I Wish I Had Something

I wish I had something to write about today but I aint got much. Riding time has been down recently but I'm feeling refreshed and ready to rip at a moments notice. Hopefully tonight will be one of those moments. Hopefully a multi-hour mtb ride will be in order.

As the summer progresses, I've been trying to up my running. It's pretty easy for me to get up in the morning and go for a quick run before getting ready so I've been doing that as often as possible but up until this week, the runs have been pretty short, in the 20 minute range. This week, I've started to extend the runs so that when my off road tri comes up in August I won't be sucking wind on the 1.5 hour mountain run.  This morning saw me out for about 45 minutes including a run up Mt. Hunger which isn't really a mountain by even the most relaxed definitions but it's all I've got handy and it's only a 15 minute run from my door so it works in perfectly with my "training" plans.  Multiple intervals up that thing will be in order in the next month.  Ugh.  I can't believe that I've sworn off bike intervals this summer but here I am talking about doing running intervals.  Quick, somebody find a t-square and impale me on it!  Just kidding, architects haven't used t-square (or even pencils) for fricken years.  Better just bludgeon me over the head with my computer.  That'll do the trick.

Oh yeah, what is the pic above?  Well, Marcy and I are iced coffee fiends and one of Marcy's friends bought her one from DD last week and gave it to her in this ridiculous looking, "I'm white trash!" screaming insulated mug.  We couldn't imagine carrying it around so I stickered it up to make it a bit less gauche.  (can't believe I just used gauche).  Why am I mentioning it here?  To be honest, I have no frickin idea but I needed to fill space.  Mission accomplished.

The Weekend!

Or, more accurately, the weekend. What was expected to be a great riding weekend ended up as just a nice weekend with little riding.  I got up early on Saturday to get a 2.5-3 hour hilly road ride in.  Sadly, the legs were crappy after 4 days off the bike and I had a lot of work to do so I cut the ride short at 2 hours knowing that I'd get a better ride in on Sunday.  Well, Sunday came and by the time I got all my shite done on the house I was so fried that, for once, a ride didn't seem all that enticing.  Beers and a movie?  Now that sounded good. 

What's on tap for this week?  Who knows but it'll include some hours and intensity.  Laters.

Runnin' Runnin' Runnin'

If you've been reading the blog for long, you know that I L-O-V-E to post self pics of myself because if I didn't post pictures of myself on the internet, nobody else would and then, how could I google image myself? Actually, if you google image "rick nelson" you're only going to see images of a much more handsome and much, much more deader singer from the 50's. I post enough photos of myself that I'm forced to make fun of me. Basically so that other people won't pick on me and hurt my feelings. Thankfully, my brother has no qualms with making me write sad entries in my diary while I brush tears from my eyes while listening to that dreamy Justin Bieber and posted an homage to me on his facebook page.  Too bad for him he's a chubbier, much less handsome-er version of me even if he did go out and buy the same sunglasses that I have. 

Ok, cut to the chase.  I haven't posted a self pic of myself for a while so as I was heading out for a run the other morning I grabbed the camera and tried to take some good shots while I ran.  Take it from me, taking (good) photos of yourself while riding is tough, taking (even bad) photos of yourself while running is extremely hard.

I got a bunch of tree shots, a couple of extreme close-ups of my shorts, a sweet nostril shot and then this:

Not the most exciting pic in the world.  So being that a blog is all about vanity (and trying to score free shit) I actually self posed for this pic:

Almost the same but it makes it look like I've got actual musk-els down there.  Then I tried to get some head shots.  Most were total and utter crap but I did land this bad boy and the one at the title.

Towards the end of the run I was getting all hot and sweaty so I shed the shirt and decided to take a few more pics. Let me tell you, you haven't seen shockingly white skin until you see these pics. Holy crap, I'd scare albino bunnies in that state. Sadly, while I don't have much of an appropriateness filter, I do have one and the warning alarms (and douche chills) were blaring so you won't see them but here's a little taste. I call it nipple pubes and pit hair.

Tub-O

As I mentioned yesterday, during the Pinnacle race I busted my cherished Fizik Arione saddle.  Not in the typical busted rail way though.  No, I cracked the shell in half.

I've never seen this happen before so when I heard the first crack during the race I assumed that a rail had busted but things felt fine so I kept going.  A while later there was a much louder CRACK! and at this point I noticed much more flex so I figured both rails had snapped and it was just a matter of time before I'd be riding saddle-less trying desperately to not be sodomized by my thompson post.

Very strange but thankfully (hopefully at least) my boyz at Bikeman.com think they can get me a warranty replacement since it's never been thrashed.  Good thing because those things aint cheap!

Get the Creak Out

So, yesterday I met up with my buds Kevin and Sam for a ride in the Falmouth area.  There are oodles of trails down there and I've never really seen any of them so it was my chance to finally sample so choice singletrack just outside of Portland.  I was amazed by what he had right out his back door.  We rode for 2.5 solid hours and apparently only did maybe half of what he has right there.  Damn.  Unfortunately, instead of truly enjoying the trails, I instead was dealing with a few bike issues that took my head out of the game.  First, I broke my saddle (more on that tomorrow) at the Pinnacle and had snagged a WTB test ride saddle from the shop on the way down to use for the time being.  I was late for the ride so I essentially threw the saddle on and we headed out.  It was immediately clear that I had positioned it incorrectly with the tip pointing slightly up so I felt like I was sliding off the back.  At our first stop I proceeded to quickly fix it and ended up with this:

ummmm, no.

One more stop and fiddling with the thompson elite posts two stupid bolt adjustment system later and I was good to go.  Now I would only be annoyed with my rear brakes and some mysterious creak that has recently developed.  Every chance I got I stopped and fiddled with this and that trying to find the creak and to tweak my rear brake.  I got the brake somewhat better but never found the creak.  By the time the ride was over I was convinced that I had a cracked frame.

It's hard to enjoy this when you have creaking on the brain and a saddle nose lodged up yer ass.

All was not lost on the ride.  On the way down as I passed through a $1 toll booth the toll guy waved me through because the dude ahead of me (in the kia thing on the right) had paid my toll.  I tried to catch him to flash him a nipple as my way of saying thanks but we entered a construction zone before I could.  So sad.

This morning I got to work (while waiting for B to wake up) cleaning the bike and going over it to find the cause of the creak.  A quick wash down showed no obvious cracks and my totally fool proof method of grabbing the brakes and reaming on the bike this way and that led me to the rear end.  What to do first?  It could be any multiple things but I figured the first and easiest thing to try would be to grease the quick release.  That didn't work but switching it out to a new qr seemed to.  In my totally fool proof testing method everything now seems fine but the proof will be in the pudding of tomorrow's ride.  Fingers crossed.

naughty, naughty hope qr.  but your color matches my salsa frame soooo well.

Dumbbell

As I mentioned in my last race report, my one weakness (in racing only, I have no personal or professional weakness'.  ok, maybe grammar and punctuation) is climbing.  As a result, I've been hitting up the Camden Snow Bowl on a regular basis.  The beast includes 20 minutes of climbing right from the gun so should be good training for any easy coast race I've got coming up this summer.  I hit the bowl once last week and then planned on another trek there on Sunday, father's day.  The weekend was beautiful with sun and temps in the high 70's low 80's so you knew that when my time came to ride it had to go to shit.

Sho nuf.

It rained like hell the whole way there and a call to Marcy confirmed that they had lost power after a nasty thunder storm rolled through.  I briefly turned around to head home (getting a call to your wife cut off in the middle of a nasty storm and then being unable to get her back on the phone tends to make one worry) but ended up making the drive fully expecting to be denied a ride but the optimistic little boy in me maintained hope.  Thankfully, the showers were not wide spread and while I arrived at the bowl in light rain, by the time I was suited up the rain had stopped and sun threatened to come out.

almost sunny at the summit

As usual, the trails were a blast but it was a bit frustrating to find out that one of the trails that has been around for years is gone since it clipped a neighbor's property so now there is no way to loop the snow bowl area with the rollins road area and instead I was forced to do the dreaded out and back (check out he dumb part of the dumbbell photo at top).  Thankfully, the trails in the rollins area are really fun and worth the 20+ minute ride out.  Fear not though, McNemba, the CMLT and the Snow Bowl are working diligently to pull everything back together.

Last summer, IMBA's trail crew paid the place a visit and their influence is obvious in some of the new trail building with excellent flow, contour surfing and beautiful bench cuts.

One full loop with all of the trails (at least all of the trails that I knew how to link together) and one race loop had me tired and content.  My climbing legs are coming back.  Question is, will they be ready for Pats Peak?

The Student Becomes the Master

In case you haven't noticed, I've mentioned about a dozen times that KillBill has given me a few pointers on how to rip the descents and I've been sure to give him lots-o credit. Well, that's all gonna change after seeing the pics from this weekend's race. The two pics were taken at the bottom of the Plunge, the uber steep, wicked fast drop right before the finish line.

At first glance, all looks fine except, maybe I'm in a more agro position but otherwise, things look fine.  But look more closely.

me? no brakes.  all speed.

KillBill?  all brakes, all the time.

Next week I'll be giving KB a lil lesson of his own... :)

Note, all photos were stolen from:  http://www.randalltate.com/web_galleries/20100613_Pinnacle/
 Please don't tell! :)

I Have A Confession

This is hard for me to say after trumpeting the single speed horn for the last year but I've found recently that I really like gears. Gears on my bike are fun. Not because I can ride faster (unless it's a super fast course like the Big Ring Rumpus) but because I can climb slower. After this weekend's race, The Pinnacle, and a visit to the Camden Snow Bowl last evening I can safely say that lots of climbing, especially the super steep climbing at the bowl, is way more fun when you're not about to rupture a spleen mashing a much too high gear up a much too steep trail.

More gears equals less pain. Duh.

With that said, I do actually still enjoy the ss for most riding/racing, just not at the ski resort type courses. It just so happens, though, that I have three of those type races coming up in the very near future so it looks like those gears will be on for a bit longer. Fear not though, once the Snow Bowl race has come and gone, so will be the gears as I prep for the Bradbury 12 and my defense of the solo single speed category.

Speaking of 12 hour races, I got an e-mail about a potential new 12 hour race happening in Presque Isle this September. Presque Isle is a pant load and a half of driving away but damn is that course fun. Somehow we'll have to find a way to get a group there. Anybody want to join a two man ss team? (Laps?) It's a week before the Bradbury 12 so I can't imagine stacking two 12 hour solos together but six hours? That sounds like a good warm-up for Bradbury.

The Pinnacle, A Race Report

Pre-ride. We came to New Hampster a day early so that I could get two good pre-rides on the course. One on Saturday and one on Sunday as my warm-up. Saturday I ran into a trail running race and only hit part of the course. What I did hit was the shit though. I was told that the mtb course would be marked on Sunday so I went out uber early to get a lap in before we had to pack up and get out of the hotel. Too bad I found out after this pre-ride that I had actually done the first loop of the novice race. That's 0 for 2. I did two pre-rides and still had little to no clue what the race was going to be like.

Before the race I did a shitty, half assed warm-up because I was busier socializing than getting my act together so when the gun went off and the huge field of experts went into the woods I was a bit worried. In the sprint across the field I was probably 10 or so riders back but was able to move around most of the group and enter the woods either third or fourth wheel which I figured was pretty good since we had a bunch of open climbing ahead.

That lil ol' me on the far right.

A couple folks passed me on the opening climbs but I was being careful not to over cook myself. The legs were obviously not warmed up enough so I knew I needed to ease into the race. I had Bob Carney (series leader and ripper offer of legs at the Rumpus) just ahead of me so I was happy with my position. Soon, we caught up to the back end of the Expert Senior 1 and 2 fields and this is where the madness began. There were people everywhere so any chance I got I would sprint around other riders. On one open climb, one that I had marked as a good passing place in my pre-ride, I was able to pass 6 people by riding in a slightly less desirable but totally rideable line. I think this was when I passed Bob which made me happy since I'd be able to put a few people between us and force him to chase me for a change (that is if he even knew who I was and that I was up there). The rest of lap one was a conga line in the woods. I rode everything cleanly despite the traffic but got frustrated on several occasions when riders in front of us bobbled, got off and started walking up the trail. Annoying.

When we got to the top of the climb I was really able to let it rip. With the help of KillBill and a little practice I've turned into a much better descender and was able to close all sorts of gaps and made some very good time despite the traffic. At one point during the downhill I broke the cardinal "no swearing" rule by announcing that the downhill was so f'ing good they should package it for sale. Yep, I was loving it.

At the beginning of lap two my lack of climbing fitness started to rear it's ugly head. A couple of guys passed me in the opening climb and I had nothing to respond with so I bided my time and hoped to pull them back in on the downside. Which I kinda did. Unfortunately, because of all the traffic in the first two laps I had no clue who or where the leaders in my class were. I hoped that I was looking at a podium but felt for sure that I was somewhere in the 5-6 range. Regardless, I always rate my races by my overall placing and not my age class so I knew I was having a good race considering the amount of passing I had been able to do.

zoomy zoom

Lap three was where the hurting really began. I was still yo-yo'ing with a couple of expert riders who were definitely stronger on the climbs but I was able to pull them in on most of the tech downhill sections. The last 2 miles consisted of me and one other dude hauling some serious ass through the last few sections. Me on his wheel (or slightly off) and him just frickin nailing everything. It was a rip and helped me forget the pain in my body and helped us drop a guy who had been closing in. We hit the final Pinnacle Plunge with only a few seconds between us but he managed to stay ahead of me to the finish.

The Plunge. I'm not sure of the grade of this beast but you can easily hit 40 mph in the short drop.

When I rolled over to where Marcy and B were hanging out with some friends marcy told me that she thought I was 2nd or 3rd since only a few people had finished. I couldn't imagine it was true but it turned out I was 3rd in the expert vet field and 5/64-ish in the entire expert field. I'll take that. Given my total lack of focus or riding volume (hovering around a 5-6 hour per week average) I'll take a solid top 10% finish any day. Especially against such a huge field.

At the Pinnacle

NECS #4, the Pinnacle was yesterday (Sunday). It was a hoot of a course with lots 'o climbing, a wicked fun descent and a metric shit ton of competitors. I won't get the race report up for today (that'll come tomorrow) but I would like to give a shout-out to the peeps I saw yesterday that (I realized later) I may have given a bit of a brush off to because of the general craziness of the day. Tons of people around, my family there, some college friends who showed up to see us, yada yada yada had me feeling like a bit of a douche this morning. Most of the people who I had to rush conversations with were probably secretly happy that I had to run off but just for the sake fluffing my ego (thinking that they were all extremely hurt) here are the folks who I'd like to say sorry to:

Laps. (sorry dude, I think I rushed not one but two conversations. I'll be seeing you again soon right?)
ThomP. (though he was so busy laughing nervously and taking video of every elite rider in sight that he probably doesn't even remember talking to me).
George W.
Will C.
Freye Guy. (not only did I have to rush off while we were talking but I also briefly forgot his girlfriend's name when I met here out on course. Hattie, I did remember it just as I got out of earshot. I blame this on lack of oxygen getting to my brain since I was mid climb at that point)
Colin and Kevin. (I was in such a rush that I didn't even introduce myself to them. Not that they know who I am...)
Steve and Amanda. (wait, I did talk to you guys. Amanda, I hope your hand is OK)

there are probably others but I'm blanking right now. Race report tomorrow.

pre-race warm-up with B

Get the Poison (ivy) Out

It's been what, three weeks since the Maine Mayhem!? I didn't mention it earlier but I picked up poison ivy from that race. That wicked fun race. Mid course the trail takes you, meandering, through a delish poison ivy patch. They keep it trimmed back so I don't think I ever touched it myself but I'm so allergic that if other people touch it and transfer the oils to trees, bushes etc and then I touch that I get it. And sure 'nuff, I got it.

I've had poison ivy so bad through the years that I need to have it pretty bad for it to really affect me so this year it wasn't too bad, just itchy little bumps scattered all over my body (including perilously close to my man bits). Things seem to finally be clearing up but I'm guessing that it'll come raging back since I spied bits of it around this past weekend's race course. Poison Ivy, the scourge of the planet!

Poison ivy lined probably 25% of the Rump-ass course.

A couple things that I failed to mention the days leading up to the race. We were supposed to camp near the race venue Saturday night but ma nature gave us the high hard one in the form of torrential rain, thunder & lighting and nugget sized hail so we decided to stay within the comfy confines of our home and drive to the race on Sunday. And it's a good thing we did. Saturday, mid afternoon a raging storm blew through and about .2 seconds before the torrential rains started there was a deafening CRACK! and our power went out. We didn't know it at the time but lighting had struck somewhere between our house and the road blowing our transformer sky high. So, instead of being able to relax with the fam I instead worried about the $100's of dollars worth of food in the fridge (including recently purchased omaha steaks) and moving about 4 cord of wood so that Central Maine Power could get to our pole if need be.

This is a dramatic recreation of the transformer.

Once that was done, Marcy and B were already in bed and I still had all sorts of nervous energy to burn off while I waited to hear back from CMP. What to do, what to do? Well, it just so happens that I had been growing my leg hair out enough so that I could wax so I donned a helmet light, wipped out my Nads and got to work.

I would love to say that waxing your legs by lamp light was an effective and romantic use of my time but when I woke up in the morning and was able to assess the situation I looked more like this:

than this:

It seems that 800 lumens is perfectly adequate to ride at full speed at night but not bright enough to wax your manly legs. Who knew?

Rump-ass continued.

If you missed part 1, read THIS first.

So there I was, pacelining with two others with 1.5 laps to go and all that I could think of was my strategery. I was pretty much spent but somehow I needed to beat Brian L. to the line so that I could podium. I needed to take my pulls at the front so that any groups behind us didn't latch back on but I also needed to save a tad so that I could muster a sprint at the end. With the three of us being wheel to wheel, a sprint was pretty much a sure thing. So, on the last half of the next to last lap I found the spot where I would attack. Just before getting back to the field where the finish was, you could just catch a glimpse through the woods of the finish chicane. Any winning (3rd place) move would have to happen before the chicane since passing there would be tough. So I decided to make my move there (or a bit further out depending on how things shook out), dive into the chicane, rail the tight corners (which thanks to KillBill's advice, I was riding better than anyone else in the group on the day) and roll across the line victorious, in third place. Ahh, plans. So simple yet so impossible.

So, we're back out on our final lap (which I had to confirm with several other riders that it was, indeed, our final lap) and we're all dutifully taking our short pulls and I'm wondering if anyone has anything up their sleeves. Just to be careful, I was staying extra close to Brian L. So close that in one tight, fast corner he slowed a bit and edged to the right and nearly took me out when our wheels crossed. Maybe that was HIS strategery. Thankfully, I saved it just before taking a dirt nap.

And the group rolled merilly along.

Finally, with less than a mile to go I began to look for my opportunity. That opportunity came as I saw a slower rider up ahead. Brian was currently at the front so my plan was to dart around Brian just as we approached the slower rider and use him to slow any counter attack by Brian. Is that a poor move to use traffic to almost win? Maybe so but I ain't above it. So, as we approached the other rider, I quietly shifted into my highest gear and stood to sprint and kachunk, kachunk, kachunk. My highest two gears were completely packed with sand and trail debris so the chain wouldn't stay on and I was forced to downshift and sit, hanging my head in disbelief. I had just showed my hand.

So, now I was at the front giving Brian the perfect lead out and I didn't have my top two gears. Things looked grim. Shortly, we reached my do or die area where the finish is just visible through the trees. I was still in front and had no idea if Brian was going to make a move so I did what I could, launched a quick attack and was able to enter the chicane first (third) and earn a glorious victory (for third) when Brian just let my dumb ass go.

less than 5 minutes after the finish the skies unleashed their furry with drenching downpours, high winds and lightning finishing the race for folks still out on course.

Big Ring Rump-ass

As you all know (if you read this garbage at least), I had a racey race on Sunday, the Big Ring Rumpus. It was advertised as a hammerfest with minimal technical requirements. I didn't know exactly what to expect but given that description I figured running a single speed against geared riders as I normally do would be a bad idea. So the gears went on. Boy am I glad I did. The course was so freakin fast that I'd have had to have run a 34x13 to have a chance of surviving. A gear like that would make my knee caps explode if I hit a hill with a grade of .02 or above. As it was, I spent a lot of time in my 34x12 and 34x11. Lets just say that the course was fast, like probably 18 mph average speed fast.

It rained like a mofo for the whole 2.5 hour drive to the race but "cleared" up once I got there. The rain mercifully held off (mostly) for the whole race.

I also had a ThomP sighting. He's just as nervous and laughy in person.

This being my first regional EFTA race since I moved up to expert, I was unsure of how I would fare against some of New England's fastest. I was so delusional in my pre-race optimism that I actually considered racing in the elite race. If they had had an elite/open category I probably would have done it but I didn't want to be stuck in the Elite class if I sucked it wicked haaad (that's new england for hard) so I opted for the expert class instead. Good choice.

The race started (I actually typed sharted there initially) on a, shocking!, gravel fire road and we (10 of us in the expert vet field) immediately went from zero to eleven on the effort scale and a pace line immediately formed. My first thought was "holy shit, this is going to hurt" followed closely by "I probably should have properly warmed up for this" followed by "I hope it starts to thunder and lighting so they call this early". Shit was that hurting. More than normal race start hurt. In most mtb races you go ballz out for a bit but there is always a downhill breather or a technical area you have to pick through or something to allow you to catch your breath. Not in the Rumpus. With the largest hill being a whopping 5' of elevation gain and only about 2-3 rocks to avoid on the whole course it meant hammer down for 7 (seven!) laps. I don't know about you but I have a hard time keeping track of 4 laps in a typical race but seven? yeah, this might be a problem.

So here I am, in a world of hurt as we're pace lining wicked fast around the four mile course in 13 minutes flat trying my darndest to stay off the front. There were three guys doing most of the work, Brian Currier, Bob Carney and Brian Lavigne (three names I'm sure to get to know well as the season progresses). They wanted me too help to but I just couldn't do it. I was suffering with molten legs and wheezing like a fat kid on a treadmill. To be clear, when I say pace lining, I mean pace lining. As in your front wheel 6-12" from the wheel in front of you. It was one of the most organized pacelines I've ever been in during a road, I mean, mountain bike race.

The laps wizzed by with not much happening except for dropping riders in the group like flies. I was suffering but not so much that I wasn't keeping on my toes to avoid getting gapped. A 20' gap meant sure death if you didn't have a drafting partner.

Somewhere around lap 3 or 4 my legs started to feel a bit better so I took a few short pulls. Enough to keep my fellow pace liners from lynching me at the end of the race but not enough to totally shell me so that I'd get pooped out the back of our now 4 man group.

Bob and Brian Currier were obviously the strongest two in the group and I suspected I had no chance to out sprint them at the end but what little chance I had would be improved if I played it smart and didn't completely blow myself. Remember, it's not always the strongest rider that wins a road race, shit did it again, it's the rider who is smart AND strong.

With 1.5 laps to go, Bob and Brian picked up the pace a bit and Brian Lavigne let a bit of a gap develop. I was behind Brian but I didn't initially worry since Brian had always been good about closing any gaps. Work for me Brian! Damnit! Unfortunately, Brian had been hiding his fatigue well and before we knew it the two were gone. I tried valiantly to pull them back (for about 1 minute) but succeeded only in wasting what little energy I had left while still losing time so Brian L. and I settled into a somewhat slower paceline with a recently picked up expert senior 2 rider.

woops, the last two laps will have to come tomorrow.

Say It Ain't So!

Well, here you go, my precious Selma with a couple pounds of (usually) unnecessary bits all ready to go for the Big Ring Rumpus.

I thought I might need the gears and hooo-boy was I right. No time for a post today so I'll see you back here tomorrow.

What Am I Thinking?

After a hectic (and frustrating) morning yesterday, I've got the Selma all set to run gears for this weekend's race. Selma is going to be a bit confused by all the clicking, clacking and what-not going on but I suspect she'll do just fine. That is, of course, if I didn't totally bone the build. Hopefully tonight or tomorrow night I'll be able to at least give her a quick test run before heading to New Hampster for the weekend. At least, for once, I won't be bringing a knife to a gun fight.

Bam!

Bam!

Blip?

Boom!

That seems like an awful lot of unnecessary crap to be bolting to my bike but I think it's totally needed for this weekend. Unless I have way too much fun this weekend, the gears will be coming off for next weekend's more singletracky race. KillBill is constantly trying to convince me to go gears AND full suspension so, who knows, this may be the start.

As most of you know, we've been having a beautiful spring so far in the northeast. Lots of sun and little rain has left the trails in mid summer form. Not bad but the one sure way to bring that to an end is to schedule a night camping. Yesterday, Marcy confirmed our reservations @ Pawtuckaway State Park which is 30 minutes from Sunday's race so you that we'd have to get rain. Sure enough, based on this morning's weather forecast we'll be getting rain on Saturday but it does look sunny for Sunday. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the rain ends up being spotty and just enough to tack things up.

Sooooo, anybody else up for some potentially wet camping??? Laps? ThomP? Anybody? Anybody?

Shelled.

In case you didn't notice, the title of today's post is Shelled. as in "shelled, period". Last night I did the Brunswick road group ride and I feel like a tough flank steak that has been severely tenderized. 3+ hours on the road, two of it in the group ride, literally turning myself inside out, has left my legs two bloody stumps of useless flesh (hence the bloody, legless squirrel pic).

I'm too spent to write. See you tomorrow.

Let's See Now

We just wrapped up a three day weekend and I just barely squeezed in a ride yesterday. It wasn't looking like it was going to happen after two and a half days of manly chainsawing action I was pretty much spent when my opportunity to ride home from Marcy's mother's place came up. Lets see, beer, giant whoopie pie/birthday cake (not mine), swimming off a sunny dock and maybe a nap OOOORRRRR suck it up and ride 3hrs home. It was a rough one but I did finally get my ass on the bike and hit the road for a hilly ride home. I was feeling like shit for an hour and a half, only feeling decent when I was out of the saddle on some of the long climbs. Then I noticed something odd when I stopped for a coke and cookie (thought that might make me feel better) my rear brake was rubbing again. Just like it did in the last crit race I did. I'm not sure how this keeps happening but I re-centered the brake and proceeded on my merry way no longer feeling quite so bad about my miserable fitness.

my photo shop skillz are lame (don't actually even have photo shop) but here is the route with my start and stop brake rubbing area. some big hills in there.

The plan for tonight is to pick up a derailleur hanger for the selma so that I can run gears for this weekend's race since it's supposed to be super fast. Then, if I get out of work in time it'll be time for a blood letting at the Brunswick road ride. This is a ride that gives non asthmatics asthma cough when the ride is over. Just what I need.

If I don't get out of work in time, I might hit up the Bath ride with the Bathers. After all, I need to see the sign from the opening pic hanging. You see, last week there was much e-mail banter going back and forth about a new trail in Bath that Gary architected (I'm told by Mr. Channing that this is a real word even though I'm an architect and I'd never even heard of it. Of course, I haven't heard of lots of words.). It had been nicknamed the G-spot. I think 43 e-mails were traded if I remember correctly. A solid ten or fifteen revolved around my self proclaimed lack of knowledge, or need, of the G-spot. I think my "I only use sex for baby making and punishment" e-mail summed it up nicely.

As a surprise for the group, I made the above pictured sign before last week's ride. Unfortunately, it's hard maple and tough to drive nails through so Gary took it home to pre-drill and hang at a later day so tonight could the the hanging ceremony.

your knobs get packed with sand when you're near the G-spot

Hmmm, now I'm not sure which ride to do. It's nice to have such dilemmas.