Combustication as a welcomed vacation

Tomorrow morning I am leaving for the Mancation, a break from gravity, hypocrisy, and the perils of being in 3-D. People have asked me where I'm going, and the only half-assed answer I can muster is "Colorado and Utah... maybe Moab."

That's because I have signed up for someone else's program. Without the wherewithal to come up with my own plan for a vacation, I decided to hop on board the fun train with Big Ring and Curvy Butt and head out West to ride with The Goat. We are at his mercy when it comes to the time and place of our rides. I do not know where we might ride, aside from Moab, but I am pretty sure The Goat will not disappoint.


Some options have been discussed as far as routes go VIA a string of emails, but I've just been skimming them. I know it's not gonna suck, and if it does, I'm sure it will be the good kind of suck as opposed to the bad kind.

I had a hard time picking which bike to ride, the Superbeast or the Misfit diSSent Brontoawesomeous Meatplow V.5. Although the MDBMV.5 currently has a squishy fjork on the front (where fjorks belong), I felt inclined to pack the Superbeast.

Why?

Moab.

As soon as I heard that, all I could picture was an able bodied me hucking carelessly off ledge after ledge with nary a repercussion or worry about pinch flats or my certain lack of skills. Sure it's gonna be a PITA, what with it's one gear propelling all that squish and all, but that's just the way it's gonna be. I wanted to try a little 1X10 action, but my lack of recent motivation and actual effort has kept that from being an option. I've been told that even Big Ring is leaving the SS behind for this trip, but whatever. It will feel like the old days when not everybody rode a single speed... just skinny trendsetters.

The other reason I picked The Superbeast? It hasn't been ridden anywhere other than North Carolina, and that is a shame. This bike needs a vacation more than I do, although I don't really need a vacation... but whatever again.

Another another reason?

A quick release seatpost clamp. We're riding the Whole Enchilada, and this post will go down and up and then down again and probably back up once more.

I don't plan on shooting any video whilst there. I think there are enough videos of Porcupine Rim already, and I don't think I'll have much to add. Maybe I'll take out my camera, but more than likely I'll count on the others for images while I supply humor and good looks to the mix.

Or maybe I'll bring the GoPro after all... who knows what I might digitally capture?

Speaking of which...

While I'm on vacation, I will be celebrating the 1st anniversary of my ankle incident from last year.



My right ankle is still misshaped, tender, lumpy, sore, enlarged, and annoying in that it messes with my symmetry, and I so desire symmetry in my life. I haven't felt any "pain" since March, but it definitely reminds me that it's there every day.

I don't plan on getting hurt on this vacation. My last time in Moab was all about upping my game.


This time it will be more about playing the game and living to tell about it, which I will do when I get back on Oct 6th.

I'm feeling kinda funny but not

Past the Meh-way Point of the "season" and after the Mancation, is there anything else to look forward to in 2011?

Yes.

I think I'm leaning towards racing at the North Carolina Single Speed Championship coming up on Oct 22. Put together by a friend, sponsored by friends, a short drive away (a bit longer of a ride), a course I like, and only single speeders on the course so no one has to say "Get out of my way, I'm on a single speed" on the climbs. I'm somewhere around 95% go on this race, reserving 5% for the possibility that my judgement may currently be clouded by the fact that I am going on my fifth day without a beer.

After that, there is the Double Dare in the Pisgah National Forest; back-to-back 12 hour days separated by a six hour break for sleeping, eating, and rethinking bad decisions. I don't want to do too much re-hashing of my previous experience, but I owe this race another try. Captain Morgan and myself put in a valiant effort in 2008 on fixed gears to almost end the first day tied for 2nd place, but we finished in a state of hypothermia ten minutes past the cut-off time and were DQ'ed. This time Zac and I will be going for the win, but our bikes will be freewheeling, and our seatposts will be properly assembled before we go into the woods.

I called Eric "PMBAR Honcho" Wever the other night to ask him about water filters. In an effort to save weight, I thought maybe carrying something like this might reduce the amount of water I would have to carry.

I couldn't remember how I got through 12 hours and 10 minutes of riding all those years ago, but thanks to my time traveling blog, I was able to find that information.

In 2008 I consumed:

28oz of water

22oz of Gatorade (I lost a full bottle of Gatorade somewhere in the darkness)

18oz of PBR

Victory for finding the pertinent information, but fail on thinking it would help. There will no longer be PBR on the course, so I can not include that in my hydration plans this year. A better plan must be planned. I plan on planning that plan sometime in the near future. At least that's the plan as of now.

So that's it, two more races in 2011. One that I probably can't win, and one that could possibly be won if we do everything right and nothing goes wrong for 24 hours.

How hard could that be?

One more post on Monday, and then the Mancation begins. Speaking of which, I'll be hanging out in the Denver airport for eight hours on Tuesday waiting for Big Ring and Curvy Butt to show up if anyone wants to sit in Starbucks and play "caffeine chicken" with me.

More Interbike with a side of Bacon

Only three more blog days left before my next extended blog hiatus, Mancation. I've got some shit to squeeze out of my head, so prepare for some randomness.

A few more Interbike thoughts...

Although I ended up on the same plane with Namrita and we shared transportation to the Sands Expo Center in a vehicle piloted by the rudest driver in Vegas, she was not the first person I saw inside Interbike. That would happen to be Rob Mitchell, CEO of MOOTS, who I have not seen since before the break-up. Rob is one of the reasons I had a hard time leaving MOOTS back in 2009. He's such a nice guy that when I locked the keys to the MOOTS penthouse inside the MOOTS penthouse on the Fourth of July, he did not freak out (I did). He just started trying to scale the aluminum siding up to a second story window. He has welcomed me into his home, and he made me feel special... not the special you felt when you climbed a rope in gym class, but special all the same.

I also ran into a few folks for the first time out in Vegas. I finally met Eric McKeegan from Dirt Rag, Jen from Walz Caps, and Guitar Ted from Twentynineinches.com (who took the non-blurry version of this photo).

I shoulda done my hair.

While at Interbike, I learned of something new and horrible. I knew they were remaking Footloose, but I did not know they were remaking all of Kevin Bacon's worst movies.

"Fixed gear, no brakes. Can't stop, don't want to either."

For fuck's sake, who's gonna pay top dollar to see this movie? I'll admit that it will get on my Netflix queue, but I'm sure I will regret it shortly after punching the > button. I did see a lot of messengers getting hit by cars in the trailer, so I'm pretty sure The Pie will love this movie. Perhaps I'll learn a thing or two about how to do my job better, like jumping chain link fences, doing 360° drops off garages, riding over parked cars, or how to bust a taxi drivers mirror off with my lock and avoid crooked cops.

I can't wait to see the remake of The Air Up There.

I wish I coulda went to Interbike ten years ago, before the internet had a chance to ruin it. I'd already seen almost everything I wanted to see on my computer monitor before I set foot in Vegas. I can also see why the show is NOT for consumers on multiple levels. It's just not what the show is about, and it shouldn't be. I didn't bother too many people working the booths since it seemed like they had business to do with industry type folk. For the most part I only bothered people I knew, but if some guy from Continental of MRP asked me if I had any questions while I was fondling their product, I mighta posed a query or two. I didn't grab any stickers, posters, or any other such stuff to cram into my bike room, but I did drink free beer and accept the gift of a practical hat or two. In short, I'm glad I went so I will no longer wonder what it would be like to go, but unless I have some sort of agenda, I have no plans to ever return.

I did bother Mike Ferrentino while I was there. He's always entertaining and has a point of view that is, dare I say, very individual. He pointed out the crabon V10 frame that was on display that had nary a scratch on it from this impressive wreck:



Since I did not get enough of Mike at Interbike, I sat down to a little MTV (Mike Television) yesterday. Over thirty minutes of Mike'isms, including horse tranquilizers, woobley things and ground-up midgets.

Thank you consequence

I owe some thanks for the last week of my life.

Thank you to everybody who made sure I didn't run out of beer tokens on Sunday. Although I promised to dispose of them properly, I still managed to have three tokens left over when the kegs ran dry. Don't worry, I'll save them for next year.

Thank you, Eric Wever of Pisgah Productions. Because of "Wooden Nickelgate", I decided to ride back to the first checkpoint at the New Belgium Urban Assault to verify that there were no beads being handed out. Josh the Wonderboy swore that we only needed the meat stick, but I didn't want to get burned on a technicality. We rode an extra mile and waited at two lights. Assuming an average speed of 20MPH (that would be on the high side) we lost @3.5 minutes, give or take.

1st Honor Roll Bikes 1:04:12.6
2nd Bike Source 1:19:46.4
3rd Bike Source 1:22:29.9
4th The Town Bike 1:22:42.6
5th TEAMDICKY 1:23:07.8

Damn you Eric... I mean thank you... no, damn you. See you next month.

Thank you, Josh, organizer of the Urban Assault, for keeping a steady supply of New Belgium going for more than seven hours. The Pie was so happy to see me come home at 8:00pm.

Thank you Pie, for letting me play with my little friends all day.

And Interbike thanks....

Thank you, people of Swiftwick, for giving me a luxurious sectional to sleep on, a place to do my "work", for feeding me, and pouring beer down my throat. You made this little man's dream come true. Oh yeah, and thanks for the sweet socks.

Thank you, Ride for Reading, for letting me take part in the book delivery to Peterson Elementary.

Honestly, my absolute favorite moment from Interbike... that and watching someone pee in a cup at Cross Vegas.

Thank you Ergon, for putting up with a bunch of freeloaders for two hours.

I caught up with more people standing in one place during the Ergon party than I did all week walking around the Sands Expo Center.

Thank you, Eddie O'Dea, for wearing those super tight pants Namrita bought for you to the party.

We were laughing with you, I swear.

Thank you, Dirt Rag, for getting me my "Working Media" credentials thus keeping me from having to buy a $19 sandwich.

Thank you, to my son (The Boy), for letting me use his airline bennies to get to Vegas. It was a little nerve wracking to get the last seat on a 300+ passenger plan, but whatever. I got there and back, and that's what mattered.

Thank you, Dan Hensley, for giving me a new Walz cap, which is now my new favoritest cap I own.

Thank you, Graham Gerdeman, for holding my hand when I was scared and all alone, and for constantly having your camera out capturing moments in time I wish I could forget.

Thank you, Earl Hazekamp, for boosting my under-inflated ego. While at Interbike, he had his photo taken with celebrities such as...

The Situation,

Jason Statham (I thought he'd be taller),

and me. Imagine my surprise.

And thanks to anybody else that I forgot. This last week has been kinda fuzzy, and I am currently drying out my liver and brain cells.

2011 New Belgium Urban Assault Race

Up at 6:00, eat a couple of Honey Stinger Waffles washed down with coffee, out the door at 7:00 to pick up Josh the Wonderboy, and headed back out the door again to the race around 8:00. On the ride over to the venue, The Wonderboy reminded me that he hasn't "raced" since the summer of 2006 (Trans Rockies and Shenandoah). He also hasn't ridden much for fun since then either, so we were going into the race with mild expectations, to say the least. Being that I didn't have much of a chance to research routes because I was too busy using my spare time at Interbike answering bonus time quiz questions and doing word finds, I felt we were not only hampered by a lack of fitness, but a lack of proper planning as well.

We started in the first wave, thanks to an 80% score on the once again ridiculously hard quiz. With our bikes strategically placed and a decent run off the line, we were one of the first few teams on our bikes. As we headed to the first mystery location, it was obvious the top teams were going there first as well.

Upon our arrival, we were handed a couple sticks of beef jerky, and I checked the board for the clue to the second mystery location. It was just a closeup of some teeth on a mosaic skull, something I recognized from uptown Charlotte. Not a problem for someone who knew what the hell it was, but I felt bad for the out-of-towners who were going to have to figure that one out.

Next we headed to the Common Market, where we had to assemble a CLIF bar logo brick puzzle, put in on a saucer sled, and lift it above our heads. The Wonderboy had his shit together, and he worked out the puzzle almost on his own. Once lifted and a nod of success came our way, I told Josh I wanted to head back to the first mystery checkpoint to make sure that there was no bead being handed out and that we only needed the beef jerky. I didn't want to have another PMBAR wooden nickle experience.

Of course I was wrong, and we only needed the meat stick, so it was a waste of valuable time. We then headed out to the Smelly Cat for some time on the Big Wheels. After clearing that obstacle we made the long journey over to Ray's Splash Planet. Due to the cold weather, we didn't have to go down a water slide, but instead I had to hold onto a wheel while Josh the Wonderboy pushed me around like a wheelbarrow. It hurt like hell, but we made short order of it, only slowed down on the course by less apt wheelbarrow crews.

The skull was uptown, and we had to ride through NFL football traffic to get there. I've always noticed that NFL fan/pedestrians never seem to be aware that when they are walking across the road (or just plain IN the road) that they need to watch for moving vehicles. There was some bobbing and weaving going on, but we got to the skull, traded our meat stick for a bead, and moved on to Bike Source. Once there, it was an easy ride on the handlebars of a BMX bike grabbing flags, and the next thing you know, we were rolling to the Mint Museum. At our final stop, The Wonderboy had to use a KEEN boot/innertube slingshot to fire children's sandals at me while I caught them in a bag from a stationary position. The Wonderboy lived up to his name, and he went two for two into the bag.

We headed for the finish line.

Smelling the sweet hint of if not victory, than at least a finish line, in the air, The Wonderboy told me to pick up the pace.

"Might as well make it hurt."

I lifted the pace, I looked back, and The Wonderboy had dropped back. I slowed down, and was told that wasn't what he wanted.

"I meant hurt, like stinging hurt. Not like pain hurt."

We came into Independence Park from the wrong direction, found the finish line, jumped up and down and over and through the final obstacles, and came across the line in fifth place overall... outta 300 (or was it 600?) teams. Not too shabby.

From that point, beer was drank...

photo cred: Cathie Docherty

Shenanigans were had...

photo cred: Lunchbox

More beer drinking...

Impromptu dance parties attended.

photo cred: Lunchbox

And from there, bars were hopped, food was drank, and more beer was disposed of in a proper manner.

The New Belgium Urban Assault was once again a well oiled blitzkrieg of planned fun and unplanned mayhem. Props to those guys pulling this thing off from city to city to city.

Am I in for next year?

I can answer that question better when this headache goes away.

BTW: My second Dirt Rag/Interbike post is up for your pleasure:

Dicky Does Vegas: Part Two

If you missed it...

Dicky Does Vegas: Part one

Interbike Day One

Brought to you by Dirt Rag (fueled by Swiftwick).

Read it over here.

"press 2 for intimate inquiries and room service"

That's the second thing I heard when I called about shuttle services in Vegas last night.

Hmmmm...

I'm only going to be able to lightly touch on quite a few topics, so bear with me.

Planning this trip at the last second has thrown everything in a tizzy. The timing could be worse, but not by much. I'll be gone tomorrow through Saturday, and then on Sunday I'll be racing the New Belgium Urban Assault with Josh the Wonderboy.

Yes, he's coming out of retirement to do this event. I had to go looking for a new teammate when I found out the other half of my 2010 pairing had already acquired a new partner. All the pre-race stuff will fall to me (the bonus time quiz on Wednesday and mystery checkpoint puzzle on Thursday) while I'm in Vegas. It's a good thing we're just doing this for fun, as I won't have any time to check my potential routes or really dig into the questions on the quiz. They were difficult last year, to say the least:

New Belgium first offered dental benefits to employees back in 1992. The first person to use the benefits for a cleaning had how many cavities at that appointment?

a) More than the number of rings around Saturn
b) Less than the number of goals scored by the Swedish hockey team at the 1964 Olympic finals
c) {(x, y, z) | 3x + 2y − 21z = 0}
d) 2

Since I'm coming back a little over a week before I leave for my Mancation in Colorado/Utah, I already had to pack my bike up in a box for shipping.

More about that later.

I also recently committed to racing at The Double Dare with Zac as my teammate. It took some family planning to pull it off, but I should be there for another attempt at 24 hours of racing over 36 hours.

Shoot me.

More about that later.

I wanted to say a few things about a couple products I've tried out over the last few weeks, but that will be postponed to a time when I have nothing else to talk about.

While I'm at Interbike, I plan on doing as much as I can fit in. This would include going to Cross Vegas tomorrow night and a Ride for Reading book delivery on Thursday. Dirt Rag will officially be (and is) covering Interbike in an official sense, but I was asked to blog while I'm out there in a very unofficial manner in exchange for food. This is a good thing, as I plan to blow my entire meal budget on this $19 sandwich I've heard so much about. I will try to link up anything I do there while I'm gone here, but no promises. I heard our room has cable TV with lots of adult programming, and I sure do love me some Murder She Wrote.

Angela likes to make it clear from the start that she is not down with DP scenes.

Operation "It's a Go" is a go.

It's official. I bought my ticket to Vegas. I will be going to Interbike on Wednesday.

The excitement is palpable. I invite you to stop by my house before Tuesday night and palp it. Interbike is quite modern, in that there is more internet interactivity than I would have imagined. I was amazed to see that as a registered attendee, I have my own page on the IB site.

And apparently I can be whoever I want to be at Interbike:

I have not used the Interbike website for all it's worth, but I think being that I have little to no plan, there is no sense in over-planning my three day stint.

I guess I have a small plan'esque agenda. Upon finding out that Cane Creek will not be there, I feel like I can freely roam the halls looking for a new headset sponsor. I want one made out of bamboo with porcelain bearings. Failing that, I'll just stick with a 110 next year.

Industry Nine will not be there, which means that they won't see me approach Tioga about bringing the Tension Disc back.

I think they could use the momentum of the 29'er movement to get back in the wheel game. Think about how much noise you could make rolling down the trail with one of these bad boys if it were three inches bigger in diameter.

Misfit Psycles (Peter) will not be there. This means that I can take advantage of every offer of dinner, booze, and illicit activity thrown my way by other single speed frame manufacturers trying to buy their way into my world for 2012. Fair warning; though I can be bought, my price is quite high.

Dirt Rag will not be there, at least not with a booth of any sorts, which means that I will not be able to be a booth babe as stated on my IB profile. Grant already has the job at the Swiftick booth, as he won the pre-Interbike moob-off last week.

Of course, Thad "No Moobs is Bad Moobs" Hoffman was the judge.

Niner will not be there, so I won't get the chance to convince them that they need to give me three 15mm axle rigid crabon froks in assorted colors to suit my mood.

As to the other "Dick Supporters", I am not sure who will be there. Twin Six usually is, and I need to sell them on the idea of an all black jersey with one white stripe and a gray six on it (maybe with a skull as well). Gray, black, and white is the new rainbow. ProGold may be there, but if Bruce Dickman is in their booth making noise, I can just hear about their new products wherever I might be standing as I'm sure he will be talking over and above any other noises in the surrounding area. Camelbak will probably be there, but I will not make my presence known, as I intend to lift a Charge LR from their booth (it's easier than asking). That Butt Stuff , Raxter, and Backcountry Research will not be there, but being that they are smaller'esque companies, I think they're smarter to send any additional marketing money my way as opposed to attending Interbike. I will bring that up at our next meeting. I don't know if Genuine Innovations will be there or not. Being that they are THE NAME in CO2 inflation, maybe they realize they just don't need to advertise anymore. George from Bike29 will not be there, but he'll always be in my heart (in a totally hetero way). Last, but not least, Santa Cruz will be there, which means that I need to stand back and observe the Silverback in his natural environment and see if he is approachable before I get too close (within his stubby arm's reach).

That would have been a lot easier to write had I just looked at the Interbike list of exhibitors first.

Meh.

Interbike Chicken

I've been called on my bluff.

The Boy has come back with a ticket to Vegas that has a relatively reasonable price. A sponsor has stepped to the plate and offered me a place to sleep that most likely will not smell of urine.

It is now up to me to see if I want to go the next level.

If Peter were the person offering up accommodations, I would have to decline immediately. I see him being more of a cross between Godzilla and the Lone Biker of the Apocalypse let loose in Vegas.



It was Grant at Swiftwick who called last night and changed my possible direction and course. The last time he got me out on a road trip back in 2008, I spent the next year riding on a ti bike wearing a cornflower blue kit. Knowing Grant, he'll talk me into roaming the halls of Interbike Thursday morning wearing the all new 2012 Swiftwick Body Compression Sock (with linked toe, fingers, hood, and crotch) aptly named the Swiftdick.

I could pull it off.

Look for it next year at your local Swiftwick retailer or online.

I'm leaning towards going. It would make great blog fodder, I would see some folks that I haven't seen in awhile, and I could finally stop bitching about not going. Some of you say that Interbike sucks. Others say that Vegas sucks. Whatever. Something doesn't suck until I say it sucks.

You sir, Mr Hater, suck.

I must now decide if the pittance being asked in exchange for airfare is worth this once in a lifetime experience (once, since I'm assured it will suck). I shall decide over the weekend, and either way you can expect Interbike related posts more often than you might like in the near future.

Oh Interbike, where art thou?

Without fail, I talk about going to Interbike right about this time every year. I never end up going, and I hardly pursue it further than just talking about it here on the blog. Why should this year be any different?

I just remembered that The Boy has me on his list for flight benefits (my son works in the wonderful world of aviation). This means I may or may not be able to get there on the cheap, depending on whether or not there are empty seats on a flight to Vegas. This is an impetus for a chain of thought. Maybe there's some sort of possibility I could make it out there to rub shoulders with the industry elite, or perhaps just to rub the shoulders of the industry elite.

Herein lies the problematic parts of the equation (assuming I could get on a flight for $0 or close to it):

I am Dicky Non Grata (an unwelcome Dicky). Although I am unofficially the Chief of Industry, I do not have an invite to the party. I was not forward thinking enough to contact any of my sponsors to see if they had any leftover golden tickets, and I don't have time to change my Dirt Rag Contributor business cards to Dirt Rag Important Guy Who Writes Stuff. I could possibly be smuggled onto the premises inside Dejay's facial hair. This option has not been ruled out by any means, but I have been informed that security measures are in place just to stop these kinds of shenanigans.

I have no place to stay. I have money with which I could obtain a place to stay, but this would definitely fall into the "unbudgeted bike expense" column, thus taking money away from stupid, ill-advised, regrettable tire purchases in the off-season. I would need floor space for my evening's slumber, something slightly better than under a slot machine... but only slightly.

There is no reason for me to be there. I am not in search of a new sponsor of any type, not that I'm not willing to listen to proposals. I'm just not actively doing anything that would require activity in an active sense. I have no agenda, no purpose, and nothing to gain but gain itself. Beer, blog fodder, camaraderie, and blatant self promotion by means of slurring "Hey, do you read my blog?" to random passerby's. That's the best I could hope for.

So what will it take for me to go to the 2011 Interbike? A miracle on the part of an airline's inability to fill a flight to capacity, a floor that can accommodate a small man that doesn't smell too strongly of urine (the floor not the small man), and someone that can vouch that I won't steal anything that isn't nailed down.

I don't think that's too much to ask, do you?

I've tried my facefriends for some help. Not so much:

This plan is being pursued, in as much that I have contacted The Boy and inquired about flights. This plan has not yet reached " half-assed" status, but it is far beyond the "1/10 ass" status that any previous Interbike travel plan has ever reached.

Will this be the year that Dicky goes to Interbike?

Probably not, but we can all hope.

See you in 2013?

Yesterday's post kinda sucked. Although the Shenandoah Mountain 100 is well up there in the top five, all time best endurance races I've ever participated in, I can honestly say that I'm a bit burned out on it. I was ready to go on a SM100 hiatus after last year, but finishing with such a lousy time due to mechanicals was not the note I wanted to leave on. So I came back this year (my sixth time in a row), got an acceptable finish time, and had a shit ton of fun just hanging out before/after the race.

photo cred: Shenandoah Mountain Touring

Bar none, no other race I've ever done has this level or organization. 600 riders and they still manage to feed you two decent meals (three if you like to chew on bagels for breakfast), they did NOT run out of beer this year, the aid stations ran like clockwork, the medical crew addressed a lot of riders' needs (for more news on Mike Simonson's condition, go here), the course is impeccably well marked (and awesome)... and coming home with a $60+ tire for a miserable 10th place? I'll take it.

photo cred: Shenandoah Mountain Touring

Sure, I'm almost not in the picture, but at least I eventually figured out that I was supposed to be there before all the adulation from the amorous crowd faded away.

No SM100 for me next year. I definitely want to take a break from it, so I can at least miss it a little before I go back.

I have to say, there were some fun moments out in the woods. Going back and forth with Chris Strout, picking on Shane Schreihart when I caught up to him due to his broken Crank Bros pedal (I wish all my competitor's rode CB pedals), helping another rider get his bike back up the side of the mountain, and just generally goofing off "all day long." With that many riders on the course, it always feels like you're slicing and dicing all the way to the finish line. It's nice to not get too lonely out there.

The Shenandoah Mountain 100 never disappoints.

I do, but it doesn't.

The 2011 Shenandoah Mountain 100 thing

I don't even know where to begin or where to head once I start. I didn't bother with reinstalling my computer after mounting the squishy fjork nor did I remember to wear a watch at the race. I had no sense of time out on the course, no real plan to speak of... I just rode a hundred miles.

When I passed the first aid station, I grabbed a bottle to carry in my pocket so I could ride all the way to aid station three without stopping. I was reprimanded for not trading out a bottle, so I said I was sorry, and tossed it back. Without a way to know how much time was passing, I hardly kept up on my hydration and food all day. With so many single speeders (70+?) in the 600 rider field, I had no idea who was ahead or behind me, but it seemed like somebody was always around me. I can remember somewhere around the 30 mile mark, I saw the sun break through the clouds and hit the ground for the first time. There were times spent in familiar company, and other times making new friends. I was just out for a hundred mile ride.

The squishy fjork certainly took something away from what I like to do. I can only describe it as fully experiencing a one night stand while wearing three condoms. There was something missing in the tactile feel, and a certain element of danger and risk were wholly removed. I can't say I enjoyed myself as thoroughly as I have in the past knowing that half the thrill in doing the SM100 was in the challenge, both going up and coming down. Mistake made and duly noted.

Somewhere on the big climb up Shenandoah Mountain, my knee started to throb. I had not worn a knee warmer at the start like I shoulda. I thought Icy Hot woulda done the trick, but I was wrong. I had done the same thing at a back in 2009 (it was a bit colder) and had the same issues. Mistake made (again) and duly noted.

Had there not been an antagonist in my midst around 2/3's into the race, I might have settled into a more leisurely pace. He pushed me on the lower half of the big climb, and popped my cork before we made the legendary right hand turn going up to Reddish Knob. On the way up the second half of the climb I could feel myself getting a little rumbly in the tumbly, but I was saving my appetite for pizza and Coke. My single speed adversary du jour was nowhere in sight, and I was counting out ever seeing him again.

Miraculously he was still at aid station five when I got there, but I was not leaving without my pizza. I left out right behind him along with another single speeder, but by the time we reached the big climb to the highest point on the course, my antagonist was ahead, the other guy had fallen behind.

I was hoping that was the last I would see of this guy who was forcing me to think race type thoughts, but I caught him on the descent down Chestnut Ridge. After making the pass and moving on, I came upon a rider (Mike Simonson) being backboarded sideways down the trail on the back of an ATV. I had to wait for the woods to open up to the side before I could get around, and fortunately the Moriarty to my Holmes had still not bridged the gap.

On the final climbs, I used my pizza power to motor up the inclines, looking over my shoulder the whole way. He couldn't catch me on the final descent, so I carelessly lollygagged my way down the final double track having no idea that I would come in at 9:02 and change.

Two minutes?

Guess I shoulda wore a watch after all.

Tenth place single speed and on the "dicky deep" podium. Not too shabby for just riding a hundred miles with my head up my ass.

Boring race report?

It's a sign that I have now hit the meh-way point of the season.

Fjear The Pflug

First off, a PSA:

If you are wanting beer at the Shenandoah 100 after 10:00PM on Sunday, I suggest you go buy it now. The keg beer has ran out in the past. It will run out again. Last year, Bill Nye and I finished off the last of it right before the riots began. Scary stuff indeed. I stocked up last night, and I also bought my six Honey Stinger Waffles for breakfast on Sunday morning. I hate liking things that other people like because I'm such a rebel, but I do like these things. If I could have a nutrition sponsor, that would be it. So good, damn it. I hate them. I don't care if they are glorified cookies baked by an angel.

Once again, I was mentioned in the Shenandoah Mountain 100 race brief, THE race brief from the be all end all of all be all end alls.

"Did the Tour D Burg "experience" do anything to improve Rich Dillen's (Team Dicky) chances of doing well this year?"

Shit.

I consider this a curse, somewhat like the Sports Illustrated cover jinx.

I was not mentioned in 2006, and I ended up 1st place fixed and third overall in the NUE. I was not mentioned in 2007, and I came in 2nd place SS. I was not mentioned in 2008, and I came in 3rd place SS.

I was finally mentioned in 2009, and I came in 12th at the bottom of a "Dicky deep" podium. I was once again mentioned in 2010, and I came in a lowly 18th place... too deep for the promoters to have a "Dicky deep" podium and maintain any sort of dignity.

So even though I have good legs, altitude enriched blood, and a squishy fjörk, I am still screwed. No matter what I do, it would seem that the karmic powers that be are against me. As if I needed a more worthy foe at the SM100.

The general consensus is that The Pflug is unbeatable... within normal parameters. This has caused me to look into other abnormal avenues of approach.

Enter the The Pflug voodoo doll.

I thought this would be a great idea, at least I didn't think anyone had tried it yet. Even the desperate to beat The Pflug on a level playing field Missouri Miller isn't that smart. I went to stick him with a pin this morning, but The Voodoo Pflug tried to bite me, so I ran into the hallway closet to hide from him. The Voodoo Pflug then proceeded to loot my fridge, pee on my sectional couch, and cavort with The Pie in a lascivious manner. I asked The Voodoo Pflug to leave the premises (from the safety of the closet), and eventually he did, but only after he finished going through my tape collection (stealing my entire Dökken stockpile) and got The Pie's phone number.

Note to self: Don't make any more The Voodoo Pflugs.

I did try making a Matt Ferrari voodoo doll, but I had a hard time finding a pair of baby doll sized Carhartt pants.

I go into the Shenadoah 100 with no aspirations of winning, some dreams of making the podium, and a goal of staying as far away from The Pflug as possible. He might get pissed off if he finds out I'm going around taking donations towards the purchase of some gears for his 2012 season. He really needs to stop picking on us less than sober, poorly trained, semi-skilled riders with slightly better hair.

I'm just taking a contract out on Ferrari. He can be killed. The Pflug? Not so much.

Lingering thoughts of turgidity

Yes, I plan on running a squishy bit on the front of the Misfit diSSent Bröntöawesömeöus Meatplow V for the Shenandoah Mountain 100.

That is the plan, as of now. There have been moments of regret and shame, and I'm sure if I sit still long enough to think it all the way through, I'll change my mind.

I have done the Shenandoah 100 every year since 2006. I've done it fixed and rigid and just plain rigid. I've had some fairly decent results and some poor ones as well. I feel like it's time to do something different. This is not being done as a performance enhancement strategy. I have no delusional aspirations of challenging Gerry "The Pflug" Pflug.

BTW: I am tired of certain cycling related sites referring The Pflug as the "Pfluginator." I'm sorry, but the use of "____ -(insert vowel here)-nator" jumped the shark when the movie American Pie introduced us to a character called "Shermanator."

Are you saying "The Pflug" has anything in common with that guy, other than a smashing sense of style? Of course not. The Pflug sounds like a great name for a WWF superstar or a Scandinavian mafia hit man.

Lars: Hey boss, Nils and his crew have been shorting the till again.

Scandinavian mafia boss: Really? Call in The Pflug. Tell him to clean höuse.

Back to the fjörk.

Since no one wanted to buy the fucking thing, I'm stuck with it. By putting it on my bike, I added well over 2lbs to my race rig. I realized that I could lose two pounds from my body quite easily, but then I had another idea. Before adding the suspended part to my bike I had a bike to body weight ratio @ 1lb : 6.5lbs. If I wanted to adapt to the heavier bike, it might make more sense to increase my body weight to keep the ratio the same. I was a few pounds into carrying out my plan until I actually did the math and figured out I needed to gain something like 16.32lbs. Without the aid of 20 packs of Imodium AD or a cross gender case of PMS I was never gonna make it. I decided to bail on the plan and just remove my bike computer to attain some kind of weight savings.

Odd thing about this fjörk? I am at the very low end of the 140-160lb rider range (in riding gear), I run the highest suggested air pressure for said weight range (90-105PSI), and I still easily blow through all the travel. To be clear, I weigh less than 140 and I've been running 105PSI. I have adjusted my adjustments to deal with this situation. I will not have time to test it.

I am aware of the fact that I should be able to swap the 2.35 Rampage front tire to something in the 600 gram range, saving 1/4lb or so, but I just can't imagine doing it. If I'm running a fjörk, it is for maximum funnage on the descents, and that's where the Rampage excels.

Plus the swap would require effort, and more so if I choose to bail on the fjörk and go back to rigid at the last minute.

I had recently had some issues with launching bottles. Realizing what I had changed before the problems started, I changed them back.

No wiggle room for the back bottle means no more launched back bottle. I had moved the front cage up to keep the bottle from rubbing the back cage which was the causation of my bottle launchation.

So the big question is, will I be able to keep the rigid fork off until I leave for Stokesville on Saturday?

I keep hearing Ramponi's voice in my head saying, "Hahd in the front yahd."

That evil harpie.