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.

Later That Day

Led Zeppelin's Black Dog played on the Gone Riding sound system as I stood looking at the mountains and waiting for PP and Dan K. to finish their race. I had pilfered one of Paul J.'s PBR while he wasn't looking and had a pleasant midday beer buzz going. Ah, nothing like the first days of vacation. I was PUMPED! Not really just because I had won, though that was nice, but the feeling of being done with something I had been working on for a while.

We were staying at the lodge just up the mountain from the race site so we didn't have to drive to the awards banquet that was being held there that afternoon. Plus we had the whole rest of the week off and were staying in the mountains until the following Friday. Can you feel it? Yea, it was good to be me.

We got cleaned up and headed to the lodge's banquet hall. I had asked Paul J. to pick me up a six pack of PBR on his way back from Helen but unfortunately they don't sell beer on Sunday so we resorted to plan B which involved a flask of Jack Daniels and a couple of Cokes. Hey I've done this awards thing before.

I did notice we were the only ones drinking alcohol (at least that I could tell). The food was good. PP and I even went back for seconds. This was the beginning of my 4 pound vacation weight gain.

The awards went quickly. David and Terry Berger do a great job. We got some good swag and were out of there by 4:30 pm. Dan K. was a little reluctant to put on his hoodie and pose for pictures but PP rather forcefully convinced him he should participate.

I had hoped the party would keep going but the cumulative effects of alcohol, food, and racing took their toll on me and after a quiet stroll around the lake we all headed back to our rooms and crashed.

Paul J., Dan K., and PP headed back to Tallahassee the next day while we messed around Helen. After lunch at the Troll restaurant next to the river we drove up to N. C. and checked into our log cabin. I have vacation stories and pictures. I almost can't help myself, I have to post them. Yea I know, it's like a bad joke.