Tree Shaker 12 hour extravaganza
The Boy and I headed down to Fort Mill, SC to line up in the men's solo SS field for the Tree Shaker 12 Hour MTB Challenge. The SS men's field had a nice group of 12 riders including Vassago rider Kevin Clark, Big Worm, and my nemesis from the winter short track series of 2006 Ross Dowswell (3rd overall on a SS at the Burn 24 hour race in 2007). There were also plenty of other familiar faces including Tim Kingery (Charlotte summer series SS champ) and Johnny Nap Sack (doing his first 12 hour race on a full rigid). Since the plan was to have fun I was worried less about the podium, and more focused on pacing myself to have a pleasant experience for 12 hours and not get hurt the week before La Ruta.
Since I had ridden the course a few weeks ago I decided that the Le Mans start was going to be critical to my short term happiness. The course was going to start with some fast, flowy singletrack, and a slow run was going to mean a congo line of death for endless miles. I ran hard to stay in the top five getting to our bikes even thou the only thing I hate more than running is running hard. It proved worthwhile as later when the course wound its way through the woods I could see the riders further back slowly snaking through the woods with their noses up the butts of the riders in front of them. I had made a good decision to punch it early, and I managed to get through the first lap on my own terms.
Somewhere on the second lap something odd happened. I hadn't wrecked or done anything else outta the ordinary, but my front brake was making an annoying sound. In true Bad Idea Racing form I had swapped the pads the week before the race without going out and testing everything. My biggest fear was that the stupid little wire thing holding the pad in place had fallen off, and the only thing keeping the pad from hitting the dirt was luck. I rode into my pit and flipped the bike over to find that my front rotor was bent. WTF? That's never happened to me before unless I touched the floor, so I took a little time to bend it back with my hands. It was still rubbing pretty bad, but not so bad that I could hear it over my iPod.
Out on my third lap I looked down and saw that my nifty pink pump strap I was bragging on last week had decided to give up its load. Somewhere on the trail my $5 can of Big Air was lying useless in the leaves. Doh. Time for a careful lap to avoid pinch flatting. When I got back to the pits I scooped up another can, and pitched the pink strap into my tub.
Out on my third lap I realized that my brain was functioning in a very lucid manner. I realized that this was the first lap-type race in years that I had done without the influence of an aspartame stunted depression. For the first time in years I knew what lap I was on, and I didn't have any trouble figuring things out. I wasn't fighting the battle of indifference and the lethargy of a unstimulated brain. I was having... dare I say it..."fun". I kept my pace casual, I enjoyed the challenging uphill log pyramids, and I didn't foresee myself having any problems going the full twelve hours.
So lap after lap things were just interesting. I ran into people (not literally) I knew, I high-fived The Boy on the out and back, my bike was just grooving, and I had all the sweetest lines through the technical sections dialed. I never stayed in the start/finish area very long (even to say hi to The Fajita and The Pie), and I even had to laugh at myself when I smashed my naughty bits on the saddle during a mistimed remount leaving the pits (people saw it, and yes they went "Ooooooooooooooooooooo!"). My old skool nutrition plan was even working just fine. I even found my Big Air on the trail a few laps after I lost it. I was living off the land eating Oreos, animal crackers, Gatorade, and one banana (trying to keep a balanced diet ya know).
When I came in at 5:30 (just in time for the "get your lights on" cut-off) I knew I had at least three laps to go. I had no idea what place I was in, but I figured I'd ask on the next lap just to plan my evening. I could do three more laps before the last lap cut-off at 8:30 leaving time for a fourth if I had to, or slow my roll down a tic and squeeze in right after 8:30. I was still amazed that I had kept track of my lap count up to ten at this point, and I wasn't really feeling any signs of fatigue. I hadn't checked, but I was pretty sure I was running consistent lap times to boot.
After my first lap with a useless light on my head I decided to go ahead and see how far I could go before I turned on my light. I checked in with The Boy and decided to see if I was racing. I was running in first place with Ross in second, but the most recent print out was two laps old. I only had a 20+ minute lead at that point, so I knew that there could still be a race going on. With my newfound coherent thinking I did the math, and I knew the questions I would need to ask myself when I finished the next lap.
I made it pretty far into the lap without a light, but after a couple of good "Oh shit!" moments I realized that I wasn't going to feel my way around in the dark much longer without repercussion. I clicked on my light, and a few moments later I rolled up on the back wheel of Kevin Clark. About two seconds after I got on his back wheel I forgot all about a root I had told myself to remember when things got dark, and I went down hard. Lucky for me it was not the "Oh my God, I'm dead" hard, but the "This is your wake up call" hard. I got back up and quickly looked over my bike before chasing Kevin down again. He said he would have third locked up with one more lap which told me that Ross was still somewhere behind me on the same lap. Neat how a mind can actually work when it hasn't been kept a chemical prisoner for a few months.
When I came in after my 12th lap I went straight to the current results. Ross went out on his 12th lap at 6:55 which meant he would have to pull two sub 48 minute laps to push the race to 14 laps. All I needed to do was have a mechanical free lap to sew this thing up. I made sure to enjoy my last lap as much as possible, rolling the fast lines, goofing around, and chatting it up . After my DNF at the Burn 24 Hour Race in May it felt good to know that I could still do this. That's not to say I wanna keep doing it, just that I can if I wanted to.
One more in the W column for the 2007 "season". Feels good.
If you're looking for another bang for the buck quality event next year look no further. With the new course at Anne Springs Close Greenway The Tree Shaker is as good as it gets. This is just the kind of event that suckers me back into the occasional shits and giggles lap race.
If you don't want to read the shill stuff read no further and skip to the pics.
This was my first RACE on my Thylacine Arete Ti 29'er set up the way it was meant to be. It freakin' works. I was stuffing hard into corners all day, and the bike just railed. I have never felt so good about the way a bike rides. I also realize the bike is the sum of it's parts. Everything (regardless of whether or not it came from a sponsor or if I paid full retail for it) is exactly the way I like it. I am... I'm almost afraid to say it... content.
A big thanks to Warwick at Thylacine Cyles, and Jeff, Clint, and all the folks at Industry 9 for making beautiful things happen for me. And while I'm playing the game, I might as well thank Twin Six for making me look so damn good all year long.
Here's my biggest smallest fan letting me know who's da man.
but how can you blame her? Look at that textbook cyclocross dismount (sorry, no pics of the nut buster remount when I went back out).
The family unit decided to give their input regarding my cookie intake.
The Boy finished his day with 5 laps for 45 miles of riding. Not bad for basically coming straight off the couch since his last effort at the Burn in May. No, he did not ride the Barbie bike in the picture.
Since I had ridden the course a few weeks ago I decided that the Le Mans start was going to be critical to my short term happiness. The course was going to start with some fast, flowy singletrack, and a slow run was going to mean a congo line of death for endless miles. I ran hard to stay in the top five getting to our bikes even thou the only thing I hate more than running is running hard. It proved worthwhile as later when the course wound its way through the woods I could see the riders further back slowly snaking through the woods with their noses up the butts of the riders in front of them. I had made a good decision to punch it early, and I managed to get through the first lap on my own terms.
Somewhere on the second lap something odd happened. I hadn't wrecked or done anything else outta the ordinary, but my front brake was making an annoying sound. In true Bad Idea Racing form I had swapped the pads the week before the race without going out and testing everything. My biggest fear was that the stupid little wire thing holding the pad in place had fallen off, and the only thing keeping the pad from hitting the dirt was luck. I rode into my pit and flipped the bike over to find that my front rotor was bent. WTF? That's never happened to me before unless I touched the floor, so I took a little time to bend it back with my hands. It was still rubbing pretty bad, but not so bad that I could hear it over my iPod.
Out on my third lap I looked down and saw that my nifty pink pump strap I was bragging on last week had decided to give up its load. Somewhere on the trail my $5 can of Big Air was lying useless in the leaves. Doh. Time for a careful lap to avoid pinch flatting. When I got back to the pits I scooped up another can, and pitched the pink strap into my tub.
Out on my third lap I realized that my brain was functioning in a very lucid manner. I realized that this was the first lap-type race in years that I had done without the influence of an aspartame stunted depression. For the first time in years I knew what lap I was on, and I didn't have any trouble figuring things out. I wasn't fighting the battle of indifference and the lethargy of a unstimulated brain. I was having... dare I say it..."fun". I kept my pace casual, I enjoyed the challenging uphill log pyramids, and I didn't foresee myself having any problems going the full twelve hours.
So lap after lap things were just interesting. I ran into people (not literally) I knew, I high-fived The Boy on the out and back, my bike was just grooving, and I had all the sweetest lines through the technical sections dialed. I never stayed in the start/finish area very long (even to say hi to The Fajita and The Pie), and I even had to laugh at myself when I smashed my naughty bits on the saddle during a mistimed remount leaving the pits (people saw it, and yes they went "Ooooooooooooooooooooo!"). My old skool nutrition plan was even working just fine. I even found my Big Air on the trail a few laps after I lost it. I was living off the land eating Oreos, animal crackers, Gatorade, and one banana (trying to keep a balanced diet ya know).
When I came in at 5:30 (just in time for the "get your lights on" cut-off) I knew I had at least three laps to go. I had no idea what place I was in, but I figured I'd ask on the next lap just to plan my evening. I could do three more laps before the last lap cut-off at 8:30 leaving time for a fourth if I had to, or slow my roll down a tic and squeeze in right after 8:30. I was still amazed that I had kept track of my lap count up to ten at this point, and I wasn't really feeling any signs of fatigue. I hadn't checked, but I was pretty sure I was running consistent lap times to boot.
After my first lap with a useless light on my head I decided to go ahead and see how far I could go before I turned on my light. I checked in with The Boy and decided to see if I was racing. I was running in first place with Ross in second, but the most recent print out was two laps old. I only had a 20+ minute lead at that point, so I knew that there could still be a race going on. With my newfound coherent thinking I did the math, and I knew the questions I would need to ask myself when I finished the next lap.
I made it pretty far into the lap without a light, but after a couple of good "Oh shit!" moments I realized that I wasn't going to feel my way around in the dark much longer without repercussion. I clicked on my light, and a few moments later I rolled up on the back wheel of Kevin Clark. About two seconds after I got on his back wheel I forgot all about a root I had told myself to remember when things got dark, and I went down hard. Lucky for me it was not the "Oh my God, I'm dead" hard, but the "This is your wake up call" hard. I got back up and quickly looked over my bike before chasing Kevin down again. He said he would have third locked up with one more lap which told me that Ross was still somewhere behind me on the same lap. Neat how a mind can actually work when it hasn't been kept a chemical prisoner for a few months.
When I came in after my 12th lap I went straight to the current results. Ross went out on his 12th lap at 6:55 which meant he would have to pull two sub 48 minute laps to push the race to 14 laps. All I needed to do was have a mechanical free lap to sew this thing up. I made sure to enjoy my last lap as much as possible, rolling the fast lines, goofing around, and chatting it up . After my DNF at the Burn 24 Hour Race in May it felt good to know that I could still do this. That's not to say I wanna keep doing it, just that I can if I wanted to.
One more in the W column for the 2007 "season". Feels good.
If you're looking for another bang for the buck quality event next year look no further. With the new course at Anne Springs Close Greenway The Tree Shaker is as good as it gets. This is just the kind of event that suckers me back into the occasional shits and giggles lap race.
If you don't want to read the shill stuff read no further and skip to the pics.
This was my first RACE on my Thylacine Arete Ti 29'er set up the way it was meant to be. It freakin' works. I was stuffing hard into corners all day, and the bike just railed. I have never felt so good about the way a bike rides. I also realize the bike is the sum of it's parts. Everything (regardless of whether or not it came from a sponsor or if I paid full retail for it) is exactly the way I like it. I am... I'm almost afraid to say it... content.
A big thanks to Warwick at Thylacine Cyles, and Jeff, Clint, and all the folks at Industry 9 for making beautiful things happen for me. And while I'm playing the game, I might as well thank Twin Six for making me look so damn good all year long.
Here's my biggest smallest fan letting me know who's da man.
but how can you blame her? Look at that textbook cyclocross dismount (sorry, no pics of the nut buster remount when I went back out).
The family unit decided to give their input regarding my cookie intake.
The Boy finished his day with 5 laps for 45 miles of riding. Not bad for basically coming straight off the couch since his last effort at the Burn in May. No, he did not ride the Barbie bike in the picture.
the big V (Comment this)
You Rock Man! Way to Go!
TimmyD (Comment this)
(Comment this)
Pfffffttttttttttttttttttttttt...whatever.
I killed her.
She did an incredible job out there. (Comment this)
Get them riding it up!
You need to get beaten by the Boy! (Comment this)