And so it begins...

I will admit straightaway: I had almost forgotten why I love cross.  About a month ago, it was just seeming like another thing I was going to be spending money on in order to switch my Van Dessel from road to cross mode.  Nittany reminded me why I love cross.  It was muddy, something we haven't seen for a solid year.

It was good.  Very good to be back in the cross ring.  I definitely came into it without any practice since I hung up my skinsuit last year, so I think I was a little rusty on my "cross skills." The good old Holeshot was definitely up to the task, as I think I've finally found a build that is both low maintenance, and light weight enough.  The only thing I could see changing are the wheels, but who has money for a fancy new pair of carbon hoops anymore right?  Lord knows I don't...

I think I enjoyed Sunday's course more than Saturday's, even though I failed to successfully ride the run-up/log combo during the race (rode it twice during practice).  I am happy with this, even though I was riding very slow.  I definitely don't have the top end speed I had at the end of last cross season.  Hopefully I'll be racing myself into that kind of fitness this year since I'm probably not going to be sticking to any kind of formal training program.  Just cross practice once a week (work permitting) and whatever other rides I can fit in during the rest of the week.  Work schedule is definitely picking up more as we are getting near to the end of the year as out timetable for submitting out yearly monitoring reports has been moved up to the end of October.  All the sudden, the end of the year is in October now.  Whouda thought that...

Fifty Seven Percent

Yesterday I finished 57% of the Shenandoah 100.  If you do your math, that's 57 miles, which put me right at Aid #4, conveniently staffed by my parents and Miss Geology.  That's the second NUE race I've DNF'ed this year.  The first one I was instantly ok with.  Not much I can do to fix a broken freehub in the field.  This one I was a little less ok with.  I'm still mulling over my decision to pull out at Aid #4.  I know it was the right choice, but it's still a tough decision to make.  It's not like I was cramping, or bonking, or having bike issues.  I was just moving really slowly.  I rolled into Aid #4 (remember, that's mile 57) at around 2:00 PM, 7.5 hours after the start.  I thought about it, and at the pace I was going (climbing specifically) it would have been another 5 hrs until I finished, if not more, due to late-race fatigue.  I know it's kind of a lame excuse, but that finish would have put me two hours behind my PR, and an hour behind my finish time from the first time I did the race.  I wasn't mentally ready for a 13 - 14 hour day, as I had been thinking I would be coming in under 10 hours.  It just wasn't happening.  I made it through the first climb of the day ok, spending a good bit of time climbing with Buck until he had to do his singlespeed thing on the steep parts and I elected to gear down.  I made it a good bit of the way up the singletrack climb (Lynn Trail????), which was nice, but I may have burned one two many matches there, as a lot of people walk it since it's so steep and so early in the race.  Coming down Wolf's Ridge, I crashed again.  No tire issues, no injuries like last year, and only one bike part failure!  I must have hit a soft, sandy patch because before I could actually do anything I went from railing a corner to rolling on the ground.  I got up, with no injuries whatsoever, and jumped back on my bike, pedaled once and realized that something was wrong.  My derailleur was no longer attached to my bike.  Oops.  I will give a +1 to the X12-style derailleur hangers, where the hanger itself is not meant to fail.  Instead the bolt that attaches the hanger to the frame is supposed to fail, which it did, saving my derailleur and my frame from damage.  I re-installed the derailleur with a new bolt and went on my way.  Shifting was in no way effected, which is the way I like it.

Got to Aid #2, and made the decision to roll through without stopping.  I still had food, and I still had drink.  I ended up off the bike early going up Hankey Mountain, so I should have probably stopped and ate some free food.  Anyway... Dowell's Draft was awesome, the folks at Aid #3 were mostly awesome.  The next climb sucked balls, although I did run into a few of my fellow Darksiders as I was walking up the singletrack.  They were walking down.  Definitely the last people I expected to see in the GW all the way down in Virginny.  Braley Pond kicked ass, and that was pretty much my race.  I rode back to the campground with a group of people who had the same idea that I did.

Oh well...

In older news, I had my best race ever at the Wilderness 101 a month ago.  Set a new PR of 9:10.  Very happy, even though I didn't break nine hours as I had hoped.

Now is time to forget how to ride for a day on end, and remember how to ride so hard that I want to throw up after 45 minutes.  This will be new, as I don't think I've done a race shorter than 4 hours since, oh, APRIL!!!

What's to say...

Haven't been moved to write lately.  Well, more accurately, I haven't had time to write lately.  I've been bouncing back and forth between Mar-e-land and Bethlehem (I'll let you figure out which one) for work and that has pretty much taken up all my time, both for blogging and riding unfortunately.  The rest of my time has been spent traveling.  I took a trip with Ms. Geology down to Damascus, VA for the Iron Mountain 100k, a little bike race that is fulfilling my goal to pay Chris Scott's salary for the year.  Lemme tell you how awesome that race was.

IT WAS AWESOME!!!

So good that I will definitely be back next year.  It featured the most slightly rocky, very flowy, ridgetop singletrack that I have ever seen in a race.  Given my love of ridgetop singletrack the course gets a 10.  

Only at a bike race...

The race went pretty well from the start.  We had a nice neutral roll out from town, then hit the Virginia Creeper Trail (a rail trail) for the start of the racing.  Almost immediately a Trek 29er Crew rider slipped off the front.  No one noticed.  No one even picked up the pace.  We rolled along for about 10 minutes just chattin' and having a grand old time until someone spoke up with "Hey, where'd Kyle go?"  It was quickly followed by "Oh, I guess he's off the front."  Conversation ensued basically like this:

Person #1: "Should we go get him"

Person #2 (last year's winner): "No hurry.  We'll give it a few minutes."

Person #3: "He must be pretty far ahead, I can't even see him."

Person #2 (still last year's winner): "Whatever, let him do his roadie thing."

So we chilled and talked for another five minutes or so.  Then Person #2 went to the front and pulled hard.  I managed to stay on the train until the bottom of the first climb, at which point we had caught this "Kyle" who was off the front, and I could not hold the pace up the climb.  I settled into the second group.  It was good.  I gained a few positions on the descents, and lost a few on the climbs.  When we hit the longest climb of the day (9 miles maybe?)  I found a rhythm for about the middle third of the climb, clawed back a few spots, then lost it when it kept going and going.  There's nothing that consistently up hill near the Harbor of Grace, so my "training" was missing that element...

3 miles from the finish I got a flat.  I was running a tube in my rear wheel (regular race wheel still awaiting new hub... see previous post) at 24 psi so it was bound to happen eventually.  I was frankly surprised it lasted that long.  A new tube went in, the CO2 came out, and the CO2 inflator didn't work.  The little pin that punctures the cartridge was completely missing.  I stood there staring at my wheel until some nice guy gave me a pump.  Twenty minutes later I was back on my bike and riding on.  Finished in 6:35.  I probably could have snuck in under 6 hrs if I hadn't flatted and had let it all hang out on the descent.  It was pretty much all downhill from where I flatted... still, that race made me happy.

I spent the next weekend kicking it around in Michaux getting my rock crawling on with Zach and Joe, then last weekend headed up to good ol' Coburn for the Wilderness 101.  More on that later, because I am le tired.

Fiddy

I suppose that in hindsight, the Fair Hill 50 went pretty well.  My body behaved (a better test is coming this weekend though), but my bike did not.  About 10 mi in, I noticed a wobbling in my right shoe area.  Thinking it was my cleat because I had put new ones on a few weeks ago, I hopped off and tightened it.  Still wobbling.  I was immediately brought back to 2010 TransSylania Epic Stage 3 and my epic walk-a-thon after a bottom bracket implosion that started as the same feeling.  And of course, the XX crankset on my bike needs a 10 mm allen wrench to tighten, so I had no way of easily fixing it.  And neither did the three people who stopped and tried to help.  Pedal on...

Wes

Marc

Mile 35.  My freehub started to go again.  Not only could I not shift into my big ring because the crankarm was not attached, the freehub was skipping a few pawls and the bearing were beginning to make an awful noise when I wasn't pedaling.  Also when I was pedaling.  Pretty much all the time actually.  I made it to the finish though.  4hrs 52 min.

Ms. Geology-approved blurry effect.

Cheese???

Now I am nursing a swollen and/or knotted up right calf, most likely from pedaling with a wobbly crankarm for a whole day, and a pretty sore body in general.  Also, I feel like I can't eat enough food.  Ever.  I think I've had three dinner's tonight and I am still hungry.  Guess I need more food.  And less limping.  Hopefully there will be less limping my Sunday and the latest for the Iron Mountain 100k, which I am super looking forward too.  It will be our third long trip of the year (Ms. Geology is coming because I doubt my ability to drive myself back in time for work on Monday), although this one is only taking us one (so close to two though) state away.

Hopefully I can find time to pick up my bike too, as it is currently at le Shop.  I'm getting a shiny new hub for my race wheels as I am done dealing with light weight, low durability West Coast crap.  Having a hub blow out less than a month after completely rebuilding it is unacceptable, especially because I only had like a half a dozen rides on it.  It will be replaced by a Michaux-tested, Brett-approved hub, which will match the rest of the bike.  Hooray for unintended repairs taking my bike fit money.

Part of the C3 army at the start.  Photo by Dennis

Making the Best of Things

Recently I have been working a lot.  I have been riding as much as I can, and actually felt good coming into my first main event, the Mohican 100.  I was ready, so Ms. Geology and I set out on a sunny Friday for Ohio.  It was a fairly uneventful drive all things considered.  Other than a bit of mid afternoon traffic through Pittsburgh, and the awful interchange where I-70 merges into I-76 (seriously, whose idea was that?) we made it in good time.  The last part of the drive, through the Ohio countryside, was the best.  We got to the venue, checked into out campsite, drove up the mountain almost to the top and set up our campsite.  I went to ride, and was greeted to some pretty sweet singletrack.

Money...

It was this, plus some cool rocky sections, so I was stoked.  I got my bike ready in the dark while Ms. Geology read by what little light was left from the sky.

Didn't feel like making a fire... we were just going to go to bed

Most legit number plates ever. 1/8" thick plastic with a timing chip on the back.  Mid Atlantic Timing, take note.

We were camped right on the course.

The next morning, we were up early for my pre-race breakfast.  I rolled out to the start (about 2 mi away in the center of town) about 45 min before the race just to be sure I wouldn't miss anything.  I imagine that this is how many European races start.  A few hits of the horn of an early 90s Chevy pickup and we were off and running.  It felt like an XC start.  Very much not like the 100 milers I was used to with their controlled neutral roll-outs and all.  I did really enjoy starting in the center of town.  A lot of townsfolk were out watching even through it was 7:00 on a Saturday morning.

Rassin...

Needless to say I didn't get very far.  About 9.5 mi into the race I stood up to power up over a little rise in the singletrack.  Two pedal strokes, a loud crack, and I was going nowhere.  Confused, I looked at my chain.  Not broken.  I stood on the side of the trail for a bit wondering what happened, then I spun my crank.  It spun forwards and backwards.  My race was officially over.  I debated my options.  I could either walk backwards on the course to my campsite, then kill myself to make it to the first aid station by 11:00AM (the cut off).  At this point, it was 9:00AM, which left two hours to walk back 4.5 miles on trail, through traffic.  Not happenning, since it took me 15 min to get back to the last intersection, which was less than a quarter mile away.  I decided to bag it, rolled down a trail, ended up on a road, and scootered myself a mile down the road until I came to a check-in building for the state park camp ground I had popped out in.  Using their phone, I called Ms. Geology and she picked me up and brought me back to race HQ to officially DNF myself.  I'm not bitter at all.  I'm glad it happened in the first 10 mi, instead of at mile 60, or even worse 80 or 90.  Hell, then I would have probably attempted to run the last 10 miles.

We made the best of it though...

Mini Golf across the street.

Hiking and spectating.

It seemed like he was moving a lot faster at the time...  A LOT faster.

We pretty much had a good day hanging out at a bike race, watching the leaders, watching the awards and drinking a few free beers.  Next day we packed up and left after a quick bike ride in the morning into town.  Considering I didn't get to race, it was a pretty good weekend.

I spent the next week in the field for work, and came across this little gem on the Surly Bikes blog.  Pretty funny...

Last week I hitched up my car and struck out on my own for the Lumberjack 100 in northern Michigan.  It's the longest drive I've ever done on my own, and for my health, I decided to break it up into two days.  Leaving after work, I drove until midnight on Thursday, woke up, and was on the road by 7:30 the next morning.  It was a pretty much uneventful drive.

When I reached the race venue, I stepped out of my car and was greated by a swarm of medium sized mosquitos.  Welcome to the North Woods (cue stories from my Grandfather and his brother).  The course was wonderful.  Just miles and miles of flowy, sandy singletrack.

Saturday's race went less well than expected.  I was feeling great, and racing hard for the first 50 miles, then my stomach decided it was quitting time and sent me into a downward spiral of feeling like I was going to throw up and "find the brown speed" at the same time which eventually ended in dehydration and me finishing the race in 10:45 instead of the eight-something I was planning on.

No pictures because I didn't have any cameras and I was racing.  And a special thanks goes out to the guys at Twenty20 Cycles who fixed my broken bike up from Mohican just in time for me to leave for Lumberjack.  Also to Ergon for making everything but my hands hurt during races.

I'm gonna chill for a while now, then hit up the Fair Hill 50, Iron Mountain 100k, and the Wilderness 101.  Since I can't really do anything towards an overall in the NUE series, I'm going to refocus on cross and just do a bunch of mountain bike races I enjoy for the rest of the year.  Who knows, maybe I'll be more successful that way...

Late Night's, Long Days

Lotsa long days at work in the past two weeks.  Something like 4 new short-term projects opened up (one is a glorious 3 hr drive away) in the last two weeks, leading to a deluge of work.  A mass of drilling last week, two days of it standing in a field of what I can only surmise was hay given my adverse reaction to it, plus one day in a sand and gravel quarry left my lungs pretty much swimming in crud for French Creek on Saturday.  After a late return from work on Friday night (8:00 PM), I bailed on the Endurance Race, switched over to the "easier" Elite race, and ended up bailing on that too due to bike/lung issues.

Kyle has Gu-legs

Got about a quarter lap in at whatever race pace I could muster, which ended up just spinning up hills and crushing down hills as fast as I could go to close gaps.  The moral of the story is that the Epic is the perfect bike for that course.  Ms. Geology and I hung out to watch all our friends finish, then peaced to see some family before my grandfather's memorial service, which was Monday.  Yes, at 100 years and 107 days (April 11 if you didn't count), my grandfather passed away, holding on until the family who had been with him all day left for dinner.  He lived a great and full life, and while he will be missed by many, he would want us to remember his accomplishments rather than grieve.  We did just that on Monday, with lots of music from almost all family members (and others), some jokes, the story of how he met my grandmother (ask me in person if you want to know), and a few good plugs for his favorite place, Dickinson College.  The college President, former Vice President, a few Dean's, the now-retired Photographer (a close family friend), and a few others from the college attended, which was nice to see.  It was a very good weekend of seeing family and relatives that I don't see all the time, and celebrating Old Granddad's life.

Here's to you OGD

Oh yeah, and there was Granogue last week.  I had a great time hanging out with people. and almost exactly 1/2 of a good race.  Whatevs... Thanks to Marc, Lauri, Tom, Buddy, and all involved for putting on such a quality event.  I am honored to be able to help out.

Good Race

Bad Race... Photo by Dennis

Now I'll just try to fit in rides where I can so I can still have some form for June (see schedule to your right).  Maybe I'll be in Carlisle next week for work so I can ride me some Michaux...

Glamor shot

Coal Country

Trips to Coal Country are always a welcome thing in my life.  Not that I support the use of coal as our primary energy source or anything like that.  Far from it actually.  It just makes for frikin awesome geology.  Seriously.  The majority of the tectonic history of the eastern United States was unraveled at a site not too far from Danville and the Tour de Tykes.  If that's not cool, then I don't know what is...

Gunnar and I thought about it for a while, and it's been three years since either of us had been to the Tour de Tykes.  Last time we were there there was camping in a field somewhere.  There was a short track race, and a hill climb.  There was swimming in a creek.  There was dinner at some cool people's house.  It was also about 110 degrees out with 90 percent humidity.  This past weekend was [obviously] not that.  No camping.  It rained on the drive up there.  Ms. Geology and I stayed in a hotel in Hazleton.  Funny thing is that there were about 40 or 50 young college age looking people there (so basically they looked like us).  We had no idea why they were there.  We knew there was some kind of concert in the hotel so we figured maybe for that.  Next morning at breakfast we find that they are from Bryn Mawr College.  Ok.  As we check out, I spy a familiar looking packet with the following writing on the front: "Geology 102 Spring Class Field Trip Guide."  Classic.

Race went off pretty normally.  Zach drove all the way up with his buddy Joe to take pictures with Kyle's camera (see the book of face).  National Forrest and I damn near missed the start, rolling up with about 1.5 minutes to go.  Pics now... bed time for me.

Brandon, destroyer of souls

Aaron, one who chases back from flats

Matt, added to the list of people I will perennially chase

Gunnar makes funny faces when he rides

Almost finished.  17th place. 0.5 hours behind Brandon.

Post-storm destruction.