Knock on Wood

I had just gone by Graham (who was stinking up the Cat 3s), had just passed 2nd place, and was catching first.  It was the second day of the Swampcross in Gainesville Fl., and the 4th out of what would be 7 laps.  The approach to the barriers had a tricky chicane.  The barriers were 2 2X12s stacked on top of each other and held up with re bar, and there were two of them in a row. 

Not me

Needless to say they were more substantial than the PVC barriers we used at the Gators practice facility.  I had had issues with these evil obstacles the day before so I should have been more aware.  But I had trophy lust, I was passing people, I was feeling "it".  I felt so awesome, until my foot clipped the first barrier.  I stumbled, in slow motion I saw the second barrier approaching.  I could not get my feet under me.  I landed on the second barrier on my knees.  This had the effect of increasing the speed of my upper body, which was still holding the bike.  My right arm and then my nose contacted the well compacted Florida soil.

I can remember the thudding sound my mouth made when it hit.  My first thought was my teeth, did I still have all of them?  From years of crashing in moto I jumped right up, you always did that so you didn't get landed on, not really a problem in a bike race though.  I ran my tongue around the inside of my mouth, everything was still where it should be.  Then I felt the dribble of liquid running down my lip, I looked down to see little red drops hitting my top tube.  A 352 rider who was practicing the course asked me if I was ok, then asked me if I had all my teeth.  I nodded and tried to get back on my bike only to find the chain had come off.  I was a little befuddled so he helped me get it back on and sent me on my way.

I had lost 2 positions, my knees hurt, my lip was bleeding, but I could see 3rd place not far ahead.  When I went by Ric he said "go! ohhhh" so I knew it must look bad.  I managed to finish 3rd in my class.  Won a great pair of socks. 

As I lounged on the grass after the race, holding an ice pack to my ever growing lip, and munched on a cheese quesadilla, my good friend BJS brought me a beer.  He was smiling as he leaned over to give me the solo cup filled with ice cold IPA.  He started to giggle when the cup slipped from his grasp.  Only a small amount of liquid fell on me, until he grabbed it again, squeezing it, and dumping the remaining beer all over me.  He claims it was an accident but I'm not so sure.  I swear he was laughing before the first spill.

Some would say I was lucky not to get hurt worse, of course if I was really lucky I would'nt have fallen in the first place.  Anyhoo, it was still a great weekend.  Tim won on Saturday, Ric won on Sunday, BJS went 4-2 on the weekend, and I can still eat an apple.

One Day

I admit I'm going to miss cross practice.  I like getting there while it's still light and hammering out a few laps.  It's weird, on the MTB I can't stand running lap after lap of the same thing, but on the cross bike I get some kind of perverse pleasure in trying to hit the same corner 10 times.

The new wheels could have something to do with that.  They took a whole pound off the bike.  Plus being tubeless allows me to run low pressure which makes the ride a little smoother.  Old guys need smooth.

I don't really know how it works but I turned on the Strava app on my phone before I rode last week.  Low and behold when I opened it up later that night I had second place on the gator cross loop.  It seems kind of suspicious, there's a lot of really good cyclists behind me (including BJS).  I must have cut the course or something.  But hey, it was worth it to call BJS while he was on vacation and inform him of my superiority.  Even though it will be short lived.

I started a new OMTP this week.  After much research and advice from the old guard in Bike Chain I went with LW Coaching.  I don't know why I like this type of structure.  At my age you'd think the last thing I'd want was some tart telling me how much to exercise.  http://lwcoaching.com/

I've been watching my competitors from the Old Man's Class last year.  I've seen them on FB.  Don't you guys think I haven't been watching.  I see you out there winning races in the Florida Series Mr. Ham.  And did I see you mentioned in a trainers photo also?  And you Mr. FRSS, yea I got the invite to the Snake Gap Time Trial you did.  The only person I haven't seen much of is Santa.  I was really hoping you guys would sit around all winter eating sugar cookies and watching TV.  But noooooo, you have to get all in shape.  Bastards!

This weekend is the Swampcross in Gainesville.  I've never done this event before but everyone tells me it's fun.  I bet there's some juiced up 60 year olds on the line with me Saturday morning.  I'm looking forward to the pain.  Maybe one day I'll beat these guys.

 

 

 

 

 

On the Porch

Sitting on the porch at Joanie's in beautiful downtown Havana after a slow recovery ride on the CX bikes with BJS.  Three beers down on a 74 degree afternoon.  Watching the clouds go by.  I love this time of year.

The day before we had done a variation of what we call the Grapevine or Big East loop on MTBs.  Which was very similar to the loop we did the Friday after Thanksgiving.  BW did manage to change it up enough so it didn't seem like a repeat.  We started off at a moderate pace but after losing most of the group BJS made me hate him just a little coming back in on the Greenway.  We finished with free BBQ and free beer at Higher Ground.  I was tired.

Last night's ride was attended by an eclectic group.  Not the regular crew, though some of them were in attendance.  It made for an interesting, if not fast, (for me) ride.  There was drama, crashes, and getting lost.  I'd have to say I enjoyed it.  Maybe because all of those things happened to someone else.

I bought new wheels for the CX bike.  No, it doesn't make much sense to put lighter wheels on a bike I only race maybe 5 times a year, but  I couldn't help myself, all my friends had them.  I'd buy more stuff but there's this thing called Christmas coming up where I'm supposed to spend money on other people.  Shudder.

Anyhoo, the next race is the Gainesville Fl. Swampcross.  BJS and I are going.  At least he says he's going. 

It's time to start getting into XC shape, the first race of the Georgia Series is only 16 weeks away.  I hope to redeem myself after my 4th place series finish last year.  I'm still looking for the perfect coaching plan.  Maybe something that requires beer after long rides.

But until then I hope to have more days on the porch.

Just remember;

Inside every old person there's a young person wondering what the hell happened.

Kneeling the Cross

 

I am converted!  Let me hear an AMEN!  That's right brothers and sisters.  I have had a conversion.  I will no longer grovel only at the mountain bike racing alter, I have seen the light!

I AM A CYCLOCROSS RACER!

Let me hear another AMEN.

Instead of looking for a new mountain bike I'm shopping for lighter wheels for my cross bike.  I find myself watching cyclocross videos from Europe.  In a language I don't even understand.  I have this strange urge to drink foreign beer.  Well, that's not really anything new.

It all started at the Tallycross race this past weekend.  The race was held on a private estate near Miccosukee.  I have to admit after riding the practice lap I was wishing for my mountain bike.  Blasphemy!  The course had some steep hills that I had to run up, plus some deep mud I also had to run across, but the rest was a blast to ride, not to mention pretty to look at.  I entered the Cat 4 class which is the beginner class.  After 30 minuets of pain I finished 5th.

 The Kid ran the Junior class and had a good race.  Unfortunately he was the only Junior in his age group.

 My conversion had begun.

 

Sunday.  The same course only the opposite direction.  This time I entered the 55+ class.  How perfect is that?  Cross has a class for old guys!  It was meant to be!  This time the race lasted 45 minutes so I planned to pace myself a little.  They ran us old guys with the 45+ and the Cat 3s, starting the 3s 30 seconds ahead of the rest of us.  Mr. Big Jim was in the 45+ class, sporting an ankle sock and a new excuse.  I could smell opportunity!

I started last, marking the only other 55+ rider and keeping him in sight.  At the first 180 degree turn my faith must have gotten weak.  The gravel under my front wheel rolled and I found myself on the ground.  I asked for forgiveness, jumped back on the bike, and tried to salvage something other than last place.  I did manage to pass a few of the 45+ riders, then it happened.  As I came around the pond a golden light shown through the trees, illuminating a rider standing beside the trail, I heard a heavenly chorus, it was JIM!  Not being a true believer, Jim had a flat tire.  He managed to beg forgiveness and a new wheel from neutral support but it was too late.  I was able to stay in front of him and catch and pass the other rider in my class.  Can you say HALLELUJAH?  Give me an AMEN!

As I approached the alter table after the race to collect the sacrament due me for my amazing performance, the light once again shown down.  There, on the ground, was my prize.  The holy grail of Cross, a six pack of foreign beer.

I plan to attend the service in Gainesville Fl. next month.  We will continue the self flagellation at Gator's practice track until then.

Go now, and may the peace of Cross go with you.

Nervous

I'm on my second cup of coffee but it's my third trip to the restroom.  Besides the fact that it's a function of getting old, I'm nervous, but also excited.  The dates for the Georgia State Series by Gone Riding are up!  Just four months until the first race.  Uh, excuse me, I gotta take another break.

Ahhh, I'm back.  Anyhoo, I can't believe it's time to start the OMTP again.  I'm tempted to find another type of program since I didn't end up on the box last year.  I just know it was the fault of the plan and not any shortcomings on my part.  Maybe I should change my diet?  How about learning to just get over a log?  Did I just type that?  For 56 (soon to be 57) I'll have to admit I'm pretty awesome but I still have room for improvement.  How about a new bike?  Oh yeah, that sounds good right there.  I have big wheel lust at the moment.  However the Kid has been putting the pressure on me for a new ride also.  But ya know, he's young, he's got plenty of years to get new bikes and race.  I however, may not have as much time.  There's a juicy rationalization.

Tallycross is this weekend.  I've been doing laps at Gator's CX Track.  And yes, it hurts.  But I find myself looking forward to it.  No, I'm not able to keep up with Jim.  Even after he eats a breakfast burrito before he rides. 

I tried yelling "burrito" every time I got close to him but it was to no avail.  Much to my disappointment he didn't puke. 

 

 

 

My only decision about the race this weekend is which class to ride.  The Cat 3 55+, or the Cat 4 open men's.  I'm concerned there may not be enough riders in the 55+ class and I'd have to race in the 45+ class with Jim.  I already know how that will turn out.  The Cat 4 is usually full of guys trying to sandbag, like me.  I'll see what it looks like on Saturday.

 

 

I bumped into a few old moto friends at the Supermoto race a couple of weeks ago.  Then last week I met up with a group who was trail riding just north of Havana.  I spent a lot of weekends with those guys over the years.  I do miss the people, but I don't miss moto.  Not yet.  The Kid says he'd like to do it again one day.  I could be tempted into getting a dual sport bike.  Then I watch while they unload.  Bikes and gear, all on trailers.  Then the apparel; helmet, neck brace, chest protector, jersey, hip pads, knee braces, pants, mx socks, boots, gloves, and goggles.  Fiddle with the bike, some start easy, some don't.  Take off for a 20 minute ride, come back in, sit down and shoot the bull for 30 minutes, fiddle with the suspension, then ride again (maybe).  I did it for 40 years and had a blast most of the time but there's not enough actual riding in it for me.  But I do admit to feeling a slight tug.

There's just not enough time to do everything is there?

Comes a Time

 

Halloween, my favorite holiday.  Yea I know it's not really a holiday, but it should be.  I mean we have Columbus Day right.  What did he really do?  And while I'm on this kick it should always be the last Friday of  October not in the middle of the week.

Anyhoo, this year was one of the better nights, even though it was on a Wednesday, we had more trick or treaters than in years past.  Here in my neighborhood in Beautiful Downtown Havana we don't necessarily have a large population of kids that are old enough to trick or treat so kids come from all over the town and the county.  We have gone all out for Halloween for the last 11 years and even if I do say so myself we out did ourselves this year.

 

 

I know it's weird, an old man rubbing zombie make up all over his face and chasing hay wagons full of children.  We don't scare the little kids (at least not on purpose).  The best group to scare is the teen agers.  We had a boy about 13 get spooked after getting his candy, run a little ways down the street, turn around, and say "Hey!  I'm Micheal Jackson, you don't scare me" then bust out in a perfect "Thriller" dance.  He was even dressed the part. 


Now onto cycling related stuff.

Photo by Hook Line and Sinker

Gator has mowed the cross track and we've been putting in laps getting ready for the Tallycross race on the 17th and 18th of November.  I put wider bars and better brakes on the Felt CX bike hoping to redeem myself for the whoppin I took last year.  If they have an over 55 beginner class I may have a chance.

 

Photo by Hook Line and Sinker

 

 

I am so awesome

It's time to bring the lights out for our weekly MTB rides.  I used to look forward to the first night rides of the year but not this time.  With the passing years my night vision gets worse.  Adding lights helps but I still have trouble judging distances.  Like the ones between trees.

The crew did a "tour of parks" ride last weekend.  The theme (you have to have a theme nowadays) was to hit as many parks as we could link together without riding stuff we've ridden before.  It worked ok, once we hit the park we'd take a lap around it on the CX bikes.  However Saturday morning isn't the best time to rail public parks.  I did get to see parts of Tallahassee I'd never seen before.  The highlight was the climb up the deserted parking garage, followed by the race down.

After our last weekend MTB ride we stopped by the new Higher Ground shop.  They've done an amazing job.  I almost feel uncomfortable there it's so nice.  The beer keg and leather couches in front of the big screen TV were calling me.

I stopped by the Supermoto race on Sunday and managed to run into a few of my old moto friends.  It was nice to catch up and watch a little racing.  The smell of race gas brought back good memories.  I'm starting to miss it a little.  That's a bad sign.

Carolina In The Pines

Yeah, I know it's not a pine tree

 

 

Friday afternoon it was granite climbing.  Which is kinda hard after 8 hours in the truck.  The effort was well worth it.  Dupont State Forest near Brevard North Carolina is almost heaven for the rider of an off road bicycle.  That's my opinion anyway and right now that's the only one that counts.  Using my unsurpassed woods guiding abilities I lead our little group of 6 up and down Burnt Mountain and then up and over Cedar Rock.  Of course we had to have Mexican food in town afterwards and beer.  Always beer.

Saturday was another day of "follow the old man" and we were able to ride all of the "fun stuff" I knew about on Dupont.  It was a perfect day, low 70's, the leaves were just starting to turn, and the trails were dry.  I tried to impress upon my younger cohorts that you don't get many perfect days like that and they should slow down a little and enjoy it.  I do like to take a little time to look at the woods while I ride.  You know, groove on nature and all that stuff.  But it was always "which way Magellan?" or "now where do we go from here?"  Kids nowadays, what can ya do?

Just kidding guys!

Sunday was our day in the Pisgah National Forest.  Cloudy, breezy, and some rain.  Like most days in the Smokies.  BJS was our guide for this trip.  Our first climb and descent was excellent (we only went a mile past the trail entrance).  I was afraid I wouldn't enjoy Pisgah but this trail had it all.  BJS got us a little lost on the next loop, of course that resulted in climbing 4 miles past the trail head.  But hey, he's not quite the Ranger Rick that I am.  He and Big T half wheeled themselves the whole way up.  When I got to the top I knew we (Jim) had screwed up.  He had the map out, which is a certain sign of desperation for him.

 

 

When we did find the trail head I noticed it was labeled Intermediate Difficulty.  It took off from the nice friendly gravel path we were on, up a steep clay bank, then disappeared into the trees.  Only Big T, BJS, and the Bearded Wonder tackled it.  I went on my own ride and had a perfectly lovely afternoon.  I'll let them tell you how theirs went.

 

 

I've taken these type of trips before in my moto days.  I was glad to see I am still able to irritate people to the point of insanity.  My ability to have one beer and suddenly become entertaining is a talent few posses.  I was in bed by 9:00 every night and up before dawn.  My companions did not appreciate my healthy sleep habits.  There were no fights and BJS only threatened to kick me out of the truck once.

I guess I should find people closer my own age to play with.

The Dirt on My Spaghetti

 

It wasn't a race.  So what was all the furor about?  Something about a jersey that said "World Champion".  If it wasn't a race how could there be a champion?  There were no timing chips, very few course markers, and no published rules.

Even knowing all that, plus the fact I had no hope of being in the front at the finish, I took off at the start like a dog chasing a squirrel.  My water bottle popped out on the first rough clay road.  Visions of Fools Gold danced through my head.  I still had another one but 62 miles in 85 degree weather was going to be hard if I didn't stop at all the sags. 

What in years past had been a pleasant roll through the south Georgia plantation country had turned into a blur of bikes, mud, and clay.  There were crashes, team tactics, and absent sag stops.  Unfortunately I only got to see about 18 miles of the "race" before I had had enough.  The Bearded Tree Hugger (BTH) who I had been following looked over at me as we tried for what must have been the fifth time to get back on and said "I'm about done, how bout you?".  "Screw em" I wheezed.  We then began our own version of the "race".  It still hurt.

The Bearded Tree Hugger sans shirt

I owe the BTH for taking almost all the pulls on the way in.  That being said I really didn't want to know the name of every freaking bird that chirped.

Anyhoo the after ride beers were great, as was the spaghetti.  Complaints?  Sure I always have a few.  The path to the lunch sag was not marked.  The last sag was not there (I was really counting on this one since I had only one bottle).  Orange spray paint on orange clay is not the best way to mark a course.

There seems to be quite a bit of interest in these "dirty" type of road rides.  I'd like to see some more pop up locally.  Of course you can only be "World Champion" once.

Clay

 

 

I love it.  Especially this time of year. 

 

 

What I really like though is to go where we haven't been before.  I want people to say "how do you know about these roads?".  I like to get a little lost.  It amazes me how you could have lived in Tallahassee all your life and never been to Fowlstown Ga., just 30 miles away.  So when I get to plan the ride I get all giddy.

Yea sure I get a little overzealous with the mileage when I lay out the route.  I may even lie just a bit about the roll time.  On the Fowlstown ride we did last weekend I may have agreed to 3.5 hours the night before.  Knowing full well BJS and I had done a similar ride and finished in 4.5. 

http://ridewithgps.com/routes/1630222

The Kid knew something was up when we were 2 hours in and still heading away from Beautiful Downtown Havana.  He looked at me skeptically and asked "how long is this ride supposed to be?" "Not too much further" I replied, "look at that view".   I began to hear rumblings from some of the crew.  It was after all a home game for FSU and someone had to get back and get prepared (means he had to start drinking).  Some body's foot was hurting.  Sometimes it's like riding with children.

 

 

I just kept pedaling and hollering out turns.  We found some mud, mean dogs, a cardboard box, and plenty of cotton fields.  The box caused a minor crash on a road section.  Funny how crashes are minor when you 're not in them.  We assessed blame, fixed the bikes, oohed and awed about the blood, then continued on our way.  Some skin, a wheel, and a pair of kitty kat socks were all that was damaged.

I just get so excited when my friends come over to play in my neighborhood.  We finished in 4 hours.  Sandwiches, pasta, and beer were consumed when we got back to Beautiful Downtown Havana.

There's so much more out there to ride.  I have all these trips in my head.  They're all less than 3 hours, honest.

I've Been Thinkin'

I've been thinking a lot lately about "the last time".    Let me give you some examples:

How about; the last time you carried your kid up to bed after they fell asleep on the couch.

Or the last time you spent time with an old friend that you had been seeing regularly, but then lost touch.

Or the last time your kid yells "dad's home" (happily) when you walk in the door.

What about the last time you played a game with your mom or dad. 

Like most things go we don't know what the next day holds, in fact we're not even guarrenteed a "next day".  So I have to remind myself to enjoy the moment, the right now.  Someday Isle is a fantasy place.  Better to do it today if you can.  Spend every day like it was a piece of gold.

Whoa, sorry to be so morose.  It's raining and dark outside, the summer's almost over, and the run to the end of the year from here always seems to go so fast. 

Oh, sorry, I did it again. 

Maybe it's because in my line of work the process of growing trees is so long term I'm reminded about the passage of time more frequently.  We're harvesting trees I planted when I started with this company 25 years ago.  I can remember when I planted them like it was last week.  The trees we're planting now will be somebody else's to deal with.  That's another one of those rude awakenings that come up unexpectedly after you reach a certain age.  How about retirement?  Scary huh?

I know it will catch up with me one day, after all there's a reason only 27 50+ riders rode Fools Gold.  I guess I should just grow up?

When I Get Off of This Mountain

 

Fool's Gold is over.  Unfortunately the pain is not.  I really thought I had a good chance at being close to BJS at the end.  Deep down I knew it was a long shot but hey, I can dream right?

 

Our Friday evening pre ride was a blast.  The machine built trail they call Jake was amazing.  I didn't notice all the climbing on Friday, but it seemed like it was all up hill by the time I got there on Saturday.

 

 

The forecast was for rain on race day.  I had metal brake pads.  Of course they were on the bench in my shop in beautiful downtown Havana and not on my bike in Dahlongea Ga.  So I worried about that all night.  Then I worried about slick trails along the side of the mountains.  Then I worried about losing BJS in the crowd at the neutral roll out.  The only thing I didn't worry about was cramping.  I seriously thought my awesome cross country fitness would get me through 6 hours of racing.  I had my Camel Back filled with 2 bottles worth of water, plus ice, and was running a water bottle with Heed mixed in it.  I had planned to stop at all the sags to make sure I stayed hydrated.  After all it's not like we hadn't been riding in humid weather for the past 3 months right?

 

 

I felt the first twinges of an inner thigh cramp at the top of the 18 mile climb, right before the first sag.  My heart jumped, "you've got to be kidding me" I thought.  I stopped at the sag, I hadn't polished off the Camel Back yet but it was low, and my water bottle was about half gone.  which should have been enough.  The kind lady at the sag filled my bottle while I filled my Camel Back, she put the bottle back in the cage for me, and off I went.  When I got to the bottom of the 2 mile descent my water bottle was gone, not empty but gone.  I should have checked it.  As soon as I put pressure on the pedals the cramps hit.  They were to be my constant companion for the next 4 hours.

I made the second sag with a bone dry Camel Back.  I ate Endura Lite pills like they were Chicklets and filled the bladder with Heed, hoping to get the pain to let off.  As I started the second biggest climb of the day I knew I was in trouble.  As soon as I got off the bike to walk a steep section both legs locked up.  Sticking straight out, from my hip to my feet, I fell over backwards, unable to bend my knees, I fell head first down the hill, on my back.  I crawled back up to my bike and drug it off the trail.  Riders would go by and ask if I was ok, to which I responded "DO I LOOK LIKE I'M OK?".  They just kept on walking.  Imagine that.

I finished the race, only because there was no other way off the mountain.  On the last section of rollers it hurt so bad.  I don't remember having that much pain for that long in my life.

So what's the answer?  Is it age related?  Did I just not drink enough?  Did I go out too hard?  Only 27 riders over 50 rode the 50 mile event.  I talked to a couple as they passed me and they had cramped also.  I hope this isn't a sign of things to come.

BJS thought it was funny when after the race I was jumping around the hotel room still cramping.  He finished 40 minuets ahead of me.  He cramped a little also which makes me feel better.

 

In spite of all the pain (or maybe because of it) I want to do this race again next year.  By then I'll be 57.  Then again maybe I should just stick to shorter distances.  Maybe I should just be happy I can still ride a bike, much less race one.  Maybe I should just play ride and drink beer.  Maybe I should just be glad I'm not still up on that mountain.

I Can't Find My Way Home

"How much further?"

"Not too far." 

"No really, how much further?"

" Not too far."

"I'm going to kill you and leave you in these woods if you don't tell me how much further we have to go!"

"Well, you see, we kind of have to tack like a sail boat.  We just can't go straight back."

"I don't care about that!  I just want to take the most direct way home!"

I take full responsibility for the dissatisfaction with my planned route.  I had no idea the first section of clay road was going to be muddy.  He was on a %;; #  ;*# bike.  But this guy normally beats me up pretty bad so I wanted to make sure he got enough.  Mission accomplished!

We had the option to do the Dirty Spaghetti route but I really wanted to do this loop in Decatur Co. Ga.  I was soooo excited to be back on the CX bike on clay roads I could hardly sleep the night before.  The weather was as good as it gets in late August, blue sky's and mid 80's.  I had planned to haul the bike up to a better starting point since my riding partner wanted to make sure we got plenty of dirt on our route.  Then he calls the night before saying he was going to ride from his house.  Add that to the fact that he told me the day before we should be able to average 18 mph, and I felt like a wimp.   I can barely average 14 on clay roads, I just knew I was in for a butt whoopin.   I decided to ride from my house and meet him en route so as not to look like too much of an old fart.

Anyhoo, after 53 miles we found ourselves at the BP store in Attapulgus Ga.  Being the only white people, plus wearing Lycra, we became instant celebrities.  It was here while enjoying cokes and candy bars that we had the discussion above.

I had a longer ride planned but due to the constant whining I agreed to cut it short.  The clay on the roads after the first section was perfect and there was almost no traffic.

I'm sure I'll pay dearly for this.