Cycling collection. So if you haven't picked one up yet, go grab one. Thanks for the hookup, Rick!

I also did some good documenting along the way:

Fish, you're going to love this one of Dan/Kenny:
Best costume, IMO, goes to Rob:
Brokeback Mountain Biking:

Kris:

Ryan road the entire ride with this costume:

Rick Madoff with yo money:

The Helloween Mastermind:

JJ:

The two stooges:

And I was rockin' out. Next time I'll bring extra batteries for the ghetto blaster:

Offsite Conference

2009-11-03T15:34:00.004-07:00

While Rick was collaborating with some of the up-and-coming companies in the valley during a lunch meeting in Corner Canyon, I called together some of the most high-powered movers and shakers within our company for an offsite presentation held at the Dry Canyon Conference Room. Maddox, Jon and I did some field research that included Betty, Crank, Area 51 and Dry.

We'll need to do some benchmarking with the Draper group sometime soon, because at the end of the day, I'm confident that if we synergize by combining forces, and if we can think outside the box, we'll see some great results.

I just love corporate speak.

Don't you just HATE it when that happens?

2009-10-26T09:20:00.000-06:00

I'd say there are quite a few motivators for staying reasonably fit. Better health, higher energy levels, more enjoyment out of life, etc. One of the often overlooked benefits of staying fit is being able to see your junk when your underwear starts to cause, um, "chaffing." Allow me to explain.

A dude named Al went on a trip to Hawaii with his wife back in 2007. This was a very big deal, so his sweet wife purchased a new pair of Hanes underwear for the trip. One thing lead to another (nope, the new briefs didn't lead to that), and he ended up in court, suing Hanes. I'll let the court document take over from here... but before I do, you can see the full case right here, in case you think I'm pulling your leg.

Plaintiff testified he believed sand that he picked up in his swim trunks while Enjoying the Hawaiian surf had irritated his penis. Over the next few days he and his wife "walked all over the place" until his condition worsened to the point that he "could hardly walk." Plaintiff testified his inability to walk was caused by defendant's defective manufacturing of his underwear which caused his "fly" to gap open . . . "and acted like a sand belt on my privates."

While most dudes would inspect their junk upon noticing soreness, poor Al never did, but for good reason:

He testified he is a "belly-man" and his "weight" prevents him from looking down and seeing his penis. He further testified he declined to use the hotel mirror to view the "injury" because that is "not something he would do." He also testified he did not ask his wife to examine his penis because he would never ask her to do such a thing."

I really can't comment on Big Al's statements in anyway without this post turning into potty humor (oops, a little too late for that). I will mention that somewhat ironically, Al won his trip to Hawaii as a reward for selling more than $20,000.00 of diet products. He's obviously quite the salesman, if you think about it.

Tragically, Al didn't prevail in his suit against Hanes. But it wasn't a total loss for him: he was allowed to keep the video of the injury on the Internet because "the court does not have jurisdiction to address this request."

So just to clarify - checking out the injury in the mirror or asking his wife to sneak a peek is "not something he would do", but posting a video of the injury on the Internet? TOTALLY OKAY!

So, as with many of my posts that are way out in left field, we are left with the question: What does all of this have to do with Shammy Time? Simple. Riding your bike a couple times a week will help keep your line of sight to your junk unobstructed, which will go a long way toward ensuring that you don't become another Hanes travesty.

Oh, and one more thing that is directly related to "shammies." My biggest fear about Rick's Helloween ride is not that I'll see Rick in a giant girl scout uniform. It's that I'll end up having to sue the manufacturer of my costume for causing unwanted "chaffing." You better believe I'll be wearing a shammy under my costume after reading this case.

5 and Under Singlespeed

2009-10-23T09:45:00.000-06:00

The little misses has been wanting to race since long before the day she learned to ride on two wheels, so Saturday was finally the big day. Here she is with her little buddy at the start line:

She's ready to tackle the barriers, but needs some work on her remounts:
Motoring through the rough stuff:

This lap took the men's Bs about 7 minutes or so. This 5 year old did it in about 6. Or maybe it was closer to 46. To her credit, she stuck with it and came through with a big time finish:
After finishing, she asked if she won. "Um, I think you won the 5 and under singlespeed Category." She was pretty stoked.

Oh, and if I need to buy a $10 number plate and $8 for my 5 year old to race, at least hand out a ribbon or something. I realize that the manpower and resources at the CX races is pretty limited, but even handing a ribbon to each kid as they finish would make their day.

Great. I'm officially one of those parents. You know, the kind who tells their kids they won even when they didn't. The kind that rewards their kids with mediocrity. And whose kids grow up, enter the real world and wonder why people suddenly expect them to earn their keep, and then suffer from low self esteem because they come to the realization that they really aren't the best at everything they do, despite what their parent/teachers told them. But I still want my kid's ribbon, dang it!

24 Hours of Moab, 2009

2009-10-14T15:45:00.001-06:00

Before we get started, allow me to introduce you to our 24 Hours of Moab team. First is our team Captain, fearless leader, and van driver, Jesse Sorenson, with his pain-cave face on:

Next is Tim Hodnett, our "fast guy", who turned a 1:06 on his first lap. Every team should have at least one fast guy. We had exactly one.

Here is our celebrity, "Press VIP", and face of the team, Adam Lisonbee. Maybe you've heard of him:

Finally, the Madder Doggers felt like they needed to bring in a really fast ringer from the outside to complete the team. Since they couldn't find one, they got me instead:

The race itself was awesome, but the team camp was really the icing on the cake. Organizational whiz Keith Payne (don't even bother, he never updates anyway), went all out this year, and I have no doubt that we had the best camp in the entire tent city. We had a full-time cook (thanks Abby), a full-time mechanic (thanks Brian... I think), charging stations, a warming tent, and even labeled plastic cups. He really thought of everything. And in case you haven't heard, Keith really sets the standard for team managers, and works non-stop to acquire sponsors and other benefits for his team.

For strategy reasons, most teams pick the fastest guy to do the run. But with the Madder Doggers, the tradition is that the rookie runs, so I was up. Lining up with 300 other racers, all chomping at the bit is an experience that everyone should try at least once. I was lined up next to Mr. Sabrosa Jon, who accurately described the crowd as one big cluster****.

****Jon was sporting his typical hotrod jumpsuit, as can be seen here.

The first lap was absolute chaos, and therefore, one of the most fun experiences I've had on a bike. I wanted to go out on the run fast enough that I'd have a descent position on the bike, but not so fast that I'd completely blow up. Considering that I must be the world's worst runner, I think I ended up up closer to the blowing-up side of things, without gaining the benefit of a great position on the bike.

My legs felt like they were filled with lead after the run, but the adrenaline and the desire not to get passed kept me going. The hardest part about that first lap is deciding whether the extra effort to leave the good line in order to pass is worth it, especially since there was usually a train of 10 riders in front of and behind you, so there was no telling how long you'd be stuck in the sand and rough rock.

At the end of the first lap, I decided to sacrifice a couple of seconds in order to take my bike off of a sweet jump that we built in front of our campsite. The reports vary, but it sounds like I got somewhere between 4-5 feet of air, and pulled off a no-footed 360 (extra points for difficulty with clipless pedals). Unfortunately, Kris' picture was taken just before I executed my aerial maneuver:

I came in from lap one just under the time I had hoped for, so I was happy. And then Adam and Tim went on to demolish my time. They were both on fire. My second lap went pretty good as well, only dropping about a minute from my first lap.

Lap 3 was my first night lap, starting at 10pm. My light setup worked awesome, and I was able to ride everything I rode during the day. I was really having a blast riding the course at night, and I felt like I was going to be within a couple minutes of my first two lap times. And then, after hiking down into nose-dive, my legs started cramping up. Both legs, calves and quads, were completely locked up. I spent a few minutes down in nose-dive gully trying to stretch them out. There were a couple of kids camping nearby who asked if I needed any help. I told them to carry me and my bike out of the gully, but they didn't oblige.

Once I finally got back on my bike, everything was fine. I blame the cramping on the running at the beginning, but Karl says I'm being a baby about it. He's probably right.

During the break between laps 3 and 4 I loaded up with electrolytes to help with the cramping. I think it worked, but it also kept me awake the rest of the night. Lap 4 was a tough one for me. We had a good lead, I hadn't slept a wink, and it was colder than I had dressed for, so I lacked motivation. My headlamp went out (yes, that one), so I was only left with the bar light. I pretty much soft pedaled the lap without incident, and figured at that point of the race, the main goal was to keep the rubber side down and not get any flats, so it was a success.

I finally got about 45-50 minutes of sleep between laps 4 and 5, which made a world of difference. Riding in the daylight was soooo nice, and I felt like a million bucks. My lap time wasn't spectacular, but the other guys were still riding strong so we were able to hold onto the lead.

I feel lucky to have been on this team this year. We had one really fast guy and 3 other guys who were consistent enough to hold off the other teams. I heard a lot of complaints about the course being lame, but I'm not sure where those complaints come from. The course was perfect for a big race, with plenty of technical climbs and descents to keep things interesting. The entire experience is crazy, from the run at the beginning to looking down on a glowing tent city at 4am in the middle of the desert. I'm already looking forward to next year.

Cactus and Snakes

2009-10-07T09:24:00.001-06:00

I wish I were reporting on a visit to Interbike from a few weeks back, or maybe Cross Vegas (can hacks like me even race in that race?), but alas, I was in Vegas for a riveting work-related conference instead, and missed Interbike altogether. And unlike last year's conference, I didn't even get invited to a strip club in attempt to land my company as a client.

I did, however, have a few experiences worth remembering. I headed out for a few rides in the Red Rock/Cottonwood area again, which is a great series of trails. Except for the fact that you can't cut corners quite the same way you can around here without risking some serious repercussions. I thought my shins were pretty well covered in callouses from riding the overgrown Timp Foothill Trails this year, but they were no match for this bad boy, which was strategically placed on the inside edge of one of the many fast corners:

The damage may look minor in this picture, but these little spines were rock-hard and were embedded almost an inch into my leg.
And to top it off, each of these needles was barbed. So for the few of you out there who actually have hair on your legs, imagine grabbing a 1 inch by 1 inch patch of leg hair, yanking it out, and then repeating about 20 times. That's basically what it felt like to remove these cactus needles. As if the pain of colliding with the cactus wasn't enough.

A bit later I hopped over this little dude who was strung-out across the trail. I think it's a bull snake, but I'm no expert.

He put on a pretty good show when I came back to check him out. Crank up the volume and listen to him hiss at me:

Dawn Patrol, Anyone?

2009-10-01T07:52:00.004-06:00

I think there's enough snow to get a few turns in somewhere up there...

or not.

I'm ready for the snow, but I'm not so sure about the 4am wakeup calls.

Resistance Training

2009-09-29T07:44:00.000-06:00

I got up yesterday planning on an early ride since it would be the only time I could get out all day. As I was rolling out of the garage, the door opened and Aubrie came running out. Alas, I could either bag the ride or load her up, so in she went:

I call this resistance training not because of the extra 60 lbs that I'm pulling, but because Aubrie has a resistance to riding back there for more than 20-30 minutes at a time. And because she knows exactly where the 3 playgrounds are between our house and Vivian park:

And by the way, can anyone explain to me what why these instructions seem to be so difficult for so many people to understand?

Anyone who has been up to the Provo River Trail knows what I mean. I promised myself that this wouldn't turn into a rant. So I'll stop now.

I realize that so far this has been one of those family posts that nobody really wants to read. Except for maybe my Mom (Like Watcher, I also recently found out that my mom reads my blog. Hi mom!). I'm pretty sure that my brother would even skip this post. So for the few of you who are still reading, I have a little story for you. It goes a little something like this:

Speaking of bike trailers, one morning, back when I lived in my previous neighborhood, I loaded up Aubrie in the trailer and pulled her over to her pre-school. In my previous neighborhood, pulling a kid to school could get you labeled as "hip" and "environmentally friendly." In my current neighborhood, such an act might get you labeled as a "hippie", and an "environmental nut-job." But I digress...

After dropping her off, I started riding home with reckless abandon since the trailer was now empty. I rounded a right-hand turn, and it just so happens that without the added weight of a kid in the trailer, it becomes pretty unstable. The trailer flipped over onto its side, scraped on the ground for a while, and then flipped back over onto its two wheels when I straightened out.

When I looked back at the trailer to make sure I could keep riding, I noticed two ladies across the street who were out on their morning walk, and were spectators to the event. They both had horrified looks on their faces, and I realized that they clearly thought that there was a kid in the trailer (who rides around pulling a trailer without any kids in it, after all?).

I decided I'd better say something to them to put their minds at ease. So I hollered back:

Looks like she slept right through it!

I guess I'm lucky that bikes don't have license plates, because if they did, I think child services may have knocked on my door later that day.

The Best Things About Late Summer

2009-09-27T09:13:00.002-06:00

Perfect riding weather, ski season approaching, and...

Them there cantaloupes gave me quite the FO. And I may be a bit biased, but I don't that you can make salsa much better than when the tomatoes and jalapenos come straight out of the garden. Mmmm...

STO

2009-09-10T10:03:00.005-06:00

Few of you who read this know that back in the day, I was quite the rock star. Shoot, I even married one of my groupies, so I must have been a rock star (although she may tell you a slightly different story - don't believe it though). Before I got more into mountain biking, I spent almost all of my free time playing the guitar. And it really started before that. I played the drums in bands through high school, and before that, I cut my teeth on the trumpet, piano, and even the accordion. Yeah, that's right; I used to play the accordion. So if you ever need to turn an otherwise boring party into a barn-burner, let me know. All it will take is 5 minutes on the accordion, and that place will be hopping.

After playing drums and guitar in a few punk rock bands through high school, I went to Utah State University and started playing guitar in a more mellow band called the "Blue Kilts." Don't ask. Anyway, we had a few member changes and finally settled in on a lineup that came together pretty well. We wrote a few original songs, and among them was one little ditty I wrote on the guitar that was pretty catchy. At least we thought so, anyway.

We messed around with it in our little practice space for a while, trying to figure out the best way to organize the song. Finally we gave this a try:

I started out by finger-picking the melody in a rather melodic sort of way, and then Steve came in on another acoustic guitar to add some harmonies. We built it up and improvised for 30 seconds or so, then we both stopped for a split second, and then we all came in together: Steve and I strumming the chords, Mike on the bass, along with Eric on the drums (we hadn't added our violin/fiddle player yet).

When it all came together, it sounded so harmonic, so loud, so in-tune, and so... perfect, that we all just stopped after 5 seconds, looked at each other with a dumbfounded look, and then started laughing. Things may have even escalated to the point that we were passing around a few high fives. It truly was an amazing and memorable moment. When we all finally calmed down, Mike uttered a line that will live on in infamy:

"Dude, I think I just had a Music Orgasm."

This was soon shortened to a "MO", the song was named MO, and lyrics were written around having a MO, culminating with a question for our loyal listeners (all 4 of them (1 more than my number of blog readers)): "where were you when you had your first MO?"

I can tell you the first MO I remember. I was probably around 12, sitting in my brother's bedroom in the basement listening to his new Master of Puppets tape for the first time with the stereo cranked to 11 (much louder than stereos that only go to 10). I think I must have started on side two, because I seem to remember listening to Orion and Damage Incorporated first. I flipped the tape over and "Battery" came on. I listened to the acoustic part at the beginning thinking "this is kind of cool." Then the song really took off with the distortion, base, drums, etc., and I'm pretty sure I fell out of my chair. That's right; my first MO was to a Metallica song. What can I say, I'm a product of my environment. Hey, it beats saying that my first MO was to Simon and Garfunkel.

Anyway, the usage of "MO" was quickly expanded. For example, FO (food) was soon added to our vernacular, along with many other variations. (By the way, if you want to have a total FO, go to Tiburon in Sandy and order either the Elk or the Filet. FO in every bite).

So how does all of this relate to "Shammy Time", you might be wondering? I'll tell you how. I was out on a ride the other day and had an experience that made me expand the usage of "MO" yet again:

STO (single track).

All it took was a short stretch of single track near the end of the Jacob's Ladder descent. Fast, smooth, with just enough slight twists and rollers to make you feel weightless, if only for a split second. I had butterflies in my stomach, a huge grin on my face, and the hair on my neck and arms started to stand up. All signs that I was having a STO.

I had yet another STO on Saturday. I had just ridden/raced 70+ miles of incredible Park City singletrack. I was a bit delusional, which only heightened the STO experience. I peeled off of the mid-mountain trail and onto Rob's to descend into the Canyons Resort. Rob's was simply perfect. A 1 mile stretch of 1 foot wide, tacky, fast, rolling, delectable singletrack. As I coasted down, I reflected on what I had just accomplished that day, and knew I was finally about to step off of my bike and collapse into the soft grass at the Canyons Resort in a state of total exhaustion. And I had a total STO, right there on Ray's...

...and then 5 minutes later I realized I still had one more climb to go. That last piece of gratuitous torture provided by the PCP2P race organizers.

So what are some of your most memorable STOs?

And do you have any MOs that are worth mentioning? (and don't be embarrassed to admit that it came to a Simon & G song).

PCP2P vid

2009-09-09T15:59:00.002-06:00

Thanks to Kris for forwarding:

If you're wondering why my helmet is always crooked, it's because I have a crooked head. If you don't believe me, you can feel for yourself.

Park City Point 2 Point

2009-09-07T16:14:00.009-06:00

I've read a bunch of race reports on the PCP2P and they all have a pretty similar storyline:

Fun time racing in a paceline around Round Valley
The rain and beautiful rainbow on Prospector
Feeling good through the first aid stations
Monumental bonk, usually somewhere near Shadow Lake
Recovery on Mid Mountain
One of the best and most difficult races around

That pretty much sums up my race as well. I went into the race hoping to finish in less than 9 hours, but honestly wouldn't have been surprised if it had been anywhere between 8 and 11. Being the first year, finishing times were an unknown, but there were a lot of people predicting Leadville-like finishing times.

The entire course was fantastic, and included just about every variety of singletrack you could imagine, from rolling desert, to smooth and fast, to power climbs, to technical climbs, to highly technical, twisty, rooty, rocky descents. It really had everything. Except for roads. Over the course of 76.88 miles (according to the Garmin), I would be surprised if there were more than 3 total miles of road (both dirt and pavement). Everything was amazing, buff singletrack.

Hardly anything came easy at the PCP2P. There were no extended flat sections where you could put your head down and hammer. Whether you were climbing or descending, it was balls-to-the-wall the entire time. The descent down TG2 and Johns trail were literally as hard as any of the climbing. But I'm glad that everyone one of those trails were included, as they all added to the remarkable race.In general, I think that my race went as good, if not better, than I could have expected. I forced myself to alternate between gels and blocks every 45 minutes, even though my stomach never felt hungry. I think this paid off in the end, because the last 15 miles went incredibly well. I drank 8 bottles of 3 different CarboRocket flavors, and they all tasted delicious and were easy on the stomach. I did have a meltdown from miles 45-60, where I just crawled around Shadow Lake and up Spiro, but I think that was due more to my lack of long rides rather than anything I did during the race.

The descents in this race were just amazing, and I felt like I just flew down them, including the ripping fast Keystone descent (riding it 13 times in last year's Perfect 10 helped), a 2500 foot riot from Shadow lake to PCMR, and the two descents into the Canyons. The Superfly beat me up a little, but it ran flawlessly (thanks Racer), and I think was a perfect bike for this race.

In the end, I rolled across the line in 8:43, which put me at 31st overall (including some duo teams) and 6th in my class. Full results here.

Lyna saw my dirty face at the finish line and couldn't help but snap a pic:

If any of you Leadvillites are wondering how the PCP2P compares, I found the comprisons to be pretty interesting. Most people that did both races finished the PCP2P a bit faster than Leadville. For instance, Alex Grant (the winner of the PCP2P) finished the P2P about 5 minutes faster his Leadville finish, yet thought that the P2P was more difficult due to the technical terrain, but others thought the opposite due to Leadville's higher elevation. Either way, they are both obviously very challenging races.

Finally, a huge thanks to the race organizers and volunteers. Being the first year, there was a lot of apprehension about the organization, but everything went perfectly. Adam, Jesse and I had coolers at each of the aid stations, but we could have easily gotten by with the neutral support. Volunteers seemed to be at nearly every major turn in the race, and the organizers must have emptied 20 cans of spray paint marking the course.

Hope to see you at next year's PCP2P!

Confidence Boost

2009-09-03T23:21:00.006-06:00

Before big races like the Park City Point to Point, the nerves set in and self doubt starts to infiltrate my thoughts. Especially when I consider that I can count the number of 4+ hour days I've spent on the bike this year on one hand, and the number of 6+ hour days on 1 finger (RAWROD).

Then I stopped in at Racer's yesterday afternoon with my bike in tow. Most other shops would have told me to come back in a few days. Instead, Racer dropped what he was doing and spent a half hour or more fine-tuning my bike. I'm not sure what it is, but there is something about Racer working his magic on a bike that builds confidence. I had an easy 40 minute spin on the way into work today and my bike was running flawlessly again. I know it's just a well-running bike, but it spills over to my outlook on the rest of the race as well. Now I'm ready to go. And I think I have it in me to go fast.

Thanks again, Racer.

The Humanity!!!!

2009-09-02T09:52:00.002-06:00

I was in the middle of writing this post, when I saw this, and I thought Dug beat me to it. But since he was referring to something slightly different (and even more ridiculous), I figured I'd go ahead and post this anyway...

As some of you know, the Farmington community is up in arms over this "leftist, liberal political video" being shown to school kids without their parents permission:

I can see why people wouldn't want their kids to hear this "leftist, liberal" video. Because I'd hate for my kids to participate in liberal things like:

1) Ending hunger
2) Loving more
3) Volunteering
4) Being a great parent (I'm pretty sure this was a subliminal leftist message to convince elementary school boys to get their girlfriends pregnant. Damn liberals!)
5) Participating in service projects
6) Recycling (this one is big - I'm slightly worried that I'll get car-bombed each time I take my recycling can out to the curb in my slightly conservative neighborhood)

The humanity!

So tell me. I'm pretty sure that there is at least someone out there who reads this blog who can't possibly believe that anyone would show this to innocent children. What exactly are you afraid of? Are you afraid that your kid will come home and tell you that he wants to support the president? If so, would you have the same fear if a republican were in office? After reading about the public outcry over this, I thought back to when I was in elementary school, and I can vividly remember learning about President Reagan, and how great he was, how we should be patriotic by supporting the president, and watching some of his speahes. I mean, he was the president of our country, so why not? I don't remember any complaints back then. Seems like a double standard to me. If you are really that adamant that your kid hate Obama, I'm sure you have done a fine job instilling this hate by simply talking to your kids about it.

Are you afraid your kids will come home and ask "what is stem cell research?" Were you hoping that they'd never find out about it? I think you should try the same sheltering technique with sex. Let me know how that works out for you.

My 4 year old already calls it "a duece" (actually she calls it "number 3" now, which is another story), so I'm not too worried about that one either.

The only problem I have with this video is that nobody pledged to ride bikes more. It funny how everyone gets all excited about things that are easy to do, but really don't make much of a difference, like not using plastic bottles and bags (especially if you're recycling them after using them), but nobody is willing to do something that takes some effort and could make a big difference, like riding a bike instead of driving.

I'll admit that the whole "being a servant to my president" at the end is a bit weird, and I can even see how some may take it that wrong way, but I what I can't understand is why it's so important to limit my kid's exposure to democrats who support the president. If I did that, my kids wouldn't see their mom or their grandparents very much.

I guess I feel a bit like Dug today. But I have to remind myself that there are a lot of good people in this state (and even in Utah County) too. Really, there are a lot of them. Even some of the paranoid right-wing (and left-wing) nutjobs that I know.

Midnight Adventures, Part II

2009-08-30T22:20:00.002-06:00

When we left off, our hero had run out of lights with 4+ miles of trail in front of him and no moonlight. Will this be the end of our hero? Let's find out...

I was in disbelief that both of my lights had gone out. This couldn't be happening. My lights generally last longer than this (I was about 1:20 into the ride at that point), and I had been pretty good about turning off one of the lights when I didn't need it up until that point.

But if there is one thing I'm pretty good at, it is this: I seldom panic. I figured that the worst that could happen is that I spend the night up on Cottonwood Creek. Yeah, Wesla would be freaking out in the morning (if she wasn't already - it was already almost midnight), but I had water and warm clothes (vest, arm, and knee warmers) and it wasn't too cold. Okay, so the worst that could really happen is that I get eaten by a mountain lion, but I tried not to dwell on that for too long.

After my lights went out and I slowed to a stop, a small miracle happened. The auto-pause feature on my GPS was triggered, and the backlight came on to let me know about it. Suddenly, I had light again. I also realized that I had my cellphone in my bag. So I took my cellphone in one hand and the GPS in the other and triggered their backlights to light up the trail. It wasn't much, but I could barely make out the edges of the trail.

I was in business again. I figured I had three objectives: 1) don't get seriously injured; 2) don't fall into the creek; and 3) don't lose the trail. I thanked my lucky stars that I charged the GPS the day before, threw on my warmer clothes, and started slowly feeling my way down the trail.

It's quite amazing what riding thousands of miles on dirt trails will do for you. It really gives you a sixth sense for following trails. Between hearing the creek to my left and barely seeing the trail in front of me, I was able to naviguess my way down the trail pretty well. Walking my bike also helped, as it served both as a walking stick and a blind man's cane. Anytime a drop off or a big rock was coming up, my front tire would hit it first and I would know what to expect.

I've occasionally been guilty of complaining about sharing trails with horses. They leave post holes in wet trails, they spook easily, and worst of all, they leave shit all over the trails. But from now on, I'll always have an appreciation for horse manure on the trails. It turns out that horse poop really stands out against a dirt backdrop. Almost every time I thought I was losing sight of the trails, I'd see a piece of horse crap on the ground, and I knew I was still heading in the right direction.

I was slowly making my way down the trail and was feeling pretty good about my chances of making it to the car sometime before morning. Suddenly, I heard something move to my right. It was quiet enough that I didn't know if it was the size of a rabbit or the size of an elephant. Then I heard it again, only louder. And then I could make out a big black silhouette about 10 meters away. After reading Watcher's post about a bear encounter the day before, I instinctively thought I was looking at a bear.

And then I heard something else move to my left. Another one. I decided it wasn't a bear, but instead I was standing between a mama moose and her calf, being that I am somewhat of a moose magnet (gives me an idea for a future post). I wanted the bear back.

MOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! ... rumble rumble rumble. I almost laughed out loud when I realized I was standing in the middle of a cow herd. However, the fact that I had just started a cow stampede with no light wasn't very funny. Fortunately the cows avoided me and I was able to keep on going.

After over 2 hours of inching along by my GPS backlight (my phone backlight turned out to be pretty useless, and I wanted to save the phone's battery as a last resort in case the GPS died) I was finally almost back to the car. I remembered from my previous ride on the Cottonwood Creek trail that there would be at least one stream crossing near the bottom, and I was pretty excited when I thought I found it. I crossed the stream without getting wet, and soon found another section of the stream to cross (I figured that the stream had split and that I walked across an island of sorts).

I kept walking, elated to be so near the trailhead. After going over a few hills, I decided I'd better verify that I was still going in the right direction, so I pulled up the map on my GPS. My jaw dropped as I realized that for the past 1/3 mile or so I'd double backed on myself. I was so disoriented in the darkness that the I didn't realize that the second stream crossing was actually the same as the first stream, and that I'd completely turned myself around. I cussed at myself and started heading back in the right direction. I turns out that a GPS can be used for more than just lighting up a trail. I'm telling you that if not for that GPS, I would have spent the night up there.

From there, I successfully followed the trail almost all the way back to parking lot. In my haste, I somehow lost the trail just before it intersects with the main river and I couldn't find the bridge to cross it. As I bush-whacked up and down the river in search of the bridge, I saw a light on the other side of the river. I yelled, and someone yelled back.

"Aaron, is that you!?"

Brandon had noticed my car in the parking lot as he was pulling out to leave. He waited around for me and when I never showed up, he ended up riding up past the hot pots to look for me and then paced back and forth for over 3 hours trying to figure out what to do. That's a good friend right there. Thanks, Brandon.

Other than a few scratches and a pretty big bruise from hitting my right calf on my pedal about 379 times, I made it down unscathed. It was a long 3 hour walk, but it certainly could have ended worse.

Now my main concern was about Wesla. She can be a light sleeper, and if she noticed I wasn't back, she would be freaking out. We drove down the canyon and eventually got back into cellphone range. I called my messages and was never so glad to hear "you have no new messages."

By the time I was home, had eaten (I was starving by then) and climbed into bed (I took a page out of Rick's book and slept stinky style), it was past 3:30 am. When I woke up in the morning and went downstairs, Wesla says to me, "Well you were out a little later than I expected. I woke up at around midnight and you still weren't home. How did the ride go?"

To which I answered, "um... it was pretty good."

I think I may finally find out if Wesla actually reads this thing.

Midnight Adventures

2009-08-28T10:52:00.005-06:00

No, this is not a review of some sleazy video that you'd find advertised on your hotel TV (although Googling the title of this post is not recommended). It is about a night ride. More particularly, it is about a night ride that didn't quite go according to plan.

As some of you who read this blog may know, there was a night ride being planned up Diamond Fork Canyon last night. The initial response from the riding crew was positive, but slowly, almost everyone dropped off for one reason or another. When I was packing my stuff, I thought we may actually still get 4-5 guys, but by the time I was driving down to Diamond Fork, it had dwindled to just Brandon, me, and maybe one other dude.

Everything conspired against me that day to make me late for the ride, not the least of which was getting lost trying to find the trailhead. By the time I finally pulled into the parking lot, it was already around 9:47pm. As I found out later (much later), Brandon had given up on me and left on the ride at around 9:45. (cue ominous music now (or is it "queue"? I'm pretty sure it's cue)).

Since we were out of cell phone range, I needed to make a choice. I initially wanted to bag the ride, but I felt really bad about ditching Brandon and making him ride around by himself at night. I knew the route he was planning on, so I figured I could follow him, but by that time it was around 10pm and I knew I'd never catch him since I figured he had at least a 20-30 minute head start on me.

Ultimately, I decided I'd just ride the loop backwards. I'd probably run into him close to the top of the 5th water trail, then I'd just turn around and ride back with him.

Looking back, this decision was stupid for a plethora of reasons:

1) I was by myself - this reason isn't dumb by itself (I've ridden alone at night plenty of times), but it is pretty dumb when combined with the rest of the reasons.

2) I was only vaguely familiar with the loop. I rode it once last year. In full daylight. In reverse.

3) The loop doesn't have a single bailout point.

4) I was starting pretty late - 10pm.

5) I could go on, but I'd ruin the rest of the story...

So I started up 5th water and was making good time. The only thing that slowed me down was the really drunk guy coming down from the hot pots that must have thought I was an alien UFO coming down to abduct him. He actually seemed pretty excited about finally being taken up by the mothership. I finally managed to nudge him out of the way so I could get by.

I rode by the hot pots that were boiling with BYU students. Enough of them that they decided to remain fully clothed in fear that they'd be hearing from the honor code department if they chose otherwise. I made it up to the Ray's Valley Road in pretty good time and still hadn't run into Brandon. I figured that the trail he took up Cottonwood Creek was probably a bit longer than 5th Water, and plus he hadn't done the 4-5 miles of pavement yet, so there was still a good chance I'd run into him if I kept going.

I started up the road, which was a bit climbier than I remembered. I was lucky to have my GPS to give me an idea of when I needed to turn right onto Cottonwood Creek (actually 1st water by the time it hits the pavement). By the time I was half-way up the road and still hadn't seen any sign of Brandon, I knew that he must have done Cottonwood Creek as an out-and-back and that I wouldn't see him that night.

I figured I was past the point of no return though, so I kept riding. About 3/4 of the way up the pavement, the moon set behind the mountains, so it was pitch black whenever I'd turn off my lights. Even with my lights on, it seemed pretty dark, but I figured that the pavement was washing out my lights. The entire 20-30 minutes or so that I was on Ray's Valley Road, I didn't see a single car. I started to feel a bit lonely.

Luckily, even in the dark I was able to find the turn-off to take me down to Cottonwood Creek. Unluckily, as soon as I turned onto the dirt road, I knew without any doubt: My lights were going out. Not just one of them, but both of them. I had been cycling them on and off to make sure that this didn't happen, but for whatever reason, it was happening to both of them.

Decision time again. Do I turn around and go back to the paved road in hopes that a car would eventually drive by? Based on the previous half hour, I knew that the likelihood of seeing anyone was slim, and that I'd probably just be delaying the inevitable and wasting what little light I had by turning around.

So I forged ahead, flipping between my helmet and bar lights to make it down the dirt road. By the time I intersected the Cottonwood Creek trail, it was too dark to ride. I got off and started walking with the bike, knowing that there was no way my lights would last all the way back to the trailhead. And sure enough, within 1/4 mile, I was completely out of lights. I was standing in pitch black nothingness with 4+ miles of trail in front of me.

Man, this post is getting too long. Come back later to see if I survived, or if I wrote this from my cellphone up on Cottonwood Creek just before getting eaten by a cougar.

Edit: The story continues - Midnight Adventures, Part II

AMC "Pre-ride"

2009-08-19T23:54:00.010-06:00

I had the perfect plan. Head down to the Cedar Breaks area (Duck Creek, to be more precise) with the family (including my parents, my siblings, and their spouses and kids), spend 4 days getting acclimated to the altitude and pre-riding parts of the AMC course, and then head back 4 days later to race the AMC, which was supposed to be finishing today.

Of course, the AMC has been canceled since I made these plans. It would have been nice of them to cancel it before I planned my season (and my family vacation) around it. BTW, don't tell the rest of my family that I planned their vacation around my race (which never even happened).

The canceling of the AMC didn't stop me from having a good time down at Duck Creek with the family though. And since we were staying in a cabin that was a few miles away from the start of the Virgin Rim trail (which would have been Stage 1 of the AMC), I couldn't help but partake in some Virgin Rim goodness:

My brothers, my pops and I also hit the Navajo Lake loop (half of which was also supposed to be in the AMC):

You can tell that Finley (in the pack) is just fascinated by Bryce Canyon:

I made Wesla pull her weight as well:

And the scenery didn't suck:
Since I wasn't busy racing the AMC prologue on Thursday, it gave me a good excuse to head up to the Nebo loop to watch the Tour of Utah. In case you hadn't heard, there were reports of a bearded lady in the Payson Canyon:

The race leader was inspired. Or maybe just riding in fear.
At the back of the pack, there was a lot of extra long hand-ups going on:
Getting ready to show the riders his/her version of being a true Scotsman:

Belated Canyons Race Report

2009-08-11T11:07:00.006-06:00

Things have been a bit hectic around here, but better late than never. Fortunately, things got crazy the week before the Canyons race, which made for a nice forced taper before the race.

I pre-rode the course a couple of weeks before and predicted that we'd see some crashes. The descent is high-speed with a lot of blind hazards and unpredictable off-camber turns. But surely those crashes would all come from the other people. Riiiiight....

The imaginary gun went off and I immediately loved this race. With the long dirt road climb before the single track, most of the group seemed happy with a nice mellow pace to start. It was a nice change from the "sprint as fast as you can before the singletrack" start that is typical in my class.

The pace eventually picked up before we filed into the singletrack. I was feeling good at the time and a few people in front were slowing down. From what I can remember, everyone was cool about passing at the Canyons race. It was very refreshing. If anything, I was the person holding people back, but I did offer multiple times to let people by.

I made a few passes before the descent started. Well, with the course, you think that the descent is starting, but before you know it, you're climbing again:

The second lap started and I was feeling pretty good. I felt like I was climbing okay, but everyone seemed to be flying today. I had a few guys on my tail that I just couldn't seem to shake. I finally made it to the top, and then quickly remembered, that the top is really more of a false flat that doesn't let you relax much.

The descent was fast and fun:

On the last lap, I was still feeling okay, but had no idea of my positioning. I made a few passes on the climb and was making desent time until that last straight away that just seems to go on forever. I think that the climb started to get in my head a bit. At the end, it all seems to look the same. I convinced myself a few times that I was at the top, which never came. Finally, I accepted that I had a while to go, and 2 guys in my class jumped around me just before the top finally arrived.

I closed the gap on the false flat and on the beginning of the downhill. I finally caught back on during the mid-descent climb and when the downhill started again, the guy in front was cool enough to let me pass without asking. I went by and could see the next guy up ahead. I was pushing as fast as I could and finally was about to make contact just as one of the off-camber right-hand turns snuck up on me. Before I knew it I was flying over my bars and into the bushes. It looks like my pre-race prediction came true in an ironic and unwelcome way.

All of my limbs were attached, so I started to climb back out as the guy I had just passed leapfrogged me. I followed him down the rest of the way, and he was smart not to let me pass again. Between the sketchy switchbacks at the end and the lapper traffic, I had no chance to contest the sprint and finished in 7th, 30 seconds out of another visit to the tweety chair.

All in all, it was a great way to end another great i-cup season.

Race details

Thanks to Scott at primelite photo for the great pictures! Search by your race number and you're likely to find some good pictures of you.

Be Good Like Susan

2009-08-10T14:26:00.006-06:00

As Adam, Brandon and I sat at the back of the cultural hall for Susan's funeral, we tried to pick out some of our cycling friends from the congregation. A few times, we went back and forth 2 or 3 times trying to decide if we had identified our bald-headed friends correctly. Adam mentioned that it would be a lot easier if everyone was wearing a cycling kit or a ski suit.

Seeing so many cycling friends in suits and ties and wiping tears from their eyes was a sobering sight. It was good to see that the bonds of riding and skiing go far beyond the singletrack and powder days.

Elden talked about how Susan managed to turn cancer into a good thing by raising over $600,000 for cancer research. That is certainly impressive and is easy to quantify. What is harder to quantify, but every bit as impressive, is the positive influence she had on others. By following Susan's example, I'll renew my efforts to be a good spouse, a good parent, a good son to my mom who has cancer, a good friend, a good neighbor, and in the words of Susan's sister-in-law, "just plain good." I know I'm not the only one who drove away from the chapel today with a resolve to be good (and fight) like Susan.

Tibble Fork Picture Share

2009-07-30T17:51:00.004-06:00

No time to write, but here are a few pics from yesterday morning's Tibble+Joy+Mud=Good ride:

Mark on the climb:

Elden in Tibble Meadow

Rick descending Tibble:

And although not from the Tibble ride, if you are night-riding in Glenwild, watch out for these bad boys:

Considering that we had at least 3-4 porcupine sightings and almost every one of us crashed at least once, it's amazing one of us didn't have a rather uncomfortable landing, followed by the removal of a hundred or so sharp quills.

Tetons Race and Ride

2009-07-29T10:08:00.007-06:00

Taming the Tetons is a race that was not initially on the heavily negotiated race schedule. However, the week before the race, the misses decided to pack up the kids and head to Oregon to see their cousins, so I was living the bachelor life. And I took full advantage. Not only did I go on my peep-show ride, but I was able to hit the Crest for the first time this year, and even got double the pleasure (double the fun) one evening by pre-riding the Canyons race course and then hitting a Glenwild night ride.

I was hoping to have some legs left over for the Tetons race, and I suppose I felt okay, but didn't have the upper end power for the climbs. There were only 10 starters this week, and I finished in 4th. I went back and forth with 3rd place for a while - he'd pull ahead on the climbs, and I'd pull back time or pass him on the descents - but he eventually landed the knock-out punch on the 3rd lap. I certainly can't complain about another visit to the Tweety Chair though.

(Thanks to Kris for the photo)

I drove up to Jackson with the Holleys, so I was their third wheel (or wheels five and six, to be more specific) for the weekend. On Sunday, the Holleys, Keith, Tim, Dave Dean and I headed out for what ended up being an amazing ride in the mountains to the South of Jackson. I'd ridden up there once before a few years back, but Kris hooked me up with a map so that we could find our way around.

Everyone but the Holleys and I called it a day after 25 miles (what sort of pansy only wants to do 25 miles the day after a race?), so I joined the Holleys for another 15 miles of "Leadville Training" (hopefully I can put the training to another good use). If you want to become a better descender, just try and follow Chris around for 5 hours. During the few times you can keep up, you'll pick up a thing or two about maintaining flow and momentum.

Unfortunately I didn't take a single picture during the ride, but I can tell you that it would be tough to beat that ride in any way, shape or form (right KC?).

Here's a snapshot of the route:

If you want more detail because you were on the ride (or you're a tech geek or just really bored), check the ride out here. Click on the "Player" tab, and it will take you through the map and elevation profile of the entire ride. I forgot to start recording until 4-5 miles into the ride, but you'll get the gist.

Un-American

2009-07-23T20:40:00.005-06:00

(I thought this posted last week before I left for the Tetons. Since it didn't, I've revised it and am posting it now)

I was recently accused of being Un-American by a friend from work. He caught me committing the ultimate act of anti-patriotism. I had practically committed treason. I had openly rooted for Alberto Contador.

He simply could not fathom how I could express any support for Contador when he was the arch-rival of Lance Armstrong. It was akin to supporting Communism in the 80's.

I went on to explain why I thought most of the complaints against Contador were unfair. (I was going to say that the Contador haters were full of crap, but I know that Mark is very sensitive and I didn't want to hurt his feelings. Ha).

The complaints against Contador started in earnest after his first attack on Arcalis. "Johan told him not to attack", people were saying. Well, if I were Alberto, I don't know that I'd be listening to Johan either, because he knew as well as I did who Johan's main pony was. The longer he was behind Lance, the longer he was second fiddle on the team.

"The attack on Arcalis was bad tactically. The climb was too short and windy to make up any real time", was the critique provided by the infinitely wise viewing public. Well, look who's laughing now. I'd say it was one of the best cards he played this tour. Not only did he gain time on everyone else, but he put himself on equal footing with his main rival going forward.

The Contador haters really came out when he "attacked Kloden" on stage 17. "What a horrible teammate!" What, you think he should be concerned with his team? The team that practically threw him under the team bus as soon as Lance happened to be in a split that gained him 41 seconds on the other GC'ers? The team that wouldn't give him a 100% commitment despite the fact that he'd won three of the past 5 grand tours (now 4 of the past 6) and is clearly the best stage racer in the world? Yeah, when given the choice between being a "good teammate" and winning the tour, I think he made quite a few good decisions during the tour.

Alberto's only mistake on stage 17 was that he slowed down after the attack. He hoped that Kloden would have stayed with the Schleks, but when he saw that Kloden got dropped he slowed down in hopes that Kloden would catch back on. He should have done what Lance would have done back in the day - not given a second thought to what happened to his teammate and gone on to win the stage. Contador was the clear team leader at that point and I don't think he should be faulted for wanting to win the stage. No gifts, right?

The other thing that cracks me up about the stage 17 fallout is that, as with almost every tour, people were complaining about the tour being boring because "none of the GC contenders are attacking." Contador finally tries something exciting and he's labeled reckless and a bad teammate. Mark recently wrote a funny article about how how none of the GC contenders were willing to throw down any attacks, as well as how all of the racers were whining throughout the tour. He forgot to include the fans amongst the whiners - they whined when racers didn't attack, and whined even more when someone (Contador) finally did.

And then, of course, there are the "Contadopers." Of course he's a doper. He won the Tour didn't he? Case closed. No more testing is needed. Yeah, maybe "they" will eventually prove that he's a doper. And maybe they won't, and he'll go on to win 5 more tours.

It seems to me that most of the Contador haters hate him because he had the nerve to actually want to win the tour, and then was un-American enough to go and do it.

Jungle Love

2009-07-21T13:41:00.008-06:00

What would you do in this "hypothetical" situation:

You are 'just riding along' on one of your favorite trails (like Timpooneke, for example), enjoying the cool air and prestine singletrack. You come across a couple of WalMart bikes stashed along side the trail, and you start to wonder why two bikes would be sitting here without their owners nearby, since there are no other trailheads or landmarks around. In the corner of your eye, you see something moving around amongst the aspen and pine trees. As you ride by, you take a closer look. You are so shocked by what you see that it takes your brain a second or two to register what you are looking at:

Two people, both well qualified for the "Clydesdale division", one firmly grasping a poor and innocent aspen tree, going at it.

Yeah, that's right. IT.

I'm pretty sure that if Adam and I found ourselves in that "hypothetical" situation, Adam would yell "classy", and the only thing I could think up would be to yell at Adam to grab his camera (loud enough for the Clydesdales to hear). Then we would keep riding, because we'd be too sick to our stomachs, not to mention shocked, to think of doing anything else.

And then we'd spend the rest of the ride talking about what we should have done.

Oh, and while talking about how exactly a douchebag guy approaches his skanky girlfriend about performing such an act, Adam would yell in his loud and boisterous voice "Hey babe, I'm getting tired of riding these bikes. Wanna pull over and DO IT?", just as another rider (one of the only other riders we'd see all evening) would round the corner from the opposite direction. And then I'd try and explain (all too late) that Adam's comment was not directed toward me, but was instead a hypothetical conversation between said douchebag and said skank.

So again I ask. What would you do in this "hypothetical" situation? Because lets face it, anyone willing to perform such an act in a publicly visible area deserves to be mocked, ridiculed, and/or injured, right?

Solitude - ICUP State Championship

2009-07-18T23:44:00.008-06:00

As expected, that was a really hard race. I didn't want to blow up, so I tried to go out easy. I started in about 15th place, and I still felt like I pushed a bit too hard up that new climb. The first lap of a race is the only time where it can seem harder to go slow than to go fast. That all changes after about 15 minutes though, and people started popping left and right. I kept a pretty steady pace throughout the day and slowly picked off riders.

On the top of the 3rd lap, I started feeling some potential cramping coming on. I started using granny LaBerta quite a bit more from there on out. What was really surprising is that the cramping actually came on even harder during the 3rd lap descent. Each time I straightened my left leg to make a sharp right-hand turn, my left quad would start to seize up. I eased up on the the DH a bit, started drinking a bunch more CarboRocket (Thanks Kellie for the extra handup!) and ended up fine on the 4th lap.

Perhaps I over-estimated, but I thought we started with around 20-25 racers - at least 2 solid rows. I finished and was hoping to be top 10, so I was surprised to see I finished in 4th. I think more people drop out of this race than any other, which padded my result a bit. I think that less than 15 finished.

It was nice to feel good for a change. And when I say "good", I mean that I suffered like a dog, but I at least felt like I could push for most of the 3.5 laps. I've felt like I've been in a bit of a slump over the past couple months, but finally started feeling good last week. The conditions worked in my favor as well. I don't necessarily enjoy riding in the heat, but i always seem to do better when it's hot. My legs just never seem to get the wake up call when it's chilly like at Deer Valley.

Thanks to Jim W (who in addition to being a strong rider is also a really strong CX ski racer) for documenting one of my rare visits to the tweety chair:

Splits: Lap 1: 39:30 (including initial shakeout)
Lap 2: 38:00
Lap 3: 39:00
Lap 4 (lower loop): 25:30

What does the Solitude race course need?

2009-07-17T13:19:00.003-06:00

If you said "more climbing", then you are right, or at least Ed thinks so. ("more cowbell" would also have been an acceptable answer).

The new singletrack section starts out with a nice little twisty descent before starting the climb up to the top. As with any descent, it does not come without a cost. The new section does cut out some of the really steep nasty switchbacks that were part of the old race course, so the climb really doesn't feel much longer.

I prerode the course on Wednesday with Adam, Rick, and another Aaron. The pre-ride of this course is always one of my favorite rides of the season. Beautiful singletrack, technical descent, good company, etc. That last dirt road climb never feels too hard. The technical steep section after the dirt road is always cleanable. The descent is a blast.

And then I race it and everything changes. Somehow that dirt road gets 5% steeper. That technical steep section becomes rockier and nearly impossible to clean. The descent gets looser and more demanding.

Last year, I saw this course bring one of the fastest guys I ride with nearly to his knees. I don't know that I fared much better, but at least I had a granny gear to fall back on (thanks for being there for me, LaBerta). I can't wait to see how things play out in the morning.

Do Baggies Make it Better?

2009-07-16T11:21:00.003-06:00

I mentioned that I got my clock cleaned a couple times last week. What I didn't mention is that one of the clock cleanings was a first for me. My first DFL. I probably deserved a DFL or two in the past due to mechanicals or an otherwise bad race, but there was always at least one person a little suckier than me. Not on Wednesday. I was the suckiest. At least in the otherwise non-sucky "Expert A" class anyway.

I sorta knew this was coming by looking down the list of "Expert A" racers. So as I was getting dressed for the race, I made a conscious decision: if I am going down, I'm going down in style. So I grabbed my baggy shorts off of the shelf.

I think you had to look back in the staging area past all of the Expert As, all of the Expert Bs and at least to the Sports, if not the Beginners to see another pair of baggies last Wednesday. So here's my question: Does racing in baggies against all of the fast lycra-clad "Expert A" racers make my DFL any more respectable?

If you saw how good I looked on Wednesday, I think you'd agree that it does.

Cross Training

2009-07-15T13:45:00.004-06:00

After getting my clock cleaned not once but twice last week, I knew I needed to do some serious training to get back into top form. So I decided to do the most intense training I know of. I took the kids camping. By myself.

If you have never taken a 2 and 4 year old camping by yourself, you don't know what intense training feels like. It's non-stop 100 miles per hour. 400+ watts all the time. Especially if you go all out with the dutch oven meals and everything:

Aubrie got a brand new fishing pole and she was excited to bust it out, and bust it out she did. She wasn't so excited about the prospect of kissing her first fish of the day though:

She had a respectable haul for dinner:

A few days earlier, I had some additional high-intensity training as well:

*Note that I am not wearing a white t-shirt or bike shorts under my life preserver/swimming trunks. That is the result of a hard-earned cyling tan (aka, the mark of the beast).

The family headed up for some waterskiing with some old friends. I forgot that with these guys, I should never jokingly suggest that we try something unless I really plan on trying it. I foolishly suggested to them that what the trip really needed was the waterskiing 3-man pyramid. Of course, that meant we really had to go for it. Here we are during the preparation:

The execution was a little... less than stellar:

After failing on no fewer than 15 attempts, we decided to place the blame on inadequate equipment. It couldn't have anything to do with operator error. It especially had nothing to do with the fact that this was my third time ever waterskiing.

With all of this high-intensity training, I am primed for Solitude this weekend, so watch yourselves!

Tour Talk

2009-07-08T16:00:00.000-06:00

I was about to post the same thing that Mark recently posted (minus the part about his big crit win), but since he already said it all, I've deleted my previous comments and started over. Here are a few quotes from Lance that make it tough for me to pull for him this year:

1) "The (2008) Tour was a bit of a joke this year. I’ve got nothing against Sastre or Christian Vande Velde. Christian’s a nice guy, but finishing fifth in the Tour de France? Come on." What kind of punk says something like that? I don't care if you're now apologizing. You're still a punk for saying something so cocky and, well, just plain mean in the first place.

2) "Here’s a confession: I expected it to be easier." I know you won 7 tours, but seriously!? You thought that beating all of these guys in their prime would be easy? Your ego is even bigger than I thought.

3) "I am not ok with that theory saying there can be only one team leader." Ha! I'd love to hear what Lance would have said if Hincapie would have made this comment back in '99-'05 (okay, he probably would have laughed because Hincapie had no chance, but maybe if Floyd or Levi or Vande Velde would have said it).

4) "One way or the other, it's not going to go according to somebody's plans. When that moment comes, there's going to be some emotions. Some hurt feelings. It's not going to be easy." For some reason I get the impression that when lance says "somebody", he means Contador.

Despite this, I too am torn. I can't help but get excited about Lance nearly being in yellow again. Can he really pull off the impossible? I want him to at least keep it close just to make things interesting. Like I mentioned in Mark's comments, if Contador drops everyone on Friday, the tour is basically over. But if Contador does put 2 minutes into Lance on Friday, will Lance start getting bottles for him? If Contador attacks, does Lance chase him down (or vice versa) and risk bringing the other GC contenders with him? And if either Lance or Contador can't hang, will Levi or Kloden put in a chase? If nothing else, Lance has made this Tour interesting.

I do have several favorites this year, and Sastre is one of them. In addition to forgiving Lance for dissing him after last year's win, I loved what he said about the situation back when it happened:

"It’s his point of view, his words, his life. I’m not interested in anything about that. I think he’s a great champion, he won seven Tours, the world championship, he’s a great rider. But behind every rider must be a person, and in that respect, maybe he needs to learn something more."

(SPOILER ALERT FOR TODAY'S STAGE)

You also gotta love the joy on Voeckler's face:

Back in his yellow jersey days, I have to admit that I sort of wished that Voeckler would just go away, but today I have a new found respect for this dude. He certainly made today's stage worth watching.

Office Scare

2009-07-07T10:38:00.000-06:00

The following sign was posted on my door the other day while my bike was sitting in my office:

POLICY AND PROCEDURE 0031.7

(My Companys' Name) PROPERTY VIOLATION

Aaron Smith

You are in company violation

(Our Company's Landlord) has brought to our attention and to the attention of the Facilities and its Real-Estate team - YOU ARE IN COMPANY VIOLATION. According to our lease, storing bicycles in cubicles and offices is a direct violation. If it continues the Landlord has the right to retain your bicycles for 30 days of empundment [sic]. Your cost center has been charged $75.00 for this first-time offense. The landlord has requested for you to call 1.801.xxx.xxxx so we can expedite this charge and record its violation on your employee record. (My Company) advises persons who ride bikes to work to lock bikes on the racks provided outside the building for storing and securing bicycles.

Your cooperation and compliance with this request is greatly appreciated in the future.

Corporate Facilities Team

My initial thought was that it was a prank. I certainly would have had it coming to me. In fact, I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner. But the usual suspects were rather convincing in their denials, so the distinct possibility that this was serious crept into my mind.

I stewed about it over lunch. I was rather furious that my perfect routine of mixing long road and mountain bike rides with my commute to and/or from work may have a serious monkey wrench thrown in it. I cussed out the facilities team while visiting the bike shop during my lunch hours. I spent the drive back to the office formulating a list of arguments I planned on using when I talked to the facilities team.

When I got back into the office, I nervously called the number listed in the violation notice. Sure enough, my coworker's name popped up on the caller ID of my company telephone. I immediately hung up and ran over to that bastard's office. He saw that I called so he was waiting for me and already getting a good laugh at my expense. He got me. He got me good. He saw where I was vulnerable and took advantage. Let the office pranks begin!

Race Picture Share

2009-07-02T14:00:00.000-06:00

Here are a few more pictures that I picked up from PrimeLite Photos:

Sundance - I'm going to bite my lip off one of these days:

Soldier Hollow:

That previous picture almost looked like I was smiling. It must have been taken before I crashed, because this picture is more in line with how I remember this race (in the pain cave):

Go check out some pictures of yourselves from these races on PrimeLite Photos. The photos at primelite seem to be of high quality, and they are very reasonably priced, at $2.50 for a 4x6.

Wasatch Classic 2009

2009-07-01T11:20:00.001-06:00

So close. I coulda shoulda woulda finished the Wasatch Classic. But I blew it.

The quick version: I started a bit slow, then felt amazing. Nothing could stop me. Except getting lost. Twice. I was going to run out of light and food so I had to cut out the Crest/Mid-Mountain loop and call it a day.

The illustrated version:

8 of us met in Midway at 6am, including Adam, Essam and John from Colorado, Rob from Arizona, Reed, Rich, Derrick and me.

Rolling out of Midway:

Derrick, Adam and I climbed the 5000 feet out of Midway together. Here is Derrick trying to conquer the WC on his single-speed:

The views back toward Deer Creek were spectacular:

I rode the singletrack up on Ant Knolls for the first time. It is some of the best in the Wasatch:
And then there were the views. It honestly does not get any better than this:
But these aren't bad either:

Adam on the ridge:
After Tibble (which has been entirely ruined by motos, in case you haven't heard), things started to get interesting. I was feeling great on the climb and made it to a Y in the road. I looked on my map, looked at the signs, and looked at the turn-by-turn instruction sheet, and was positive I needed to turn right. Well, after about 1000+ feet of climbing, I realized that I was mistaken. After cussing up a storm and nearly throwing myself off of a nearby cliff, I turned around and got back on route.

The wrong turn meant I was on my own for the rest of the ride. I thought I could still finish if I could ride strong until Catherine's pass. I made it to the top of Dry Fork and figured out how to start up Catherine's Pass. Then I made like the pioneer children and walked and walked and walked.

About half-way up Catherine's Pass (who is this Catherine Lady, anyway? I was so sick of that bitch about half-way up. I wonder if she was related to Scott? Have you noticed that Scott named everything in the Wasatch? Scott's Pond (Sundance), Scott's Pass and Hill (Big Cottonwood), Scottie's Bowl, etc. Man, what an egomaniac), the trail turned to snow, and I eventually lost the trail, as well as the tracks of the WC'ers that went before me. I didn't have a GPS, so I saw a pass that looked like where I needed to be heading and started hiking up.

Eventually, I was hauling my bike through areas like this (I told you Catherine was a bitch):

It was brutal, but you can imagine my relief when I got to the top of the pass. I looked down the other side expecting to see a trail down to Lake Catherine. My heart sank when I looked down and saw this:
No lake, no trail. After spending a while looking at the map and the peaks around me, and walking around another ridge, I realized that I had ended up at the top of Alta. I was tempted to slide down the snow banks to the bottom of Alta and call a ride to get home. But I realized that Adam would be waiting for me in Midway and I had no way of getting in contact with him. Rather than risk showing up on the nightly news, I spent the next hour or so walking across snowfields, rocks and cliffs with my bike (Damn you Catherine!):
I finally traversed over to Catherine's pass and made it down to Brighton (which was no easy feat either, by the way). Like I mentioned earlier, I didn't have enough light or food to make it around the Crest/Mid-Mountain loop, so I had to climb over Guardsman and roll down into Midway.

As you may have guessed, during the hike over Catherine I swore that I'd never take a bike over her again. But I have to admit, it did make for an amazing and memorable adventure. I'm pretty sure that I took my bike across sections where a bike has never been. Not that that's always a good thing. Plus it's not Catherine's fault that she's so steep and rocky, or that I got lost, so I should probably stop cursing her name.

By the time I made it home, I had this nagging question in the back of my head about whether I could have finished if I hadn't spent so much of my time and food while lost. I'm pretty sure I could have, but there's only one way to find out...

P.S. I should mention that the Wasatch Classic is officially doable. Reed finished it. And maybe Rich - I haven't heard what happened on his ride yet. I should also point out that Reed only finished after making his first attempt last year and getting lost on the same road I got lost on this year. So maybe it's a sign of good things to come.

First Day on 2 Wheels

2009-06-25T07:35:00.000-06:00

Before I left on my trip, riding a bike without training wheels finally clicked for my 4 year old. It didn't come without a few spills though:

But she eventually got it:
She stole that cute little basket off of Dug's old Surly, by the way.

Here's a quick video of her pushing the big ring. You cyclocrossers can probably learn a thing or two about dismounts at :14 and at :38.

I don't know what made me more proud. The fact that she's on two wheels, or the fact that after one of her crashes, I asked her if she was done for the day and she whimpered "no, when we crash, we get right back on our bike." She clearly has a dad who has crashed a lot.

Here's a tip for any of you with kids on training wheels. If they are having trouble with balance, try getting them one of those razor scooters. Aubrie just couldn't figure out the whole balance thing, and I think she was too afraid of falling on her bike to give it a try. We put her on a scooter for a few weeks, which was a lot less daunting. The next time we put her on a bike was the day we took this video.

Touring the Cotswolds

2009-06-23T10:30:00.001-06:00

After spending a day in Reading (think Reading Railroad, Monopoly) and a couple days in Gloucester doing work stuff, I had a day and a half to do some 'splorin' (that's a double apostrophe, not single quotes). I was stationed right outside of an area called the "Cotswolds", which is filled with "cute" little towns. My wife would have been in heaven. But since she wasn't with me, I hired a mistress for a few days instead:

The mistress was a Trek 3 series. She wasn't much to look at, but she got the job done.

Before the mistress and I headed out to the Cotswolds, we stopped by the local Gloucester cathedral:

While checking out the interior of the cathedral, one of the choirs was performing. I recorded part of it, but the recording just doesn't do it justice, so I'm not going to post it here. Just know that it was good enough that I contemplating becoming a Catholic for a while because of it.

Saturday morning, I headed to the Cotswolds and took the following route (more or less):

View Larger Map

The roads were for the most part quiet, beautiful, narrow, and hilly:

There were also a bunch of equestrian trails that crisscrossed the area:

And even some stretches of nice single-track:

For the most part, I'd just navi-guess my way from town to town using the roads and trails until I'd become good and lost. Then I'd pull out the GPS on my phone and figure out where I was. If not for that technological miracle, I'd still be lost out there. I must have passed through 20+ towns on Saturday, most of which came and went in the blink of an eye.

Other than a few of the more touristy towns that were filled with cars, being in the Cotswolds felt like going back in time a few hundred years. I felt like Robin Hood in the Sherwood Forest while traversing some of the landscapes and dirt roads:

Here are some additional highlights from the journey...

Snowshill - an "edible bundle of cuteness", according to my guidebook:

Church in Chipping Campden:

Many people think that J.R.R. Tolkien based his landscapes and drawings on the Cotswold towns. This door to the cathedral in Stow-on-the-Wold is claimed to have inspired the door into Moria:

In Stow-on-the-Wold, they know how to work it (the sign says "Beer Garden & children's play area"):

Caught part of the local Cricket game (match?). I can't figure this game out...

This little old church in Upper Slaughter was my favorite. No frills. And I loved the centuries worth of graves stacked on top of each other to the left. By the way, I'm going to start pushing the local churches to convert the front lawns into cemeteries. I think they add a nice touch.

Some houses down the hill from the church in Upper Slaughter:

All in all, it was a good trip. For me, anytime I visit a far-away big city like London, it reminds me of how small my slice of the world is, but also reminds me how important things like family and friends are. So I jumped right in with a good hike and swim with the family yesterday and a great ride this morning with team Draper/Alpine. It's good to be home.

God Save the Queen

2009-06-19T15:20:00.000-06:00

I'm rolling solo in the UK for a week for work. Before heading into the office, I had the afternoon free, so I made the most of it in London. Arriving at Paddington Station:

The bottomless Tube station:

No trip to England would be complete without some Fish and Chips. Mmmmm... greasy...

Wesla and I visited England back in 2000, and although I'd gladly revisit many of the places we saw back then, I opted for the British Museum, which we missed the last go 'round:

In short, it was probably the best amazing collection of stuff I've ever seen, aside from the bike collections of a few friends.

I can only hope to leave half the legacy of this Egyptian guy:

Seriously, nobody will remember me 50 years after I die. 10 years? Okay, I'll give myself 2 years. (except for my big sport-category win at Sherwood Hills last year - that will be talked about for centuries). Here we are more than 2000 years later, and we're still admiring this dude. When I die, please mummify me and put me in a museum. Thanks in advance.

As my readers know (all 3 of you), there is no better way to see a city than on a bike. So after the museum I went on a bike tour of London with "Fat Tire Bike Tours." Here I am rolling in style:

The peleton:

We made a stop at Westminster. I can't believe how many dead kings they can fit into these cathedrals. As they say here in the UK, "loads."

Some important building somewhere in London:

During the bike tour, we stopped by a Princess Diana Memorial in the Kensington Gardens. It's basically this man-made stream that circles around part of the park, goes down a few small rapids, and comes to a rest at the bottom. Our tour guide (who was awesome, by the way) says that the river represents Princess Di's life, which had a few rough spots and some smooth spots. Then some genius in the group says, "well, shouldn't there be some rapids at the bottom to represent the crash? Ha ha ha..." Um.... Awkward... I think the peanut gallery guy underestimated the esteem in which the English hold their queens and princesses, because our tour guide wasn't laughing. I suppose the guy had a point though...

We finished off the tour and I "slayed" the sprint finish. Um, I mean I "slew" it. Unfortunately I was going way to fast to get a picture of my big win.

A few things to love about the UK:

1) Their tendency to under/overexaggerate. You say something they agree with and it's "brilliant." Their grandmother dies and it's "a bit of a drag." Their tea is bad and it's "ghastly."

2) The old English people. Love them.

3) Driving. Love the small and zippy cars. Love the craziness of driving on the left. Love the flowiness of the round-abouts. Love the drivers (in the US, people would be honking and flipping me off for the stupid things I've done during my adventure of driving on the left. Here, they just wave and let me get on with it). I only hope that at least once before I leave I will remember to get into the right-side door so I don't have to look in the glovebox in an attempt to appear like I meant to open the wrong door before walking around to the other side.

One thing not to love:

1) The food. Everything they say is true. When you're here, get the Indian food. Trust me.

ICUP Deer Valley 2009

2009-06-14T15:37:00.006-06:00

After last year's perfect conditions after a June snowstorm in Deer Valley, I wasn't too concerned about this year's trail conditions. Sure enough, the conditions were good again. Perhaps a bit soft in places for a lap or so, but never too bad.

The race started and I just didn't feel great. I guess nobody does up Little Stick (which Brad has aptly renamed). I don't know if it was the cold or my preparation or what, but my legs just felt a little dead - not much spring to them. Like Rick, I was having bad thoughts on that first climb. I need to be less of a head case.

I was tentative on the first DH due to the wet conditions, but eventially found a good groove. The course will always be one of my fav's (other than doing Little Stick three times), because the two descents are just amazing.

Speaking of the DH, here is a picture from the race that I picked up from PrimeLite Photo that reminds me how much I hate racing with knee warmers (I spent most of the race wishing I didn't have them on):

Scott from PrimeLite takes great pictures and sells them at a bargain, so check out his site to find your pictures from the past few races.

The results from DV were both good and frustrating. I think I've made an incremental improvement, but it's frustrating to look up the results and see a list of 10 people within 2-3 minutes and know that I wasn't able to catch any of them. Then there was a five minute gap between me and the next group of finishers. I'm right there with the group I want to be in, but I need to figure out how to get myself into the mix rather than on the tail end. I'm sure that sitting around and eating a ton of greasy food in the U.K. like I'm doing for the next week is exactly what I need to pull it off (more on that later). At least I'll have plent of energy stores for the Wasatch Classic!

Smoking the Pipe

2009-06-11T15:07:00.008-06:00

On Monday, Adam and I beat the rain and got a great ride in up on the Timp Foothill Trails. Adam introduced me to the new Crank-to-Frank trail that many are calling "Kenny's trail":

Then on the way down, I took a hit on the infamous pipe up Dry Canyon:

And here I am smoking the pipe:

I should warn you about taking hits on the pipe. The pipe is an addiction. You're afraid to take your first hit, but when you do, you get this sudden rush. The rush makes you want it more. So you do it again and again, thinking each time that just one hit on the pipe can't hurt you, and that you can quit at anytime. But deep down, you know. Someday, that pipe is going to kill you.

And if the pipe doesn't, the Stairway to Heaven at the bottom will. Just ask Ricky.

A couple of trail updates and useful bits of information:

On Saturday, the ridge trail system was in near-perfect condition. I was expecting a lot more mud and snow, but there was no snow at all. Jurassic Park, Joy, Pine Hollow, Salamander Flat, Willow Creek, Horse Flat, all great.

There were a few patches of mud that were easy to walk through or around. Unless, of course, you're on a motorcycle, in which case you are apparently encouraged to give 'er full throttle, throw a rooster-tail 20 feet high and create a foot deep trench in the trail. Love them.

The Timp Foothill Trails (Frank, Crank, Betty, Area 51, Dry, etc.): I've heard a lot of people complaining about the rain lately. I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Once the Timp Foothill trails are dry, they stay dry. All summer.

Last night, I couldn't find anyone to ride with. Everyone was bummed about the torrential downpour that had just finished. I took off alone at about 7:30 and road the dirt for almost 2 hours in perfect conditions. Not a single puddle or muddy section. My feet were soaked by the flowers and grass, but that really just added to how great the ride was.

So unless we're in the middle of 2-3 days of solid rain (which only happens once every few years around here), the Timp Foothill Trails are good to go about 2 hours after the downpour stops.

You're welcome.

Pandora

2009-06-09T14:46:00.001-06:00

If you don't know about Pandora, you're missing out. Especially if you sit in front of a computer all day like me. It's pretty much the biggest thing to hit the Webernet since, um, well, porn, probably. I love it (Pandora, not porn).

So I created a station on Pandora that includes the following bands (added using the "add variety" feature):

The Shins
Gomez
Elliott Smith
Death Cab
Guster
The Two Gallants
Radiohead
Wilco

The amazing thing about Pandora is that it actually knows about bands like The Two Gallants. Over the past few months, I've occasionally told the station the songs I like and don't like. By now, pretty much everything that comes out of this station is good. Granted, it still thinks I like Modest Mouse and Coldplay a lot more than I really do, but I'll let that slide. It has, however, introduced me to some cool artists like Nick Drake (how I lived my entire life without knowing about him is beyond me), A.A. Bondy and Iron and Wine.

Overall, the station is on the mellow side, which is good during work (the only time I listen to it), but I probably should add a little sum'n sum'n to spice it up a bit.

Now I just need to come up with a way to transmit my Pandora stations directly to my iPod. How sweet would that be?

So what bands are in your Pandora station? Or if you've been living under a rock, what bands would be in your Pandora station if you had known about it? And what bands are missing from my lineup?

The Churro Challenge

2009-06-04T15:58:00.006-06:00

I'd be crazy to challenge Chad in any other race, but you introduce guns into the mix and it's a whole new ballgame. When Paz, Ryan, Chad and I unite to race the Soldier Hollow Biathlon, there is always a lot more on the line than bragging rights. A whole lot more. What could make this race so important, you might ask? The last across the line buys churros at Tarahumara, that's what. And these ain't your Disneyland churros.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I was a little worried going in since I'd be racing against the fast guys. I was happy not to be in last place going into the first shooting range, but my gun was having problems, so I had to get up and wait for another minute while another gun became available. I was last place leaving the gun range, but only missed one shot, so I caught a few guys who were burning extra calories in the penalty lap.

Next lap, I was on a roll at the range, but double-cocked the gun which wasted a round, so I had to ride another penalty lap.

By the way, have you noticed that when you say the word "cock" in relation to a gun, it sounds normal, but when you write it down, it still seems a little, um, weird? I digress...

The next three laps, I never missed another target. I was shooting the lights out. Paz was way off the front despite starting a minute after Chad and I (Watch out for Paz, Expert 30-39'ers - he's back), but I caught and passed Chad, who was literally getting so dizzy riding penalty laps that he lost count during one of his many visits.

The race was only about 9-10 miles (12-13 for Chad), but it was the hardest 9-10 miles ever since it is non-stop sprinting. Even after doing at least 11 fewer penalty laps than Chad, I only narrowly beat Chad and Ryan to avoid buying churros.

Speaking of sprinting, I pulled what you single-speeders might call a dirty move at the end. I came around the last turn and saw a single-speeder pulling out of a penalty lap. As you may know, the last few hundred yards is a flat paved section - a single-speeder's worst nightmare. I saw the gear-impaired rider was spinning his brains out and pounced to edge him at the line (which, in a Wed. night race is an imaginary line somewhere right before the tag-pulling lady, so maybe I didn't edge him out). Hey, in my defense, it was really just retaliation for all the times you 1-speeders put me in the pain cave as you pull away on the climbs. Kenny will certainly make me pay for that low-blow. So is it a cycling faux pas for a geary to out-sprint a single-speeder on flat pavement? The equivalent of punching a helpless old blind lady? (I'm not sure how many more penalty laps Kenny did than me, but since I was with him at the end, I'm guessing it was a lot)

Oh, and since we're on the subject of single-speeds, I may be in the market for one of those new-fangled contraptions. Give me a heads-up if you see a size medium on the market.

Expert A

2009-06-02T16:06:00.001-06:00

If you are familiar with the Wednesday Night Worlds held at Sundance and Soldier Hollow, you may have heard (or received an email) that the big Expert class will be divided into Expert A and Expert B classes. Basically, they took the series point totals, drew a line through the middle, and put the top half in Expert A and the bottom half in Expert B.

The Expert A is filled with the really fast guys you'd expect to see there. You know, like Mitchell, Alex, Chris, Mark J, Chucky, etc. Oh yeah, and if you keep going down the list, way down at the bottom you'll see a guy named Aaron. Oh Sh!t! That's me!

Reminds me of one of my favorite songs:

Apparently, I made the mistake of racing two races rather than just one before the split was made. I suppose it makes sense though, because I certainly belong in the category above "the" Chad Harris. I mean, he may be a bonafide professional mountain biker, but we all know he pales in comparison to my mtb skillz (sensing a little sarcasm?).

Well, on the bright side, I would not have finished dead last in the Expert A category in either of my previous 2 Wed. night races this year. In my first race at Soldier Hollow, I would have totally smoked Tim H. So what if he finished 1st overall in last week's Wed. night race? And Kenny didn't even finish the Soldier Hollow race! Yeah, he'll come up with some lame excuse like how his belt drive snapped in the middle of the climb, but there's nothing that prevented him from Fred Flinstoning his way to the top and coasting down.

In my second race at Sundance, I would have finished ahead of pro rider Chris H. I don't even need to tell you how much faster I am than him. I'm sure mechanicals had nothing to do with this result.

Anyway, the email from the WeeklyRaceSeries folks said "I do not want to see people who are in the A category trying to jump down into the B category." I'm not sure why we don't just pick a category we feel comfortable with, but if that's the way it's gonna be, I guess I'll be in chase mode this summer. Fortunately I'll have slow guys like Tim and Chris to beat up on.

For the record, I'd race the Wed. night series even if it meant finishing 20 minutes behind everyone else. It's a great series, the people putting it on do a fantastic job, and I'm happy to race in any category, as long as we hit up Tarahumara after Shoot'em up Short Track tomorrow for some churros.

Sundance Spin, 2009

2009-05-30T15:14:00.005-06:00

The Sundance ICUP race had another great turnout. Is race attendance up this year, or is just me? While waiting in line with BikeMan Tim, we came up with a theory that since everyone is losing their jobs, they have plenty of time to ride their bikes. Or maybe it's the Lance Armstrong effect. I have since come up with my own theory. Now that Adam is racing again, everyone wants to be able to look back and say, "yeah, I raced against Adam once... back in o' nine. He was in Expert and I was in Sport, but yeah, we lined up together..." Yeah, that's gotta be it.

The pace started fast, as it always does. I had a tough time getting things going off the gun. Normally by the top of the pavement, my HR is already at 180. This time I was in the mid 160s. Not sure if it's due to a mediocre night's sleep, or maybe I just need to work on my warmup routine. After the race, I heard a lot of people comment on the size of our group - that when we started it seemed like half of the staging area took off, and that we almost looked like a grand tour peloton heading up the road. It was fun to be part of such a big and fast group. It made the entire race exciting.

I finally started to wake up on Archies, but progress was difficult. I was 4th wheel in a long line behind a guy with a yellow tag. We all had white tags, and I think the pros had black tags, so maybe he started with the wrong group? Anyway, he wasn't going to yield, so the group in front of us gained some time. If he was on in our group and just had the wrong tag, well, I guess that's just part of racing.

I felt pretty good on the climb to the top. When I crested, I couldn't see anyone behind me. I quickly caught a dude that was just crawling on the DH. This time I was third wheel behind him. We must have asked to pass 10 times, but no dice. By the time we got near the bottom where we finally could pass, everyone I had gapped on the climb was again lined up behind me. It was frustrating to lose that time, but again, I guess that's all part of racing. 1st lap, 35:39.

During the second lap, I didn't feel like I blew up, but my time of 36:52 indicates that I faded quite a bit. I was a little bummed that the guy on the DH passed me on the climb, but stoked to see Adam L. came by. He's made a lot of progress just within the past few weeks. Fortunately, Adam was eventually able to convince the DH guy to let us by during the descent, so not as much time was lost. I caught Chad A. on lap two, and he and I ended up riding the rest of the race together.

The odd thing about the third lap is that I felt like I faded, but it ended up being faster than my 2nd lap with a time of 36:07. Archie's just killed me on the 3rd lap because I didn't have the upper end power for the rollers and rocky/rooty sections. Adam gapped me and I let UMB Mikey go by me (what a concept - letting the faster guy go by on the single track). Chad and I climbed the rest of the way together. He gapped me a bit at the top after he passed a lapper, and I could feel some cramping coming on as I pushed that last section to the top to catch back on. I was barely able to hold his wheel on the way down.

We exited onto the pavement and Mikey was just ahead. I was only able to stay with Chad about 1/3 of the way to the top and he pulled ahead. I came around Mikey and he suddenly woke up. He raised the pace and as I tried to follow, the cramps came back. Mikey was cramping too, but was able to edge me out.

Finish time of 1:48 or so (according to my computer). Shaved over 3 minutes off of last year, and was around 7.5 minutes off of the winning time. I consider this to be an improvement, but the Expert class is improving faster than I am. For example, this year, 6th place had a time of 1:41:48, compared to last year's 2nd place time of 1:41:45. Anyway, I finished 21st out of 34 finishers. I was mainly just happy to keep the rubber side down in light of my recent clumsiness (I hadn't mentioned here that I crashed again on the last Wed. night race).

Memorial Day Play-By-Play

2009-05-26T13:25:00.003-06:00

5:40 - Alarm goes off. I look out the window to see dry streets. The race is on.

6:00 - Eat two pancakes and a banana. The breakfast of champions. I'm excited not to be sick to my stomach like last week, which turned out to be a stomach bug I probably caught from my son, but which I'll always blame on the Carl's Junior Bourbon Burger I ate 7 hours later (even typing it makes me a little queasy).

7:23 - Chad calls as I'm heading to the car and tells me that the race is delayed an hour. I go back inside, feed my kids breakfast, and take a 40 minute nap. I contemplate whether taking a nap before a race will negatively or positively affect performance.

8:10 - Wake up from nap, get my crap, and head out the door.

9:30 - Warming up and eating shot blocks. Trying to keep on top of the race course changes due to the wet conditions. I'm chomping at the bit, and I'm jacked up on carbs.

10:15 - Word spreads that my race is delayed till 12:30. Which I interpret to mean more like 1:00pm or so.

10:36 - I check in with Wesla. She doesn't sound thrilled with the idea of watching kids by herself all day. Can't say I blame her.

10:42 - I'm contemplating what to do. I run into Mark who has decided to skip out on the race and go on a ride with friends instead. Riding with friends and keeping the misses happy? Decision made. I turn in my tag, transfer race registration, and head up to Sundance.

noonish - Start riding. We have a great group, including Dan, Mark, Kyle, Art, Kevin, and a couple of spouses. Trails are in near perfect condition.

12:42 - We're having a blast using all of that race energy on the Sundance trails. I'm excited to be feeling good again - as good as I've felt since before RAWROD, which seemed to be the beginning of a bit of a downward slide for me. Even when feeling good, it's tough to keep Dan, Mark and Kyle in sight. Those dudes are fast.

12:50 - We're on our second lap. Dan and I have a conversation about giardia, colonoscopies, and tape worms. Don't ask.

1:29 - Mark and I get separated from the group while talking about who knows what. We start down Boneyard for a quick out and back on Archies before I head home. If the name "Boneyard" isn't enough foreshadowing for you, I don't know what is.

1:32:14.2 - I'm suddenly supermanning through the air at approximately 19 miles per hour.

1:32:14.3 - I realize that my left pedal hit a rock back there, which is the reason I'm flying through the air.

1:32:14.34 - I look ahead and notice that I'm heading for a pile of jagged rocks.

1:32:14.39 - I think to myself that my streak of good luck has finally come to an end. Like all mountain bikers, I've had my fair share of crashes, but up until now, I've somehow always managed to land in the dirt. Not this time.

1:32:14.42 - As my face approaches the rocks, I wonder whether Wesla will still love me once I'm grossly disfigured. Does my health insurance cover reconstructive surgery? Will I be able to enjoy the afternoon BBQ if I'm missing most of my teeth? Okay, so none of these thoughts actually cross my mind. I was mostly just really freaked out about my eminent face plant.

1:32:14.50 - At the last possible moment, I lurch to the right to divert my face. I land full force on my shoulder instead. Any later and I would have landed on my face. Any sooner, and I would have likely rotated too far and risked breaking my collarbone. Luckily for me, I only ended up with a torn jersey, a "strawberry juice" colored wound (as described by my daughter), and a swollen shoulder.

1:36 - Back on the pony for the out and back on Archies. Mark wonders why he invited the beginner along. He graciously stops short of recommending I enroll in one of the "learn how to mountain bike" classes offered by Sundance for the bargain price of $100/hr. It would probably be money well spent.

2:12 - Arrive home, right on (the original) schedule.

The rest of the day - Ice my shoulder and enjoy two gluttonous meals. My shoulder is sore, but not even bad enough to keep me from riding today. I'm a lucky man, who really needs to stop riding like an out of control novice. Mark pointed out that bad things come in threes. Between this crash, my crash at Soldier Hollow, and a slow-speed crash while trying to clean a move with the other Mark a few weeks ago, I hope I'm done.

All in all, it was a great Memorial Day. And for better or worse, I once again have the battle wound to remind me of the good times.

Riding Behind the Wheel

2009-05-21T20:23:00.005-06:00

Tell me I'm not alone here. Every time I drive to a ride, I spend the first five minutes or so after the ride riding behind the wheel. On my way home, I'll find myself doing things like:

1) Using all brakes or all gas. Sorta like how my dad drives all the time.
2) Trying to maintain speed around turns.
3) Leaning into turns. This helps a lot to be successful with #2.
4) Squeezing between obstacles in the road (e.g., cars).
5) Ignoring those annoying painted lines in the road and picking the best line instead.
6) I've even found myself pulling up on the wheel and lifting up on the pedals to absorb a bump. Again, another huge help.
7) Three lane drifts around switchbacks (corners).

Okay, so maybe not that last one. About 5 minutes into the drive, I realize I should stop riding and start driving. It's a good thing I don't have to drive to many rides anymore, because I'm about 10 times more likely to get a ticket during the first 5 minutes after a ride than any other time. Or even worse, my superpower may be used against me one of these days.

So that about sums up my drive home from the Draper race course today. As far as the race course goes, I'll start by saying that I loved the old Draper course. I even loved the street crossings, which added to the character of the race. Most of all, I'll miss BBQ alley.

So how 'bout the new course?

Well, it rocks. A few have voiced some concerns about it, but after riding it, I think it will still rank as one of the best and most fun courses in the ICUP. It's tough to beat the Clark's climb. The Ghost Falls DH is amazing. I did it once last year and remember it being bumpy and non-flowy. Now it is buff, banked and buttery. "The Wall" will give you one last chance to pass. The steps section and the stretch right above the steps bridge is a fun little techy section where you are guaranteed to either gain or lose seconds. Yeah, passing will be an issue, but what else is new?

I wish I could ride Ghost Falls 10 more times before Monday. There are turns that you can take faster than you would think, and there are others near the bottom that are easy to over cook. Home court advantage could be big for all you Draper-ites.

Have I mentioned how great the ICUP is recently? Nearly every course is amazing.

And whatever you do, please use caution while riding behind the wheel...

Bring Your Head Up

2009-05-19T13:50:00.002-06:00

This morning I was busy nursing my wounds from Saturday's carnage:

(I would have shown you a third picture of where I took the brunt of the fall, but I didn't want my blog to be labeled as a porn site. Also, notice in the top-left background that a few flesh wounds doesn't mean you should stop commuting to work).

It got me thinking about how lucky I am to have a hobby like mountain biking. That's right, licking my wounds made me think of how lucky I am. Over the past week or so I've had a few conversations with some old friends that I don't see very often. The conversation usually turned to what each of us were up to. It seems like the response of choice for most of my friends was:

"I'm keeping my head down."

"Keeping my head down", in case you're wondering, is another way of saying "I'm working my ass off", or "Trying to get ahead." I used to ride with some of these guys, but it doesn't sound like any of them have been out in months or even years. I secretly felt a little bit bad for my friends' obsessions with getting ahead, and I avoided telling them how much fun I've had on my bike, skis and snowboard this past year (even though they probably would have thought my time would have been better spent getting ahead).

Don't get me wrong, it's important to work your ass off. Especially right now when you never know if you'll have a job next week. I look back on the 7-8 years I spent up at Utah State (my #1) and the U of U (my #2) , and there were plenty of months where I "kept my head down" without ever bringing it up. I'm grateful for these times, because it laid a good groundwork for the rest of my life.

However, in hindsight, my best memories from my years in Logan are the times I did bring my head up. Riding the Jardine Juniper and Bunchgrass trails, hiking to the wind caves with my wife, and taking a semester off to travel Europe with the misses. I'm grateful to have the memories I do have, and I wish I had even more of them. Too many memories are of me sitting in the Engineering computer lab.

So feel free to work your ass off. Just don't forget to bring your head up from time to time. If you're not enjoying the journey, it's time to take a step back because the journey just keeps going and going.

Whoa, this suddenly turned into my most preachy post ever.

So anyway, to get back to the beginning of this post, the burn/sting from my my leg, arm, and hip serve as a reminder from my crash. Maybe it makes me a narcisist (I think all bike racers qualify to some extent), but I sorta like that painful feeling. It reminds me that I'm alive. It reminds me that I brought my head up last weekend. It reminds me that I'll be bringing my head up again on Monday. I won't win, and my chances of a podium finish are slim, but sure as hell beats keeping my head down.

ICUP Soldier Hollow, 2009

2009-05-17T15:44:00.003-06:00

The race started and I was feeling pretty good off the gun. On that very first little stretch of single track after the pavement, a gap formed between the fast dudes up front and the rest of us. I was fourth wheel in our group and felt I had the legs bridge the gap, so I made a couple of passes once the short double track downhill started. I was still only second wheel, and I got a little carried away in the moment. I tried to make another pass on the inside of that really sketchy right-hand turn before the trail starts to climb again. I was in the weeds and I was about to lean back and make the corner when my front wheel got caught in a rut and got washed out. I was down before I knew what hit me.

I don't know what hurt worse. The actual crash or the shower when I got home. Washing out road rash (or in this case, trail rash) never feels good.

I hopped back on the pony, and fortunately Craig pointed out that I left my water and sunglasses on the trail. Yeah, I was a little dazed, not even realizing I had lost my shades. I hopped off, cleaned up the yard sale, tried to shake off the crash and got back going, but not before going from a good position to dead last.

I'm still beating myself up for making such a rookie mistake so early on in the race. I had 26 more miles to make that pass (like, for example, the double track climb right after where I crashed), and I picked about the worst possible time to try it. Instead, I spent the next 26 miles paying for it. It took a bit to clear the cobwebs, but once I did, I went out a little too hard trying to catch back on. I made a few passes, but really blew up on lap two. Motivation went down, my hip hurt from the crash, and I wished I was racing Sport again so I could call it a day.

Finally on lap three I got some energy back. It was much too little too late, but I was able to make a few passes. Although my 3rd lap time wasn't great, it was my fastest lap of the day by a minute.

Even though this is a tough course, I'm actually looking forward to next year. It's fun and challenging. I raced it two years ago as a Sport and I felt that the course got the best of me, and I felt like it got me again this year. Next year, Soldier Hollow is going down.