I had a plan... of sorts. Tour duh Charlotte route-finding and asplorations on Saturday. Ride out to and actually compete in the final Winter Short Track Race on Sunday. I was counting on some decent mileage and potential fitness.
Ride to the venue/start of the Tour duh Charlotte, meet up with the others, ride over to the first race stage. Hit the trail.
We find a tree had fallen right onto a trail that was recently built to reroute around... another trail that had been blocked by a downed tree. Meh. We discuss building a log-over, talk about some potential chainsaw work in the future, and decide to reroute the section with our feet rakes.
It works. We move on... find another bunch of big limbs down on another part of the trail... and put them to good use.
Caveman trail work with no tools... because... lack of bringing any. Brilliant.
My stomach feels like a clenched up ball of hate the whole time. I assume it's because I didn't eat much the day before. Terrible assumption.
I have to leave early'ish (4:00PM), so I can make the grocery-getting happen with the family. Bust ass home, toss back a quick snack, shop, come home and make an ass-ton of Brussel sprouts and eggs.
Head to the couch for a family screening of Raising Arizona. Nia's first viewing, my eleven thousandth. My clenched stomach feels burbly... I run downstairs to my prison bathroom. Hell is unleashed.
Back to the couch to the bathroom to the couch to the bathroom to the couch...
And then I feel the burble on the other end.
Projectile vomit. Made it to the toilet without a second to spare. Such a strange thing. Like watching a very fast, reverse montage of my earlier meals. The human body is an amazing/disgusting thing. Red?? Oh yeah, peppers.
The rest of my evening was spent tossing and turning on the couch, and making sure I didn't soil myself. Needless to say, I did not race short track on Sunday. I was destroyed. I did manage to get up clean my bike, but otherwise, I spent the day on the couch. I didn't need to see Running Man, Lock Up, The Long Kiss Goodnight, or Letters from Iwo Jima again... but I did.
Damn. The Boy had visited last week from Ohio, and basically suffered this same malady while he was here. I thought we were in the clear germ-wise, but woah... I was wrong. Losing a beautiful day of racing under blue skies and pleasant temps sucked, but not as bad as spending the day trying to deal with this at work would have been. I've never puked at work before. Seems like a very not fun way to spend the day.
Warning. Long post ahead. I dare you to try to read the whole thing.
So yesterday... I seem to get this sort of comment every so often (scroll down to the tiny orange octopus wearing a top hat if you've already read the comment and my response):
Anonymous Steven J said...
"So, again, you spent the entire weekend not being a part of your family? I dig reading about your adventures, but I cannot think of a more self centered person on earth. I think you live in a hilarious bubble world of Rich. There has got to be a part of you that actually wants to spend time with the people who care about you. I presume the Pie probably wouldn't mind hanging out with you sometime. Maybe show that little girl you are "helping" raise that you are a good dude too? There has to be some sort of Rich that wants to maybe go do something with his family once and a while, rather than the Rich that we all see, that spends all his time plotting his next beer, his bed bike ride, his next race, more bike parts, etc. Why didn't you go to the zoo? Sounds like a great way to spend a Sunday, especially after spending all day getting drunk with your bike friends."
To which I responded:
"Wow! A Fan!
Thanks for the kind words Steven J.
Anonymous is correct. I spend plenty of time with my family, being all husbandy and parenty.
This is a bike blog. I write about bikes. Why didn't I go to the zoo on Sunday? Sometimes our family does things together. Sometimes apart. Two full time working parents with some separate interests and occasionally competing schedules (they were supposed to go to the zoo on Friday but rescheduled because of weather). You won't see The Pie going to a bike race (or going out for a bike ride), and you won't see me running a marathon any time soon. I certainly don't bemoan her when she needs to do a four hour training run. If anything, now that she's running, she has a better understanding of what my "training" has been all about these past... I dunno how many years.
So yeah, they're at the zoo... I squeeze in a one hour bike ride, work on my bike and straighten up some things around the house on a beautiful day so I don't have to waste an after-work evening that I'd rather spend with them, and I do our taxes... something The Pie and I had agreed to do together but I decided I didn't want to waste our time together crunching digits.
The Pie and I are a team. Sometimes, I get home and there's a hot dinner waiting for me. Other days, The Pie has to work over, and I go straight to the kitchen and get on with it. And every once in awhile, we get to work together on dinner... something we both enjoy, but don't always get to do.
I'm responding to you, Steve J, because just deleting your comment would be wrong. I don't feel like I have to defend this bike blog, but I'm also not going to dismiss someone so easily.
Thanks for your concern.
Dick
And fair warning: The family will be headed out of town this spring on a family vacation. I will be riding my bike while I'm there. When I come back, I'll probably blog about riding my bike and not the family stuff... because that's family stuff. And this is a bike blog."
Maybe I'm reading my audience wrong. I guess perhaps they wanna hear about a "birthday date night" with The Pie the other night. We were planning on walking to the Pizza Peel, eating, and walking home, but then the radar showed imminent and unscheduled rain. She grabbed the keys to the car, I said, "I've got plenty of Gore Tex," she hung the keys back on the hook, we walked there in the rain, ate salad, drank beer, and walked home in the rain. During the meal, we had plenty to talk about. We always do. Be it at dinner time, on long walks in the evening (pretty much my favorite thing to do after dinner), whenever we're together...
I might be wrong, but perhaps we have something to talk about because we go out and pursue different things. She's going to an adoptive moms conference next weekend. Obviously, I'm not. As per the usual, this means Nia and I are going out for chicken wings (The Pie is a vegetarian, so she does not share our love of eating fried bird limbs). We'll probably rent/go see a movie with as much "pew-pew" as a person can stomach. If the weather is nice, there very well could be a forced march or some trail work. Who knows? As things are with The Pie, I'm pretty much happy to be around my kid... unless homework, chores, or other such non-fun parenting activities are involved. I really don't like those things, but if you want a kid who goes out into the world prepared to do adult stuff on their own, you gotta do the grunt work.
I'll admit, I probably took the comments from someone I don't know a little too personally. Hard not to. It's just that The Pie and I have been together since '92, we've been through two separations, we've worked hard to make our marriage work, we've raised a baby person into a pretty decent adult, we've got a second one who's doing quite well, and we've dealt with plenty of bumps and rough patches along the way. The Pie and I make a great team when it comes to all the things in life. We both agree that it would be very difficult to find someone who fits into our lives the way we do.
I guess I coulda just said, "Why the fuck are you reading this mindless, bike-related drivel written by a dickless, narcissistic has-been when you could be spending every waking moment with your loved ones so as to assure that you will never be harshly judged by a stranger on the internet?"
I think that's enough of that. Now stupid bike things.
Here's something dumb and bike related. The other day, I spent at least thirty minutes trying to figure out how much my new wheels/tires would weigh (at work, so as to not cut into family time). I felt like I had to know... even though the wheels will be here any day, and I'd have actual weights instead of guesses.
I'm going from 29" 24 hole NOX Farlow rims on Industry Nine Torch hubs/spokes with an Ardent 2.4/Ardent Race 2.2 tire combo to 27.5" 32 spoke NOX Kitsuma rim on Industry Nine Torch hubs/spokes with a Rekon 2.8/Ikon 2.8 tire combo.
I have all the tires in hand and one wheelset. So many other variables tho. Spoke count and length. Unknown rim weights on Industry Nine's website... and then a couple days later, I figured it out.
I don't know why I bothered, but I did.
And it ended up being right about where I thought it would. I'm only gaining about 1/4 pound over my NOX Farlow wheels while still being lighter than my old aluminum rim setup from 2014 and earlier. Such a waste of time to figure that out, but time is something I have in February.
Steve Tilford'esque segue
I ran over a squirrel on the way home from work the other day. I can't believe that's the first time it's happened. Ever since my commute started leaning more towards neighborhoods and got away from bumpy sidewalks, bike lanes on busy shit roads, and just plain ass scary roads, I've been rolling the dice with these guys. So many close calls and "oh shit" moments. I never saw this one coming. There was no left-right indecisive juking for this guy. He took the brunt of my front wheel, almost taking the bars out of my hands, and was spit out right under the back wheel.
Then he was gone. All I ever saw was the flurry of motion beneath me.
I hope he's okay... and learned a lesson. I've passed by the scene of the incident a few times, and I didn't see a body. I guess he walked it off.
I woke up Sunday morning with the blues. Not so much a hangover, just... meh.
Watts had some coffee and then set out for Ikea and towards home. Shortly thereafter, the family headed out the door bound for a day trip to the zoo. With a beautiful day ahead of me, I had planned on making the most of it, fitness-wise. Hours in the saddle... so I told myself.
But I didn't feel like driving very far. I also didn't feel like "sharing the road" to get where I needed to go to bank more chamois time. I considered for a short moment an 11 mile bike ride over to Colonel Francis Beatty Park to ride some trails I haven't been on in.. more than five years? Dunno. A couple street views on Google Maps told me that the ride over hadn't gotten much better.
So I drove there instead.
Most likely trail in Charlotte to find an abandoned gel seat cover.
It was everything I sorta remembered and then some. More "features," just as many families, and dogs, and joggers, and Freds, and strollers, and people walking the wrong way, and roots. The roots.
I'd gotten myself in some hot water many years ago when I suggested on a local forum that the trails had perhaps gotten "too rooty." I'd done a fair amount of trail work there in the past (including the original build), and it used to be one of my go-to places to ride when I lived on that side of town (and when there were fewer options). Most of the push back had a lot to do with the fact that I was riding a rigid bike out there. Whatever.
I still stand by what I said... sorta. A wiser man than me once said that if a root is doing nothing to enhance the ride in a challenging way or stave off unwanted erosion, get rid of it (speaking of local trails here). I'm all for a technical challenge, and there's some neat maneuvers that are required to navigate a few of the roots at Beatty. Others? Just an annoyance.
This is where I start to sound like a piece of shit... or maybe not. Everybody is someone's son or daughter. I'm sure this trail is something someone is proud of, and there are plenty of riders who enjoy the experience. That and the fact that this is probably a great place for beginner riders to get used to riding over obstacles small and medium (and a few biggisher).
It was a nice stroll down memory lane being out there, but all it took was two 6+ miles laps, and I was pretty beat up. It seemed like 10% bike ride and 80% MMA match.. the other 10% was a crowded mall. Yeth, I was on a rigid bike. Whatever.
Maybe it was the fact that I left my iPod at home because I knew I was going to be riding on a crowded, multi-use trail (something many others seemed to not give two shits about). Without the music in my ear, I could hear the continuous, undiagnosed clunk that I ignored the day before. Knowing that I was going to spend part of my afternoon chasing it down... and doing my taxes in front of the TV with nothing but beer to make it all better?
Maybe that's what put me in a sourpuss mood all day. Or the fact that I went from being surrounded by friends and beer and good times to being alone and not very smart when it comes to finding a good activity.
Almost as planned... which is how it's planned. To not go off as planned.
Watts arrived at my house pretty close to on time, which was the first thing that I didn't think would happen. A quick loading of the Honda Fit of Rage and we're off for a ride at the Backyard Trails, which all were invited to, but I imagine no one thought would actually happen. We left the parking lot alone, keeping an eye on the time and guessing when we actually needed to leave and what we still had left to do to not be late to our own party.
At the point where we could easily bail on more trail and not risk being late or continue on looking for more thrills, we opted for the latter. Being late to your own party has no disadvantages, at least not when it's your fappening. We got out of the woods, headed back to my place for bathing and wardrobe coordination, and went around the corner for some sit-down bar food. We made the decision to drink one beer with a meal of nachos and wings, and when pressed with the decision to have more beers, we did not. Because that was the beginning of the end last year. We did learn at least that much.
The clock continued to tic and toc, and I experienced anxious moments waiting for the check. More fun than being late would be getting there at exactly 2:01PM, the announced starting time. I pushed the pace on Watts as we crossed town, him being on a bike not quite as fast as the Fastest Bike in the World. Many nacho and chicken wing burps later, we arrived at the Fappening... at 2:00 on the nose. Dammit. Bill Nye and Rachel being the only people early to the party.
People started to arrive. Some I knew. Others I didn't. We'd fix that by the end of the evening. Beer one down at Sugar Creek, we headed to Olde Meck.... 1/32 of a mile away. The drizzle started coming down, we drank our German Hürkenflergles and sat next to the smoky fire. Beer gone, we decided to call our first audible and stop at the distillery that we could see from where we were sitting. It was half the distance back to Sugar Creek. Strange place. Had to sign in.
Drinks ordered and we assembled upstairs in the leather couches watching some strange, decades-old dragon movie.
Probably the first wave of fappers to get their drinks and head upstairs. I think we were around fifteen people at this point.
Back on our bikes for the first big haul. Maybe more than a mile to Triple C. Rocky and the Other White Rich D find us along the way. Molar fun.
More discussions and we're on audible number two. A stop at Lenny Boy. Nobody has ever been there, so we're boldly going where no man has ever gone before (after going to Sugar Creek, Olde Meck, the distillery, and Triple C). I ordered some beer that looked like mud, but surprisingly doesn't taste like mud.
From there, the plan is to go to Sycamore. Beer. Food trucks. Huge outdoor patio.
Apparently, every white person in Charlotte had the same idea. It's packed. We didn't come here for a "scene." We came to drink and move on. Audible number three is called. Skip Sycamore... and almost immediately, we decide that Unknown may offer just as many non-Fappeners, so we decided to head straight to The Spoke Easy.
More beers. Some discussion of food. Next thing you know, I'm eating a pile of it. It's good. I think it had some animal in it.
From there, things fall apart. Not as planned, but as one would've expected. Some want to go to Legion Brewing. Others, Birdsong. I elected to join the Birdsong bound crew.
Grab and go nuts, always free at Birdsong.
From there, we made the trek over to Plaza Midwood and the Cold Sprints at Snug Harbor. The place went from empty to more than bustling but not quite packed pretty quickly. Sprints began. I was glad to not be doing them...
But then I got asked to do one of the longer events so some guy has someone to race against. I don't know how far it was or how long it lasted. The light turned green, I put my head down, and didn't stop until the level of the crowd noise hit a crescendo. Apparently, I won. The other guy seemed pissed.
I'm not sure how long we stuck it out, but eventually it seemed like Watts and I had enough hours of continuous drinking to head home. Maybe we got home at 1:00AM to raid my fridge. No idea.
Another Watts Fappening in the books. Will there be another Fappening in 2017?
I guess that depends on whether or not Bill Nye and I are bored sitting around looking at each other, drinking beer, and talking about if we could or should do it again.
If you weren't there, you might have missed your last chance to ever Fappen.
We're going to postpone the start... again... because weather.
Not bad weather, like the kind that makes schools close or delay or not... according to the flip of a coin or some random toss of chicken bones. No, the weather is going to be too good. Three days of sun leading into Saturday and then highs in the mid 60° range means we'd be pissing the better part of the day away if we DIDN'T go ride mountain bikes on dry trails. Starting The Fappening at 1:01PM or 2:01PM doesn't really make much of a difference. There's still plenty of time to make bad decisions and find the Cold Sprints at Snug Harbor later.
So, 2:01PM at Sugar Creek Brewing. If anyone thinks this is a deal breaker, you can go early and start without us. Or make protest signs and stand out front until we get there. I'll be riding my mountain bike in the woods, so what you're doing from wake up until then is not really my problem.
Oh, and about me...
I have acquired most of the things necessary to begin the 27.5+ experiment. I had to find a source for my now discontinued favorite rotors, sort through my cassette spacers to find enough for another geared wheel, some tires showed up that solve my rubber issues, and a phone call confirmed that I'm eight spokes shy of a wheelset (story of my life).
Someone at Maxxis is looking out for me. The Rekon+ and Ikon+ showed up at my door this week. These tires were 50% of the reason I decided to try this new wheel size to begin with. This experiment now has zero variables to taint the results. I'll be on light, wide wheels with the exact tires I want. If I don't like it for some reason, I'll know that it's not because of something I half-assed.
The other thing screwing me up on my ride on Saturday?
I'm a moron.
When I got ready for the Icycle race, I removed the Maxxis Chronicle 3.0 front tire. It doesn't handle peanut butter mud very well, so I went back to the tried and true Maxxis Ardent 2.4... but I sorta forgot something.
When I run the Chronicle, I flop the ENve crabon frok Flip Chips from 44mm offset to 52mm to quicken up the handling with the taller tire. I kinda thought about this while I was doing the tire swap for Icycle, but I kinda didn't think enough. I left it as is... because... lazy... maybe beer.
The Icycle XC doesn't have a whole lotta twisting and turning. The muddy conditions kinda changed things too. It probably did raise its ugly head during the downhill race, but I never did a full speed run until my timed run. Which was TRBL.
The OG crabon frok was a Niner (470mm w/45 offset), so anyways....
Time to flip that chip again. Bring things back to copesthetic A.O.K.
I've never figured out a good way to remove the ships from the frok until this weekend. They're in there pretty tight, and there's not much purchase to bang, pinch or grab them. So here's a tip, just in case you're dumb enough to mess with a good thing.
Shove a fat rag into the chip from the inner-facing side of the ship. It doesn't have to be a dirty rag, but it can be if you like dirty.
Yank.
Yeah, it was that easy. Wish I woulda figured that out a few Flip Chip flops ago.
And now, with things back to the way they were meant to be and a desire
to get my trail time back to normal, this weekend is the WATTS FAPPENING II: C'mon Get Fappy.
It starts too early (mebbe) to get a decent ride in that morning before it starts (without risking being late to our own party again), and I doubt I'll be up for riding (or living) the next day. Perhaps we back up that start time... again.
I'd be willing to bet (just $1 tho) I'll even have all the necessary parts to begin my 27.5+ experiment this weekend. Not based on any recent updates. Just the fact that I'd have a bunch of long-awaited parts at a time when I have absolutely no time to play on them.
With the forecast for temperatures hovering around freezing on Saturday, I was hunkered down on the couch the night before thinking I'd be just settling for some sad greenway crushing the next day...
Until I got a text from my neighbor, Adam.
He wanted to go for a real trail ride. Hmmm. Someone to share the sadness of cold fingers with. Nice. He's semi-new in town, and hasn't seen some of the lesser-visited trails locally. We "settled" on Anne Springs Close Greenway, which is a trail, and not a greenway... but whatever. I hadn't been there since probably the 2014 Tarheel Trailblazer End of Year Party. I think.
A hectic morning of adulting and I cross the street to Adam's house with my bike at dead on noon. His car is out front. He's behind some bushes mumbling to his phone. I go to inspect this situation. His crank is removed, he's wearing one blue nitrile glove, and he's asking if the person on the other end of the conversation has a bottom bracket.
Maybe I won't have to ride after all.
He strikes out on the phone. No luck. I stick my finger in his bottom bracket and give it a twirl. It's ugly, but it spins. I tell him that if it got him through his last ride, it will get him through another. He goes ahead and starts reassembling his bike while I head over to my next door neighbor's house. He has a limb that's threatening the very existence of our cable line when the tree ices over (like might happen Monday), so I ask him if we can cut it down. Back to Adam's to borrow his extendable limb saw, almost drop the largest portion on The Pie's car, almost take out the cable ourselves cutting off the second portion, and then finally remove the last hunk of unwanted tree.
Adam has his bike back together now, and my other neighbor and I did more good than damage in the same amount of time.
Oh, about the ride. Two things.
This is more a testament to how quick Adam is on the shutter than it is my still struggling wheelie skills.
Anne Springs is in incredible shape. Charlotte mountains bikers have had a lot to bitch about over the years down there (it's technically in SC). Reduced trail mileage, higher fees, zero trail maintenance... the usual. That's all kinda changed. I'm now used to paying $3-5 dollars at a few other trails in and around Charlotte, so $5 just doesn't matter that much anymore. There were more improvements to the trail than I could count. The handlebar width suspension bridge was widened. Wet spots had been re-routed much for the better. Riding all the trails in a creative loop so as to cover all the ground in both directions netted us twenty miles. It still remains one of the (dare I say this?) prettiest places to ride a bike in the area. It took Adam "ooohing" and "ahhhing" to remind me to take a look around at my surroundings and stop being a jaded asshole.
This astounded me. Who goes out for a long ride/run (one long enough to need to eat) but doesn't have enough room to carry their Nature Valley bar? Or is this a "trail gift," and if so, who trusts (non-beer) trail gifts?
The other thing.
I need to get out on my mountain bike more often. My bike handling is off just a bit. Not that I'm the best bike handler in the world to begin with. It's just that things felt goofy. Poor judgment going through a rock pile early on in the ride sent me to the ground. Later on, as I was internally dealing with my faded cornering skills, I clipped a pedal on a root trying to get on it out of a turn and went sailing.
That's the divot my knee made in the very forgiving earth.
Too many chut around town rides lately. Not enough time on real trails. I've lost some of the feel for the bike. Meh.
Not much to say going into this weekend. As much as I want excite, gonna be cold. Like... "meh "cold.
Not too cold to ride, but definitely cold enough to put a damper on things. That temperature I never got around to getting good gloves for riding more than an hour or so in. Last week was such a good jump start on the whole fitness thing with 70+ miles of mixed-use riding. Hate to follow it up with... nothing.
The Pie's trainer sits there in her office.
No.
Not that desperate yet.
Waiting on packages. Three? Four? Just stuff. Woulda been a good weekend to fondle things and daydream.
Helping with the Tour de Charlotte lately and having my mind run wild with anticipation. The Faster Mustache crew has had three years in a row of making this event a can't-miss. New stuff every time. The bar is raised every time. What other event does that? Don't tax your brain. The answer is "none."
I've been reminded that some people like to "eat" before they spend the rest of the day deleting their memories. I am a fair and just "event promoter," and I understand people have "needs." I also understand that when you're going to spend the day drinking beer, it doesn't really matter if you start at noon or 1:00. It's still a dumb way to spend the day.
I took the time to update the FacePage with an agenda of sort for those that are looking to hookup with us en route. Figure on us moving from brewery to brewery at a rate of one per 35-45 minutes. Once again, when Watts finishes his beer and puts on his helmet, we'll be rolling shortly after.
This is what he looks like without a helmet:
This is what he looks like with a helmet:
If you can pick up on the subtle difference, you should be able to follow along. If not, you know where we're going next and it's probably less than five minutes from where we just were.
Ken Klatte, AKA Kenpuke on MTBR, AKA The Ghost of Jerry Reed, AKA Bloggy, AKA the Hawley Blog passed away.
An intelligent, young, talented, young, creative, young genius who meant so much to so many. I'd only met and chatted with him IRL a few times. I read the Hawley blog religiously. His wordsmithery eclipsed all others. He could say more with a hundred words and a little photoshop than anybody else could with a million words... and ten of his words would have been "Huzzah."
He was just too young to leave so soon. There's a hole in the world today.
I mentioned this on FaceBook yesterday, but just wanted to share an opportunity for my fellow "athletes" to represent a product that I truly believe has changed things for me (and The (running) Pie) for the better. Elevated Legs has decided to take on some brand ambassadors.
I've talked about Elevated Legs before, but why not repeat myself?. As I get older (and older and older and older), recovery is getting more and more difficult to come by. Partly because I'm lazy. Partly because I have a lot of bad habits.
Mostly those things.
I take one (or two?) supplements during the actual "season," but nothing seems to reduce the wear and tear on my legs like some squeezy leg bagging. The fact that I can passively sit there and reap the benefits is a huge plus for me. I don't want to lay with my legs up against the wall, buy seven bags of ice and sit in a giant human slushy for a half hour, or pay for an almost daily massage (although the benefits of massage are incredible... but require getting up and doing it).
All the details are provided over there, but before you count yourself out because you haven't seen a podium in awhile (or ever)...
"How fast or strong you are will come second to how awesome you are. We want fun, positive and engaged athletes that we think could really use our help and who we think truly want to represent our brand."
I should mention that if you're an endurance racer in the single speed class at any event I might attend, these are probably not for you. For my own reasons. Because I need to preserve what little remaining (and dwindling) edge I have left.
Otherwise, if you're a personable, social media savvy, outgoing athlete in ANY sport where recovery is key (disc golfers and bowlers need not apply), get in on this. Now.
My plan Saturday was to ride some of the Tour duh Charlotte course to scope out some construction that was going on a couple months ago that could affect our route and to look at the race stage I'm running to see how exactly to manage it. Kangalangamangus was going to go to the mountains with Dave, but there was a ton of rain out that way. I bumped into him in the lobby of the big building we both work in, and he was looking for something else to do.
I invited him on my "ride."
"How far will it be?"
"Dunno."
"How long will we be out?"
"Dunno."
"Okay."
And so it was. Kangalangamangus, and Dave met up with fellow Faster Mustachios Nick "Dip 'N Spray and BC at Zac's house (who wasn't there because he's on a Amateur Homeless Personning trip in the Dominican Republic). All of us on single speed mountain bikes. All going out for a ride across the urban sprawl and through scabby patches of woods. Eventually, we met up with Tod, who sullied our group's "hardmen cred" with his gears. Whatever.
We rode, stopped, explored, looked at the map, looked at the map again, rode through parking lots and apartment complexes, neighborhoods and "hoods"... standard Tour duh Charlotte terrain. Sometimes, we were actually riding our mountain bikes as they were intended to be ridden. Dirt, rocks, and such.
On our return trip back towards the big buildings, we had to split up and go our separate ways. Nick and Tod, towards their respective homes. Kangalangamangus and Dave, in the direction of coffee and frou-frou pastries. I twisted BC's arm and talked him into stopping at the brewery that gives out a free 12oz beer to Bicycle Benefits sticker holders.
Over beers, BC and I talked about how by then end of the day, most of us had ridden between 45-50 miles... on stupid single speed mountain bikes... on a bullshit, no goals, no real agenda ride.
I realized that if someone asked me to go on a fifty mile road ride on a proper road ride, I'd be calling in sick. The concept of such an activity sounds only slightly better than sitting on a trainer or staring at the sun.
But fifty miles of whatever it was we did on my favorite bike ever?
I feel like it's the kinda riding I could do all day, because it didn't feel like riding at all. I know fifty miles is nothing to brag about, but when you spend that much time in the saddle under clear, blue skies with friends and nobody cares where they're going or what they're doing? Best ride in well over a month.
When I woke up on Sunday and started walking around the house tho... Mang, I am outta shape. Not beat down but definitely feeling it. Which, I guess, is a good thing.
Basically the same as before, but different. We'll start at the Sugar Creek Brewery around 1:00PM'ish and work our way north, going from brewery to brewery until we end up at The Spoke Easy or their event The Cold Sprints at Snug Harbor (depending on how long it takes for us to ride less than ten miles and drink eight or so pints).
"A Mountain Bike Stage Race and Urban Trail Adventure around Charlotte, NC.
Join us March 19th for a day on the bike you will never forget. We will ride as a group on a 30-ish-mile "Party Pace" route around Charlotte. The route will feature urban paths, dirt roads, and even single-track trail. We'll stop along the way at 4 locations, called "Stages" where we will have a mini race. Some races will be Cyclocross style, some Cross-Country MTB, and maybe even a Fat-Tire Road Criterium. The Tour de Charlotte will be a showcase of in-town Charlotte trails, paths, and commuter routes.
I think this is the fourth year that Faster Mustache will be putting on the event. Beer, food, way too many prizes for an event that only costs $35. This is a can't-miss event. CAN'T. MISS.
One last thing.
If you want to look like your favorite local racer boys, the 2016 Faster Mustache kits are on sale now and for the next week.
Charlotte and Atlanta kits are available, and I highly encourage you to buy a sleeveless Charlotte jersey...
for my own selfish reasons. Gotta hit the minimums to get the order filled, or else I'm gonna have to spend two hours with some scissors, a needle, and some thread bringing justice to a short sleeve fashion travesty.
I know what I like, and I like what I know. I'm not sure when it will end or where, but my quest to have the perfect single speed (for me) goes on. Dabbling in gears and full suspension has proven much disappoint over the past decade and then some. That won't stop me from fiddling with near perfection tho.
This is a start. I feel like there might be some merit to the 27.5+ thing as it applies to rigid single speeding. Yeth, much has been said about how great it is for trail bikes. Some hearsay from someone who talked to someone who knows someone said that in a head to head test with the other options )by a major player in the industry), the plus tweener size was the fastest overall. In some ways that makes sense, I guess. Dunno.
What I do know:
The outer wheel diameter of 27.5+ is very close to that of a 29er, so I'm not losing much on the approach angle side of the equation.
The weights of the tires that I plan to run are sorta similar to what I'm already sporting 95% of the time (Ardent 2.4 front/Ardent Race 2.2 rear)... not to mention, I'm moving more of that weight closer to the center of the wheel (insert rotational mass argument here).
As of right now, I think I'm going to run the 2.8 Ikon in the rear, but I might just stick with the 2.35 that I'll be getting next week. It will be on a rim with a 36mm inner width, so there's gonna be tons of volume there.
I was able to drop 2PSI when I went from a 23.4mm Industry Nine Trail rim to a 29mm NOX Farlow rim. I'm hoping to maybe get my rear pressure down to >20PSI with a 2.35 Ikon on the Kistuma rim.
I know some might think it's a terrible idea to jump right in with NOX carbon rims on Industry Nine wheels for an "experiment," but I know that if I get some shitty/heavy/cheaper wheels, it will taint the whole thing. I'm pretty used to what I've got, and the few times I've hopped on demo/borrowed bike, I am disappoint with the wheels. I'm ordering these wheels with a geared freehub, so if I don't like them, they won't be as hard to sell. Before that tho, I'd be trying them on the Stickel/120mm fjork. It's hard to squeeze a 2.35 in the rear (not impossibru) with a 32X20, and I think it might really be a rally machine with the bigger tires... which is all I ask of the Stickel.
Besides all that, I saved a ton of money not buying and hating a full suspension bike late last year. So, win.
What am I hoping to gain?
Increased traction, lower pressures, less beat-down, more gnar-capable... generally speaking, a better ride quality.
"Didn't you try 650b already?"
I tried 650b, yeth.
I ran it at the Wilkes 100k back in 2013. The front tire was only a 2.25 on a I9 Trail rim, and I was used to riding a 2.4 on a much wider I9 Enduro™ rim. Higher pressure, lower volume, reduced wheel diameter, add to that the smaller rear wheel/tire combo than I was used to, and I received quite a painful experience. Not too mention, that course is not "right up my alley." Tons of fun, but full gas and all the horsepower. I don't think I've ever finished without my back being slightly tweaked.
This is nothing like that... I hope.
Oh yeah, what about 29+?
I feel like that was the Papa Bear in this fairy tale. Just a little too much for me. Dunno if it's my limited power trying to twirl a giant doughnut in circles or what, but I only found it good for shits and giggles. I was only mildly tempted to try it in a race, but almost certain it would never be faster for me overall.
So there's that.
And yeth, I've already figured out that the Vertigo can handle the extra meat.
No worries there. Pretty sure I won't be running anything as fat as a 3.0 on a 45mm rim.
I hope to have this all sorted out pretty soon and get the new setup in some gnar before May when the technical racing starts with Pisgah Productions events and Trans-Sylvania Epic.
I had a rough idea how to get to my actual night downhill run and survive it, mostly based on all the mistakes I've made in the past and how exactly to avoid them.
I decided to keep myself as busy as possible to stay away from any beer that might cloud my decision making process. I looked for a bike wash but came up empty. I took a shower, even tho I knew I was just gonna get back on my bike. I ate a box of mac and cheese, because eating is something smart people do.
I got dressed for my practice runs and headed out the door to get on the shuttle.
photo cred: Nik Fedele
I've failed miserably at this before. Too excited about packing in as many runs in as possible. Logic made fuzzy with too many beverages after the XC race. Too much shared stoke from the giddy as school children shuttle monkeys packed into the back of a UHaul truck.
I wanted two runs in the daylight... at a very slow pace... so I could actually see the lines. What few sections of rough terrain that might occur from top to bottom might feel like nothing on a full suspension bike, but they can absolutely knock you off into the woods if you let them surprise you in the dark with a rigid fork. I would know. I checked my lines, took it easy, and felt like for the first time in I don't know how many years, I might actually have an idea of where I want to be on the trail to not end up in the shit.
One night practice run to check my lights. Seemed smart enough... just to make sure my lines are totally dialed. Nick told me that Chris Joice had bumped his gearing to something taller after the XC race. Doh. I never considered the amount of pedaling I might have to do, being that on all my earlier runs, I was only focused on the good lines. I got through my one practice run with my lights dialed and waited for the race to start.
Waited around for the shuttle, loaded up with the other three guys in the Hard Ass (full rigid) category, and headed up to the top. I talked to Chris and confirmed that he had decided to go with a 32X16. I'm still rolling a 32X20. This might suck a bit.
I rolled out from my start, and as soon as I hit the first section with any amount of roots and rocks, I was not where I planned to be. All the jostling wiggled my bar-mounted light enough for it to slip off the bulge, come slightly loose, and point at a spot about five feet in front of me. I still had 700 lumens on my head, so all was not entirely lost, but the lack of 1500 going out in front of me was noticeable.
I bobbled a few more times, and on the flatter more pedally sections, my stupid 32X20 is duly noted. I came around the second to the last corner where I wanted to, people screaming at me, bottle rocket going off somewhere nearby, came unclipped from my right pedal, and found out just how hard it is to sprint over thirty yards of grassy field in a climb-friendly gear.
I didn't wait around for the other guys. I had an agenda. I went straight back to the cabin, changed to spectator clothes, grabbed a bunch of beer, and went back down to join the screaming idiots in the woods... and be one of them.
When the podium finally took place, I found out I was second... to Chris "I'm way smarter and have a better beard than you could ever dream of" Joice.
When there are only five guys entered in the Hard Ass Class, and one of them gets injured during his practice runs, getting on the podium becomes a matter of being one of the three riders who screw up the least.
As stoked as I was to get second, I was mostly pleased that I finally made a successful run at getting through the Icycle weekend without a DNFs, injury, bad decisions, getting lost or any other manner of self-inflicted mayhem. Regardless of where I placed in either race, I felt like I was a winner.
I want to say this. For a guy who used to focus on 12/24 hour racing at a time when 15 watts of light was considered pretty solid, I'm terrible at night riding now. I'm not sure if it's that my eyes are almost a decade and a half older, or if it's the fact that I probably only ride mountain bikes after dark fewer than five times a year. On top of that, downhill "racing" is sorta stressful. Knowing that it takes just minutes of solid concentration, every single move you make counts. The race will come down to seconds, so every bobble and blown corner not only affects your time, it's also detrimental to your mental focus... if you let it get to you. Which I do.
What can I say? Something else to put on the list of "things I don't do so well at."
Right under grammar and decision making and friend picking.
Maybe I mentioned it. Maybe I didn't. I headed to the Icycle XC and Night DH with only three goals:
* Finish both events
* Come home uninjured
* Stay alive
So the plan to get off on the right foot meant leaving town at 3:00PM. I knew that if I had to drive out of Charlotte in rush hour traffic, I would want a beer (or three) if I had to navigate my way through a sea of humanity. I managed to convince Nick "Dip 'N Spray" Barlow to meet me at my vehicle at the predetermined point of our exodus in a timely manner, and our journey was mostly unfettered by unpleasant people-on-people interactions.
I wanted to go straight to the cabin, cook up some Ramen noodles, and inflate my air mattress... prepare for a semi-early bedtime (early for Friday night at a typical Icycle). On our way into Fontana Village around 7:15PM, we were passing the registration, and Nick suggested we stop and get it over with. I agreed to his brilliance.
Normally, registration is manned by one or two lonesome individuals. Not tonight. It looked liked a neighborhood bar. We walked in, I heard "these two guys," much laughter, and two beers were placed on the counter in front of us. We registered, talked to the happy shining faces, drank our beer, and another one was quickly presented to us.
"Are we doing this?" I asked Nick.
"Might as well."
And so it began.
Beer, beer, and more beer. And when it looked as if the beer were gone, more beer appeared. Shenanigans ensued.
Eventually registration closed... at 10:00? People hung around for a bit longer, and then we went up to the cabin where everyone else on the team had already arrived hours ago. Doh. More bad decisions and we're up until 1:00AM or so... without remembering the whole "eating and making good decisions" thing.
Get up the next day starved, eat Pop Tarts, drink coffee, wait a couple hours, eat last night's forgotten supper, start getting ready for the three lap/21 mile Expert/SS XC race. I don't usually put much thought into riding that far locally. Couple bottles, maybe one of them filled with Carbo Rocket Half Evil. Not much else. Had I known there was almost 4,000 feet of climbing... maybe I woulda brought some food. Probably not tho.
Waiting for the 1:00 start that was delayed for technical reasons, I found myself still hungry. Shit. Back to the cabin for my can of Pringles and then lie down in the sun to stay warmish. Line up for the LeMans start, watch Nick struggle to get out of his skinny jeans without taking off his shoes, take advantage of the situation and tackle him to the ground. With less than forty five seconds before the start, I now feel bad for Nick, so I help him as best I could to remove his pants. With about ten seconds to spare, we're both on our feet and ready.
Eric "PMBAR Honcho" Wever says "GO!" I get about ten strides into my run when I feel something grab my shoulder and throw me into a spin. Nick has justly payed me back for the late tackle, and when I finally ended up facing the right direction, I was at the very back of the pack. Getting to my bike was a chaotic affair, as my bike was towards the back, an I had to navigate my way through the stampede of riders coming right back at me. On the bike, I put in some kind of effort to move up a few positions before getting to the first trail.
The whole racing thing... ouch. It felt like we were climbing 90% of the time. The conditions were everything from peanut butter, fudge, Crisco, pie crust, cookie dough, frosting....
I might have been relating all the varying dirt samples to food because by the third lap (1.5 hours in), I was incredibly hungry. I woulda ate anything I found on the ground, but there wasn't a dropped gel to be found. I had no idea where I was sitting in the SS class, but I saw Chris Joice coming back up on me. Damn. Thought I had put him away earlier. I decided to just dig deep, keep looking over my shoulder for the catch, and hope I didn't fall apart. Luckily, none of those things happened.
I finished. Went straight to my Pringles. Was handed a beer, but felt severely "meh" about it. Ate more Pringles. I finally headed over to see how I did and retrieve my puffy coat from the finish line.
Third place in the SS class, top ten overall or something. Strange. I didn't think that could be possible, but things happen. People quit. I dunno. Wait for the podium, get called down, hear Eric say, "Wait, there's been a protest."
I know it's gotta be me getting bumped off the podium. It is.
Timmy took the win and some guys that I don't know bested me. This makes sense, and being that my only goal was to actually finish, I don't mind so much.
Time to follow through with the second part of the plan to finish the day with a successful run at the night downhill race.
Posts
