May 09, 2008

The Humane Race

This was one of those mornings where I grab a cup of coffee and stare at a blank screen. It's not like I don't have a lot on my mind, it's just more detailed than I can write about. I want to do the front end swap on the Meatplow, build the Zion into a fixed gear off-road machine (sans Industry Nine fixed wheels/running late), make some parts swaps on the beach cruisers so one of them will tow a trail-a-bike so The Pie can drag The Fajita to school without making the Arab nations richer, scratching my head as I'm still working out the feasability of the Moon Cheese Sandwich which theoretically has six different people possibly involved in the project, staring at a constantly growing pile of schwag that needs to go on eBay...

Lucky for me I have this little guy in my life right now to remind me to take it easy and relax once and awhile.



Wally is a very old Chihauhau from the Humane Society. He was found in a yard sale in a cage for the low price of $15. Apparently the former owners were "victims" of the current administrations role in encouraging unstable home loans. They were losing their house, and selling everything including Wally. Somebody was concerned enough to buy Wally and take him to the Humane Society of Charlotte fearing he might end up at the kill-em-all shelter if no one bought him. Once the HSC vets looked him over they found out he had a grade five heart murmur and a very short life span ahead of him. Instead of trying to adopt out this older/hard to place dog he became a long term foster. Well guess where he ended up.

Wally has been with us nearly two weeks, and even though he's what I would call a "chick dog" I love him all the same. He has been assimilated into our pack, and he sleeps at our feet under the covers at night. It's hard to think of stupid inconsequential things when a small dog with a wheezy bark is curled up on your chest with his head under your chin. There's a good chance he'll be staying with us until his condition gets the better of him, and although it will be tough to see him go that way we are doing what we can to give him a quality of life experience as long as he's around.

Fostering is a mixed bag of poop, pee, fuzzy kittens, yappy puppies, smelly fur, and happiness. Big Worm has jumped in, and I'm sure he'd tell you it's been quite a great experience for his entire family. If you don't already do it and you're interested contact your local Humane Society and see what it's all about.

Wally says thank you on behalf of all the misft animals looking for a happy home.


Sorry for the bad pic.  Apparently even dogs don't like sun in their eyes, especially when they're big, buggy Chihuahua eyes.

I guess I did have something to talk about.

Posted by Dicky at 06:08:40 | Permanent Link | Comments (9) |

May 08, 2008

Now what?

I've fallen into a huge gaping hole in my "schedule".  To go from two 100 mile efforts in two weeks to nothing for over a month and a half is kind of a drag.  I've got nothing coming up till The Cowbell Challenge 12 Hour race on June 21st.  That's a long ways away.

Things have changed in the land of Cowbells.  The race has been held at the USNWC for the last six years (I think it's been six years).  Amazingly enough this race predates the construction of the USNWC by quite a few years and was held at the same trails that we lovingly called "Catawba" before someone figured out how to make money (not) with the land.  Due to some issues that go deeper than even I understand the USNWC is letting this race, which is part of the USACycling Endurance Series and the NC State 12 Hour Championships, slip through their fingers.  I can't imagine why they wouldn't want this race on "their" property so they can sell their $5 beer and $8 hamburgers to all the famished racers... whatever. 

So anyways, the race is moving to a new venue just north of town called Fisher Farm.  It's a really nice trail, but it's not the kinda trail that works in my favor.  The old course had lots of climbing and fast descents.  Fisher is tight and twisty, but it's much more about who can lay down the power for 12 hours.  Meh.  I've already proven that I don't do well on this type of course in the past, so I'm kinda thinking the odds are against me getting my Cowbell back (I missed last year due to the Hellride).

I was brainstorming on just how I can improve my odds at this year's event.  I considered (once again) replacing my IF steel fork with a much lighter (but slower handling) carbon fork.  That sounds like a lot of work, so I don't know about that.  I do think I'll take the time to remove the 2.3 Rampage up front and swap it out for a Crossmark.  That should buy me back some time and effort on the course.  Other than that I guess I could start training.  Start training???

Yeah, I've been slack.  I'm still up at 5:00am just like I always am this time of year.  I'm just finding it harder to get out the door.  I surf the web and piddle about the house, and most mornings I'm lucky if I get out the door before 7:00am.  I gotta do something about that.  I know it's semi-defeatist, but training for a race that has stacked the deck against me is a bit disheartening, especially a race that I love to do and have done well at for many years.



I wouldn't exactly say I need more Cowbell.  I've got two of them so far, and I've only got two hands to ring them.  A third might seem pointless to some, but in true American style I want more than I need.  What with the price of gas, the scary economic situation, and our hundred year war going on who wouldn't feel safer with an extra cowbell in their closet?

Sorry about the links to the USNWC.  It's an insider Charlotte joke.

Posted by Dicky at 06:23:00 | Permanent Link | Comments (7) |

May 07, 2008

Reflections and regurgitations

Thanks to Brado everybody gets some happy shots from the PMBAR. Here's the first bits of our race in a nutshell.

Here I am rolling up to the rider's meeting and practicing my Crouching Liger Hidden Nutsack.



"Where's that Kung Fu faggot with the pink wheels?"



"Hey Mike, I'm not sure making a windsail outta your map is gonna do you any good on the climbs."



"Errr.....I know this Taco Bell on 280 is out of bounds, but does it have any vegetarian options?"



Flying in formation.



Flying with no formation.



Elk rolling into CP 4, or as it should be known; Commitment Gap.



The guy with the beer told us this was the special test "Sodomy Checkpoint". Elk and I didn't stay here very long.



The Ergon packs are so sexy that they have a built-in condom dispenser so you don't have to fight the chicks back anymore. (they don't really have condom dispensers, but they should)



and that should be enough about PMBAR (unless something else comes up)




Posted by Dicky at 05:51:37 | Permanent Link | Comments (1) |

May 06, 2008

Re-hashed browns

Time to reflect on PMBAR...

72 teams of two toe the line
64 make the cut and are considered finishers
1 team gets second place and just happens to be the best looking

I would have to say that the night before the race went as smooth as possible. I switched up the pre-race beer choice and quantity since the Cohutta. I don't know if I should attribute that to our success, but I think I will say it helped. I did sleep like shit in the back of my Dirty Little Box. Dunno why... maybe it was to quiet.

Knowing that the goal was seven checkpoints from the get-go made it much easier to deal with mentally. Instead of wasting mental power making decisions about how far to push it there was a bit of sanity in knowing we were going to push it all the way. I can't say why, it just did.

Elk was a fantastic partner. We both had needs at one time or another that needed addressed, and the other guy would patiently wait till we were both ready to roll again. Mental collective and cool heads. Elk has been doing stupid things on a single speed a lot longer than I have, and he has a long list of impressive palmares to boot. When we made our way over to the west side of the forest I told Elk to let me know if at any point he wanted to turn back since every inch we traveled from that point on was an inch further from the finish. He never waivered in his commitment to see this thing out, and it helped me keep my head in the game. He also gave me cookies, and I really like cookies.

I carried 100oz of water in a Camelback, and two 22oz water bottles with a weak Gatorade mix. I did take a quick swallow of water out of a pump at a campsite, but I pretty much relied on what I carried. When I got home on Sunday I pulled the bladder out of my Camelbak and found it half full. I figure that means I drank just over 100oz in twelve hours. Hmmmmm.... there's just something about getting lost in time out there in the woods and I forget to take care of myself as I focus on routes, maps, beer, weather, rocks, roots, mud, and everybody else out on the course. I gotta work on that.

The top two teams were all on 29'ers. Sam was on his pretty new Gary Fisher squishy, Brad was on a Salsa DosNiner, and Elk was on a rigid ti Independent Fabrication. Of course I was on the Meatplow. It was an interesting difference in rig choice taking the two top spots.

I think it's obvious I have bounced back from Cohutta. After a race like Cohutta I get kinda down on myself, and I really came down with a case of "I sucks" that plagued me for the last two weeks. Having a good race and coming through with a decent result will certainly help the mental bruises heal, and pretty soon my brain will go into it's default setting of "I don't suck so bad". Too bad the "I'm pretty good at this" feeling only lasts for about twelve hours after an event. At least with a second place at the PMBAR I can finish out the year with some ho-hum results and not mind so much. A top three finish there has been on my list of long term life goals (Dr Phil says I need those).

We finished 1hr 24min behind first. Of course I'm wondering where we lost it. I have a good feeling Sam and Brad never pulled out a map. I know we pulled ours out probably twenty to thirty times (seriously). We chose our route poorly twice, and at one point had to go past an intersection looking for a landmark to verify that it was the correct intersection (that sucked). Then again I don't know if they were slowed down with a mechanical or if they delivered a baby on top of Farlow. Pushing up Farlow was dumb, dumb, dumb. It was easily the most painful thing we did all day. I feel like we coulda shaved at least 45 minutes off our time if I had only had a better idea of what we were doing out there, which leads me to my next thought...

There was a point out there after we nailed the last check point when I started wondering if I would do PMBAR anymore now that I was finally doing it all the way. Now that the pain is gone (except when I move) I'm already thinking about things I could do differently. My knowledge base of the Pisgah National Forest increases every time I do PMBAR. I hate to waste all this potential smart brain stuff on nothing. I'm really thinking this might be the year I prioritize the Double Dare.... maybe.


Posted by Dicky at 06:05:22 | Permanent Link | Comments (9) |

May 05, 2008

PMBAR (formerly know as the Death March)

For people who do not understand what the Pisgah Mountain Bike Adventure Race is let me explain. The main objective at PMBAR is for you and your teammate to ride to at least four check points (of seven possible) in the Pisgah National Forest. Every checkpoint you get beyond the minimum of four is worth a whopping five hour bonus (each), but you have to cross the finish line before the fourteen hour cut-off. Eric (PMBAR Honcho) Wever also makes the call on determining some roads and trails off-limits for reasons of safety, poach-proofing, and genuine, painful, inconvenience. You are required to carry everything you need for the entire day, whether you're going four-and-out or all the way.

In the past I've been on the party train. My partner and I would go for the minimal number of checkpoints so we could get back as fast as possible in order to drink a maximal amount of free beer. This year I decided I wanted more. Mark "Elk" Elsasser had hit me up in 2007 to be my partner, but I was already in a committed relationship with The Wonderboy. I decided to team up with Elk this year, and we also decided that we were going for all seven checkpoints up front. There was going to be no pussy-footing around. We were going to carry an assload of food and water, plenty of gear, and REAL lights (not silly lightweight commuter LED's) in case we were out after dark.

It never seems to matter how ready I think I am before the start. I'm either re-checking the out of bounds map, deciding what to carry and what to put back in the car, or trying to un-Loctite my partner's brake. This year was no different, but when Eric announced the start at 8:00am and we were free to open our passports I was prepared as I've ever been.

Some folks who know Pisgah pretty well take off right at the start. I always glance at all the checkpoints and come up with a plan before I leave. For the first time ever I identified (sorta) all the CP's, came up with a general route, and had us turning the pedals over in just a few minutes. Elk set a fast pace up the intial climb that had me slightly concerned, but I went with it anyways. PMBAR is a race of attrition that rarely rewards haste or speed. I figured within the first couple hours he would see how everybody starts fanning out, and it just becomes you, your partner, and the sound of your heart beating in your head for hours on end.

We chose the typical route down into the Turkey Pen area (east side of the forest) first. Over the last two years I saved this for last to increase the suffering, but this year we had an agenda. As always the first checkpoint takes a long time to get to from the start, but after two hours effort I could smell the stamp ink getting closer. As we were coming in some folks were already coming out, but trying to ascertain if they would finish in front of you is already pointless. They might do less checkpoints, get horribly lost, have a race ending mechanical, or just simply quit. You usually never know how you're really doing until a few hours after you finish and all the bonuses have been tallied.

On our way to the second checkpoint it was more of the same. We saw people coming back from where we were going, and this time I saw a few folks that I woulda guessed were behind us?? Our second CP was unmanned, so I stamped the passport, jotted down our next destination, and described our condition as "better than everybody else". I also took note of where the other teams were headed, and it seemed like we were going along with the other contenders, yet some others were going God knows where and coming from BFE for whatever reason. Sweet PMBAR befuddlement.

I told Elk we were in good company. Several past PMBAR success stories were on the same path including Sam Koerber (local haunch and 2007 PMBAR champ) and Brad Kee (local psycho and winner of The Most Horrible Thing Ever). I was pretty chuffed to know I had selected a route that folks who don't need a map to get around would take, but at the third checkpoint I messed us up with a poor route selection. I saw a way to the fourth checkpoint that was longer, but maybe easier. When we came back to the proper route we pulled in behind Captain Morgan's team, and they had been behind us till now. Doh.

At least we had a chance now to strategize with some other folks and brainstorm the possible routes. Once we hit the fourth checkpoint we discovered we were not on the same page as to how to hit the three western checkpoints. Elk and I were once again on our own, and things were now getting chilly and moist. We stopped to put on our GoreTex, and as we did Capt Morgan's squad blasted by. A little while later we rolled by them as they were trying to decide between a longer road route and a shorter trail route to the next CP. I knew the trail well enough to know it was best for us, so we continued on to Cove Creek.

When Elk and I rolled onto the Daniel's Ridge Loop to head out to our fifth check point we stopped for a picnic and to peel off the Gore. As we spread out the contents of our packs along came Capt Morgan's platoon, and eventually we all made our way to the next CP together. Upon leaving the fifth CP I was convinced the only way to get to the top of Farlow Gap was to push up it. Eric had deemed the only route to the top (known to me) off limits, so we we're going to do the thing that no one ever wants to really do, push up about 1,200 feet in three technical miles. At the base of the climb Captain Morgan asked me if I was riding all the way to the top. "Of course" I said. "No dabs" I added right before I fell over trying to get clipped in. Sweet PMBAR irony.

As we were pushing up we came across some folks who seemed to be the kinda riders we shoulda been in front of. For the life of me I couldn't figure out how they were headed down Farlow, unless they went outta bounds. They assured me they had gotten there legally, and my brain started to reel. Was there a way to the top without pushing? If there was surely the smarter teams were going that way, and we were losing time and expending huge amounts of energy pushing up.

My fears were validated as I saw Sam and Brad descending down Farlow. Sam asked me "Why are you always pushing up the good downhills?" as he passed, and I knew we had been beat. We arrived at the top of Farlow with Capt Morgan's brigade, and then the maps came out and more strategy was discussed. The seventh CP was going to put us as far from the finish as possible. Elk and I were okay with that, but Capt Morgan's regiment only had commuter lights, and a push to a seventh CP could very well push them into a dark descent off Black Mountain which is a predicament that no one would ever want to be in. They headed back with their heads down regretting thier lack of illumination that would have allowed them to forge on.

Elk and I decided that we would hit the seventh CP and then take the route the smarter teams used in reverse. Whether or not it made sense didn't matter, as neither one of us felt like descending off the back of Farlow to have to push back up to the top and then face the nastiest descent in Pisgah. We reached the seventh checkpoint in a very anticlimactic manner. It felt good to have them all under our belt, but it felt awful knowing that we were at the furthest point from the finish possible. I was very unfamiliar with this part of the forest, so stopping to navigate our way out from time to time was mandatory.

I know topo lines are put on a map for a reason, but I tend to ignore them. Sometimes it bites me in the ass, and sometimes I am pleasantly surprised. Our new route was more of the latter, and less of the former. I thought we would be slowly ascending to Gloucester Gap, but amazingly enough it was mostly a descent. From there it was another road descent to the Cove Creek campground where we would hit our second to last trail of the day. It was just before 6:00pm when we headed up Cove Creek, and we were looking like we just might make it in before dark.

Gravel to pavement to gravel. Climbing and descending with no intermediate goals between us and the finish to spur us on. Occasionally we would pass another team, and I would scratch my head wondering where they were going and what they were doing now. We forged on at a moderate pace on the most logical, albeit still painful, route to the finish, and came to our final turn just before 8:00pm. It was looking like we would make it in before dark, as we only had a hike-a-bike climb and a tasty descent between us and the finish.

As we rolled down the final trail it was just getting to the point where we had to squint to keep our focus in the dwindling light that filtered through the forest canopy. We tumbled outta the woods like two sacks of potatos, and rolled into the finish at 8:14pm. We were told we took second place, and I was overwhelmed with joy (enough so that the fact that the kegs were floating already didn't make me cry). I never expected to do that well at this event ever. Being beaten by Brad and Sam was like being beaten by Lance at the Tour. You expect it, so second place felt oh so good. I thanked Elk over and over for being the guy who helped me get to a place I never thought I'd be in at an event that I hold near and dear to my heart.

Looking at the results this morning I see that Brad and Sam clocked over a hundred miles. Since Elk and I chose (poorly) a different route I guess we went over a hundred plus three more for good measure. A hundred miles plus in Pisgah is no joke. Elk said to me after the race "I knew it was going to be hard, but I didn't think it would be this hard."

PMBAR. Harder than you think, give or take a couple miles.

(of course tomorrow I will rehash my rehashing)


Posted by Dicky at 06:31:18 | Permanent Link | Comments (4) |

May 02, 2008

Are you ready for a good time?



You never really know what you're going to get when you open that ziploc bag. Some will take off at the word go assuming Eric will send us up Black Mountain once again, but I will always open my passport and scan it for vital information before I turn a pedal in anger. You never know if this will be the year that Eric throws some kinda curveball at us.

Opening that baggie is almost like reliving a childhood Christmas past, except the presents are pain, hunger, fatigue, mishap, weather, elevation, distance, navigational challenges, and a quest for immortal glory.

Merry Christmas.

For all you folks that are gonna be at the start tomorrow I'm sorry to tell you, but there is no Santa Claus. PMBAR is just a little bit of hell that has seeped up through the cracks between the mountains and streams in Western North Carolina looking to crush your soul and pulverize your flesh into tasty burrito ingredients for next year's race.

You've been warned.


artwork by Brado

Late Edit: How about this for PMBAR weather? Severe has such a cool ring to it. We should stop calling mountain biking an "extreme sport" and start using the term "severe sport" instead.

I'm so digging this.
PM T-Storms
PM T-Storms		 High
74° F
Precip:
80%
Cloudy in the morning, then thunderstorms developing later in the day. A few storms may be severe. High 74F. Winds SSW at 10 to 20 mph. Chance of rain 80%.

Remember, rain coats are for losers. Wet is the new black.
Posted by Dicky at 06:14:55 | Permanent Link | Comments (2) |

May 01, 2008

Toot toot hey beep beep


Seems like I didn't get the "beef grief" I was expecting yesterday. Too bad. Just wait till I convert to Matrixism. Maybe that will turn a head or two.

I'm gearing up for the PMBAR this coming Saturday. Funny thing is since I'm leaving straight from work on Friday I'll be driving to work in instead of riding. Why is that funny? The first place I'm headed when I hit the uptown of Charlotte is the Dowd YMCA for the annual Ride with the Mayor. It will feel awkward to drive to work on the one day we're supposed to be showing solidarity and all, but whatcha gonna do?

I'm pretty stoked about PMBAR this year. I've never really had a bad experience at this race, even when my partner's bike frame broke back in 2006 (I finished as a DQ'ed solo) and even when The Wonderboy glued his brake shut in 2007. This year I got a PMBAR virgin partner that's ready to go for broke, but I'm still gonna hide my Loctite just in case. I'm not taking chances this time.

I'm not even gonna bother talking smack on this one. Elk and I are bringing the legs, lungs, and pain this time. I got the Pisgah map locked and loaded into the GPS lobe of my brain, and my gear is honed down to the bare minimum... alright I may just carry a Natty Lite just in case. I'm kinda disappointed that Eric (race promoter extraordinaire) no longer requires the racers to carry whistles. I was already planning on performing a duet rendition of Donna Summer's Bad Girls with Elk to lighten the mood as the riders headed up Black Mountain Trail. Guess I'll leave my sequinned dress at home too.


 alt : http://www.youtube.com/v/PotNv1e2a-I&hl=en

Do you wanna get down
Now dont you ask yourself, who they are?
Like everybody else, they wanna be a star

Everybody might as well start cheering for all the teams looking to snag second since Elk and I are pretty much a shoo-in to take the top spot.

Yes, when I look down my nose from the top spot on the podium all the people do look like ants... just in case you were wondering.  Maybe next time I'm up there I'll take a picture so you can see it for yourself.  It's just that cool.



Posted by Dicky at 06:29:29 | Permanent Link | Comments (5) |

April 30, 2008

Not so nice to meat you.

I'm in love with chicken.
I'm infatuated with cow.
I'm enamoured with pig.

I won't be putting them in my cart anymore.
I will be looking harder at the menu when I go out to eat.

I have thought about dropping meat out of my diet for quite some time. The more I read about meat the more I felt weak for eating it. I do live in a family of four, so when the idea of going vegetarian was brought up it was usually shot down. I still read disturbing things that were hard to get outtta my brain.

I remember an article in Dirt Rag about "Vegan" Rob Lichtenwalner that had a sidebar with a few facts about meat and it's real impact on the world. That was one of the first articles I read that really had me thinking about going over to the other team. There was resistance on my family's part, so I pushed it to the back of my brain. I would still see disturbing things once and awhile that were hard to ignore, so I kept gently pushing and nudging.

The Boy now has a slight health issue, and oddly enough it COULD (or might not be) related to an inability to properly digest animal protien. Being an RN this put The Pie into full research mode. She was finally reading the disturbing things that I have been reading for years. In a nutshell our desire for cheap meat affects our health, our water supply, the global economy, the price of gas, and most importantly it starves people. I can't just sit there and eat a Double Whopper without thinking about the fact that it took about ten pounds of grain to put that cheap meat in my mouth. I think about how many people could be sitting at a table with me (you know, those people Sally Struthers was always trying to feed) enjoying the feeling of a full stomach. I just can't do it.

I'm not gonna get all preachy about the topic. The facts are all out there if you wanna know them. I know the little things I do aren't gonna change the world, but I can no longer enjoy a big plate of hot wings without thinking about just how they came to be in front of me. I really loved hot wings too.

I've still got plenty of habits that aren't helping the global situation. At least The Pie and I are on the same wavelength when it comes to a lot of things. She doesn't freak out when we go into a restaurant (that's a funny word), and I want to leave when I see a bunch of styrofoam. She's down with using cloth grocery bags, she doesn't think a couple mile round trip to the video store is too far to walk, and she let's the "yellow mellow". Lately she has been putting a lot of time and energy into finding us new foods that I didn't even know existed. I have eaten quinoa, couscous, tempeh, and pine nuts this week. Google any of those foods and you'll wonder why you're not eating them, especially if your an athlete looking for healthy options to get protien in you diet.

Here's a problem I know I'll deal with at some point. I have seen lots of vegetarians less than thrilled about their options at the big stage races I've done in the last few years. Even when the promoters have offered a vegetarian option they seem to forget that EVERYBODY needs protien to recover from a hard day's effort. I kinda figure that I'll be at the mercy of the promoters if I ever do another stage race. Now that airline luggage restrictions are getting tighter bringing all your gear PLUS a good supply of non-meat protien will cost you money (not to mention the inability to cook it, not being able to keep it with you in your tent because of bear attacks, and the limiting size of the supplied gear bags). I'll probably just have to eat meat and deal with it.

I will do my best to make sure my choice does not inconvenience others around me. I realize this is not a convenient choice though, and it's kind of a sad state of affairs. Trying to eat healthy seems like a part time job if you go to a regular grocery store. I'm really reading labels since the idea is to know what's going in my body. Avoiding hydrogenated oils, high fructose corn syrup, "enriched" flour, and all the other things man has invented and decided to call "food" ain't easy. It just seems odd that we got so far off track all in the name of money, because when you really think about it that's what all this crap is about. How can we make more money selling people food (or at least whatever the FDA says we can call food)?

I don't think I wanna be a part of that anymore.

I didn't want this to sound preachy.  I could have let my brain blow up all over the keyboard, but I did my best to restrain myself.
My flame suit is on. 



Deep fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches are the new steak.

Natural Light is organic, right??



Posted by Dicky at 06:48:26 | Permanent Link | Comments (25) |

April 29, 2008

Dude, where's my sack?

When I got home from my ride on Sunday (the one where I "touched the floor") I thought about icing my shoulder and knee to reduce the swelling and potential future pain. The problem was I woulda had to get up off the couch, find the water bottle/bagpipe/sack thing, fill it with ice, grab a towel, and sit still long enough for it to make a difference. That sounded like about three steps more than I wanted to follow through on. See, I look at body repair and maintenance from the same standpoint as I do bike repair and maintenance. I can stand a little maintenance here and there. Brushing my teeth is like lubing a chain or checking it for wear and tear. Checking tire pressure is like shaving, I'll do it at least once a week whether I need it or not. When it comes to actual repairs/and or dealing with injuries I tend to take the Homer Simpson approach; "Ignore it long enough and it will go away." If the problem doesn't go away eventually something fails, and then I'll seek out a replacement. Very few things have failed on my body, except for my two front teeth that decided to quit on me when I tried to eat some concrete. I guess I've been very fortunate since I've heard replacement body parts aren't very cheap, can be hard to come by, and are hardly ever considered an upgrade....

although my ceramic teeth were much more expensive than my ceramic bottom bracket, and they have lasted ten times longer.

Let's see... what else....

I got a box of happiness delivered to Team Dicky Headquarters yesterday, or as the Finnish like to say Team Penis Headquarters.  Thank my lucky stars for the support of my favorite sponsor OPS (Other People's Shit).



In my never ending quest for things to do that stimulate my brain I finally decided to push the Berserker Boredom Killer a little closer to the Monster Cross edge.



I haven't put any bar tape on the Midge bars yet, but I'm gonna ride it to work today anyways. If I dig the position I'm gonna invest in an Avid mechanical brake and some levers (one for show and one for go). If they work out maybe I'll get a pair to drop the front end on the theoretical Moon Cheese Sandwich.

I mentioned a position change yesterday. All that aggro XC riding over the weekend made me realize that maybe, just maybe, I could use a stem longer than 50mm. I could feel the desire to get a little bit longer and lower in order to push the bike faster in the tight twisties. I'm not talking about a return to the glory days when I used to run a 150mm KORE stem, but how 'bout 60mm with a little negative rise?



I bought this stem awhile back thinking it might be the way to go, but quickly took it off as I wasn't quite ready for it. I think now that I am used to how the new Meatplow rides it may be the wise choice. It passed the front yard wheelie tests, and the ride on Sunday was quite nice. I'm still not sure if it's a keeper, but since I'll be riding 10-14 hours in Pisgah on Saturday I'll probably find out.

While I was in the business of modifying the Meatplow I came across a nifty decal in my bag of useless stickers.



Six is my favorite number. I think theses guys like it too. I'm pretty sure she digs it, and she's so awesome people google her ass. I think it looks so NASCAR and shit, so it's gonna stay.

Oh, and as far as the "keep Dicky's beer cold and win a pair of socks contest" goes? I have decided to get all scientific and stuff (ala Dave and Lynda style) and perform some tests before deciding on a winner. This is way too serious of a topic to just pick a winner all hilly-nilly. If you look in the background of the Midge bar picture you will see that I am accumulating the proper equipment for a full-on cold beer in the drop bag experiment.

Place your bets.


Posted by Dicky at 06:27:37 | Permanent Link | Comments (3) |

April 28, 2008

When life gives me lemons I say f@#k lemons.

It was just one of those weekends where I knew on Friday my riding opportunities would be limited. I either had a family commitment or the chance of treatening rain that was going to put a serious constraint on my ride time. Saturday I managed to drop The Boy off at the airport for his volunteer duty at 6:50am, and then headed over to Rennaisance Park to get there as the Mr Man was unlocking the gate at 6:59am. I was on my bike by 7:04am, and I went out as hard as I could trying to squeeze out three laps in about an hour and a half. That early in the morning I felt like the Jane Goodall of the bunny world as I was sharing the trails with the long eared urban locals trying to munch on their breakfast in peace. I will admit that I did stop and take the time to adjust an old technical rock line that seemed to have been unused since I had last been there (has it been a year?), but for the most part I stayed on the gas the whole time. Why? When I got home I had about nine minutes to shower, put on some fresh duds, make a peanut butter sammich, and head out the door for The Fajita's soccer game.

Later that afternoon I considered going out for round two, but Stabby couldn't make it, and I couldn't motivate myself to go out again. A lackluster sleep due to allergies the night before had me drooling on myself on the couch around 4:00pm. Maybe I'd get a ride in Sunday....

When I woke up it looked like my front yard had been dumped on all night. That meant no dirt for me, and with the possibility of rain all day I needed some motivation to get on my bike at some point. I decided that later that afternoon I would ride the Berserker Boredom Killer in the rain out to REI to get a patchkit for my Thermarest. When I got home from the family related entertainment activity around 2:47pm I read on the interweb that parts of Charlotte had been spared from the previous night's rain. I was out the door at 2:55pm in full scramble mode to try to get in three dirt laps at Francis Beatty before I had to report home for veggie burgers around 5:00pm (and also before the imminent rain started dumping outta the sky).

I could feel the effects of yesterday's anaerobic effort all over, and I had a lot of body parts that weren't too thrilled that we were going at it again. I did take the time to ride the log ride, the skinny/high bridge, and the rock drop (a product of my brain), but most of the time I was on the gas. On my second lap I was pushing the pace trying to catch someone I could see on the trail ahead of me as we were twisting and turning through the woods. I had the gap down to about 10-15 seconds, but as I was rounding a high speed corner I didn't see the seven inch high stump on the inside of the corner I was pedaling through. Cross country speed riding means cross country speed crashing, and the little stob of wood grabbed my pedal and stopped my bike leaving my body to deal with all the leftover momentum. I was over the bars and rolling in the dirt faster than you could say "Hey, look at that noobie who just wrecked on a flat corner!". I leapt up, straightened my stem, and hopped back on trying to ignore the throbbing in my knee and shoulder, but I never caught my "competition". I did have to go back to the car to fix my now rubbing front brake, and then I made my way out for one more lap at a slightly more relaxed pace (after remebering that I am supposed to refrain from injuring myself the week before PMBAR).

I'm not so sure that three hours of all out effort spread out over two days is what I should be doing at this point in the year, but four to six hour jaunts are hard to come by nowadays. It just seems like there's too much going on to sneak out on the kind of rides that increase endurance, so I'll just be happy to take what I can get.

Riding all out on Saturday made me a little more aware of my position, so I made a change on Saturday night that may have been for the better. More about that later.


Posted by Dicky at 06:47:09 | Permanent Link | Comments (2) |