Team Seagal R&D - Tire Education 101

Contrary to some opinions that the NECS merely a cesspool of jerkiness and mountain biking tomfoolery, our parent corporation, Team Seagal, has unleashed it's entire brain trust in a massive R&D program to educate the layman on just what choices one has in the rubber department - not this kind of rubber

but this kind of rubber.

Spearheading the effort is Nobel Prize winner and esteemed University of St. Louis tenured professor, Casey "Coach" Ryback. And here, for your reading and educational pleasure is Coach's master thesis - 

If you like to dork-out over some tire tech our Team Seagal test team (Scooter, Cockpunchor, Stove and Ttocs tested a shitload of tires over controlled conditions and rated them based on the results. I found some of the results very surprising, while some other results reinforced my already-held beliefs.

One not-very-surprising result that I noticed, was that the Crank Brothers tire with the cool anodization just fell apart and had to be warrantied after two test-runs.

The Campagnolo tire, regarded as the most beautiful tire, seemed to develop a better, more-supple, worn-in feel as the test went on - and it was also the only tire to have a user-replaceable bead and tread.

The Thomson Masterpiece tire showed absolutely no wear whatsoever, with the test-rider Friedrich noting that he expected that tire to outlast several wheels and frames.

The newcomer to the market, the Rivendell tire, a gumwall, was the only tire to actually utilize full steel-belting, despite weighing 13 pounds per tire. But as Grant Peterson said, "Steel is the only real material," and that only those racers on carbon race bikes need tires with cotton or nylon casings. The Rivendell tire was also the only tire to make it all the way to the "AR-15 rifle" stage of the puncture-resistance test, however the results are somewhat skewed as it is only available in a 650b size and therefore doesn't compare equally to the 700c size of the rest of the test tires. Mr. Peterson, in response to complaints about the extra weight of the steel belting, said he would consider producing a tires with a wool or even a tweed casing.

Cervelo's tire was unable to be tested, as it was delivered with severe cracking due to premature dry-rot, thus rendering it unsafe to ride.

The tire from Cannondale showcased a revolutionary and proprietary design that utilized a series of integrated needle bearings all around the tread, and actually surpassed all other tires in rolling resistance, however it only worked on Cannondale-branded rims, and the process to change the tire proved to be needlessly complex, requiring a proprietary tools and a Cannondale dealer to do the work.

Quintana Roo's tire seemed to provide better performance in wet conditions, specifically if those wet conditions were as a result of puddles of urine - so for the QR test, they set the test track up in the men's urine-trough at the nearby ballpark.

Neither the THM or Cipollini tires were able to be tested. We couldn't afford to get a hold of the THM tires for the test, and testers all agreed that they weren't cool enough to even get close to the Cipollini tires.

Freedom/Back In The Saddle

Finally at long last I am free from the tether from my arm to my heart. This past weekend the IV was pulled, I am well along on the road to recovery (but not done yet by any stretch of the imagination), and the MRC opened the riding season with our board of directors ride.
With Top Chef recovering from the waistline chinaman, Braveheart in deep on the Conceptual front and your truly finally beating down the nasty bacteria ravaging my body we celebrated with a leisurely tour of the Ashokan Reservoir, one of our favorite rides. Here are a few shots to start the year -

The annual Board of Directors meeting at Bread Alone

The traditional mid ride double espresso

Wiley E. Coyote taking a nap

Braveheart gives the hello salute

NECS/MRC Season Opener - Bear Mtn Beatdown

With the Cx Worlds out of the way it is time for the NECS/MRC season to commence. Normally we would open the Non Race series with Top Chef's premier event, the Chinaman 100k but with the post surgical recovery taking a bit longer then anticipated and C-Dubs inability to translate at this time, the event has been postponed until a warmer time of the year.
But that hasn't stopped El Obamador from his evil ways. Yes, Saturday 4/20 (please note the correctness of the date), the Bear Mountain Beatdown will roll. As you might recall from last year many of us were brought to our knees sobbing like a little kid that dropped his ice cream cone after all of the climbing was done. This year there will be even moar, some dirt roads (this this is the latest craze in non racing), and a special extra credit summit that rewards all that conquer with a Bear Mountain Ale from the Defiant Brewery (maybe this will get the Mayor to finally join).
A scant 6 weeks later on Memorial Day weekend Sunday will be the Gran Fondo, a kinder and gentle version that has no major climbs but a bunch of rollers and some choice back road riding. Keep reading for moar updates.

2012 – Looking Back At Looking Forward/C-Dubs Version Of War & Peace

Hello disciples, patrons, zealots, devotees and addicts of the NECS. I have had an amazing run (or should I say ride) for the past decade but the time has come, or more realistically forced on me, to call an end to any serious racing. Father time was more then generous to me as I rolled into the fuck you fifties but has extracted it’s payment over the past 2 years to such an extent that I have decided to gracefully slide into racing retirement. Fear not, the antics of the NECS will still be fodder for this site of superior attitude and superior state of mind, but for now it is time to take a stroll down mammary, err, memory lane, enjoy. 

Rewind the to summer of 2003 and at the suggestion of a good friend (one has to question that when you consider his proposal) I embarked on a devastatingly hard training program for the Wilderness 101. As naive as a virgin on prom night I foolishly thought a 10 mile ride up and down the Hudson River (nice and flat) was going to prepare me for 101 miles and 11,000' of climbing. Well 12:43:19 later, when it was all over, the pain and suffering was greater then this girl could imagine

and my MTB racing cherry had been popped.

Swore never to come back to the W101 after this shot

For whatever twisted reason my first visit to the dark reaches of the pain cave had me instantly hooked and like a crack addict I wanted more and I wanted right away and I needed the fix to be bigger, harder and even deeper into the dark regions of my frontal lobe. So what does one do - the obvious - a 24 hour solo where I put in 18+ hours for a 5th in age group.

Not as enthused with the lap format of 24 hours racing I spent the next 3 years cutting my times in the 101 and adding the end of summer thrashing at the Shenandoah 100 and it's 15,000' of climbing.

Yes the big climb is 20 miles long!

It was during this 4th season that I had an epiphany, if a one day race could bring so much pain and pleasure then a stage race would have to surely bring multitudes. And how does one go about getting into stage racing, again the obvious answer is with the race deemed the hardest mountain bike race in the world, La Ruta de los Conquistadores.
Now to fully comprehend the suffering use your imagination, 3 days, 28,000+ feet of climbing, multiple micro climates ranging from 90% humidity rain forests to muddy jungle logging roads with poisonous frogs, river crossings with crocodiles, hills so steep they were hard to walk up and miles of riding on the tracks of an active railway, and just to make it harder I opted to go 1x9 (not realizing where this would take me just a few months).

One of many hike-a-bikes on day 1

Yes, the mud is this bad in the jungle

This section made a one year appearance and took out 1/2 the field

12 miles of riding and hiking on an active rail line

Did I suffer, yes, the first day (55 miles/15,500') saw over 55% of the field eliminated by the time limit and yours truly knocking on death's door at the end of the stage, making the 12 hour cutoff my just over 30 minutes.

Yes it really hurt this much

And during the course of this sufferfest (and praise Allah that I finished so I wouldn't have to go back and take care of unfinished business) I saw a rider wearing the Cape Epic jersey and at that moment realized the Epic was to be my destiny. But first I had to recover from the damage of La Ruta that left me barely able to walk (and would change the course of my life).
Through the Cape Epic blog I found my riding partner from Cape Town, SA - Shaun Weber -

2 Days Down, 6 To Go

and we were granted a wild card entry into the 2007 event as the first singlespeed team (and fully rigid) to attempt this 8 day, 600 mile and 51,000 feet of climbing event. Adding some spice to the event, that year the course was to cross the Klein Karoo, the desert region of South Africa where temps were regularly over 40 Celsius (100-115 Fahrenheit). Independent Fabrication got word of this and shortly after I was on the team as their singlespeed ambassador at the event.
At registration word spread of what we were attempting and most riders chuckled and wrote us off as a side show folly with no chance of making the finish. Finishing the first stage in the top half of the field of 1200+ riders got every one's attention and soon the field was rooting for us, providing pacelines on the long transition sections of road and the SA press having a field day with regular interviews of our exploits making the regional television stations. I will never forget crossing that finish line and the taste of all the dust will remain on my palette like a glass of Petrus would to an oenophile.

Start of stage 1

Bombing off the Kamanassie

Prince Alfred's Pass - 14km climb

The first singlespeeds to ever finish the Cape Epic

By March my racing year was complete but that didn't stop me from another go at the Wilderness 101 and the Dark Horse 40 after which I called it a year and a great one at that.

2008 brought the dawn of a new era, my 50th birthday, 29er's, Master class racing and Team Seagal. 50 treated me really well with a 3rd at the Cohutta 100, 3rd at the Mohican 100 (and my not so ill fated meeting with Nico and Gino of Team Seagal who would play a role in shaping my future endeavors), 2nd at the W101 and 4th at the Shenandoah 100 for a forth overall in the NUE Series Masters. Having survived the financial meltdown the icing on the cake was a trip south of the border for the inaugural Baja Epic, 4 days of racing the desert of Baja and dodging Baja 1000 race vehicles on the course and drug cartels shooting whomever they wanted.

Baja Epic motivation

Cresting Tequila Hill

Mucho post race margaritas later

With a year like this the battle with the demons in my head looked to be coming to a close and the ventures into the depths of the pain cave looked to be behind me. That is until 2009 rolled around.

The plans were for a regular race schedule, 50 miler here a couple of dirty centuries there (of course the W101) and finishing the year off with a 4 man singlespeed team at the 24 Hours of Moab and an end of the year drunkfest made legitimate by calling it Beer Cross. It was after the Stoopid 50 that not all was well but I had no idea on just how serious things would become. At the end of the year a casual toss of a over aged piece of fruit dropped me to my knees with pain I had never known. Visits to various specialist revealed the horrible truth, my right hip was shot and I would eventually have to follow in the steps of Floyd Landis and have it either replaced or resurfaced.

Not to be deterred 2010 came with a lighter race schedule designed to preserve the hip to keep my streak at the W101 intact and a bit of fun as the MRC headed to Amsterdam for the Giro. For the first time I was going to race on the road doing the Tour of the Battenkill, America's version of Paris-Roubaix. The W101 went off without a hitch and with the pain at  tolerable levels I pushed surgery out another year and finished off the season with a class win in the 6 Hours of Cathedral Pines.

Remember that not so ill fated meeting I mentioned with Nico and Gino of Team Seagal, well I ventured to the Midwest for one of the infamous Team Seagal non races, MFXC, and partied/suffered my way through 40 miles of fantastic singletrack and new found riding friends. By this time the pain in my hip had become so bad that sleep was down to a couple of broken up hours a night and I was living on hydrocodone and any pain medicine my dear mother-in-law would give me. I managed to hold on and complete my 9th straight W101 and less then two weeks later I was on the operating table getting a hip resurfacing. Essentially my racing days were over, I was facing 6 months of recovery to get back into race shape and the fire that drove me all those past years just wasn't there. What I didn't know, and would only learn a year later was I had Lyme's disease.

All winter and spring I fought to find the motivation to train for my 10th straight W101 not knowing why I just didn't have it in me. A month prior to the race my condition was diagnosed and antibiotic treatment began. The drugs just didn't seem to be doing it and by the time the W101 came around I was having days were I could barely lift my arm the pain was so bad. Well Top Chef decided to join me for the race and we decided to make it an adventure/party race with no consideration for time, only the goal of finishing, which we did, crossing the finish line in a very altered state of mind from the consumption of too much Chinese food on the course. Soon after this my condition worsened to the point where I was living on oxycodone just to survive. All the years of endurance racing had strengthened my resolve and ability to withstand a lot of pain but this bacteria opened the door to the most inner sanctum of my pain cave and introduced me to a level of pain that had the potential to win. Of course this didn't stop me from one last hurrah and I ventured back to the Midwest for a go at Burnin' At The Bluff and a three day party with Team Seagal.

From there you all know the story, I am currently a junkie with a $50 a day habit, racing home from work each night for my antibiotic fix.

Look familiar Mr. Livewrong?

Now throughout all of these years there have been the friendships forged and the times spent that are so numerous that they, over time, meld into the everyday flow of life. To these I give my thanks to the Mayor, Raveinator, Top Chef, Braveheart and the rest of the Dark Horse riders.

So goes the story of the past decade of racing and leaves open the question - what really is in store for the future? Right now I a just attempting to keep in some kind of riding shape, unable to train due to all of the medications, have no races on the calendar (the first time in 10 years) and based on all that has happened to my health I am leaning toward the road to avoid the tics. Next up is the Tour of the California Alps Death Ride, a 130 mile road ride over 5 mountain passes in the Sierras. Then it is off to the D2R2 for a similar amount of riding over the most scenic dirt roads of Western Massachusetts and to close out the year a trip to Sedona/Flagstaff/Prescott for some fun riding and a visit with the "Doctor". Hope you enjoyed my novel and see you out on the roads and trails.

C-Dubs

Performance Enhancing?

Hell yes, a shot of this each day for the past 2 months and I am finally beginning to feel normal again. Sucks that I will once again miss Cxmas but at least I am riding again.

NECS Doping Program Revealed

There's a cold rush and a shiver runs through my body as the drugs are slowly infused into my bloodstream. Yes we here at the NECS, after reading the USADA instruction manual on running a "medical program" have embarked on our own doping regime.

The jerks down in St. Louis will recall my bizarre diet of massive amounts of Chinese food and a ration of 1beer per night due to the medication I was taking for advanced Lyme's. Well those drugs failed to do in the nasty virus that has holed up in my body so it was time to bring in the thermonuclear weaponry - Rocephin. I still can't drink any alcohol - that blows - but finally after 4 months of crippling pain the daily IV infusions might be making some headway. Stay tuned for developments and more stories of cycling adventure when I can get back on a bike.

Burnin' At The Bluff

Hello loyalistas, connoisseurs and rabid fans of the Team Seagal movement. With your esteemed author and blog Svengali, Crotch, away in the land of coconuts, grass skirts and Maui waui  enjoying the first sips of marital bliss, the task of capturing and relaying to one and all, the vivid ugly truths of this year’s Burnin’ at the Bluff has been passed on to a relative neophyte in the Seagal movement – Mr. C-Dubbs.  I will do my best to convey all that happened and leave it to you, the readers, to determine just where that blurry line of reality ended.

Following standard operating procedures, the wheels at Team Seagal HQ were put into motion long before the race with the plan to deploy an army of warriors who had been starved of meat and women for the better part of a month to ensure maximum carnage on the field. Among those signed up for the operation were defending SS team Nicwad, Leg Titty & Nadly with Sasha she-manning up once again for the full 12 hours of self inflicted pain, the Lawman shamuing once around the clock in the Clydesdale class, while Punchor of Cocks, Scooter and Gino Fellino smartly opted for the opportunity to ride all day and party all night in the 6 hour class. Winging in from the Eastern front I was in a bit of a scramble as Taggort and Schlomo Axel bailed and elected to race in the Sand in My Mangina Classic leaving me hanging like a big booger. Rather then wipe I did the only thing that made any sense (to me that is) and immediately signed up for 12 hours of self-abuse. It sure made a lot of sense – no riding for the past 6 weeks and little in the way of single track riding – maximum suffering. Thank Energor my moment of stupidity was saved by Mrs Titty and Stove who were going through a similar crisis as Josh “Mr Waffles” couldn’t decide if he should shit or get off the pot. A few calls of encouragement from Arm Baby and Toscani and the deal was sealed, Messy Marla and the Missouri Mountain Men would be racing for the rock star award.

 Thursday - Arriving in St. Louis I was warmly greeted by Senor Arm Baby who immediately set about having me translate my supply requirements before setting out to the largest Target I have ever seen where after wandering around in a daze we procured these politically correct taint wipes.

From there it was off to visit one of our esteemed sponsors, The Hub, for the usual supplies the airlines won’t let you carry on and of course one of those lovable little packages of Degree pit stick.

 Rolling in the Arm ‘Stro, stops were made at Casa de Titty to procure the necessary supplies to keep us going for the weekend, pickup the ex-Toscani/C-Dubbs St Louis based Kona Big Unit then heading to Nico’s digs for consultation on the impending weather and route to our destination – Mark Twain National Forest. Excited at the prospect of traversing the most dangerous highway in Missouri and witnessing the onslaught of Bathtub Mary’s that line the road providing safe passage I hid my disappointment at the safer Highway 55 passage but was rewarded with the sight of that beautiful blonde pedaling cars for Sparks  (link this blog http://sparkstireandauto.com/blog-2/) . If it hadn’t been for Jayson’s focus on getting to Council Bluff I might very well have had a new used car to go with my new used Big Unit.

Finally rolling into Council Bluff young Edward greeted us with the hammock city having been established (unlike previous years Campground C had been hijacked and we were stuck in the leper colony know as Campground D). Making the best of it the all important bike stand was centrally located and quickly put into action by our top mechanic while C-Dubbs and Nico went in search of wood in to fuel the eternal flame of Camp Seagal and serve up the infamous braquito.

A quick visit to drop off my own brats at Mt Kohler and it was off for the assault on Council Bluff summit, thankfully Nico had made sure I was properly set up with the right hydration system to get me there.

 Eddie showed his potential to become the next Ansel Adams with this beautiful shot of the view and this equally compelling portrait of C-Dubbs and Mr Titty. Soon after arriving back at base there was a scramble for shelter as thunderstorms swept the campground.

 Having survived the night Friday the house of Mt Kohler was pushed to it’s limit Saturday morning after a round of braquitos before we headed out to mark the course. The course offered up some spectacular views, and excellent social log at the top of the second climb and an offering from Energor in honor of Coach’s absence.

Having been so overwhelmed with view from last night we made the trip up the elevator to the bluff where Nico served up Coach summit style.

 A four hour social course marking/ride later we rolled into Camp to find most of the troops, PBR Dave and most importantly Mrs Titty. Unfortunately for Stove, arriving late has it’s drawbacks as Mrs T and I agreed he would get the first lap on race day. As should be expected when the sun went down the IPAs went down as well and the bonfire roared.

 Race day weather was akin to the turd in the punchbowl, rather then sunny and 70 it was cool and cloudy, staying warm in camp while Stove, Jayson and the crew were out working up a sweat on the trails was going to be hard work.

With smoke grenades and Sex Pistols screaming the battle was under way. Immediately I rolled up my sleeves, set about translating the day’s strategy, eating, generally fucking off and having a good time with Mrs T. Leg Titty rolled into camp with the Jerks holding onto a 20 second lead, Gino was manhandling the 6 hour race with Punchor, Scooter and the rest of the crew snapping a few wrists. Nico’s departure into battle meant Stove’s arrival at the camp and yet another jerk to party with until my first lap. Nico was in with close to a minute lead, Punchor was out after hitting the deck, registering a 7.2 on the Richter scale Lawman was crushing laps fueled goji berry brownies and Sasha was deep in the pain cave and not really liking life. Well, as the hands on the clock closed in on 9:00 Nadly, Nicwad and Arm Baby had snapped the wrists of all competition winning with almost a 5 minute lead. Gino was firmly ensconced in the PBR throne of champions with a 6 hour victory and Lawman bagged 2^nd in the Clydesdale division.

Such domination of the podium had the troops in full party mode with Scooter using moves only seen in the dojo as he danced up a storm. Perhaps it should have been referred to as a tornado and apparently the owner of the amazing boots was unimpressed with his dancing skills taking our beloved Scooter to the grass in a full naked choke hold.

The podium showers of PBR were soon replaced by the mother of a storms driving the troops back to base. Somehow Scooter managed to make it into the hammock only to find a swimming pool, showing superior attitude and super state of mind it was right to the Subaru Inn for a solid night of rest before the Sunday Cx race.

As for your author, well it was one tremendous time and I want to say thanks to Team Seagal for showing me yet another tremendous time. See you at Cxmas (one more time Gino)!

There's Something Burnin'

I can assure you that it is neither this

nor this

But it will include this

Sure just like Brett Favre, I have claimed to be retired only to come back to the starting line with a number plate on the bike. But unlike Brett, I have not been unleashing my paws on a busty ESPN correspondent

that trolls the locker rooms of the NFL looking for journalistic action.  No my paws will be all over the icy cold PBR tallboys that will be in plentiful supply at Bunrin’ At The Bluff, the 12 hour classic at the infamous Council Bluff.

Once again I am off to the sordid lands of St Louis, home to a number of interesting tidbits of information and of course Team Seagal where I will be looking to inflict maximum wrist snapping carnage, consume copious amounts of PBR, stuff my pie hole with the infamous braquito and translate as many of the ancient scriptures as one Nico Toscani can throw my direction. Stay tuned for more as C-Dubbs excellent adventure approaches.