Barnburner 50k '25: The Homma Tawk Steak Year

Dr Mike probably had a brilliant idea when he decided we should stay in a hotel closer to the start than our houses in Charlotte to avoid a 4:30am alarm.

Probably.

Mebbe a hotel that's across from a brewery and there's a hotel bar on the first floor and your room happens to be on the first floor also isn't the best choice for those that might be apt to YOLO themselves. 

So it all started off well enough around 9:03pm when we got back from the brewery, but then a few hotel drinks an Dr Mike was pretty sure he was witnessing an ICE'ing in the parking lot close to midnight, misplaced his phone, woke Türd and I up, the hunt was on...

and Türd saved the day.

The 6:00am alarm is a rude wake up call in the most literal sense.  We roll out of the parking lot a little later than anticipated, thus I'm already 90% geared up on the drive over, and I head out to the pavement to warm up to the thought of using a 32X16 for at least a couple few hours.

I miss my chance to line up proper a couple rows back where I feel like I belong, so I do the jerk move kinda lining up alongside the actual corral as I'm anticipating I'm not going to be able to go too slow up the initial climb on my dumb gear.

All race images: Icon Media Asheville

We start and hit the climb and there's not too many people ahead... I assume some fast single speeders are up there, and a yute on a Spot Rocker comes cranking by me so mebbe today is not my day.  I'm still feeling outta sorts from last night's shenanigans, and at mile ten or so, Türd makes his way around me on his Vassago Radimus.

"I'M BEATING DICKLES!"

Dammit.

I start to feel normal thirteen miles in, but my back is having all the feels of pushing a tall (for me) gear in cold'ish weather.  I further settle into my dark place when Bruce (who bested me two weeks ago at the K&Q of the Watershed) passes and immediately leaves me for dead, although I'm sure he thought "bless his little heart" when he went by.  I can feel my previous best of three fourth places in a row at Barnburner slipping from my weak grasp.

I hit the long paved bit that connects to two trail segments, and I can see Türd's neon beer light of a jersey up ahead.  Time trial mode up the climb, and close down the gap when he gets caught up behind a couple slower geared riders on the Wolf Pit Trail.  Staying on top of my stupid gear on the pitchy bits meant I needed to get around, so pass Türd and the others... with Türd making the pass on them as well.

We cross the road to the final bit of trail, which although I've ridden it multiple times now, I'm still fuzzy on the exact deets.

Türd closes the gap on the first descent, he being a better descender and on a much more aggressive bike than my turgid and now dated 2017 Vertigo Meatplow V.7.  I pull off and let him around.  

"Are we mebbe on the podium?"

I assure Türd that we most definitely can not be.  I know at least two (Bruce and the yute) are ahead, and there has to be more than one single speeder who had a better start than me.

The trail pitches back up, and I now start to member that although this trail starts higher than the finish, it sill offers up many kick-in-the-dick climbs.  I make my way back around Türd and go all in to the end.

"Hey, Dicky.  You got third single speed."

Well, shit in my hat.

I don't know if I'm more bummed that I let a defeatist attitude crawl into my brain so early, or that my fourth place "winning" streak is over, or that Türd was soooooo close to a podium too that I'm sure he could taste it.

Climb on to the boxes once again with Bruce above me, making him still the fastest, oldest single speeder for the second time in two weeks, and also the yute who is only 22 years old... meaning I'd already been racing mountain bikes for eleven years before he was born and I was also 22 years old then... ?

Still couldn't get the crowd to chant "WE HATE BRUCE."  I'll keep trying.

Shit birds.

Once again, stoked that I can make my 56 year old body race at an average heart rate of 174 (with a max of 188bpm) for over two hours, which is 100% better than being ded.  I don't do any other event all year long that let's me stress test this meatbag any better, so... I'll probably be back next year.

But I'll be in bed (and stay there) by 10:00pm next time.

Don't be surprised if I don't post up for a week.  I might.  Mebbe not tho.

Bonus Dr Mike photo for proof of life.

'25 Horny Cat 69 AKA Putting on the Ritz

Everything went as planned.

That is to say, I planned for everything to not go as planned in such a manner that I could be able to pivot all day long and mebbe it all works, out and it essentially did.

At the last minute, I decided to leave work two hours early on Friday to get a head start on getting the house ready for stinky people.  Josh the Wonderboy came into town that evening and aided in all manner of minor ways, and some really important ways. 

Dr Mike showed up with extra coolers when I realized I'd grossly underestimated the quantity and variety of liquid beverages I'd be dealing with to keep the masses quenched and to numb their pains.  Lastly, Nathan showed up so he could see Hot Tub Time Machine for the third time and also the hundredth time for me. 

Saturday morning, the house was as much chaos as I'd anticipated a month ago... and then some.  Frands sleeping van life style outside (not so much chaos, but I worry about my kids everywhere).  Two dogs (one diabetic, one idiot) and a wife who planned on being out of town Friday but then couldn't and all the associated barking at everything and everyone and being underfoot (dogs not wife).  Watts shows up... the route still not loaded on his computer but at least already fed.

Me... totally unprepared for the ride that I'd announced I'd do in the last minute pre-race email... calling out the "leaving in X minutes announcement" every four minutes... Josh being even less so ready than I.

From the email:

"I'll be joining in on the first 15-17 miles of the course at a semi-ho-hum-diddly-dum pace.  Take that for what it's worth.  I need to get back the house and polish the silverware."

I wanted to get some riding in, and I told everyone at the pre-race speech I'd be out there, but I definitely wasn't waiting on anyone because... "reasons."

I'm very proud of everyone for not running during the LeMans start.  No sense in turning an ankle just to get somewhere in a hurry.

Despite announcing that I would wait for NO ONE on the trail, I ended up on the most diverse group ride I'd ever been on.  The Backyard is such a choice place for group rides, what with all its intersections, bonus loops, and social cut-throughs.  Josh the Wonderboy, fresh off a Coors fever dream, on a full suspension bike with no bike computer and a dead phone and no idea where he was all day.  Carl on an e-bike.  Kangalangamangus on his pre-boost rigid Waltworks and a stubborn Garmin.  Two guys on Surly hardtails laden down with bike luggage.  Two yutes from Durham, one on a DJ bike and on a fixed brakeless 26" bike.  Davis, on the fixed gear, was a late entry who I woulda swore was just pranking me when I got his email (abbreviated for brevity's sake).

"i am interested in making a late entry bribe to the tune of 3x the suggested donation... 39 smackeroossss... i will plan to ride a loaner fixed-gear monocog 26er, if i can get in."

So the ride through the Middle Third at the start (which isn't a third of anything) stopped at pretty much all fifty six intersections to regroup... mostly because I had allotted three hours to get through the first fifteen miles, so it was going "well enough"... not anticipating the slow down caused by the passed out homeless guy at the water fountain later tho.

All that said, I will never forget that ride.  Ever.  And I've forgotten so many rides.

Oh... and I got a call from Papa John's while I was riding which I was pretty sure was going to be a cancelation of my order but was just a notification that they were out or salami for the MEATS pizza followed by another call to ask me is I wanted to substitute for the lack of preferred meat (I had no preference as I pretty much closed my eyes when I picked out fourteen pizzas which is a more exhaustive process than I'd anticipated).  Oh and the multiple alerts from my home security cameras which I was sure meant many people had quit and went back to my house early to be disappoint which just turned out to be squirrels and also Nathan who was pacing outside my house waiting to get back in.

Coolers were filled by 12:30pm as promised.  Pizza arrived at 12:45pm as promised.  Southern Ditch Living Jim showed up with two cases of High Life as not promised, and the wait began.  While we ate hot & fresh pizza and expected quitters and also people who curated their own shorter routes from the one I created, we were disappoint.  One o'clock became two o'clock whilst we googled and debated if it was safe to put carboard pizza boxes in the oven.

I think it was 2:20pm before we had our first finished-but-not-finishers and the party began.

I don't know what time we finally got three finishers who had finished all there was too finish, but here they are.

The rest of the night was a mix of worrying about people that hadn't made it back to the house yet, people coming back in ones, pairs, and small groups, fourteen pizzas gone, two more ordered, more people, darkness, the two from Durham coming in... somehow?    

Two more pizzas ordered... until I think it was just Watts, Josh the Wonderboy, Brett, and I in the backyard.  Then a trip over to Lucky Lou's where Josh and I liberated someone's half-eaten abandoned food only to have the owner return much later wondering where his food went when it's obviously in our hands and mouths but him being nice enough to accept my $20 bribe to not report us to the staff. 

Walk (stumble) home and in bed by 1:30am.

I'd like to thank everyone.

* The people who donated money despite no intention of showing up.

* The people who paid up, couldn't make it, but didn't ask for a refund.

* The people who signed up late and paid extra bribe money.

* The people who donated more than $13, and in some cases, way more than $13 to play.

* The people who paid up, mebbe didn't get what they came for, but didn't complain anyways... at least not to me anyways.

* The people who dealt with a glitchy route or device.  I can't explain it.  I was next to someone with the same data acquisition device, and his said we shoulda been on the other side of the creek (where no trail, road, or greenway existed) whilst mine was dead-to-nuts-on.  I've done enough Mountain Cats (and other events) that I know it happens... but it still sucks when it happens to you.

* Jay and Jim and whoever else that brought enough extra beer to really halp save some money to go to the Tarheel Trailblazers.

* HandUp for giving me enough swag that I think if you went home empty handed, you chose to... or left it in my yard in a stupor.

* Lee for taking a bunch of awesome photos.  He tried to goad me into riding the log skinny, but I rode it four times after we built it and never again under the assumption that if I ride it a thousand times, I might fall off it once.  I'd love to have the photo for vanity's sake, but ever since my ER incident two years ago, I realize I've taken on a fair amount of responsibility tryna put on a one man show, and a single stupid mistake can make for a whole lotta PITA for everyone. ASK ME HOW I KNOW.

I was still dumb enough to jump off the cannons tho... so I'm not always SMRT and I love to go "WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE."  I did ask myself midflight, "am I making good decisions?"

The answer is no.

* Anyone and everyone that made an effort to keep my yard from looking like complete shit Sunday morning.  I only found a few mislaid cans, one pizza crust, and one piece of leftover pizza (out of the 144 slices I ordered).  Y'all weren't the worst people to come to a party where I live.  I did end up with a couple items that very much ain't mine, so holler at me.

Hopefully all were pleased or at least most of all.  After so much hand-wringing and worrying later, I don't think I'll forget about it soon enough to do it again next year.  2027?  I'll be old... mebbe too old to do this again... and our nine floor office (my day jerhb) is going to be moving, and I have no idea how much of a role I'm going to be playing in the painful logistics, but I'm anticipating my anxiety-riddled brain to be at least slightly taxed.

After yinz finished off 18 pizzas (almost), two Fantas (disappoint), and countless beers, bubble waters, and Cokes, the leftover donations added up to @$395 (yeth, I rounded up some cents).  Your fundage is going into the Tarheel Trailblazers Backyard Trails: Equipment Fundraiser so we can buy a machine to move dirt around and make cool shit.

Now... the Barnburner 50k... selfishly... FOR ME.

'25 King and Queen of the Watershed

Wow, my fifth run at the King and Queen of the Watershed.  The last six years have flown by.  Its one more of those events that I just don't know if I'll ever tire of it.  It's a unique format, five full-gas stages over twenty five miles, an excuse to see my frand Watts, and an excellent post-race hang with super awesome food stuffs and beer. 

Oh, and that we turn it all into a fifty five mile all day affair is all the buenos.

I can't say the wisest decisions were made Friday night, but I don't think Watts and I have had the pleasure of each other's company since... early June?  There was a fair amount of catching up to do after he closed up the shop, so that allotted enough time for Watts to transition from beer to bourbon... and then beer.  

Wake up at 8:00am, force some processed food squares into my maw, and head out the door for the thirteen miles of spinning 32X18 to the first trail head.

Checking in at the start and whadda I see?

99% sure that is my OG custom Dean titanium Meatplow that this blerhg started with, the last mountain bike frame I'd ever buy...

The new owner had no idea that I was the first person to ride that bike or any of its storied history.  Originally purchased in early 2004 (or '05?), I rode it at my first stage race, the '04 La Ruta de los Conquistadores (or was that the Spicer prolly?).  I know it went up to the '05 Trans Rockies... 

and '06 Trans Rockies...

and also did the first year of the NUE Series and got third SS (don't tell Ryan O'dell the year was 2006).

I won the first Cohutta 100 on it in '06, and took the fixed gear win at the Shenandoah Mountain 100 (yeth, we had enough people that stupid to have a category back then).  Oh, and I won my 24 Hour Solo Single Speed World Championship on it as well.

Club fit "World Champ" jersey for a guy with club fit fitness.

If 29ers had never been invented, I might still be riding it.  The writing was on the wall back in '06 tho, as I watched my fellow but more forwarded thinking single speeders rolling over the chunk with aplomb.  The Meatplow V.1 was sold to Tommawicki, who then sold it to Moni (pretty sure those wheels were Bill Fehr's R.I.P.).

So... that was strange and neat.

After a gentle thirteen mile commute to the start, the first stage is a super eye opener.  I can't remember the last time I spent a decent duration of time well above my lactate threshold and bumping all up into my maximum heart rate.  Mebbe somewhere at the Trans Sylvania Epic, but who knows?  My Wahoo data acquisition device was throwing garbage numbers at me all week in May.

It only takes a little rolling along before I'm shooting through the 170s and then remaining in the 180s (touching 189 once), so I guess my 56 year old hummingbird heart still works like it used to.  The trails couldn't have been in better condition, and I finished like I gave it my all... that is, I finished the first three mile stage like I gave it my all.  The second stage was more of the same, and I was feeling like mebbe I could do this all day.

Nope.

I'm almost immediately gassed on Stage Three.  My breakfast has been fully burned off, and the self-doubting thoughts are creeping in.  Mebbe I've bitten off more than I should be chewing these past couple months?  Watts starts to catch up to me, and I don't know that he didn't have the full one minute delay between our TT starts, so I think he's just closed down a full minute.  Sads.  I pass a turtle on the trail that I almost didn't see in time and screamed "TURTLE."  Knowing Watts's empathetic approach to living creatures (non-human), I realize he will stop to halp the turtle.

I appreciate this.

He does stop for the turtle... and still catches me.

"You moved the turtle, didn't you?"

"Yeth."

And then he passes me.

FWIW, I finally take the time to put some more nutrition inside me and add a little Coke to my system.  Being that the last two stages are climb-heavy, I take a short break to sort myself out before hitting the trails that should lean towards the minor advantages of being a tiny man.  It musta done the trick, because I felt more like myself again, albeit an on-the-edge-of-cramping version of myself.

At the finish, beer, foods, frands... wait for the results to slowly come in.  They can't be posted until they get all the riders through each stage.

Anyhoo...
 

Bruce, my occasional single speed nemesis won this time.  Watts and I just did what we do, get on a podium sometimes looking up those who have bested us on the day.  Watts did try to get a round of "WE HATE BRUCE" going, but the crowd would not join in.

Once again, Watts and I rolled around in the grass and accepted free and/or leftover beer until we were the last ones there.

Yeth, it hurt.  A lot.

Yeth, I will be back.  A lot.

Now... I gotta deal with the hot mess of a backyard party I have planned this weekend.

FINAL WARNING'ish

I'll get around to the King and Queen of the Watershed thing from this past Sunday ASAP, but I wanted to put out one last reminder that tonight at midnight is your last chance to get $13 coming my way to get in on the Horny Cat 69 semi-organized ride and also slightly more organized fundraiser party.  I'll wake up Tuesday, get any last minute people on the email list, and send out all the pertinent information about the route and whatnot... to include Ride with GPS links so you can get it loaded up on your data acquisition devices.  Bear with me (or bare with me), as I have a poorly timed dentist appointment tomorrow morning.  I swear, I'll get this done.

Once again, here are the details:

It will be this Saturday, October 11th.

The unsupported ride-at-your-own-risk group ride with an absolute "will drop you" policy on an arduous unmarked route knowing that the "group" will probably fall apart immediately will start almost promptly at 9:00am.

There will be a Tarheel Trailblazers fundraiser pizza/beer/one six pack of Fanta jubilee at my house which is also the end point of the ride.  An expected donation of $13 will get you access to yum yums and wets, and also you will be emailed a DOWNLOADABLE route Tuesday.  You can donate more if you choose to feel generous.  You can also donate, skip the ride, and just make great party as well.

SEND AN EMAIL TO SMELLYCAT100K@hotmail.com, and you will get payment information AND be added to the email distribution list.  

DON'T FORGET!  I GOT A PILE OF GIVEAWAYS FROM HANDUP TO THROW AT YOU!

THANK YOU FOR YOUR ATTENTION TO THIS MATTERED.

"I don't care if my jokes are appropriate for a kid." ~ Drew Carey

Next up on the menu...

My annual "go to Greensboro, make bad decisions, turn a twenty four mile event into a fifty mile ride, and hang with my other better half, Watts" trip.  The King and Queen of the Watershed is the "Race.Ride.Party." event with the priorities listed in reverse order, or mebbe just in our case.  Dunno.  Pretty sure they give you beer tickets, and if you don't need them, I know two guys with four thumbs and two bad haircuts who do.  A couple hours of intense effort over five stages is exactly when I've not been training for (never have tho TBH), but it's a great way to blow out my entire body at the almost end of the "season."  The scabs from my wreck three weeks ago have fallen off my bendy parts like autumnal leaves (with some encouragement), but my AC joint and hand are still slightly angry at me for still being alive.  Guess I'll ride my mid-squish single speed and load up on ibuprofen Sunday morning.

And when I get back...

Monday is the last day I'm taking donations for the Horny Cat 69 bike ride/party.  FWIW, HandUp just sent me a buttload of giveaway "prizes."

There's like 50-60 something pairs of gloves, socks, jersey, fenders, hats and whatnot in that pile.  These will hopefully be distributed in a more organized manner this year, assuming I'm not in the emergency room for the better part of the day.  So for your (minimum) donation of $13, you get pizza, beer, a bike ride of some distance up to 69 miles, and something worth something.  This has to be the best idea for a self-sustaining economy since the invention of Paddy's Dollars.

Most of the details are here in an older post or on the Facebook events page (which just sends you back Paddy's Dollars' style to the blerhg post).  If you know enough already, and just wanna throw your money in the cup, send me an email at smellycat100k@hotmail.com, and I'll get back to you at my convenience.

Ridge Runout Gravel '25... but First, Some Horny News

We are now fewer than three weeks out from the Horny Cat 60 bike party/bike ride/fundraiser.  I'm gonna stop taking donations on October 6th for reals.  If you ride bikes and drink beers and eat pizza and live in Charlotte, you have no excuses.  Come.  Have fun (as much as you want).  I'm not twisting any arms, but I might consider giving noogies.  HandUp just mailed me a pile of stuff, so between the beer, pizza, and swag, at the low cost of $13, you're losing money if you don't come out and play.  Email me at smellycat100k@hotmail.com for deets.

Well, despite being still banged up from lawn-darting myself around mile .72 at the Pisgah Monster Cross two weekends ago, I decided to finally let myself be coerced into signing up for Big 'n Buttery's Ridge Runout Gravel pilot event.  Obvs, garvel is still not my thing, but I'm trying to stay on this "fitness journey," and my ability to ride trail for an extended period of time is still limited by my banged up hand and this:

That's still sticking up and causing discomfort.  Fortunately, 99% of riding a bike on a non-bumpy surface is okay, so with that in mind...

Bonehead mistakes are made.

Since I figured I wouldn't be riding my Vertigo Meatplow V.7 between Pisgah Monster Cross and the Fonta Flora Barnburner 50k (Oct 18), I went ahead and put the garvel wheels/tires back on the noodle bar bike (that I'd be sadly relegated to riding for awhile until I get molar betterer) and reinstalled the w-i-d-e Hydra crabon hoops with my usual 2.6/2.4 tire combo.  Whilst I didn't wanna spin an extra pound and a half of rubber knobbies in circles, I also signed up so late that I didn't have the wherewithal to make the swap again.  

Other dum dums?  Not only did I forget that I can't reach my right jersey pocket and that's exactly where I put my Scandinavian Swimmers, I also made a mistake that I didn't know was possible.  I decided to finally use some of the Chamois Butter samples I'd been collecting for years, and when I ripped that purple and yellow pack open and put a big squirt in my hand...

Did you know they make a Kit Wash sample that comes in an almost identical pack because I certainly did not.

Sigh.

All that and once again I failed at loading a route on my Wahoo Data Acquisition Device or didn't start it properly and spent most of the day 129 feet from a right turn on to Valley "something."

Anyhoo...

There weren't a whole lotta riders present, but that was by design.

"This dry run is an opportunity to ride the full course with a larger group, provide feedback, and help refine logistics for the 2026 series."

And also this:

"No podiums—just community, effort, and post-ride beer and pizza/food. It’s not a race.  

But… we all know better."

Hmmm... so you don't have to go fast, but there's always gonna be "tryers," isn't there?

The course is described as "front loaded fun," which means...

So... the good news is the single speed will only be a limiting factor down in that rolling valley, assuming the raging descent at the start doesn't destroy my untested shoulder or that my 32 X 19 was a poor choice given my inability to really pull up on the bars when climbing outta the saddle.

FWIW: People were on all manner of bikes, proper noodle bar bikes from an ENVE MOG to a steel Soma, to long travel hard tails with tiny tires and flat pedals and a pre-Boost Niner SS frame converted to noodle bar duties, and a fair amount of regular old full squish XC bikes.  All we needed was a tall bike, a bakfiet, and a bearded dude in SPD sandals, and it woulda been like RAGBRAI... if it went down and up a mountain.

The first thirteen mile descent was a doozie.  Rough and fast and most of the groups that were rolling together for the first five or so miles blew apart.  I saw a few people dealing with flats, and that at least made me feel slightly better about my tire (non)selection.  Down in the "valley," things went as expected.  I was caught and passed while I helplessly spun and tucked and watched riders disappear ahead of me.  At east I get to "look forward" to the climb?

There's a slight incline approach alongside Carroll Mill Creek that kinda worked out with my gearing.  That said, I was riding along with Jason at a talking pace, he'd suffered a flat and a slow leak earlier... and I thought mebbe I'd have company for the first time.  Then he saw Big 'n Buttery pulled over to help someone else with a flat...

"You have a pump?"

And just like that, Jason seized the opportunity to save his last CO2 and get some free air from Big 'n Buttery.  Now I'm gonna be lonely again, but my thinking was as long as I could get to the base of the climb up Pineola before they can pull me back as a group, so bueno?

Well, it woulda been bueno, but they all came around me well before the aid station at mile 36.  Most of them stopped, but I just grabbed a cookie and kept rolling, gambling on whether or not doing this whole thing on two large water bottles and the handful of candy I painstakingly swapped to my hip pocket was a stupid idea.  I passed one rider on the early part of the climb, and from there, I essentially just stared at the colored arrows on my Wahoo Data Acquisition Device for an hour.  Recover on the greens, stay seated on the yellows, stand on the oranges, and suffer through the reds.  At the top, I realized I was still miles from the finish, but I went all-in anyways.

It was a welcome sight to climb up the gravel driveway of Wildhaven Farm.  I rolled past the parked cars... nobody.  Past the pizza and beer... nobody.  Up to the timing clock and... I'm the first one here?

 

I did not expect that in the least.

They took glamour shots in front of the pond, kind of a "who rode what" thing.  Obviously, the best choice for next year's events is a rigid single speed with 2.6/2.4 tires, 780mm bars, and a 175mm drooper post.

So, first overall in the "non-race."

And first single speed (also in the "non-race").

Big 'n Buttery came up with the podium idea while he was riding up Pineola Road, obviously his brain not getting enough oxygen at the time.  Kinda wished I woulda stood up, but being a couple beers deep and wobbly from the effort of the day, sitting was the choice move for this acrophobic old man.

So that was another good use of fitness, and although I went into this with a "this course don't make no sense" attitude, it kinda did.  Good times, gooder ride, and great company.

Now back to the business of healing up proper.

Aroused Feline LXIX is coming...

It's been a fun week of wound care/scab management, avoiding obstacles with certain body parts, googling AC joint separation/sprain, adapting my "strength training" to accommodate my limited mobility and keeping sensitive areas from touching the ground or bearing weight (pushups still ain't happening), and really missing my mountain bike.  It really is time to start getting back to the business of lining up ducks for the Horny Cat 69 in less than a month, or as it's known south of the border...

Most of the important details are already in this post, so click on over if you dunno anything about what's going on.  I'm gonna keep taking your money for the party/fundraiser until EOD October 6th.  I'd rather close it up Sunday night, but I had to go ahead and add a day because I'll be busy with the King and Queen of the Watershed and any related fallout until Monday morning.  For a minimum of $13 (there is no maximum), you can ride around and have a big 69 mile adventure (or less if you so choose) that ends in a party and probably/mebbe some swag. 

I've been out and about with my limited physicality making sure things are as they should be.

The sketchy bridge is still strong enough to withstand the downward forces generated by a skinny but fat four apple tall man on a slightly upgraded mid-level build noodle bar bike with too much sealant in the tires.  I suspect it will still be okay in a month's time.

I rode the entire Mount Muck section, and currently... it's dry?  I couldn't believe it myself, but I managed to get through the whole thing without walking around one swamp or sippy hole.  It had been running about like this the last time I explored down there:

Fangers crossed.

I've already got a decent number of people coming, but the more the merrier... until there's too many... but I'm not there quite yet.  A few people paid up just to donate to the cause and aren't even attending.  I've yet to get one female participant, but I seem to remember every woman who came last year completed nearly everything... but then again, what do I know?  I spent most of the day in the E.R.  

Anyways, it ain't all about the Horny Cat yet.  Still got the King and Queen of the Watershed and the Barnburner 50k to knock out, so I'm gonna still be an "athlete" for a few more weeks.

Had to stock up on Cheat Juice™, as I'll be boosting my Hemo Goblins until the end of the "season" and starting right back up when it's time to get ready for Winter Shart Tarck.  I've been using it pretty consistently as opposed to just before rides since... some time in April?  The science is there to back it up, so you don't have to base your nutrition decisions on the incredibly "successful" year that I've had.

And speaking of stocking up...

Although I have a shit ton of HandUp gloves, I picked up a couple more pairs of Sundura gloves.  I know it's gonna get chilly in a couple months, and I'll have to resort to warmer options, but I've grabbed these more often than any other pair of gloves this entire summer.  Mebbe I'll select vented gloves when it's balls hot outside and I'm thinking performance over comfort, but the Sunduras just seem inexplicably more comfortable than any other full fanger hand covers made by HandUp.

And if I've learned anything about finding a favorite anything, it's that hoarding is the only option.

Anyhoo, get into Horny Cat now, so I can be more worried about the weather on October 11th than I already am.