Early Hibernation?

Did I sleep through the Fall season? It's been like 50 degrees and cloudy for the last 3 days. I like cold weather but not seeing the sun has got me going into hibernation mode. I just want to build a fire in the fireplace and read a good book instead of getting in the suggested 6 hours of weekly training the OMTP calls for.

With that being said I did manage to log almost 8 hours of training last week. Some of it in the gym but the majority was logged on the bike. Long rides with the crew the weekend before and a relaxed ride with WB this past weekend meant 5.5 hours pedaling for the week. That combined with the weather and another damn house fire at 3:30 am Sunday morning has me on the lazy side this week.

The Higher Ground Christmas party Sunday night was a perfect way to start the season. No family pressure, just friends enjoying free pizza and beer. Looking in the mirror behind the bar I realized I was one of the few "mature" folks in the crowd. Doug's dad who's in his 70s was there, as well as Mike's dad who just has me beat by a couple of years. I'm not sure how old Roger is but I suspect we're close to the same age. So in a room with probably 50 people, old guys were a minority. Of course in that crowd there were quite a few "different" characters. Some men with ear rings, some dressed very GQ (Gentleman's Quarterly), some short and loud, some with funny hats. I wish I had taken my camera.

Speaking of cameras, the latest issue of Outside magazine came in the mail yesterday and had an article on the Heroes of Iron Man. No, not the movie, the Hawaiian Iron Man. Along with the requisite pictures of skinny, hairless, 30 year olds there was a picture of a gentlemen who had finished the last 10 Iron Man races. He is 81. Now that's what I'm talking about! Who gives a crap about somebody in their 30s. Heck at that age you should be able to do that kind of stuff. But a dude in his 80s finishing an Iron Man? Now that dude is in a minority!

Oh, and after I finished typing this the sun came out! You're welcome.

Disclaimer: any reference to any persons living or dead is a coincidence

Reading

I love to read. I can tell just by talking to a person for a while if they're a reader. I'll read most anything. If you blog, I'll read it, I don't care if you can write or not. You're the same way. You want proof? You're reading this aren't you? Daily I look forward to reading the blogs that I follow, even though most of them only get updated occasionally.

I guess what brought this to mind is my recent purchase of two books, the first is titled "Sh*t My Dad Says" which has got to be the funniest book I've read in years, and the other is the new Stephen King novel (I can't remember the title right now). I already finished the first book and lent it to Big Worm last night. He's a reader, I could tell by his deep personality.

The Stephen King book is huge and I've just gotten into it. It's about time travel, I know, that's hard to get your mind around, but King is a master at it. He takes you from the present to 1958. A place where everybody smokes and the air in the cities smells bad, but if you wanted a job you had one, the public school system was working, and the country was riding a wave of prosperity. Am I (he) looking through rose colored glasses? Probably, but you have to admit it sounds good. Heck I was only 2 years old in 1958 so what do I know?

The Old Man Training Plan (OMTP) is off to a rocky start. I'm supposed to be doing lite effort rides except for one moderate effort on the weekend. The last 4 rides have been at a moderate to hard effort. I blame all the crew, each has had his turn trying to see if they can blow the ride up, then complaining because it was too hard. They'll be sorry when I have to start riding by myself.

According to my training guide older athletes (yes, that's me) should spend more time building and maintaining strength, which means more time in the gym. So far I'm enjoying my workouts. I'm the most buff person in the gym most of the time. Remember, this is in beautiful downtown Havana, so the clientele may be a little different than in your local gym. I've started back running and hope to get back to 5k shape. It's amazing how quickly it goes away when you stop using it.

The Havana Health and Fitness Center.

The hard rides combined with two back to back structure fires have left me sore. I'm the Assistant Chief of the Havana Volunteer Fire Department, and unless you've done it, you don't realize how much work pulling hose in 50+ pounds of bunker gear is. Both fires took us 3+ hours to put out. Anyhoo it's just something I do for my fellow man. Feeling pretty good about myself today aren't I?

And So It Begins

The down hill run to Christmas. I have a friend who says "the best time of the year is ruined by Thanksgiving and Christmas". I'm not that cynical (yet) but the older I get the more I

see where he's coming from.




Contrary to that statement Thanksgiving was perfect this year. Lil Ball, BJS, Blake the Snake (BTS), and another Junior who's name I can't remember, met at 8:30 Thursday morning at Forest Meadows for a 2 hour MTB ride. I thought it was going to be a hammer fest but it turned out to be mellow. I got back home in time to enjoy the obligatory dinner and after a glass of wine I fell asleep on the back porch. Ah, my kind of day.





I did something that afternoon that I hadn't done in a while and that's walk 9 holes of golf. It's usually a disaster and destroys my normally calm demeanor but not this time. I had the whole course to myself, yep just me and my PBR. I actually didn't play that bad either.





Friday I got on the cross bike that's living at my house while Big Worm is in Africa and rode for about an hour. It was frustrating at first but after awhile I started to enjoy it. I can see the attraction. I feel my R.A.S. starting to focus.





Anyhoo we did the fam thing over the weekend which didn't include any two wheeled entertainment so it was good to get back on the bike Tuesday night for the Higher Ground/ BC ride. The Wrecking Ball family managed to destroy their lights, as did Big Worm, which led to much shouting and squealing in the dark.





The Old Man Training Plan (OMTP) that I'm developing is off to a slow start. Can you imagine that? I've got my average training hours for last year, set up my race schedule for next year, and upped my gym time. I'm bad about getting on these little kicks only to get tired of fooling with it long before it does me any good. We'll see how this goes.

Misc.

Only 2 work days this week then I'm off. This is good.

During a 2.5 hour MTB ride last Saturday it felt like I was pedaling in peanut butter. I wrote it off as just having wimpy legs. But, while cleaning the bike later that day I found what looked like black hair wrapped around my axle, my cassette, and both my derailleur wheels. Nothing was spinning freely. It took me an hour to clean the mess out and get things turning again. It was some type of moss (has PP been near my bike?) that had the strength of fishing line. No telling how long it's been in there since I hadn't washed the bike since a week ago Friday. In defense of my sloppiness it was very hard to see, being black and all. Anyhoo I expect to be able to easily stay up with BJS now that I have fixed that problem.

Oh, and look at my new green grips. I am such a slave to aesthetics.

I am currently reading a book which will surely turn my cycling into a form of torture. The Cyclist's Training Bible is like a text book, complete with suggestions about taking notes and making lists. I'm so confused right now I'll probably just put it down. Is it really worth all that just for a ribbon with a little medallion hanging on it? If I do well then I just get promoted to the expert class and have to do another lap. I can already see my motivation slipping away.

I hope we get in some rides over the Thanksgiving holidays. I'll see ya on the downhill slide to Christmas.

Cold Showers

Finally we were able to do the camping/ riding trip I have wanted to do since last year. BW and BJS were the only two brave souls who signed up for a weekend with me in the woods. B caught a cold the week before so he was out (and mad). Everybody else had some reason or another not to attend. You know who you are, and yes, you missed a great time.

Three grown men shopping in the Ingles Grocery store in Thomaston, Ga. must have been a sight for the locals. We loaded up on fried chicken, white bread rolls, and anything else we could find that wasn't good for us. The pastry aisle got quite a bit of attention also. BW kept riding the grocery cart up and down the store. It was like traveling with a child.

Camp Thunder Boy Scout Camp is located in the Pine Mountain Range along the Flint River. It must have 500 canvas tents set up on wooden decks, each group of tents arranged around a central fire pit. It costs a whole $4 per person per night to rent one of the tents. I was worried we might have to share a tent (BJS snores and looks at his phone all night) but we each had our own, in fact we had our own section all to ourselves.

Friday night was cold and I was glad I had bought a new sleeping bag.

The showers at the camp were an experience. You had to hold a string to keep the warm water flowing. So the dance went like this: 1. Hold string and try to stand out of the way of the ice cold water splashing on you while you waited for it to warm up 2. Jump under the flow of warm water 3. Let go of the string to grab the soap 4. Soap up 5. Grab the string again 6. Scream when the first burst of water is cold again 7. Repeat. Keep in mind the shower stalls were about 10 degrees warmer than the 28 degrees it was outside. Refreshing to say the least. But the tents were comfortable and the woods around the camp were in full fall color. I did feel sorry for the Atlanta dads that had to camp out with their Cub Scouts. It sounded like a small war at the bottom of the mountain.

Saturday was the Thunder Mountain trail ride guided by BW. They told me it was old school mountain bike trail. They had me kinda nervous. Turns out it was great trail. I managed to ride quite a bit of it. We did 13 miles and averaged 5.1 miles per hour. I'm not going to try to describe the trail. I will say that despite my whining at the beginning I ended up enjoying the ride.

Sunday we packed up and headed for Dauset Trails for some new school MTBing. Once again I can't think of a way to put these amazing trails into words. It was a different type of ride from Thunder Mountain and after 19 miles we were tired and had had enough. This remains one of my favorite trail systems, I can't believe we only saw 5 riders on the trail all afternoon.

You tend to forget about the adult problems that normally go through your head when all you have to do for the day is eat, ride, and sleep. On the way home I could feel the weight of my normal world slowly settle back on my shoulders; funny, I hadn't realized I had left it behind until it started creeping back. I guess that's just what goes along with being a grown up. But for 2 days I got to be 17 again.

Go Hawder

We got there at 9:15 on a cold, clear, windy morning last Saturday. B was going to race the Juniors class which was supposed to start at 10:00. I expected to see cars lined up at the gate to get in, I was nervous we might be late to get signed up and get him warmed up. When we rolled into the parking lot and only saw one car I thought we had the wrong day. Welcome to our first experience with Cyclocross racing. Race in the front, party in the back. After getting yelled at by the occupants of that lone car for parking in the wrong spot (they were parked under a tree 50 yards from the track) we made our way toward what we hoped was sign up.

Yes, we were the first to sign up, and no, there were no other Juniors. That'll be $64 thank you. Ok, a little steep but that covered two classes for B, one for me, and two one day racing licences. We walked back to unload.

Could we ride practice? Which way does the track go? It all was very low key, so low key in fact I wondered if there was really going to be a race at all. Finally a couple of riders in FSU kits started to ride so we jumped out behind them. The track consisted of some grass field, straight woods roads, a little bit of pavement, and one man made obstacle that you had to dismount and run your bike over. Not very challenging on my MTB but B said it was interesting on his borrowed cross bike.

The promoters let B run with the collegiate Men's B race, that made for three of them in that race. Notice the crowds in the picture below. B finished that close to the leader to get 2nd. I know, he only beat one guy but still. He was worn out but he got a nice stocking cap for 2nd.

Finally people started to roll in about 11:00. My first race and B's second, the Men's C class, started at 12:15. Almost everybody we normally ride with was on the line. I admit I thought I could at least get top 5 out of 17. But I didn't know what to expect as far as suffering goes. At least there weren't any logs to cross.

It was all over in the longest 34 minutes of my short racing career. It reminded me of Zac's dirty thirties, max heart rate from the start, no rest, and no podium. B was wondering why in the heck I had signed him up for two races when I only was riding one. Hey, it was for his own good. I got 6th.

I have a long way to go to get to the level these roadies are at as far as pedaling fitness goes. I can't even play the age card since Mr. A beat me and he's 61. That does give me some hope though that there's still some time to improve.

The best part of the race was listening to the crew yell at other racers (and each other). This, crew, group, pack, or whatever you want to call them, are funny. The crap they come up with is, well, you really have to hear some of it to appreciate it. At the end of the day I had another perfect day to look back on. I've been fortunate to have quite a few of those lately.

We went back again Sunday for more abuse. Not as many crew riders there as Saturday. The course was changed to make it faster. I wasn't as pumped to race as I was the day before and B was showing signs of being tired also. Out of the 12 in the Men's C, B got 6th, and I got 7th. Yea he beat me. He's beaten my times in a XC race before but I think this is the first time he's beaten me in a heads up race. Anyhoo I'm proud of him.

I don't think I'll be buying a CX bike but I do think a couple of road bikes are in our future. I'd race this race again if it comes back next year just for the laughs. Mr A taught me a few things and got me fired up to improve my pedaling fitness.

That should be it for the racing until the Gone Riding Georgia State Series starts in April. Before that there's the Tour of San Felasco in January and the Amsterdam Ride (maybe race) in February.

Yes, that's a cupcake wrapper someone left in my shoe, complete with icing and sprinkles.

Strange

Halloween's a big time at our house. We've done something like this for the last 10 years. We have people show up early just to see if we're ready. We don't try to scare the little kids, it's the teenagers we have the most fun with. Even though they know it's coming we can still get them to jump. I keep thinking that B will lose interest as he gets older but look at me, 55 and still dressing up. Kinda weird huh?

On the cycling side we did a fam ride last Saturday at Forest Meadows. Then on Sunday B, TC, CC, and I rode Tom Brown. We just happened to run into a skills class at Piney Z and spent some time hanging out there. When TC goes and you run into someone to talk to your gonna spend a little time. It looked like 10-15 people came out for the class. I know I need a skills lesson but that was a little too basic even for me.

We then headed over to the Hill of Death so TC and the boys could try to climb it. It seems BJS had ridden up it before he had his most recent "issues" and TC was determined to give it a try. All three of them spent some time attempting to get to the top but never made it. I did hill repeats on the Jr. hill. It was good to watch the boys just mess around on their bikes. We tend to get into the habit of grinding out miles and don't spend near enough time playing.

The Higher Ground ride is growing. I thought when it got dark people would stop coming but just the opposite.

This weekend is the Cyclocross race in Tallahassee. B and I are tempted to race it. We'll see how the practice laps go tonight. It might be more fun just to watch. Even though every time I've done that I ended up wishing I'd raced.

I love this time of year.

It's already November. It'll be Christmas before you know it.

FSC San Felasco

Four of us went down to the San Felasco State Park near Alachua Fl. for the 5th round of the Florida State Championship Series promoted by Gone Riding. Four of us finished the race. Four of us did not win any medals. In fact we kind of stunk it up. Oh, I was happy with my performance. I'm always ready to accept mediocrity when it comes to my racing but the other members of the group must have had higher expectations.

PP, PJ, B, and I drove down on Saturday for a couple of laps of practice. The weather couldn't have been better. The hilly section called Conquistador had been removed and more open field added. While this made the trail easier it also made it faster. When you got done it was like, yea, that was fun, but a little boring. The downhills in the woods got sketchy at race pace with all the roots but other than that it was easy. We went back home Saturday night.

Sunday was another perfect day. 45 degrees in the morning but warming up to the low 80's by the afternoon. B and PJ raced the white wave which went off at 9:30. As PP and I waited for them to make their first lap I could tell by B's position (near the back), and the expression on his face, that he wasn't having a good ride. He finished 6th out of 9. Seems his rear brake was dragging since right after the first downhill. We later found out he had not installed his rear wheel correctly. Ah the lessons we must learn.

PJ finished 10th out of 13. He rides faster than that when he rides with me. I think it has something to do with the camo kit.

PP and I raced at 11:30. I got off to a slow start, right behind SteveA. I thought if I could just keep him in sight for the first lap I had a chance to get into the top 5. He put a rider between us on the first climb in the fields, then on the downhill side he got by another one. I settled in behind a guy I raced against in the base class last year and just tried to get my heart rate down.

As soon as we got to the first single tract the lead group disappeared. I just wasn't ready to go that fast in the trees. Yes, I was chicken. So much for following SteveA. I have trouble when I get behind someone, I tend to tell myself that his pace is as fast as I can go. In other words I just get lazy. I followed this guy the whole first lap then dropped him after the finish line.

Midway through the second lap I caught a glimpse of an orange Niner ahead. This guy had finished ahead of me at Tallahassee. The chase was on. The chase didn't last long. I got on his wheel on one of the climbs, he turned around, saw my number, and dropped me. To add insult to it another rider in my class had been sneaking up on me while I had been sneaking up on Niner. He went past me and managed to put a couple of 40+ guys between us. Once again I followed them like a lost dog.

I rode most of the last lap all by myself. It's hard to push when no ones around. I finished 6th out of 9. SteveA got 3rd again. I'm really starting to hate that guy. On the bright side I felt good after the race.

PP came in after the finish with a scowl on her face. Seems she had picked up Spanish moss in her cassette, twice. Now what are the odds of that? 300 bikes rode over that trail before her and she finds the only two pieces of unattached moss? Really? Anyhoo she finished 5th out of 6. The "Moss Princess" has had this problem before. She could have easily gotten 4th if not for those evil trail gnomes that keep throwing stuff in her cassette.

Even with the poor results we had a good weekend. Super Cool bike shop fed us burgers and dogs both days. After riding, sitting in the shade, in the middle of that beautiful pasture, eating my burger, listening to the music, I realized just how damn good we've got it.

2.5 Pounds

Man, the weekend started out great As a matter of fact, the whole weekend turned out great. I got a good checkup from my doctor on Friday. I was feeling sooooo good I just had to go to Oscars (located in beautiful downtown Havana) and reward myself with a Paginolia (sp?) sandwich, with pasta salad, and pound cake for dessert. Of course I started it off with a couple of Rolling Rocks and added a Peroni with the meal just for good measure. I know that was a little bit much but I thought I'd burn it off the next day at the Dirty Spaghetti.

Saturday morning I had my usual pre race bagel, then nothing but gels and water until we finished the 62 mile ride. A couple of Rolling Rocks after the ride and I was very relaxed as we rolled down to the community center for the after ride meal of spaghetti. I piled the noodles on, dumped a shovel full of sauce, two pieces of bread, another beer from PJ, and the end piece of red velvet cake. You know, the one that has the icing on two sides. I don't know how you make a meal for 400 people and still get it that good.

I don't want to do a ride report. Suffice to say I had let my mouth get away from me earlier and had to eat a post ride meal of crow to go with my spaghetti, courtesy of BW. The after ride antics were worth all the pain though. It was pretty plain that we had more fun at our table than any body else.

Back at the house, after a little nap, I settled in for some college football. Of course I had to have some wings and onion rings to go along with the game. And damn if somebody didn't buy a bag of Reeses and leave them where I could see them in the fridge. I waddled off to bed.

Sunday morning I was sore but believe it or not still hungry. Coffee, juice, and a bacon bagel started it off. Then the same person that bought the Reeses baked some kind of a creamy cheesey pastry. I devoured three slices before we went for an easy ride with the crew. After the ride we did the mandatory lunch at Tropical Smoothie. Then grilled scallops for dinner. Oh yea, I left out the half bottle of wine I drank while cooking the scallops.

You see where this is going? You know where it ended up. Yea, 2.5 pounds up from Friday morning. I'm lucky it wasn't 5 pounds. If I hadn't burned those 4500 calories at the Spaghetti it would have been. I started cutting back Monday and managed to drop a half of a pound. That means by the weekend I just may be back to normal. But it's a lite riding week due to the FSC bike race next weekend in Gainesville. Plus it's raining Tuesday night so I'll miss my regular ride. That means two nights in the gym. You just can't burn much off in there. So before you know it it'll be Friday.

Just in time to start all over again. Ain't life grand?

The Mature Rider

That's what I ought to call the blog. I'd read blogs from other mature riders (if I could find some). I search magazines for articles on training and diet for older....., well what should I call us, older athletes just doesn't sound right. Older riders only covers some of us. How about active older people? Nah, that's really lame. Ok, how does mature active person sound (M. A. P.)? There are magazines dedicated to MAPs but I've found them to be uninteresting (Geezer Jock comes to mind). My regular cycling magazines have articles on diet and training but rarely focus on the MAP. Hey, we have special needs. Don't giggle.



Rarely do I see articles showing somebody who is older than 30 doing the prescribed exercise. I know most readers don't want to look at shriveled up old farts doing push ups but there is a segment of customers who would like to know that people over 45 can and should be doing this kind of stuff. I just finished reading about the Governor of New Mexico, he's 55 and just finished his third Iron Man. He's also an avid mountain biker having done the Leadville 100 this year and finished. Then there's Ned Overend who continues to trounce riders 20 years younger than him in the XC nationals. How do these guys prepare? What mistakes have they made?


Seriously, I think this is an overlooked demographic. We (MAPs) have a little more disposable income at this stage in our lives. For some the kids are out of the house so they have more time. Cycling is the perfect sport for MAPs. Once you get over the initial learning curve and build up some fitness you should be able to do it for years (at least I hope so).


Take the 50+ expert class in the Gone Riding races. Those guys have to be dedicated. I wonder what their training regime is. I'm pretty sure you don't train the same at 55 as you did at 25. I need to find a coach who specializes in MAP training. I wouldn't necessarily do what they said but it would be interesting to know what I was missing.


That's another question that often pops into my head. How much am I willing to give up to improve my riding? How about you? I could stand to lose 5 pounds. Should I give up beer? I already eat very few sweets but I love potato chips. Oh and fries. And Mexican food. Vodka, well of course. Nutter Butters, but they give those out at the Tour de Felasco so they must be ok. See what I mean? That's just the diet; how about the extra hours I should be on the bike? This doesn't even begin to cover my immense lack of skills. Would it all be worth it to have the chance to beat SteveA? Then, on the off chance I started getting on the podium, I would just get promoted to the expert class. That would mean another lap at the races.

Is it even possible to improve very much once you pass 50? Or am I just titling at windmills.

Oh the heck with this, I'm going to get another beer and watch Mad Men on the DVR.

Hell's Trails

The first lap is always scary. Steep drop offs, short runs to climbs with little lips at the top, and rocks every where. Hailes Trails outside of Gainesville is not my cup of tea. B loves this type of technical riding so we picked up PP and PJ on a cool (finally) breezy Saturday morning and headed South. You would have thought it was 30 below by the coat PJ had on. I mean really, this guy's from the great white North and he's wearing a parka suitable for snow.


As we turned in the gate to Hailes I could hear the roar of the moto tribe next door as they practiced on Gatorback. Just hearing it made me nervous. I had first ridden that track way back in 1974. Back then we turned in the gate in a green Ford van with green shag carpeting listening to Grand Funk "We're an American Band" on the 8 track. It's hard to believe that 37 years later I'm still torturing myself on these rocks.


Anyhoo, back in 2011, it was what you'd call a perfect day weather wise as we unloaded the bicycles. B and PJ took off in front of PP and I. I knew when PP unclipped and walked the first downhill we were in for a long lap. It went like that for the next 45 minutes. Either she walked a section or I did. On the next lap things went better. I got to see PJ do a little endo in a section I had been walking and I was able to clear most of the stuff I'd walked over the first lap. When we got back to the EZ-up some more of the Tallahassee crowd had arrived. Gone Riding had set up the sound system, the temperature was 70 degrees, someone popped open a beer, the songs were something I liked, so I just sat in my chair, and enjoyed the afternoon. I wish days like this would last just a little longer.


Sunday we met BW at the Lines Tract trails over on Lake Talquin for a spirited 18 mile ride. I keep saying this but it bears repeating. This is a fun trail system. Not to mention scenic. There's even a fish camp restaurant within riding distance right on the lake. TMBA camped here a couple of years ago and I suggest we do it again.



Fall is finally here. So many places to ride before the holidays get here and swallow up time. I have a friend that says the best time of the year is ruined by Thanksgiving and Christmas. I'm not quite that cynical (yet) but I'm getting closer.

The Vineyard and Miccosucki

I like it when rides start lining up early in the week for the following weekend. I'm a little O. C. D. when it comes to planning and like to know what and where by Friday night so I can relax knowing I've got plenty of pedaling lined up.

With a few of the regular crew out of town the trail Yoda/ BW was kind enough to call me and see what we had planned for the weekend. I'm usually at the bottom of his invite list and feel honored just to be allowed to tag along. So imagine how surprised I was when he actually called me to see if we had plans for Saturday. He had a route in mind starting from Joe's and heading east. I was hoping we would go over to the Lines tract but like I said it's so rare I get a personal invitation I jumped at his offer.

I let PP and PJ know what our plans were and we agreed to meet at Joe's at 8:30. I question the sanity of going to what I consider downtown Tallahassee to begin a MTB ride but I had never been on this particular route so I was looking forward to it. A local rockstar decided to grace us with his presence not to mention his amazing wheelie skills. So we set off through the sleepy neighborhoods over to Fern, through Tom Brown, over to the vineyard off of Mahan, then onto the Miccosocee Greenway, back down Blairstone, onto Fern again, then back to Joe's.

The only sketchy parts were the four lane road crossings. PP decided to use the middle of Blairstone as a bull ring and cut me off, forcing me to unclip and almost dump it on the concrete median. I'm pretty sure she did it on purpose as I could hear her laughing as we crossed the Digestive Disease Center parking lot.

We ended up with 27 miles for the day and grabbed lunch at El Jalisco. Unfortunately for us and any patrons sitting close, PP and PJ wore their riding kits to lunch. But in a Mexican restaurant the smell just kind of blended in. PP, that's what you get for the take out maneuver.

Sunday we joined a large group for the Dirty Spaghetti (which takes place October 15th) pre ride starting from the school in Micosuckee and going to Thomasville Ga. and back using mostly clay roads. I got to ride with a lot of people I don't normally ride with. I don't remember much about the scenery since most of the time I was just looking at the wheel of the rider in front of me. 38 miles at 15.5 mph average may not seem like much but I was pretty whipped at the end.

Neither Blake nor I got all of our chores done around the house since both days we just came home and fell asleep on the couch. I'm lucky to have such an awesome, beautiful, and understanding wife who doesn't mind letting me feed my cycling addiction. When I got the first "how was your weekend?" question at the office Monday, all I could say was "awesome". To which she replied "wow, sounds like it was better than mine". I'm pretty sure it was.

P. S. no, I don't know how to spell Micosocee and I'm too lazy to go look it up.

Unfounded Fears

I'm a wimp, I admit it right up front. I'm scared of pain, scared of crashing, and even scared being scared. On a recent ride I fully exposed my list of fears to my fellow riders. The only response I got was something to the effect of "you'd think somebody who used to race moto wouldn't be afraid of a little root or log". Another kind piece of advice was "you'll be fine, you just need some more confidence" or something along those lines. They just don't understand.

It was the same in MX when it came to clearing new obstacles, mainly double jumps. I'll assume you know what a double jump is, the name's kind of self explanatory. They would build them just far enough apart so if you backed off just a little you'd nose dive into the landing jump. Not fun. Or if you did clear it, maybe you'd clip your rear wheel on the landing jump, thus sending you head over heals. I thought about these things every time I lined up to do one. In fact I'd wake up early on race day in a cold sweat imagining the approach and what would happen if I failed.

I know that's negative thinking. I should picture myself flying off the take off and landing perfectly on the downslope. But I always thought about the crash instead. The root of all these problems goes back to my very first attempt to clear a double. Waaaaaay back in 1983 I entered a MX race in Milton Fl. I had a Yamaha 125 and absolutely no business racing MX. I'd only raced a couple of off road races before, how hard could it be?

This was the first double the track owner had ever built. I remember it being not much of a gap but deep, kind of like jumping a ditch. It was hard to roll it and dangerous since you ran the risk of getting jumped on. On the first lap of my first moto I was in the back of the pack as I came around to the jump. The only thing I remember is twisting the throttle and pulling back on the bars. The next thing I know track workers are gathered around me while I tried to breathe. The flagger said I looped over backwards and landed on my butt from about 6 feet in the air. I walked away eventually but it was weeks before I could take a breath without wincing.

Anyhoo, there you have it. I went on to clear some doubles but I never got comfortable with it. It's really amazing I participate in anything remotely dangerous. The point of all this old man rambling is that I have 2 obstacles that have buffaloed me when it comes to MTBing. If you know me you know what they are. They have both been cleared by almost everyone I know. But that doesn't help my fear. I can picture rounding the corner, gathering speed, lining up for the best line, pulling up on the bars, annnnnnnnnd plowing face first into the ground. I tell myself "this is the day I hit it" and then find some lame excuse to back off.

The only positive side of this is I've been able to enjoy some fairly dangerous sports for a long time (I raced my first moto off road race in 1974). I can still get out of bed in the morning without groaning and my list of broken bones is very short (so far, I don't like to tempt fate). But still I have a little panic when I think about that spot on Cadillac or that section on Red Bug. Some things never change. But you know what they call somebody with no fear? An ambulance.

Edict

My first sport class Florida State MTB race was hard. I know I say that after every MTB race and I guess that's because every race is hard. This one had me almost passing out at the finish. Poor hydration (again), pushing too hard at the beginning to keep Steve in sight, and riding the 3 days prior to the race all contributed to my list of excuses. I had hoped the new bike would magically enable me to stay on Steve's wheel, but alas that was not the case. Plus the seating position on the Felt is more aggressive than my Stumpjumper and this caused some back and hand discomfort that I was not accustomed to. Wow, I do have a lot of excuses don't I?

Maybe it wasn't a good idea to ride the new bike, but how could I not ride it? I should have taken a few days off before the race like I normally do but could you really just let that brand new toy sit in the shop?

Anyhoo enough with the whining. I got 6th out of 17 in the old man sport class. I didn't leave anything on the trail. The bike handled flawlessly. I dropped my Endurolyte pills while trying to open the bottle on the second lap. I almost crashed twice drinking from my water bottle. In the future I'll run a Camelback and some sort of liquid electrolyte mix in a bottle. I cramped on the last lap and almost didn't make it around the BMX track at the finish. The heckling from the BC gallery helped me ride through the pain.

I know that's not much of a race report. I could go into a little more detail such as I was on 4th place's wheel until we climbed out of Kudzilla on the second lap, then I lost touch with him. 5th place didn't catch me until I sat up on Magnolia on the last lap. I guess since it was our home race and we ride that trail all the time there doesn't seem like there's that much to say.

Blake had a good ride. I try not to brag on my kid but I was proud of the way he went after this race. In the 15-18 class there's not any distinction between base, sport, or expert so they all race together. He came around on the first of his two laps in second place. He lost two spots on the last lap and ended up 4th. Since this class is the future of MTB racing I had hoped they would trophy back to 5th, however they only went to 3rd. Higher Ground stepped up and gave him prize money anyway.

Speaking of Higher Ground they treated us like factory riders for the day. Donuts and bagels for breakfast. After race hot dogs. I saw them fix all kinds of bikes for free and they worked all day Saturday on the skills track.

Even with all my excuses it was still a great weekend.

Rain

I don't sit around very well. After a great ride at Tom Brown and getting to watch the college kids race on Saturday I was hoping the forecast for Sunday was wrong. It wasn't. I finished a book, cleaned the shop, and then stared out the back door as it flooded. Is it the endorphins I'm hooked on? Why do I crave riding my bicycle? I watched another episode of Mad Men.

It was too wet to do any yard work. Blake had a loud game going on the PS 3 and I hadn't seen him in hours. I stared out the front door. I watched a little football. I really wanted to ride. In the past it never failed to rain the weekend I brought home a new dirt bike. I expect the new bicycle won't be in till later in the week so I hope fate just missed it by a weekend.

I went back out to the shop and decided to put some of the old moto trophies away. Why I didn't just throw them in the garbage can I'll never know. They're just cheap gaudy plastic trophies that take up a lot of room. I can't even remember the specific race where I won some of them. Sometimes I would get a trophy for first place even if just 3 riders showed up. Such is life in the moto 45 plus world. Wow, you actually rode motocross old man, here's a trophy. I stuck them in the rafters.

I threw away a whole box of Honda parts. Grips, brake levers, and assorted stuff I couldn't identify. As I was digging through the box I found a couple of pictures from the Alligator Enduro that took place in Daytona during bike week every year. One was dated 1996, man 15 years ago? That race was cool, kind of like a national. All the pros were there, it ran on Thursday and had a 500 rider cap that sold out every year. It wasn't a very fun trail but was always a challenge. We usually rented an old house in the Ocala National Forest for most of the week so all I had to do after the race was drink a margarita and head for the woods. Good times!

It was still raining. I was feeling old.I grabbed a beer and turned on a little music. Maybe it won't rain tomorrow.

Lust

I want one and I know it makes absolutely no sense at all. I went through the same thing every year in my moto days. Trying to rationalize the purchase of a new toy. My current Stumpjumper bicycle is fine. It does everything I need it to (except hop the root on Cadillac). It may be a little on the heavy side compared to what the other guys in the crew ride but not by much.

Still the seed has been planted.

First a little science lesson. There's a part of our brain called the Reticular Activating System, RAS for short. Once your RAS gets focused on something it has the ability to convince the rest of your brain that you really need it. It's amazing the rationalizations you can come up with once you get your RAS focused. Of course you can get focused on good things or bad things so be careful. As for me, I'm focused on a new bike.

I will admit it's a wake up call to think about spending money and how it will effect retirement. Really, am I at that point already? I tell myself all the usual things, you only live once, this may be the last chance to have a bike like this, just delay retiring for a couple of years, and what's wrong with community college for the kid. Then my RAS speaks up,"Think how much fun it will be to ride, how amazingly fast you'll be, you might even be able to stay up with Steve if you get one". Oh it's all so tempting to believe.

When you're young you just do these things. Time stretches out in front of you so far you don't even think about it ending. Ahh but sometime in your 50's you wake up one day and realize there may not be that much time left. "All the more reason to buy it NOW" my RAS says. Will you just shut up!

I've got the bike in my sights and my finger on the trigger. "Pull it!" says RAS. I'm so weak.

Humbled

After Saturday that's how I felt. Humbled and tired. As I stood in the pouring rain, having just finished the Fools Gold 50 mile mountain bike race, in Dahlonega Ga. I didn't think I'd ever want to do that again. That was hard, one of the 5 hardest things I've ever done on 2 wheels. Even sitting here in my nice cool office I can close my eyes and see those trails going up, and up, and up. Then down, so steep my arms almost cramped from gripping the bars so tight. To top it off it was 53 miles instead of 50. Which doesn't seem like a big deal unless you've been watching your odometer for the LAST 10 MILES, thinking you only had to ride 50! Of course the last 3 were all up hill, on pavement, and in the rain.

Does it sound like I didn't have a good time? Quite the contrary, I had a blast. The crew I went with were perfect traveling companions. Except for not setting up the tent like they were supposed to and then sitting in the warm dry truck while I stood, shivering, muddy, and wet, in the driving cold mountain rain. I can still see Jim's smiling face through the windshield every time the wipers went "swish". But you know, they were faster than me, (much faster) so I guess they deserved to be comfortable. You'd think an older gentleman like myself would catch a break every now and then wouldn't you? I've been called worse; but "Mr. Norman" by the people you've just been riding with? That doesn't seem right.

I love road trips where somebody else tells me when and where we're going. I like big groups at dinner, beers and margaritas, funny stories, and of course, being in the mountains. I knew that by today I'd be ready to do it again. The pain has a way of fading from memory and the good times surface. I learned a lot about hydration and eating during events of this length. I had not been doing it right and the Endurolyte (sp?) pills really helped with keeping the cramps away.

Jim gets carded at dinner.

Only 28 old guys (50+) started the race. I finished 13th. I don't think I could do much better. I could walk Sunday and felt fine. I like only having to think about racing my bike, where we're going to eat, and the way the first beer will taste after the ride. You can feel the adult responsibilities slowly settle back on your shoulders when you get home. That's when you start looking forward to next year.

I Don't Know About This

Steve A. looked skeptical as I told him I was going out for another lap of the Silk Torture Loop at Forest Meadows last Saturday. We had both done around 36 miles and, of course, he had completed his a half hour faster than I had. "It's awful hot to be doing this the week before a 50 mile race" he cautioned. Mark, Brian, Don, and Paul had already packed it in by this time. I should have listened to Steve A.

We were preparing for the Fools Gold race in Dahlonega Ga. which is this weekend. The temperature was 97 degrees and the loop had about as much elevation change as you can get in Tallahassee Fl. Jim, Steve A., and Rick had left us behind quickly after the sight in lap and after the first full lap I was riding alone. I had decided to run water bottles instead of my usual Camelback even though I knew from experience I didn't drink enough with just bottles. I had my heart monitor plugged in so I could watch my heart rate and not go out too hard. I had gels and other space type eats stuffed in my jersey pockets. I had let the faster guys go and so I didn't get sucked into their pace. I thought I was prepared.

At that 36 mile mark I had stopped at my truck to refill my water bottles. One pair of gloves was soaked and I was working on another. I had drained 2 full bottles that lap compared to only one the first lap. I was tired, but I have to admit that seeing Steve A. had stopped gave me a little inspiration to go on. You see, Steve A. is a very competitive rider. He's beaten me at every event we have entered and he's the only one in the crew who is even close to my age. So I'll be damned if I was gonna drop out.

As you finished the first half lap of Red Bug there was a little hill you had to climb to get back to the multi use. It was only two miles from my truck; 38 miles into the ride. As I got to the top of the climb both thigh muscles cramped. And I mean they locked up. I should have turned around and gone back. Heck I should have listened to Steve A. and not even started that lap. Instead I figured they would work themselves out on the down hill. Wrong again. By the time I made it back to Red Bug I was pushing up some of the climbs.

When I got back to the truck everyone else except Blake had gone. He rolled in a half hour later, no cramps, and having done a full 50 miles. We had missed the planned after ride lunch as I think everyone else had.

After I got home I started re hydrating, elevated my legs, and cramped so bad I couldn't get up off the couch. Blake thought it was sooooo funny as I yelled and hopped around trying to get the muscle to let go. The next day I could barely walk.

With some good advice regarding supplements and post cramp rides I am feeling much better (I know you were concerned). Maybe just maybe, I'm not as awesome as I think I am. After all I'm not 45 anymore. I really thought I had ruined my Fools Gold trip. They say there's no fool like an old fool and I usually prove that right.

Temperature in the mountains this weekend looks like it will be at least 10 degrees cooler than here. I have bottles and packets of pills to ward off the evil crampage. I will take my Camelback and drink all the time. I will take it easy on the big climb after the start. I'm sure there will be a few rock gardens and shelf trail that will cause me to squeal like a girl. I will have a good time. I am so pumped!

On the Way Down?

I was talking to a 65 year old XC racer at the last Gone Riding event about what it would take for me to stay in the saddle for another 10 years. The first thing he said was "good parents". He said he trained as hard and rode as much at 65 as he did at 55. "At about 58 I noticed I was using just as much energy, riding just as hard, but going slower". "Nothing I did made any difference in my speed".



So there it is. I have three more years to try and improve until I start the slide back down. I know everybody's different. I know that what happened to him has no bearing on my future. Still it got me thinking. If you're under 50 you probably have never thought about not being able to improve. Heck, maybe you don't even want to improve. Yea, maybe that's the attitude! Just enjoy the ride. Why do some of us think we have to always get better? Do more? Go faster? Can't we just enjoy the simple pleasures of riding through the woods? What possess me, when I see a rider ahead, to try and catch him? Most of the time he (or she) is at least 10 years younger than I am. In the grand scheme of things does it really make a difference? Apparently it does to me.



We had another Dirty 30 last Sunday morning. I should have been in church like BJS was. Instead I lined up for our "group ride" at a secret location. It was hot and muggy. LiL Ball said "go" and off we rolled. Just like in the paragraph above whenever someone passed me or lapped me I tried harder. It hurt, you know how it feels. Why would I put myself through this? The only person who was there that was anywhere near my age was WB and he's still 7 years younger than me. What makes us want to do this to ourselves? When it was over there were smiles all around.


Last night at the Higher Ground ride only the fast guys showed up. It was red lined from the time we crossed the rail road tracks. They dropped me like a hot potato. Why do I care? I shouldn't. They're all younger, faster, and just plain better cyclists than I am. So why at 55 do I even think I can keep up?


I have an answer. It's because when I ride, I mean when I'm really into the ride, I don't think I'm 55. All I think about is the ride.

So should we try to mentally prepare ourselves for the downward spiral? Will we even notice it? It will come to all of us eventually if we do this long enough. Is acceptance the healthiest way to go? I guess you would never have to worry about it if you didn't participate in any type of physical sports.

Anyhoo try not to look at me so funny when I pull up and complain about how fast you've gotten. It may not be you. I just might be on the way down.

The Fifty

I had done something similar to this route in July of last year but only ended up with 40 miles. I really wanted to see how 50 would hurt and I HATE riding around in circles. So I got on Google Earth and mapped out a mostly off road ride in the Apalachicola National Forest. Since this isn't B's type of ride I coaxed him out of the notion of going by talking about all the sand and long graded roads this ride would have; in truth, I kind of wanted to do this alone anyway.

After our mountain trip I had taken Stumpy to the shop to solve a squeak that had been driving me crazy (they call it Normanizing). Unfortunately they came back with the dreaded "couldn't duplicate the problem" so within a mile of me leaving the St. Marks trail head at 7:30 am, of course, it started squeaking again. What? I have to listen to this for the next 5 hours? I tried to remain calm and convince myself this was all part of the mental test. So I plugged in my MP3, turned up the volume and continued down Munson.

I had filled my Camelback, plus a bottle of water, and had planned on filling up at the Trout Pond trail head. Two Stinger Waffles, a pack of gel, two packs of Shot Blocks, and a Cliff bar was all the food I took. Since I'm planning on doing Fools Gold in a couple of weeks I thought I would see how much I needed to eat over the 4-5 hours I'd be pedaling and I assumed this would be plenty.

After riding a portion of Munson, I took a FS road across the Crawfordville highway, and stayed on that until I came to a power line I recognized from my moto days. There I picked up an old Enduro trail which even after not being used for at least 5 years I was still able to follow. In fact, it looked like it had recently been marked and some of the downfall cleared. It was sort of single track, not soft at all, and was headed in the general direction I wanted to go. After a little bushwacking I popped out on LL Wallace Rd., turned east, crossed Springhill Rd., picked up Tom Roberts Rd. and started wiggling south toward the old Helen Guard work center. Here I started noticing how soft the roads felt, even on the little downhills I had to pedal to maintain forward momentum. It looked like it had rained on this section the night before so dry sand wasn't a problem but wet sand was another issue.

At the south end of the Trout Pond trail, at a place we used to call Brown House, I ran into a couple of my old moto buddies getting ready to ride. The USFS has been particularly crappy to motorized users lately and they have been forced onto less and less trail. To add insult to that they couldn't even get on at their regular trail head due to a bunch of horses unloading that morning. Why the horsey people go to a moto trail head to ride is beyond me. Anyhoo I left them trying to get a two stroke 250 started (no I don't miss it) and turned up the brand new, fully paved, aluminum barriered, Trout Pond hiking and biking trail. This trail is an excellent example of how the USFS wastes tax payer dollars but I don't feel like hashing that out right now. At the trail head there were new bathrooms, covered picnic tables, paved parking, a traffic survey, but no people. I ate my Stingers, checked my map, but didn't think I needed to refill my water. You do know that was a mistake don't you?

Once I started heading west it started getting hot. No shade, soft roads, and a sore butt were making me a little ill. My water in my Camelback was bath water hot by now and it seemed like all the roads were up hill. This was about 2.5 hours into the ride so I made a mental note to expect a little wall at about that time and hoped it would get better.

I rounded the northern most section near Silver Lake at 3.5 hours. I was averaging better than 11 miles per hour which I know is slow but hey, I'm old ya know. Anyway, it was hard to set a faster pace by myself. At 4 hours I was hungry. I had eaten everything except the Cliff bar, drained my Camelback, and started on my water bottle (which was also hot). I sat on the side of the road and stared at that Cliff bar, then at my water bottle. It's not like I was going to starve to death so I figured it would take more water to get the bar down than it was worth.

I went east along the same path I had started out on. When I got back to the Munson trail I continued around till I got to the Tall Pine cutoff. I had 48 miles by this time, I was hot, and out of water. I took the shortcut.

When I got back to my truck I had 50.16 miles on my Garmin, had ridden 4:28, and averaged 11.2 mph. Not that much of an adventure but something different.

I learned:

That whether you feel good or bad it will pass.

I need more food and more water for that amount of time on the bike in 97 degree weather.

I like these kind of rides.

50 miles in the mountains is going to be very difficult for me.

I got cleaned up, went by the shop, and dropped Stumpy off (it was the shock squeaking I think). There I grabbed a Monster energy drink and sat on the couch. After I figured I had tortured them enough I headed over to Tijuana Fats for a couple of tacos and then home. The rest of the day was spent in that pleasant haze of having done something (for me anyway) that was kind of hard.

I'd like to take more folks with me next time if anybody would like to go. Or maybe you know a route in the ANF? I know the scenery's not great and the single track isn't challenging but there's not much traffic and it's almost all on dirt. What do ya think?

Because I Can't Help It

I guess the bear stands out more than anything. We got to our cabin Monday evening and just chilled out on the deck. The wind in the pines and the view were unreal. Sometime around 5:30 am T said "something's outside". I went to the plate glass windows in the front, turned on the flood lights, and I heard T say "oh my gosh it's a bear". Sure enough, roaming around like it owned the place was a large black bear. It checked out the hot tub and then walked up to the front door like a dog that wanted to be let in. I grabbed the camera, took it's picture, and then yelled at it. It just looked at me. Finally I guess it had had enough and lumbered to the edge of the porch, climbed over the railing, and dropped off. It had managed to violate the "bear proof garbage cans" and had scattered trash all over the back porch. Needless to say I always opened the door and looked around before I went out to have my morning cup of coffee.

Tuesday morning we rode the Thompson and Mouse trails at Tsali. They had recently been redone and were in excellent shape. T and her new Cannondale did great on Thompson and held up till about 3/4 of the way through Mouse, then she bonked. We ended the day with dinner at the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC) overlooking the river.

Wednesday we were back at the NOC for our rafting excursion. It seemed harder than last year. This is usually a laid back float but we were working from the launch. Not more than 5 minuets into the trip I hear a splash and look around just in time to see T swimming back toward the boat. B and I didn't laugh (at least not right then). The rest of the trip was uneventful. I have gotten to really enjoy that float. Thursday we drove up to Newfound Gap in the Great Smokey Mountains National Park to hike the Appalachian Trail to Charlie's Bunion and back. It's an 8 mile round trip with plenty of climbing. I got a little freaked out on the actual rock overlook but it was well worth the hike. I had brought rain coats for T and I. B being 15 and smarter than I am elected not to bring one. I remember hearing something about "only a 30% chance of rain". Well guess what? It flooded. It was cold. Some of the best lessons in life are learned the hard way aren't they?
I love the mountains.