Slalom Trail Breckinridge Co.

I've been in kinda a life/riding funk since the FSC race.  The hot, wet, weather, and a general malaise, have conspired to bring my grumpiness to an unusually high level.  It's not possible to stay "up" all the time, I know that, you'd be crazy if you did, but still, I'll be glad when this dark cloud moves on.

Sooo, I decided to put this little video in here.  Just watching it makes me want to ride.  Not ride locally mind you, but ride none the less.  It was 68 with thunder when we started this run.  We'd been lost and had decided to turn back towards Breckinridge and try to beat the storm.  Having just climbed this we knew it was going to be an awesome decent, we were not disappointed.  You might be wondering if I was able to stay up with The Kid, the answer is no.  I rode at a pace that made me smile but with the thought that I was a long way from home.  Later in another video you can hear him mumble "where is Dad?" while he waits for me and the thunder rumbles in the background.  And no, we didn't beat the storm.

The Here and Now

Back in not so sunny Florida and the present.   I have big plans for this weekend.  So big, I wake up early like a kid on Christmas morning thinking about them.  It involves something I haven't done in years, plus riding.  It will be a no fam weekend.  I'm hoping it helps clear the cobwebs, at least for a couple of days.  Don't get me wrong, I love spending time with the fam, but sometimes it's nice to get out from under those responsibilities, if only for a day or so. 

Disclaimer

The above video is not up to the standards of  WB or DH.  I don't want to spend hours in front of this screen editing something that only I really care about watching. 

Anyhoo, I hope the weekend generates much blog fodder.  I'll be disappointed if it doesn't.

0 expectations+ local trails+ good racing= a good day

Yea it was a good day.  Did I win?  No.  Did I get on the box?   No.  Did I have a good time?  Yes.  Did I consume a large quantity of cold adult beverages?  Of course.

Who's this old dude?  Is that the way I look?

It was the first race of the Florida State Championship Cross Country Series promoted by Gone Riding.  It was also my first race in the 50+ expert class.  I had been whining to any body who would listen about getting promoted.  Even going so far as to email the promoter begging to be allowed to stay in the sport class.  But to no avail.  My pleas fell on deaf ears.  I was sure I'd just be a rolling chicane for the rows starting behind me.  So, convinced of my lack of speed, and not concerned with my results, I lined up with 15 other old guys at Tom Brown Park in Tallahassee last Sunday.

Big Jim chasing Mr. Bonn, thinking about doing 4 of these.

When the whistle blew for the start I was in no hurry.  I hit the multi use in last and was content to sit there to see how things would develop.  They (fortunately) had us running 3 laps instead of the 4 that the other expert classes were doing.  Big Jim was envious of this but he'll be in this class pretty soon and he can complain when he gets here.  I was happy not to be doing the extra lap.

Why am I looking at the parking lot?

Anyhoo, my old nemesis from the base class in the Georgia Series, Hambone, was in front of me.  Just like old times!  So when he started to go around people I just grabbed his wheel.  When we hit the first section of single track we were still in a pretty tight group.  As we came to the third split where you could go either way I took the easier path, passing about 4 riders who got bottled up on a root on the other path.  "Local knowledge!" I yelled as I got in front of them.  I'm sure they appreciated that.

Hambone passed me back in the feed zone with a big ol' goofy grin on his face.  He stayed just where I could see him for the rest of the race.  Funny, sitting here now I wonder why I couldn't just get out of the saddle and catch him.  But I didn't have anything left in the tank at the time.  He must have reminded me at least three times at the finish how it was the first time he'd beaten me.

Hambone passing me.  Too far away to see the grin but it's there, trust me.

At a section called Wally World the locals had gathered to cheer, beer, and jeer.  I started yelling before I got there so as to get a good dose of motivation.  It sounded like a stadium.  Awesome!


The crew gathered after the race for beer and pizza (thanks Guardian Automotive!).  We heckled the white wave and told race stories.  In the end I enjoyed the day much more than I thought I would.  I like surprises like that.

The Kid got off to a good start but faded a little.  Still got a 4th.

Another Day On the Clay

"If those bastards were 10 years older they wouldn't be hauling up that hill like that" I thought as I watched my four "riding companions" pull away from me.  But damn did they have to make it look so easy, leaving me back there with the yellow flies?

I had my excuses.   Big Jim had pulled me all over Gadsden County two days before and my legs were still feeling it.  But the ride had started out mellow and I knew the plan was to do efforts on the rolling hills of Sunny Side road.  Still, my legs were talking to me like Scotty did to Captain Kirk on board the Star Ship Enterprise; "I'm given her all shees gat Captain" (say it in an Scottish accent).

Then, on the second hill, right when I took another deep gulp of air, one of those aforementioned yellow flies flew in my mouth.  I tried to spit it out but by this time I was very low on saliva, so he just buzzed around at the back of my throat for a couple of laps.  It was a unique feeling to say the least.  I couldn't decide whether to just swallow him or keep trying to spit him out.  Right before I ran off in the ditch I finally got enough phlegm together to get him out. 

Anhoo, those are my excuses for getting dropped and I'm sticking with them.  It's not easy always being the slowest guy on the ride, but I'm getting used to it.  Besides, it's "good training".  Yea, but they just get faster too.

After eating Georgia clay for over 3 hours the cold mug(s) of beer at Momos helped ease my frustration.  It started raining after we had finished the first two so naturally we had to have another, you know, just until the rain stopped.  I was disappointed to learn that Big Jim knew all the words to all the bad 80's songs they were playing.  And that he didn't mind singing them.