I Love Cross

To bad I can’t seem to find a race anywhere near my house that I can race. Problems with licensing, language and honestly I think people who just don’t care have led me to go to a total, so far, four races with no racing. At least this time I rode to the race and was denied entry then rode home. So 45+ or – kilometers in the pouring rain and no race. Gads…… You would think that they have 1000 people lining up to race. Really it was about 25. Oh well at least I saved 20 Euro. Later, gater.

Back from the dead

Well it has been a long time and I have been less than motivated to write anything and I have no excuse other than because it is only me reading this so it doesn’t matter.  That written, I thought about posting this morning as I was walking Willie.  He inspires me, well forces me out of bed at 0600 every morning to walk him, thereby inspiring me to get up and walk him.  Having a little dog hop on you and be like, “Come on, lets walk, man life is so awesome, food, did you get food, oh yeah I want to walk, food, walk, walk, walk, oh food, cool a cat” and so on and so on and so on.

My early morning walks are a nice time to think.  Mostly about how cold it is getting, but think none-the-less.  And that thinking has led to this post.

Since July I have raced six or seven times, once at night and one 100 miler and random other goofiness.  I really should have written up something about the Schlaflos im Sattel, but that would have been a wasted bit of my life.  Anyone who really wanted to know either spoke with me about the race or was there.  But it went well, we finished, no drama and I had a few beers during the race after we stopped riding.  Marty and I decided that we should hang out and heckle others rather than actually race as we both where having slightly off nights riding.  The SiS experience was more hanging out with the Lobos who came up from Italy and Marty.  I had a great time, but didn’t ride as much as I should have.  Oh that and Ausila won her class.

Now for the 100 miler.  I have been debating about a real life write up or just pretending it never happened.  It did happen, I did finish, and I am not sure I really care.  Kielder Forest 100 was England’s first attempt at a 100 miler, and it, well by comparison to what I have done and ridden in the past, not just 100s but in general for race venues, sucked pretty freaking hard.  The race itself was a glorified gravel road ride and as such I should have, had I known, taken my cross bike.  Don’t get me wrong, the rain made it hard, the puddles made it absolutely wet, and the wind made it difficult at some points.  All that said, the support and people putting on the race are and were pretty nice and for a first time race well organized.

I had my problems at Kielder, more of my own making.  1 flat tire costing me motivation and about 10 places and 15 minutes as I cursed my bad luck and a pretty bad bonk with 5 miles to go that killed my hope for a sub 10 hour finish.  I bonked as the gels they gave out for race food just ruined my stomach and I had not brought enough of my own as I assumed (wrongly) that I could choke down anything if I bonked.  Well I couldn’t, and I was a bit surprised by that.  A lovely lady gave me some food at the 5 mile check point and got me in to the finish, but yeah I am still a bit ticked at the whole thing.  Gravel, gravel, and more gravel punctuated by short sections of single track, I wouldn’t go back.  Having read some reports on line about the race, I must be the only person who did not have a challenging march of death.  It was easy, and save for the bonk, just a long day in the saddle that I paid too much for.  Whatever.

Cool stuff at the Kielder involved crossing over the border to Scotland, riding one of the Seven Stanes and the couple of bagpipe players in pouring rain that must have been freezing in those kilts.

Bad stuff was I DID NOT get my beer at the finish, the barbeque was hamburgers covered in onions, and I HATE onions, and the attitude of the folks cooking was totally bad.  I mean I finished pretty early, how did they act toward the late arrivals?  All I asked for was a burger without onions and got a burger covered in onions and a wet bun.  Still ticked about that too.  Yeah and while I am on ticked, at the racers meeting, the lady giving the briefing went on about no race zones.  Okay, no racing on the open roads, no racing in a few other places like the elevated boardwalk areas.  Cool, I get it, better safe than sorry.  But what the hell was all that crap about if the person you caught on the road, boardwalk or 45 other sections of trail that were neutralized is faster than you so don’t pass?  I caught and wasted, total guess here, 30 or so minutes waiting to pass the eventual second place woman, and a couple of other chumps who had better start positions in the neutral roll out.  I was way freaking faster than these people, I wasted a ton of time waiting to pass these people, and they made no effort to allow me to get by as they tooled along at unbelievably slow speeds.  I let folks pass when they caught me in these areas.  All two of them, because riding flat roads in big rings is just faster than spinning away on my single speed.  Why hold up someone else?

And one last thing, the top 6 or 7 guys didn’t carry the safety equipment.  I want to see all the safety equipment I had to carry on them.  10 pounds of garbage, again better safe than sorry, but 10 pounds of crap on my back all day when the top 6 or so, I believe, carried nothing extra other than a tube and pump.  So what I am not a pro, so what I am not a cool English or Scottish racer boy you all know, so what I can’t pass these goofs for miles and miles because of neutral sections of race course, they SHOULD HAVE BEEN DISQUALIFIED FOR NOT CARRYING THE MANDATORY SAFETY GEAR!!!!!   Local pro or not, the rules are the rules, if the winner cheats by not carrying required equipment he/she should be disqualified.  I have looked at the pics, I want to see the freaking space blanket, extra brake pads, tube, whistle, rain gear, extra rain gear, and whatever I have forgotten that they had to carry.  Where, in the pockets of their jerseys?  No, look at the pics, they are nearly empty, in their camelback, or wait they don’t have one, in the seat bag?  Barely large enough to hold a tube much less all the rest of the requirements.  What?  Was this just required for those the organizers didn’t know?  Again, WTF?

Totally bitter.  I must confess some of the bitterness may come from what happened after the race rather that the race itself.  Bank problems causing missed flight causing awful hotel stays.

Still pissed.  More later, three more races, I think.  I need to get out today for a ride.  The sun is out.  I wish it was warm, well it is warmer than Germany, but you know like 80 degrees warm.  I can dream.  Have a good day.

This guy complain? Never.

This guy complain? Never.

Pictures

Kulsheim 12 hours of fun

Six hours of racing as part of two man team for a twelve hour race sounds fun and easy. Most of the time it is, but when the race is in Germany, and it has rained for the last three months, fun may not be exactly what it will be. I had promised to go and ride with teammate Mike, and was sure that if we both gave everything we had we might make the to 15th or 20th place, so really no pressure except we needed to really help our two solo riders, Mary and Phil.

The race began as expected, wet and muddy, very slippery and less than ideal for racing, and as if to put off my misery, Mike started. Well, he started because I freaking refuse to run at the start of any race. What, do I spend weeks training to run in hard soled slippery shoes so that I can blow out my legs before I get to the bike so some goof ball organizer can yell stuff like look they are running and oh who will get to the bike first? Who cares, I don’t run unless it is cross racing, period. Any way, after Mike did two laps I went out, and found that all the mud that Mike, Marty and Phil had on them wasn’t make-up or fake, it was muddy, so muddy in fact that I was a bit surprised the race hadn’t been postponed.

The laps where 10.8 k long, just a bit over six miles and 225 meters of climbing, for some amount of feet climbed per lap. Mostly single trackish trails really surprised me, as the last time I raced there it was nearly all gravel road, which is one of the biggest reasons I had not gone back. The entire trail could be ridden, and it was reasonably fast and I did enjoy finding rabbits to chase. The guy looking all pro who left five minutes before me, he was the guy I was hunting down, and except for the last lap I did, I caught everyone of them.

You need goals and mine was 10mph on every lap or faster, and I was able to do my 10mph goal, on every lap except one. But that had nothing to do with racing, that had to do with friendship. Marty, who has always surprised me with how fast he is able to go, had for the first time, a bad 12 hour solo effort. I am not sure if he lost interest, the weather, or if he just was having a bad day. It doesn’t matter, really, he did ride the entire race (shortened due to weather) into 14th place. Not bad for a bad day. I happened to catch him on what would be, unknown to me at the time, my last lap. As I passed him, Marty had by now done 10 laps to my five, he looked a little dejected and I decided our 12th place was not as important as riding a bit with Marty.

So we rode around the course talking about this, that and nothing for about 45 minutes. It has been awhile since I have actually ridden with Marty and in spite of how he felt, he seems to ride better and better every time I ride with him.

Back to Mike and I, we had decided to go until the rain came, and when it came it came with a deluge, it was sticking awful! It poured and poured for 30 minutes and the fast course turned into a slimy mess of slippery mud with little or no traction. Mike just happened to be passing the tent as the rain began falling in buckets and dived under the tent. We spoke and sat around for about 10 minutes and Phil came through, riding to 6th overall, looking like he had just gone to a spa for a complete mud bath. Phil said something inspiring and took off. Of course to me I thought he had just lost his mind. It wasn’t that bad? I had been on the course it was that bad. He and Marty too, by this time where literally covered head to toe in mud. At this point Mike and I decided that racing in the rain for a minor placing wasn’t wise and much to my surprise, the race was called, minutes after we had decided to call it quits.

The talk of the day was tire selection, and I must confess, no tire would have been at home in the conditions that we rode in, but my Geax Saguaro (sp) being run at 20 psi for a front tire did far better than I expected, especially considering it is one of my favorite tires for riding here in Italy. I am still impressed by how well it worked. Other than that, all the parts I used worked flawlessly, nothing terribly shocking, as our team has sponsors that make reliable and exceptionally useful parts. Our placing, 22nd or something is a reflection on our desire not to race in pouring rain, rather than anything else. It was wet, I am glad I am not there right now. Today I have to pull the whole bike apart to fix the 1000 creaks and groans it picked up riding in that mud, I may miss riding in Germany, but I don’t miss the weather.

Phil and Marty may not have won, but they sure rode like champions. Both have real jobs and real life responsibilities that keep them from training like the pros, and the fact that both rode until they called the race speaks more about their character than their placing. Mike and I had fun, and we don’t need anymore character, we have cool facial hair!

SiS is next! Can’t wait.

Gads, been a long time

I have done 3 races and had a bit of fun on the bike, however just never felt the need to write about any of the races.  Not much to say aside from the fact I was decidedly mid pack and in one case had a wheel fall out of my bike.  

So what has changed, nothing.  I hope to race again soon, and have a bit more fun, but doing as well as I did in Cremona seem unlikely.  I am just trying to stay interested in riding as I am just a bit more than bored with what I get to ride around here.  Road riding is great, but I have seen almost everything in the immediate region and don’t like driving to ride, and the mountain bike trails are more loose pieces of marble covered with a slippery slime like substance, which while very challenging and noisy to ride on, is not very much fun.

It is not all bad, the riding in the Garda area is some of the best I have done across the pond, I just wish it was a bit closer to us.  Maybe this weekend instead of racing I will go and ride up there and see the lake in all it’s glory.  It is a freaking awesome sight to see and then to descend down to the lake from the mountains and have a gelato then ride back to Verona is pretty cool, but I would just like to have something like the Alpine trail, or Suntop in the area to ride for a change.  Of course the one of you who reads this will likely think I am never happy with what I have, but what is true is that I like what I ride here, I just like the trails in the States a bit more.  

As for the races, Finale Ligure was the high point, we took 23rd over all, which is not so good, but where penalized four laps total due to some pretty bad communication and luck.  We did however take 2nd in the Single Speed teams.  We got beer, nice, but I would have rather had the four laps and a top ten finish in the overall.  I had a bunch of fun, and although I only rode 25 miles, I think, watching and helping the couple of solo riders we knew and yelling random abuse at the other racers made it worth the trip. 

Riva Bike Marathon could be really fun, but the course may as well be set up for road bikes.  WIth the exception of a couple of spots the whole course is pretty easy and the real challenge is the climbing.  Well the climbing is hard, but an in shape me would have found it fun like last year, but instead I am a not so in shape Ed and found it very painful and boring.  I think because I was having so little fun riding that getting off and walking was easy.  Pushing myself just didn’t seem needed.  In hindsight I should have cared just a bit more and would have gone a lot faster.  As it was I was just happy to finish the 90k route with a reasonable time.  Only SSer, but who cares, I didn’t win, so I was just some schmuck who finished.  Oh, that and the course marshall who directed me the wrong way as I came into town ticked me off.  The guy was on the phone with his wife/girlfriend/boyfriend or whatever and directed me the wrong way entirely.  He cost me at least five minutes and a bunch of places, whatever.  I apparently cared a little more than I thought. Maybe next year….

Single speed Euros was fun, but my wheel fell out.  Nuff said.  The tour prior to the race was excellent and I may do a little bit on that in a few days, but the race itself was a big let down for me personally.  Mechanicals are never good, and in spite of the fact I would not have won, a good placing for the Single Speed Italy and ex pat americans was in order, I felt awful, but think I could have pulled something out.  Oh well, who would have thought, but Dresden is a way cool city, worth the trip just to hang out there for a couple of days.  Good people and good beer.  

Pictures to follow, or not.  Need to see if I can find any I like.

Isaac and Mike, great to have seen you guys, look forward to riding with you guys again hopefully sooner rather than later.  Ed

Well, well, well, I have been reading another blog and it seems as if I the target of the blogger. You know the one who doesn’t have much to say about much I don’t post much and don’t have a head the size of a hot air balloon. So in deference to his extremely popular blog and my much less so popular blog I will avoid using the words “not much to post” and “took pics on my ride today” and stick to his uncanny ability to pump up his own inflated ego.

Racing is not really the best way to have fun, 24 hour racing makes racing even less fun and as I did one last weekend I have spent the past week trying to recover my will to ride. Not as easy as one might think. I don’t want to see any mountain bikes at all, I don’t want to ride the road bike and I want my freaking calf to quit cramping. I broke a chain and raked the teeth of my crank set up the back of my calf causing an immediate cramp and bunches of blood, but the cramp won’t go away, it seizes up at random times while walking the dogs or riding causing a bit of pain. Not that it bothers anyone else, but I care about me, at least when things hurt me.
So the race went well, I got one flat, one broken chain, one continually dragging rear disc brake, 16 hours of rain and mud more slick than ice. Fun, no? Well not really. The race began with a stupid long run, I hate runs to the bike, it makes me tired and hurts my feet in my cycling shoes. You must get to the bike, and although all the people competing for the overall run like sprinters, I, myself, trot slowly. As I get to the bike most everyone else is already flying onto the trail acting as if this first lap will decide the final placing of the race. NOTE TO ALL YOU GOOFY PEOPLE WHO BELIEVE THIS, IT IS THE FINAL TOTAL NUMBER OF LAPS YOU DO THAT MATTERS, NOT WHO FINISHES THE FIRST LAP FIRST.
So I cruised around dodging people, getting passed and in general saying hi to folks I have met at previous races and members of the Los Lobos club. It was kind of nice, well really I felt good so I was having fun and for the first 8 hours it was pretty much just like that, ride along have a good time and enjoy the off and on again rain. It all changed as I stopped at 10 PM to grab some food and take a quick shower and have a few beers before I went off to sleep for a bunch of hours because my partner in the duo class had gone home and wasn’t going to ride anymore that night, so why should I? Well we were in first place! What me in first place at any race, no. So instead of kicking back and having a good time I looked for a coke, some meat and some chips and ate as much as I could as fast as I could and was back out on the course.
Overnight I managed to do a bunch of laps, but our rival teams had two riders going all night, not one. (I should clarify it was cumulative not cooperative for the lap total) So for every two and half I did, they did four. It was mentally wearing to pass people, and know I was still losing laps. I managed a brave “I can do it” face until 0400 and just had to sit down for a few minutes and promptly fell asleep for an hour. Upon waking I jumped up and realized I was really really hungry. So I ate and ate and ate and then finally left the dry safety of the Lobos tent city for seven more hours of fun in the rain.
As the race continued parts of the course where closed due to danger for the riders, and as the course was modified we got to ride new and more slippery sections of “less” dangerous trails. Well they where wider than the stuff they closed off, so when I fell I had less chance of smashing a tree with my face, but more of a chance of smashing the ground with my face. Fun, fun, fun. I made it until noon, when, generally speaking most 24 hour races stop, when I crashed. 

At this point I was standing up and riding more than sitting, and I won’t tell you exactly why, just think water, mud, 17 hours and a nice light and normally comfortable saddle and well I hope your imagination takes you to why I was standing. So I was pedaling down a pretty straight slippery flat section of double track when I lost concentration for a second lost my front wheel and fell way faster than it took you to read this. It hurt, not just my pride, as a few people saw me, but my wrist too. It felt like a mild sprain and hurt like a mild sprain and I needed a reason to hang up the old cleats.
At this point we couldn’t catch first place and third was too far behind to catch us so why not take advantage of the excuse? I could have taken some advil and kept on going, or eat a bunch of grilled Pork and sit down and relax. Well relaxing seemed the order of the day. The pork was very good. Thanks Stefano.
All in all a pretty good race. I am recovered physically at least, my legs felt good two days after the race, but I am not motivated to ride at all. Bikes are bringers of pain, not the fun machines they where prior to the race. Another week maybe the fun will return, but today it is drizzling and instead of riding I am typing this drivel. I need three more hours this week to reach 18 hours riding, but what the hell, I like popcorn and petting our dogs, so I will eat popcorn and pet the dogs and think about riding, that should help my fitness level, right?

I had a good race and had some bad luck, some good luck, thanks to SingleStoff and the Lobos guys and took second overall. Not a bad weekend, I just hope to ride as well in a month in Finale,

For those of you who are interested, King Kages rock, not a single lost bottle for me but others lost bottles everywhere, the Avid brake I used where very good, aside from the constant dragging which turned out to be the fault of a bad bleeding job by a local shop, I used Kenda and Maxxis tires, the crossmarks where not great in the mud, the Karmas not any better, but no tires would have been good on this course. Who else? Oh a great frame by Stoic cycles that is now being painted and the best handle bars in the world Luv Handles by Groovy Cycles. Oh and I used several products for energy from Hammer nutrition to keep me fueled physically. Mentally, well I am never stable there. Hope you are all well and next time I hope some funny stuff happens because it is more fun to read about my failures than successes. Of course I have very few successes so I won’t have to wait too long to write something funny, to me at least.

Racing, but no pics

I raced and had a good time, after the hour long registration process. God, if it could be any harder to try to race here I would stop. Maybe I will, it is not what I call user friendly.

But back to how cool I am. I rode 45 K and 1800 meters of climbing in 2:47 and some very small change. I ruled the SIngle Speed category! Oh, but there wasn’t one, so I ruled nothing. I did rule the walking up the 18% gravel road climb that was 1 K long but ended up being about 4 K total. Well, I beat all the other people walking I saw. That was something yes?

Okay so how did it all go, that is what I am asking myself and you, the poor unfortunate person reading this is wondering. Well, it went well. I am not in the best shape of my life, but I have a reasonable base of fitness, so I can ride pretty quick, not fast mind you, but quick and in burst of quickness.

The first climb was literally a 4 K slog up a freaking steep climb in which we gained 600 meters of altitude. Unfortunately I needed to walk a bit of the climb, about a half a K at the top, but otherwise I was doing pretty well. As I passed people, and there where a lot of people to pass, you had to bump elbows and yell at them to let you through, it stunk. I mean if you hear someone yelling at you Destra Destra (right right) you should move, but not these goofs they just sat spinning away in the granny gear looking around for god knows what. I think maybe the Easter Bunny. It was like they all had blinders on. Arriving at the first climb, two things became crystal clear, a 21t rear cog may have been in order and even though I had walked I felt pretty good. So I took off as fast as I could.

It was a paved goat trail, as I had expected, but it was fast and more or less fun because it was so fast. Here again I passed people who either seemed afraid of descending or had brake issues. Not sure which, but I had some massive brake fade nearing the bottom of the descent and nearly hit a rock wall, not fun, but invigorating, because I was alive!

After the climb we had a series of rollers, up and down trails and paths through vineyard, which although pretty produced no challenges and let a ton of people get back behind me, well all except for the dude who crashed, broke his face and was being taken out by medics. I think he was trying to catch some of the pros and pushed a little to hard. It kind of brought me back to reality. I was not going to win, but I wanted to finish in under three hours. That was my race.

After seeing dude all messed up I backed off a bit, and stopped trying to pass everyone as soon as I caught them, I waited until it was safeish. This proved just a bit bothersome as waiting to pass is like waiting for paint to dry, boring. Oh that and the Italians believe that you can’t pass them, EVER, because that means you might be faster than them….well yeah, I caught you right?

The race did have some small parts of single track, a nice change really, and I found most of it to be pretty good. At least one section required me to unlock my fork, and one part was a pretty technical off chamber switchback that everyone in front of me walked and I rode. I did wonder about halfway through if I had made the right decision. I had.

All things being equal the race was fun, and a test of my fitness. Not really a race I could win, or cared about winning. I had a time I wanted to beat, I had certain racers I would mark and chase down and try to beat to the finish line and certain places on climbs I had to get before I walked, I did accomplish most of my self imposed goals. I just wish I had been smarter and lined up earlier so I could have had a shot at better finish time. As always, due to my way high starting number I was literally nearly the last one off the line. Oh well, next time I will learn…. No I won’t but I will race here again. At least they let me race this time.

AAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!!!!

So two I am great posts should have been put here, however I didn’t do well at all.

One race, the 24 hour race in Sicily went very badly. Well I felt pretty okay riding a bike for the first time really, and my legs, lungs and heart all felt pretty good. A win, no way, but a good result was in order. All except for the 100kph wind. I did (officially) 6 laps, however I believe I actually did 8 before I quit (hurts a little typing that). The wind was freaking unbelievable!!! At least 100kph, with gusts well over 130-140kph. My tent literally blew away full of equipment, at least 150 pounds of gear flying across the camping area. It was not fun. Sicily was, the race was not.

The course was, and I mean for real, run through a cow pasture. Freshly cut grass marked the course, so I mean you knew where the course went because the grass on either side of the course was higher than the trail. No fun at all. It wasn’t hard, it just was bad, real bad. I had not motivation to ride around a cow pasture for 24 hours in the wind. More excuses…. good ones, but still….. excuses.

Next race I was denied entry. Why? I dunno but as it was pouring down rain, I cared, however not as much as if the trails had looked awesome and it had been sunny. I will try again next Monday! I hope. Me

I have had a few nice rides lately

Garda Lake is soooo muuuuuuucccccchhhhhh better than riding around here. I knew that but had never ridden with anyone who knew the area, well that changed when I did a few rides with some single speedy guys from Verona. Good for me, and I hope to take a couple of my friends up there to ride some pretty good, almost scary singletrack.

So where to next because it looks like we have one more year to look around Europe looking for good single track and eat good food. Well Brescia was chosen, because a super nice and funny fellow by the name of Marcello was doing a ride up there, and I invited myself right along.

The trails reminded a little like some of the trails around cities in NorCal and Seattle. I would say nothing special, but over here the trails are great for two reasons. One it is close to a city and two it had real life single track, and it had rocks and roots and I needed to concentrate, which was massively fun. I will go back and do it again. The boys at Stella cycles are great and Marcello led an awesome Sunday ride. Three more hours next time. Ed

 

So how long is too long to post?  I think for me it is more than five or six months.  So, in my case and at least rationalizing to myself, this post is right on time.

 

I have been riding, sick and then rode today.  So really, aside from being sick, I have been normal.  Well, for me, normal.  Today was my first ride in over a week and in my personal little world that is a very long time. Being ill the same week it stinking poured rain was good planning on my side, however not riding for so long was not. 

 

Being well aware how I was going to feel, bad, slow and pretty well useless, I decided I should inflict my company on a couple of local Single speeding riding buddies.  I feel badly for that, but I needed more motivation and knew as soon as the legs got heavy and felt weak returning home would be too easy if I stuck around the house.  So Verona (really a small town near by) was the starting point. 

 

Leaving the parking lot everything I feared was true, I felt like a 38 year old 18 pack a day smoker with the legs of a three-minute-old baby deer.  Yeah I felt great, and I really thought about cutting the ride short and drinking coffee all morning long, but the good weather is coming and feeling good for races is a lot better than feeling like the above described smoking deer.  So the pedals kept turning and wheels kept rolling and I took pictures. My sorry shape doesn’t matter to anyone but me so here is the stuff that is better.