Tree Hugger

At the Gone Riding XC race at Hailes Trails this past weekend they ran us through a culvert that had a low hanging limb before the entrance and another one after you came out. Frank F. was close enough behind me that I could see him through the trees so I'm sure that and my blazing speed had an effect on what happened. I knew the limb was there because we had ridden the trail the day before and it was the second lap of the race. I ducked for the first limb, stayed low for the culvert, then raised my head just in time to catch the second limb with the front of my helmet. That knocked me off the back of the bike but not before turning me to the right and straight into a large oak tree. It's funny what a full grown man will do when faced with the possibility of loosing a $3 medal. My only thought was to grab the bike and get up before Frank got there. I don't even remember checking to see if I was bleeding. My gosh man I could have lost 4th place in the 50+ base class! By all means get up quick!

There were so many other places on that course to further show off my remarkable abilities on a mountain bike what with all the rock climbs and descents around the quarry it was stupid to make an error in that simple culvert section. I mean the first hill after the start was like watching puppies on a tile floor. I knew we weren't going to make it because the class in front of us was still on the hill when we got there. I know I know I should have been in the lead then I wouldn't have had a problem but I had a different strategy in mind. Unfortunately that strategy didn't include Steve A. and two other riders (including the lady that hugged me last weekend) blazing by me while I struggled to get around stalled and floundering riders. I never saw them again.

All in all it was a great day. The weather was almost perfect. Rupe got a 5th in his race so he got one of those precious little medals. The swag from Super Cool Bike Shop was, well, cool even down where we were in the standings.

As I sat on the line waiting for my race to start I could see the Gatorback MX track next door. I thought back to my first dirt bike race there in 1974. Had it really been 36 years since two buddies and I drove into those pits in a green Ford van with green shag carpeting and Grand Funk blasting "We're an American Band" on the eight track? I won a trophy in that race, which was my first race, and my first trophy. From that day on I have been hooked on two wheels. And I never hear Grand Funk without thinking about that day. Life is so cool!

Kawasaki 175 sometime in 1974

Sandy

This photo has absolutely nothing to do with this blog except I find it hilarious.

It was hot and sandy at Ft. Clinch for the Gone Riding race last weekend. We went over on Saturday to get in a few laps of practice and were surprised how dry the course was. I had been told by smarter, faster, charismatic, and more experienced riders that the trail was mostly hard pack and flowed well with just one sandy hill that would present a problem. I knew something was different this year as soon as I slid down the first little sand dune on the single track.

On race day the yellow wave got to stir up the sand even more before we lowly white wave riders got to it. The start on pavement was different and I clenched up as we all went for the same small space on the entry to the single track. Tires slid and I heard "oh shit!" as someone came across on the inside and almost took us all out. FF crashed in front of me 3 times in the first section, SA had seat issues and pulled off (he had gotten a first Tallahassee), and a rider named Dr. Ric (who had gotten 2nd in Tallahassee) hit the first log and flatted. I knew FF couldn't run up the first sandy hill with his bum ankle so we freight trained along till we came to it, I out ran him to the top and was feeling pretty froggy. The top four of us swapped places in the next section as we all struggled with the sand hills that I had no problem climbing the night before. FF got back by me before we hit the pavement but I still had visions of greatness.

Once we popped out on the road headed for the scoring chicane I got a lesson in pavement tactics as third and fourth place drafted by me while FF pulled away. I don't know why it was so hard for me to go faster on the road I just seemed to want to rest and couldn't get into any kind of pace. Anyway I was able to catch third once back on the single track just before the sand hill, after he had some tire problems, and once again settled into my "hey I'm on the box!" pace where I spend more time looking behind me than looking ahead. I was happy finishing third and once again I tried to imagine how another lap would have felt.

We have had a lady riding in our class this year (she may always ride it I don't know) who likes to keep the trail chatter up making us all smile while she comments on how we look from behind. She apparently got 5th so when we were posing for our podium photo she grabbed my leg! Take a look at the picture and you can tell she's scoping me out! Maybe this kind of stuff happens all the time in these big time bike races who knows? Even though this photo shows me in all my glory with the big medal and standing on the box and all, I really just put it up to show her. No really.

Rupe had a tough time on his last lap with two crashes but was still glad to be there; finishing just out of the gold in sixth. Instead of attending my podium deal he went and sat in the ocean. He keeps that up and we'll just have to see about that 9er he's been drooling over.

The End?

I let my subscription to Motocross Action expire this month and now I hear that Cycle News has quit print publication. That leaves Dirt Rider as my only moto magazine and I have never really enjoyed reading it that much. The weekly delivery of Cycle News used to be a big deal before the Internet and all of the TV coverage that moto now enjoys. It seems like I am in the minority but I like to hold my reading material in my hands, flip through it, and look at the pictures. It's just not the same as clicking on the pages on this screen.

I have a framed first edition of Dirt Bike Magazine that I purchased at a news stand in Jacksonville Fl. in 1971 and a stack of later editions from the 70s into the 80s. Some of the articles are 2-3 pages of text, written with an easy style, and a sense of humor. That was back before the days of motor homes and enclosed trailers. I liked it better when it was kind of a niche sport, not so Nascar.

The MTB races and rides remind me of what moto was like in the early days. You have a few who are taking it serious but most of the riders seem to be just in it for the fun. The pits (do you call them that?) are relaxed and it's hard to be too aggressive out on the trail with another rider when they can talk to you while you ride. Not all disciplines of moto have gone glitzy. There is still enduro racing which draws a more relaxed and friendly crowd. Unfortunately land to have these events on has gotten hard to come by so they end up using wet areas or trails that have been beaten to death.

Maybe it's not the end of the moto deal for me. I still have a bike and some good places to ride. People who know me will tell you that I do this every so often, quit riding one type of moto and get hot on something else, only to go back to the first thing eventually. But I am happily stuck on this bicycle deal right now.

We rode FM Wednesday, TB Thursday, and again on Saturday. Sunday afternoon we rode FM again and I expected to get tortured by RS and Charismatic CS but it turned out to be a moderate pace (for me) and a nice way to wrap up the weekend. Rupe and I are looking forward to the race this weekend and now that I have some idea how it all works I am not nearly as nervous as I was before the first round.

The new Specialized Sport shoes I purchased last week are much lighter and don't soak up water as my Shimano MT 41's did so I'm looking for at least another minute off my lap times.

Toe the Line

I tried not to let the bicycle thing get competitive. I really did. I kept telling myself and any one else who would listen that I was just in it for the fresh air and fun. But every now and then I would catch myself looking at race articles on the Internet, asking questions about pacing, and getting advice from more accomplished riders on clearing certain obstacles. I would ride behind people and measure my speed (mostly lack of it) and stamina then tell myself that "I was just curious". All of the while repeating the mantra that racing didn't matter, that I was not one of "those types" when it came to bicycling. You see in the past I had let the urge to compete taint my motorcycling to the point where it just wasn't fun anymore and I didn't want to head down that path with this new hobby.

So it was with a certain amount of dread and anxiety that I toed the line Sunday morning for the first round of the Florida State Series. I had been waking up at 3:00 in the morning visualising laps around Tom Brown every night the week before and despite all my self analysis I had no idea how I would stack up against the 16 other 50+ base riders. Would they just leave me in the dust? Would I be fighting for last place? Would I puke?

Then the starter said "5 seconds" and I almost peed my pants but when the whistle blew and I started pedaling I felt almost calm. Almost. I had listened to TC when he told me to go hard at first but these guys (and one lady) seemed to be just cruising. So when Steve and Frank went by I took off after them. The root section on Cadillac that TC and CS had helped me with went by like it was nothing. The pace felt good and I was pumped to be in third. Before Kudzilla I moved into second and stayed there the rest of the first lap. On the multi-use after the rock creek crossing I lost a place just before going onto Cadillac. At this point I was getting tired and started having trouble passing people. Then two riders collided on the approach to the roots after the bridge right in front of me and there was no where for me to go. I watched second place disappear through the trees.

By the time I started the climb on Magnolia my back was hurting and I was getting a little queasy so I decided to settle for third. Which really wasn't much of a choice since it was all I could do just to pedal.

I don't see how anybody could do 3 laps or more! I have raced off road motorcycles for 28 years and this was one of the hardest things I've ever done on two wheels. But it was one of the most fun. I'm embarrassed by my little fist pump when I crossed the line, an old man getting excited about getting a third in the oldest and slowest class in a little bicycle race, but I couldn't help it.

I had a blast and Rupe and I could easily get hooked on this. He also finished third in his class and I've never seen him enjoy a competitive sport so much. It was cool both of us getting on the box in our classes in the same event. Gone Riding does a great job making the event fun and the Higher Ground guys added to the festival like atmosphere. We're planning on going to the second round in Fernandina in a couple of weeks and try some trails we've never ridden before.

In retrospect I guess not everybody wants to line up and race and there's certainly nothing wrong with that. There are a lot of people who didn't race Sunday that are much better riders than I am. I guess in the end once a racer always a racer and no matter how old or slow I get there's a certain thrill that goes along with lining up with other people and having somebody say GO!

Holiday

When people ask how my holiday weekend went I just shrug and say "I went to my wife's family reunion" and they understand. Rupe and I did get to run the Fallen Heroes 5k Saturday morning before we left so that at least got things started out nice. I struggled on the hills leading up to the finish but overall I am happy with my time. Rupe cut a little off of his last run time and said he enjoyed the run. I'll leave out the details of the trip to the reunion so I can stay married but I was informed I didn't have to go next year so that gives you an idea of how well I behaved.

We got back Sunday evening so Monday was open for a round of golf in the morning and a short but fruitful ride at TB in the afternoon. We just happened to catch TC and KW at the trail head and they were kind enough to escort us on a lap in what we assume will be the direction of the race this coming weekend.

TC even took the time to work with Rupe and I on a section we have been struggling with. After some examples and brief instruction I still couldn't get the nerve to clear this particular root section. Rupe however cleared it on his first try. He stopped at the top, dropped his bike, balled his fists, and said "yesssss!". I was glad he cleared it but more than that I was glad he was so stoked about it. It's a good feeling when you finally defeat something that has scared you. You get that little adrenaline high, it can be very addicting, and it's a part of what makes this sport so fun. I mean if you miss a par put in golf what's the worse that can happen? I did manage to get over the other part of the section but not until after Rupe had done it first. On the way home I had to listen to him tell me how I should set up for the one he did that I didn't.

There will come a time when he'll be able to do lots of things I can't (sounds like it's already here) and that's a little hard for me to get my head around. I guess it comes to all fathers eventually but for me it's both a proud and slightly scary moment.

But hey, at least I beat him at golf.

Don't Worry Be Happy

It started last Sunday with the Green Coffee Bean ride at Forest Meadows. While not as big of a crowd as we had last time the 15 riders split up into two groups with one planning on riding a more aggressive pace than the other. I had invited a friend along whom I was hoping would get bitten by the mountain bike bug so he, Rupe, and I went with the more mellow group.

We all made it back to the parking lot in one piece, no crashes, everybody made it up all the hills, and there were grins all around. My friend had had enough so Rupe and I planned to go on a little less mellow ride. We should have quit while we were ahead. My buddy wanted to ride my bike before he went home so he hopped on, clipped in, rode 10 feet, and fell over like a ton of bricks. Fortunately he was out of sight of everybody else as he rolled around on the ground like he'd broken a hip (which I thought he might have). He recovered but I doubt he got bitten by anything other than red bugs.

After my fallen comrade loaded up Rupe and I hooked up with three other guys and went on some illegal single track which was a blast. I'd never ridden this trail before. I know, I know we shouldn't have done it and I don't have a good excuse but it was really a good ride. What you've never done it?

Tuesday I went on the Higher Ground ride to TB and met another group of nice folks. Todd even offered to buy us all ice cream at the end of the ride. That guy knows how to run a business.

Wednesday was at TB again with Rupe. It was the first week night he'd had off since school started and he was anxious to ride. I had to work to stay with him he was like a bird dog that had just been let out of the pen. We had to cut our ride a little short as I developed mechanical issues and could only ride in granny.

TB again on Thursday with Terry's Kids. It was great to see him on a bike and the ride was enjoyable. That group has some impressive skills or is it just that I don't have any skills, anyway I kept asking "did you ride up that?" To which they would smile at me like you do a kid who just asked about Santa Clause and say wise things like "just pull on the front end and let it roll over" or while looking at my cassette say "looks like you've still got a few more gears to use". I do appreciate their help and patience as I tag along.

It was actually 69 degrees this morning. It's a cruel joke that as the weather gets better the days get shorter.

Sore

My thighs are killing me. I can hardly walk down the steps in the garage without wincing in pain. Since I started riding the MTB I haven't taken much time to run. I used to do at least 15 miles per week and a 5 mile run wasn't that unusual.

I have been looking forward to the Miller Landing Madness 8k since I missed it last year due to catching the annual cold my wife seems to bring home from school. I really like running off road and this year I was healthy, the weather was perfect, and I hadn't run more than 2 miles a week in months.

At the start I lined up close to the front even though I knew I was going to be slow. I'd set my Garmin for an 8 minute mile pace and I waited anxiously for the starter to sound the horn. As always seems to happen two older (than me) women got right in front of me just before the horn and as soon as it went off they did the little shuffle, talking all the time, laughing, going so damn SLOW! Don't they know this is a race? Can't they see I'm some kind of running machine? Alright, alright it's a long 5 miles so be cool. I noticed a lot of people going out hard but I held my pace, my little Garmin beeping whenever I went under 8 minutes.

The crowd thinned out at the 5k/8k split which was just after the first good hill. We did 2 loops of the same course and on the second loop I started seeing all the people who had started out so hard; walking. I began picking off small groups and by mile 4 I only had one runner that I could see in front of me. I hadn't looked back but I couldn't hear anyone behind me. Here's where I got stupid. For some reason I thought it was 6 miles instead of 5 so when I came out of the woods and saw the finish line I still had some gas left in the tank. I passed the guy in front of me, and as I got closer to the crowd along the finish chute someone yells "you've a big pack coming behind you". What? I started sprinting and some gray haired dude caught me at the line.

It's not like it was for a trophy or anything but still I hate to loose a place right at the end. I finished 56 out of 158 and yes the guy that got me at the line was in my class. Rupe ran the 5k and felt good at the finish. Bunky joined us for the traditional after run trip to Waffle House. It was a great way to start the weekend.