Where to
begin? Well maybe it is better to begin where it ends and the end begins right
in my own backyard. After a winter of heavy drug abuse beating down Lyme’s
the cool
spring temps and raging hormones had me feeling frisky in the saddle and ready
to revisit the good old ultra pain cave.
And what
better way is there to blow the dust off the old bike then with a El Obamador
inspired thrashing – The Bear Mountain Beatdown. This classic MRC ride is the
cycling equivalent of the Farmer’s Almanac, giving a preseason look into just
how much Jan Ulrich pastry eating one has been up to over the winter.
Being on point with the Marine Corp contingent (Brian Man O’Steel & El Obamador) proved
to be rather painful but was a good reference that all had not been lost over
the past 8 months of treatments. Struggling over the passes the reward at the
end made it all worthwhile and appropriately summed up what the day was like.
Feeling
manly from survival training on the BMBD it was off to the Wildcat 100,
a dirty century held right in my backyard. Signing up was mistake number 1,
riding it on a cold rainy day was mistake number 2 and thinking the organizer
would properly mark the course was mistake number 3. Cold, wet and thoroughly
marinated in a lactic acid sauce by the time I reached the summit of Minnewaska
State Park it was a call to Mrs C-Dubbs to come save my sorry ass from this
miserable event and park it on the sofa with a hot rum toddy. At long last it
looked like the streak of 18 straight completed dirty centuries had come to an
end, it wasn’t until the next day when I found out the less than obvious course
markings had resulted in a race closer to 90 miles – streak intact! Lesson
learned……like Roberto Duran, NO MAS for these races.
With the racing
page having been turned and a kinder/gentler C-Dubbs on the bike, the annual
Gran Fondo changed from the leg burning multi-mile climb event to a more scenic tour of
Ulster/Sullivan counties. There continued to be outbreaks of
sandinmymanginaitis in the NECS ranks but we also welcomed our newest female
member to the pack – Yo Bike Chick. The new route also included the addition of
the Jack & Luna’s espresso stop and the all time new favorite of the
NECS/MRC – Grace Espresso. With everyone shaking from the second round of
doubles Yo Bike Chick, along with 2 time defending Beer Cx champ Senior Agua
Calinete, and C-Dubbs handled the sweep duties to ensure everyone made it back
to Casa de C-Dubbs for the post ride BBQ.
Now
throwing in the towel on the dirty centuries didn’t have all that much of an
impact on my desire to inflict maximum carnage on myself, only this year it was
on the road rather than trail. With two marquee events (Death Ride & D2R2)
coming in the next 6 weeks and a total implosion in the final miles of the Gran
Fondo, it was time to step up to the plate and swing for the fences – Big Indian Scalping.
For those not in the know this short video gives one a taste of what the day’s
event was really like (and it was so hard that even the Man O’Steel and El
Obamador passed on the final climb for early beers)
Big
Indian is a ride so brutal that on a good day might have enough riders to go to
your second hand to count them but in most cases if you finish you are assured
a podium place. This year was no different with me being the Wall St meat in a
Marine Corp sandwich – i.e. Man O’Steel and El O really put the hurt on me all
day long. The climbs (such as Glade Hill) offer up extended sections of 15+
degree pitches that made you want to trade places with this pig
The
highlight of the ride is the Big Indian climb, 13 up and 13 down, and the down
is really tasty.
Jacked on Bread Alone espresso the pain train revved up for
the reverse Peakamoose climb where I featured the rare double axel dismount at
the bottom of the final 20 degree pitch. I mean seriously, WTF am I doing to
myself? To add just that little extra hurt El O took us up Red Hill Road and
while I cursed him on the way up the way down was a flowing speedway where we
blew by a State Trooper and didn’t get a ticket. Game on for the Death Ride.
Death -
the cessation of all biological
functions that
sustain a living organism.
Death
Ride – transporting oneself by bicycle to finish where one started while
attempting to cause cessation of all bodily functions.
As much
as you don’t want to admit it, deep down we all have that primal desire to ride
the equivalent of a Grand Tour mountain stage. A quick flight to Lake Tahoe,
some nicely thinned out summit air (8700’+) and a taint hardened by miles of El
Obamador suffering and you are ready for California’s one and only Death Ride. After a 5:30am start, 5 mountain passes, beers with the Wild Women of
Ebbetts Pass (before and after the pass),
several elliptical and recumbent
bicycles later I must quote Top Chef “I finished and there is no reason to ever
do that again”.
Next it
was time for an exclusive Obamador D2R2 training camp only this time we were
going nuclear on the Nwodtaeb Niatnuom Raeb,
a mainly reverse course of the Bear Mountain Beatdown and with the newest NECS
member Paul U-235. This is a guy that rides down to NYC on a whim, does a few
laps of the Central Park and rides back home – all on a Cx bike with knobbies. Attempting
to mirror this with on 40mm tires and under 80 lbs of pressure was a bad
choice. By the time we pierced the Eruv and entered Kiryas Joel I had suffered
so much I was ready to trade in the spandex for a Torah and orthodox wife to
make it all end. Sadly the community wanted nothing to do with me and I was
banished to Bear Mountain State Park and with a small amount of goading I
stupidly agreed to a summit assault. 88 miles, 8500’ of climbing and it was on
the sofa with cold beers aplenty.
The move
from racing to riding culminated with the D2R2 where I set about keeping up
with El O and Turbo Boost, the newest and youngest member of the NECS (folding
during this ride was not an option, nothing would be worse than to take a
beating at the hands of a 14 year old). One of the fantastic things about D2R2
is the mix of old and new school riding attire/bikes. You have to tip your
helmet to these guys riding in wool sweaters, Nantucket reds and penny loafers
Add to
the mix no course markers and only the cue sheets you had made up (NOT!) and it
was going to be an interesting day on the bike. Was the climbing, hell yes,
probably 35-40 different hills with one hitting just over 40% grade on the GPS
– could barely walk up that sucker. Having spent a leisurely day touring the
backwoods of Massachusetts and Vermont we miss judged the time and had to cut
off the last climb to make it back before sunset as we were sans lights (and I
don’t think I would have wanted to try and find my way around the course in the
dark). Looks like I have some unfinished business and will be back next year.
With the
end of the summer tradition (read that to be partying) reigns supreme at the
NECS/MRC. Past seasons have seen the fall leaves giving way to the Chinaman 100
and the first potential snows blanketing the Beer Cross course. This year due
to musical commitments made while under the influence of numerous hoppy IPAs
our own Top Chef had to move the Chinaman to late September. Braveheart quickly
stepped in and established as an end of summer non race to
maximize on the sunlight for a long warm day of partying. Based on the success
of this year’s event you can miss your wedding or your child’s birth but you
don’t want to miss this extravaganza. A snapped derailleur, middle finger
outfit, taunting of the water balloon gauntlet and 40 minute run around the
course (how I didn’t puke my guts out after that is another story) my cycling
career was complete as I was knighted winner of Beer Cx by Sir Braveheart of Stone
Ridge.
The
Chinaman 100 closed out a season with the
initiation of a series of new members to the ranks – Remora (first class wheel
sucker), Dude (the MRC ambassador to surfing) and our favorite name – Stoned
Gibert
Along
with the new members Mrs Top Chef aka The Rose Queen, thrilled the crowds with
a first time participation in this fall classic. And a Top Chef event can only
be a Top Chef event when the post ride BBQ gets going, and as you can see from
this shot we feasted like kings!
Final
confirmation that my racing days are over came in the form of a government
shutdown. Willing to take one for the team (Team Seagal/Clouds of Jenkem), I
headed West for the Ozark fall classic – Burnin’ At The Bluff only thanks to the infants in
Washington the weekend turned into a fantastic sampling of the Ozark’s finest
singletrack. The highlights of the weekend were the sunset ride to the summit
of Johnson Mountain and a swim session in Council Bluff lake during the race.
So where
does all of this mean for 2014? Not much more then having fun on the bike,
riding with my amigos, the NECS/MRC non race series, D2R2 and of course Burnin
At The Bluff. If I don’t see you on the road/trails this year your not having
fun…..keep’em flying.
