No remorse, no regrets... well, maybe a few

I'm awake and alive on Monday morning, so things didn't go as planned at the Double Dare this weekend...

but,

the 2.5 hours of sleep I got Saturday night (well, Sunday morning) has left me wrecked, so all I'm saying now is that I'll have to restart my DNF-free streak today.

More tomorrow.

photo cred: Brado

I'm not sick, but something is definitely wrong

I found out why my image came up on the cyclingnews.com app yesterday.

I was used as the poster boy for the announcement of the 3rd edition of the Trans-Sylvania Epic coming in 2012.

Serious? Serious eye candy indeed.

Yes, that was me "getting serious" before I lost it and stopped being all serious and stuff. Next year's race will have a few changes (for the better), but I'm not going to talk about that since they went to all the trouble of doing that for me. Will I be there? That's what all the ladies want to know. I'm still not sure. I mean, isn't the world gonna end next year? Did they settle on a date for that yet?

Segway segue..

So, Double Dare tomorrow, starting at noon, ending at midnight, then restarting at 6:00AM (in below freezing temps), and then ending for good at 6:00PM. I've had nightmares reliving the 2008 event for three years now. Following Captain Morgan as he mashed his way up 1206 in the dark, shotgunning beers at Bradley Creek, fiddling with seatpost parts that are strewn all over Pilot Rock, walking next to a useless fixed gear machine on a leaf covered Squirrel Gap looking over my shoulder at what appeared to be the lights for a gay martian landing strip...

all to end up here...

at the finish line of day one...

ten minutes late.

Hypothermic, shelled, confused. How did we manage to end up out there for twelve hours and ten minutes?

Maybe because there was too much of this going on:

All right, maybe not just a "maybe" but a "positively because this was going on."

This year will be more of the same. Ten possible checkpoints each day. Each checkpoint placed so temptingly close together to encourage you to continue your quest and push the limits of time and space. Zac and I will be going for the win, no doubt about it. I haven't come up with a strategy as of yet, but let's all assume that whence I do, it will be grandiose in proportion and scale.

Win at all costs or come home losers.

Since I will be getting back at a disgusting time on Sunday, I will not be posting on Monday... unless I once again overshoot the time cut-off on day one and go home early on Sunday.

That could easily happen.

I'm going to hell

Not literally, well maybe, but figuratively? For sure.

I feel fat, tired, and lazy. Last night I had Puppy Chow for supper. That's not good. I've spent more hours watching the Walking Dead than I have riding my bike in the past week. I even considered having my first beer yesterday at 10:30AM, but thought better of it. I waited until 3:30PM. Maybe there is hope. Probably not.

This was forwarded to me by Seth.

I have not authenticated this yet, and I have no way to do it since I don't have an iPhone, so I'm just gonna assume it's real. It's pretty sweet to be the face of cyclingnews.com on their app.... even sweeter still is that I'm wearing my Dirt Rag jersey (which is now available for $39 on closeout special). I may not be good enough at bike racing stuff for cyclingnews.com to mention me in an article, but I am good looking enough to move product. I can see why they used an image of me as opposed to Brian Lopes,

Emily Batty,

or Tammy Thomas.

I'm way better looking than all three of them combined. Yes, I am cheating on the math a little bit on this one, so sue me.

And almost finally, Brent at Twin Six has been letting everybody in on my secret.

I am the Big Bad wolf.

Well at least if I do end up in hell, I'll be there with those guys. I could so party with them.

And now, your By:Stickel moment of Zen

photo cred: Brado

One more to go

I'm glad to have my once-a-decade cross country race behind me. There's just something about that middle distance thing... too long to be a short track race, not long enough to be an endurance race. Although I suck at short track racing, at least it's over in 45 minutes. I go as hard as I can, blow up, and the race is over fifteen minutes later. Cross country distances require some kind of odd discipline I am no longer connected to in any manner. Sorta like a hard local ride where all your friends leave you for dead after five minutes on the trail.

Next up and the last "race" of the "season"... Double Dare.

Hardly a race about speed. It's more about slugging all over Pisgah for as many as 24 hours over the course of a long weekend. No neutral support, no course markings, no pity for the fools, no mercy in Eric's dojo.

At least it will be partly cloudy/mostly sunny...

dunno the difference between the two, but at least it's not rain.

I do not like those freezing temps one bit. Getting back in the saddle at the mandatory Sunday start time of 6:00AM will suck a capital amount of ass. I don't like being cold in the least, which means I have to start digging out the gear I hardly ever use from whatever nook or cranny I stuck it in after I regrettably used it the last time.

There will be number plates...

Number plates holders, light (not a K-shart light), battery, transient bike computer... my cockpit looks like a Junkyard Wars robot. The aesthetics are killing me. I'm gonna have to throw a blanket over my bike until the weekend.

Somebody remind me why I call Eric a "friend." Seriously. If not for him, I'd be doing some nice 33.5 mile out and back race in North Wilkesboro on Saturday and still get a good night's sleep in a bed in a house like a modern human being instead of sleeping in the woods like a fucking rank amateur gypsy.

Allow me some time to get over these feelings of anger and violence.

Thursday will be good for me.

You?

North Carolina Single Speed Championship 2011

Even though I was running late saturday monring, I still decided to ride my bike out to the North Carolina Single Speed Championship race. I had given myself a decent buffer, so the commute was well within the limits of reason. Once I rolled into the parking lot 16+ miles later, I found Zac, Kurt, Tim, and Jon Danger Evans prepping for the day's battle royale. At about 12:20PM, Zac convinced me to ride the three+ mile green loop for a warm-up.

That put me right around 20 pre-race miles.

When we got back, we were told our 1:00PM start was backed up to 2:00PM. So much for our well timed warm-up. Instead of racing, everyone began a quest for the calories needed to sustain our bodies for a later than anticipated start.

Le mans start.

Go.

I felt like I got to my bike kinda quick, but as I turned around to head to the trail, I saw that I was quite a few places back already. Into the narrowing trail, I tried to hold Jack Crouch's wheel, the thick legged septuagenarian who invented mountain biking in Charlotte. Someone tried to take it from me, but I forced him off his line with a shithead move not knowing that the rider in question is none other than Brian Conroy (I wouldn't have done it to him).

A quick lap around the island and out to the main course. As we blasted around the White Water Center, I took advantage of the early openness of the course and my stupid 32X17 gear to get around Jack (almost eating shit in the process). Moments later, right before we went into the single track, Brian made his move and passed me.

I had no idea how many riders were ahead of me, and more to the point, how many of them were over 40 years old. Having not raced a distance similar to this in years, I had no clue how to pace myself, not that my silly gear selection gave me any choice on the super steep climbs.

Coming out of the first nine mile lap, all they could tell me was that I was in 6th overall. Judging by what I saw through the woods earlier, I was behind Tim, Zac, and Donnie, but most importantly behind Brian and Jim Shelton (fellow Masters riders).

I started to close the gap on Zac, who was running a similarly stupid gear, quite possibly based on my shitty advice. I thought I was destroying him, but as I passed by he complained that his front brake was not working. I thought "Whatever," but he showed me that the pin had fallen out of his Avid brakes. Legit... sucks for him. Maybe Brian and Jim were running Avid brakes as well. One could only hope.

I never saw anybody else within a hundred yards of my front or back wheel the rest of the day.

I finished the race in third place/Masters class, and fifth overall. The statistical geniuses amongst you may have figured out that I could just as easily been third place in the Open class. Whatever.

Brian and Jim (the two Masters in front of me) showed the youngsters how it's done, finishing one/two in the overall. Donnie Kirkwood of Sycamore Cycles rode a smart race, and while Zac and Tim were beating each other up early, he snuck up from the (relative) back to take the win in the Open Class.

Beers were drank, champions were crowned, and Zac and I's respective 3rd place efforts garnered us some matching tortoise shell Smiths which we will wear whenever we are in each other's company. Once people started heading out, I hopped on my bike for my lonely ride home.

Suffice it to say, it sucked balls.

I did the math wrong. I thought I was in for a 50 mile day.

Doh.

Good training for the Double Dare though.

If you were at the race, Weldon Weaver was out there taking your photo. Buy them, share them on facebook, tweet them...

Prepared to meet my maker, but not necessarily in a hurry

Last night I went out brocerie shopping for tomorrow's North Carolina Single Speed Championship race.

A little something something just in case I have sorrows to drown (I will). When I got home from the stores and pulled everything out of my messenger bag (called thusly as this is what it is used for most of the time), one of the cans of Old Chub was released from it's plastic sea bird noose and it fell at a rate of 9.8m/s² until it's uncontrolled descent was arrested by my second and third toes. Bleeding and swelling commenced, and swearing abounded. At least I had bought the cure to phalangeal hematomas at the ABC Store during the same errand run.

Some probably have high expectations for me at tomorrow's race.



Don't.

You will only be hugely disappointed come Monday. I'll be riding the sixteen miles to the race because, as Zac told me, "That would be baller." This will not help me do well at the race, but it seems like better prep for next week's Double Dare than an 18 mile XC race coupled with a peaceful drive on I85.

Like what you're seeing of By:Stickel so far? Steve is tossing around the idea of doing production frames with some of his signature features. Of course he's talking about it on facebook... duh. Add your two cents here if you have two cents to share. Like By:Stickle and comment away.

In other important news, The Pie got an email Wednesday from the Charlotte Humane Society that she then forwarded to me. Guido, a 2-3 year old Basenj Mix was seized by Animal Control from his owners for obvious reasons.

I asked her to please go get him. Lucky for Guido, someone at the CHS saw something special in Guido, and they pulled him from Animal Control before he would be euthanized. He's at our house until we can put some meat on them bones. He's slept in our bed since day one.

I really like him. I'm glad he is alive. I imagine he's keen on the idea as well.

Why mention this?

If you are on Facebook, please take a minute to go to this link and vote for the CHARLOTTE Humane Society. They have a chance of winning $25,000 from the Mercedes Benz Community Stars contest. That's a lot of puppy food and cat litter.

Please, please vote... do it for Guido (now affectionately known as Beastman).

Fjorked up and torqued off

So originally I said that Project BS (which will be known in the future as the Meat Stickel) would have this:

The 32 TALAS 29 120 FIT Terralogic.

But then I scratched my head. Then I scratched my ass. Then I applied calamine lotion to both my head and ass so I could think without all this scratching.

Am I making a mistake that I will regret? Is this the fjork I am looking for?

I mean, first of all, it's not white. I like white.

Secondly, this fjork has 120mm of travel. When I have that much travel, I tend to not avoid things in the trail like rocks, logs, roots, and small British children. This was a fine activity on the Superbeast, but on a hardtail I must respect the laws of rear tire management.

Thirdly, the Meat Stickel will be built to be a friendly handler with the Niner crabon frok, so running the bike at 120mm will raise the front end to the point where I would want to flip the stem.

Lastly, the TALAS adjustment makes the fjork cost more.

So this is the fjork I am looking for:

The 32 Float 29 100 FIT Terralogic

The Terralogic is the key reason I'm getting this fjork (that and it's white). It will make the transition easier from rigid frok to squishy fjork. Timing on bunnyhops and whatnot have taken a bit of getting used to when I swapped from squish to rigid. No more (or so I hope). The 100mm of travel will serve to remind me that the rear wheel will not move when slammed into large detritus objects.

Remember me mentioning that one of the aluminum bits cracked on my seatpost? Even though I was prepared to take some, if not all of the blame for the situation, my problem was solved quicker than shit:

Kent,

The threaded portion/cap of my post cracked about 2/3 of the way across while riding. It was torqued to spec, but that wrench shat the bed a few months later (after the build), so I can't be sure it was working properly at the time.... but I want to know if I can just buy/replace the broken piece?

The response?

This showed up yesterday:

That's service.

And in order to be able to put full blame on manufacturers in the future, I replaced my broken torque wrench with this:

The D-Torq Wrench DX from Topeak.

It was expensive, but it has lots of buttons and it makes noise, so I'd say "money well spent." It's like a skinny robot for my hand, though I doubt it doubles as a hammer like my last torque wrench.

*sigh*

I've still so much to dew...

I'll get to Stickel answers to Stickel questions from yesterday's post in a moment.

Right now I've got things on my mind that are more timely in nature. This weekend is the North Carolina Single Speed Championship. There was this part of me that thought perhaps after my extended Mancation I would come into this weekend rocking and rolling. Then two Sundays ago I came down with something that one might come down with. I thought I was getting much better initially, but then after three days of mountain biking, little sleep, and a night spent in the back of my car, I now feel a little done in. Coughing spells that would have normally seen me retreating to the couch have put me in a worster place. The screaming foster pup beds down in the living room (the furthest room from our boudoirs), so I ended up on a Thermarest sur le hardwood in The Pie's office.

Suffice to say, I have slept like shit for the past five or so nights.

Meh.

Plans (fantasies) to dominate have been put aside. Fun must now be had at all costs. Good thing the Double Dare is still a week away....

At least I have time to gain even more weight and become weaker through lack of movement.

Now to answer Stickel questions:

brado1 said... 'bout time brother

Yes Brado, it is about time. I couldn't find anymore limited edition El Mariachis on eBay. What else was I going to do?

bentcrank said... so, will it have sliders :-)

Yes.

Yes, it will.

This is something I had to dwell on. Some of you know how I feel about sliders. This topic will be revisited in a later post, so whatever.

AdamB said... Are you going for some shifty bits out back and/or squishy legs up front?

The frame will possibly have the accoutrements for some shifty bits in the rear, but I will only entertain the possibility of six bits in the rear if any ever come this way. As far as squishy parts, the frame will either have a 32 TALAS 29 120 FIT Terralogic or a Niner crabon frok depending on the way I feel that day or a coin toss. More on that fjork in a later post.

Emily said... So fickle, your bike love! the romance has already soured with the Canadian panda bike?

My romance has not soured for neither my Canadian panda bike nor my Canadian man lover. I love the Misfit diSSent Bröntöawesömeöus Meatplow V, and it's not going anywhere. I just have too much love to give and not enough bikes to ride.

Chris said... You still haven't called.

I know, I'm sorry. You were great, but I think we should just be friends.

Shane S. said... Yeah..I think you've got bike ADD mang! Does he do Ti or just steel?

Firstly, I don't have bike specific ADD. I have your run of the mill variety ADD that extends to every aspect of my life. I feel the same way about beer, toothpaste, cookies... you name it. To answer your other question, just steel. Sweet, beautiful, cold steel.

Speaking of which...

The Stickel porn of the day:

For tHom (he used to blog):

Project BS: Stage One

My decision to ride the seasonal Pisgah trails at midnight with the Wednesday Night Drinking Club was two fold.

I would get to go on a bike ride with some people I rarely get to ride with on trails I rarely get to ride.

I would get to sleep in the woods and wake up two miles from my 9:00AM appointment in Brevard.

What was I up to?

At 9:ooAM on Saturday morning, I pulled up in front of By:Stickel headquarters to talk about a new frame with Stephen Stickel.

Yes, I am getting a new frame, and it is going to be built by someone who is 2 hours from my house. I met Steve some years ago at ORAMM, but I've been ogling his bikes for a long time. I think the first one I saw was on a roof rack in Bent Creek over a decade ago. Anyways, whenever I got the chance to bend his ear and pester him endlessly, I did.

"Why is this like that?"

"Why is that like this?"

and so forth.

We would agree that some day I should get one of his frames, and that would be that until we would see each other again and go through a similar process the next time we saw each other.

He does some nifty things, some innovative things, and some things that have been copied by others. I brought my camera with me to his shop, but unfortunately I had let The Pie take the good camera to the pumpkin patch that day, and the back-up camera's batteries died on me before I could take a decent photo.

Stephen has big tools.

And you're thinking "Why have I not heard of By:Stickel?" Even though he's been doing this for a very, very long time, his presence on the web (in terms of an actual website) is in its infancy. Yes, he's been building frame after frame without advertising or a web presence... sacrilege.

He builds the kind of frames that if he bothered to attend a show like NAHBS, there would be tons of closeup photos splattered all over the various media sites showing all the cool little details that go into his frames. Chainstay yolks, seatstay yolks, cable guides, headtube gussets, asymmetrical rear triangle...

I'm not gonna try to explain that. I now understand it, but if you want to know more, go like his facebook page and read all about it. It gets more love than his website, and is full of By:Stickel pron.

The true purpose of the trip was for Steve to get me on one of his customer's bikes for a test ride to see how I felt about the frame geometry and whatnot.

My bike for the day:

Not what my bike will look like, but a fair representation of some of the geometry I wanted to try.

He joined me for the ride on his bike, which you might have recently seen on BikeMag.com.


In the wonderful world of Pisgah just a couple mile down the road from the shop, he took me over to ride even more seasonal wonders. Did I enjoy the ride of the bike? Let's just say that I put my deposit down when we got back, and sooner or later my frame will be sitting on Steve's manly LEGO table getting all welded up.

Since the last time I saw Steve, he has grown a beard. I am worried that perhaps he has gone from "frame builder" to "artisan", which seems to magically add months to the wait time of other builders.

We shall see.

More to come....

In the meantime, check out Stickel's Stuff on his site AND his facebook page (why is most of the good stuff on facebook?) and try to not be just a little moved on some level.

Nothing better to do...

Friday was a mandatory day off from work. I had no plan to speak of after I was through posting my blog other than building a bike. I am always a bit intimidated by three day weekends without structure, as they tend to lead to lethargy and gluttony. Before I was even done building the bike, I had more plans than I knew what to do with.

I got the call that trail work was "on" some time around noon. Being that I am way behind on my commitment to do trail work at least once a month, I was in going to be there. Before I headed out to the trail, I had even more options plopped down on my plate for the rest of the weekend.

There were no fewer than three groups assembling in Pisgah to hit the seasonal trails the day they opened (Saturday, Oct 15th). Since I already had to head in a westerly direction to attend to business regarding Project BS, it seemed to make sense to combine these two trips into one. After heavily weighing my options, I decided to join Eric "PMBAR Honcho" Wever and the Wednesday Night Drinking Club. It was a good fit, and what better way to celebrate the opening of the seasonal trails than to be descending down Bennett Gap at midnight?

Trail work, spend some time at home with the family, and back out the door towards Pisgah.

I got to the parking lot where I was to meet up with everybody else that had already started the ride a couple hours earlier. When they finally rolled in, beers were drank, lights and clothes were adjusted, and I finally got to meet Samford, the Pisgah Gnome.

The guys had went up and snagged him from the location where the folks from Bike Mag had left him. Although Bike Mag had managed to fill Samford up with beer and french fries before leaving him in the woods, Eric was not so nice. While descending in the dark, Eric managed to separate Samford from the lower portion of his uni-limb... nothing a little duct tape and a beer can couldn't fix.

Once prepared and assembled, we headed up 477. I got out in front of everyone else's lights so I could ride alone in the light of the moon. Crazy cool. Clay, Zach, and I got to the top first. Zach went left to go lay down in a field and wait for midnight. Clay convinced me to go right and up Buckwheat Knob to go out and back and kill time... a difficult task with an open beer.

Eventually, we all convened at the same spot in the woods to await midnight, open season on the seasonals. More beer was hoisted in celebration of this magical moment.

From L-R: Me, Zach, Jody, Jay, and Tomato.

We made it down Bennett in one piece, save for two mechanicals.

Jody's flat was an easy fix.

My seatpost?

Not so much.

One of the aluminum bits cracked, and I was afraid to put any weight on the post the rest of the night for fear of getting a titanium prostate exam.

The ride was not over yet. On the way back to the cars, we decided to hit North Slope (another seasonal trail). Attrition and dissension were felt amongst our ranks as we progressed, but eventually everyone got back to the cars safely.

I slept in my car since I was too lazy to put up my tent. After an uncomfortable night, I realized that I had slept in my very constrictive knee warmers and also with a Fat20 CO2 cartridge still in my jersey pocket.

Ouch.

Saturday morning I set off to attend to Project BS, which may or may not involve one of these:

all Bennett photos courtesy of Eric "PMBAR Honcho" Wever

I'm back, what's next, and Project BS

So much time spent on the Mancation in terms of riding and writing. Almost a twelve day hiatus, and life has moved on in the meantime. Since I left for Colorado, a movement has started, and the masses are protesting the amount of time I spent away from the blog and then blog-covering the Mancation. Occupy Dicky's Bike Room has finally succeeded in its lofty goal of getting me to go back to my normal modus operandi. Occupy _____ protests do work, at least in my world. I hate bongos and patchouli.

Tomorrow I'll be starting on a new project. Some know about this project already, but most are in the dark. I may be more transparent about this project than others in the past... or not. That is to be decided.

The "Season" is not over yet. Next weekend is the North Carolina Single Speed Championship. Although 18 miles is a bit of a short distance for me, I may have come home from Mancation with some lofty ideas regarding my performance. After a recovery day spent on airplanes and such I felt pretty strong, what with eight days of riding and some of those days at altitude,

but...

Last Sunday I went for a ride locally and felt respectable. Then I came home, got all achy, passed out on the couch, drooled all over myself, and woke up knowing that I had come down with the sickness. Super. Maybe I can pin all my late season hopes and aspirations on Double Dare.

Yes, the Double Dare still looms on the horizon like the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse. Two twelve hour days of racing separated by a six hour break to give you time to regret your decision to race and try to pack your things and sneak out when no one is looking. Zac and I are looking for some PMBAR redemption, and don't think we're not reading ALL THE RULES before we head out into the woods hilly-nilly. If there's some wooden nickel, ritual dance, or feat of strength involved, we will be prepared.

So tomorrow, up early to get Project BS off the ground.

It will rock.

Mancation: Days Seven and Eight

Day Seven

We left Moab with style, grace, and ludicrous speed...

and headed to Fruita, Co.

The locals were a strange lot.

photo cred: Big Ring

Fruita was all we expected it to be. A nice break from all the riding we'd been doing, except it was more riding. We were a choo-choo train of success all over the place.

photo cred: Big Ring

The riding was every bit as scenic as Moab, but with fewer big moves. Still, when the time came for the big balls to come out, Jeremy and Mark were still on top of their respective games.

photo cred: Sean

They did something in there that was nifty, I swear.

I've never ridden anything like Fruita exactly. I want to go back, and as Eddie Money so wisely put it, "and do it all over."

photo cred: Jeremy

Dehydrated and wasted from a week's efforts, we said goodbye to Sean in the parking lot as we parted ways. He won't be forgetting this trip for awhile.

photo cred: Big Ring

Day Eight

The remaining crew, Mark, Big Ring, Jeremy, and myself, headed out to Buffalo Creek to leave whatever we had left on the trail. Mark brought little to leave.

photo cred: Big Ring

Jeremy led us around a nice 26-28 mile loop over the kind of trails I'm gonna expect everywhere I go from now on.

photo cred: Jeremy

Singletrack that was built by mountain bikers for mountain biking.

photo cred: Jeremy

Mark sucked the life out of everything as he rode by. He is The Lone Rider of the Apocalypse.

photo cred: Big Ring

He was having a bad day. His rental bike was on its last leg, and Mark spent a fair amount of time on the ground wishing there was a baby around that he could punch (I'm sure he was kidding).

And so ended our perfect Mancation: AKA Tour de Goat. A big thanks to Sean, Mark, and Big Ring for the good times and a bigger thanks to Jeremy for putting this trip and all the logistical nightmares together. It was a great time, and I felt appreciably shelled by the time I got home. I expected no less. You should thank them for pulling out their cameras the whole time long after I got bored with the idea of taking photos. If not for them, you woulda saw a photo of bikes being put together in Jeremy's garage and little else.

I hoped you enjoyed Mancation as much as I did (I doubt it).

Tomorrow?

Enough with the Mancation and on to future stuff and anything that slipped through the butt crack.

For George "Baller" Wisell: