Baby Gets a New Rattle

The first race is out of the way and the weather is finally turning to spring so it was time to get out on the trails with the usual suspects from the hood and do a bit of exploring and trail maintanence. The enthusiasim was high, the pace fast and the as luck will have it the motocross bikes had been in the woods providing us with miles of new twisty technical single track to explore.

Well you can imagine the surprise as I crested a roller and on the descent heard the sound of one of these......

which means in the middle of the trail is one of these........


and sadly it all happened so fast that I ran the guy over and put an end to his day which resulted in one of these for dinner.....

It's A Girl!!!!!

I am the proud father of a new daughter, Beth! She is a beautiful titanium 29er, a confirmed lefty and swings both ways.....geared or single speed with a beautiful set of Paragon sliders on her rear end. Her genes are 100% Independent Fabrication and she carries the colors of the IF Grassroots Team. Shortly she will be getting her first pair of shoes from Industry Nine with Vulpine's for soles. This girl will be ready for some long races and will have her coming out party at the Mohican 100.

Land of Pickups, NRA & Explosives

Notice a theme here? You can imagine how it gets when the moonshine is flowing!

Cohutta 100 - The Good, The Bad & The Muddy, IF Brings Home The Hardware

IF was well represented at the Cohutta 100 with riders featuring in the results in Men's overall (6th - Harlan), Women's (4th - Trish Stevenson) and Master's (3rd - Chris Wurster).

The previous day's recon ride of the course proved to be all for naught as Friday night brought showers and the Saturday morning start still had a cold mist in the air. Despite checking the conditions of the soil at the starting area for moisture and determining things would be similar to home, I came up with the wrong call in a big way. With a lot of insight from Harlan I was anticipating a fast course with good hard packed conditions and the opportunity to post a fast time.

Well if you ever watched My Cousin Vinny, there was no embellishing by the director in the scene where Joe Pesci sleeps in the Caddie only to be awakened by thunderstorms and mud that is like pudding on a linoleum floor. After the opening climb up Route 64 we turned onto the fast flowing single track section that would last for the next 15+ miles, only it was no longer a fast flowing pump track, now it was a survival course that felt like one was riding on ice. It didn't help that I had opted for Killer Bee 2.4s which when new have little tread, and this was a worn set, so it was a close to riding slicks as you can get. The result was that by the time we got out onto the fireroads I had ridden too hard, sliding everywhere, spinning the rear on every small climb and had failed to keep properly hydrated - this was going to be a long painful day if things didn't get better and fast!
Early into the fireroad riding I learned that most of my competition in Master's were behind me which provided a bit of an uplift and let me focus on settling into good pace for the duration of the road section. Shortly after 40 miles I came on fellow IF team rider, Patrick Jones, who was suffering from stomach issues and not having a good day. We decided that working together as teammates was going to be the most beneficial to both, would keep Pat going and keep me focused on maintaining a good pace position. We worked together over the next 40+ miles, alternating taking the lead and were able to pull out solid distances over the riders around us. At the last aide station, in a selfless act, Patrick urged me to go off on my own, as the stomach issues were upon him again, to secure my position in class.
The final pair of climbs took everything I had left. After 80+ miles on muddy, soft, freshly graded roads and being slightly dehydrated I began suffering from cramps and tightening hamstrings which slowed my pace and allowed a couple of riders to get by. The final insult came in the final mile when I lost all focus and caught the guardrail and went down hard on the only paved section of the course! Managed to get is all back together, get on the bike and bring it home in 3rd place in the Masters with a personal best of 9:20, shaving 1:17:00 off of my previous best 100 time and making the podium for IF - there wasn't a better feeling then climbing onto the box flying the colors of Team Green!

Just Another Friday Night in Ocoee

After spending the night near the Atlanta airport, Beth and I made the 2 hour drive into the three corners where Georgia, Tennessee and South Carolina all come together, and come together they do. Being from New York City, the air was so fresh that we couldn't get enough, despite the heavy doses of pine pollen in the air. And the mountain pines have a beautiful blue glow that make one really appreciate just why they are called the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Our cabin, right next door to Joe Jacoby's place, is at the end of a cul-de-sac and immediately we befriend the next door neighbor, Mike, engaging him in conversations about gardens, roto tillers, property taxes (non existent in this part of the country) and the possibility of hitting the local fish fry after the race.

From here it was off to the Cherokee National Forest and the Ocoee Whitewater Center for registration and a preride of the course. After coming all this distance as I set off on my ride I ended up riding with Mike Davies, another Masters competitor and a fellow rider from the Newburgh area. After chatting about the virtues of Stewart State Forest and the flowing singletrack we dropped into some of the most amazing riding with a flow so smooth and effortless that it felt like we were on a pump track. Things were looking good for the race, I felt good and the trail was nice and firm, fast and flowing.....this is going to be fun.

One final stroll of the neighborhood and we ran into Floyd rocking away on the front porch and spent a bit of time enjoying a beer or two and flagging down the locals to score some Tennessee White Lightning. Well along comes or neighbor Mike and by the time it was all over there it was at $8 a pint and able to run a small car engine on it's own. With that it was a pass and off to bed for a good rest before the race. 

Tennessee, Tennessee There Ain't No Place I'd Rather Be

At long last the endless season of indoor training is coming to a close and with bike in box I am off to the airport. First destination - Tara and the land of Scarlett O'Hara, for a quick overnight at the real life setting for Gone with the Wind.

Then it is off to the deep woods of Ocoee, Tennessee home of the Cohutta 100 - first leg of the NUE Series. The digs for the race look pretty good, the Joe Jacoby cottages. As luck would have it I happened to have scored the one cottage with an outdoor hot tub so the post race relaxation and cocktail party is all set. With Floyd and the gang staying just down the driveway we might luck out and get Rock Racing to send over their stable of groupies to really get the hot tub party going!

It does feel a bit strange to have a full range of gears to select from and I hope that after a couple of years of not having to consider which gear to select that I manage to get it right. And Harlan, thanks for the run down on the course, nothing worse then having to ride the first race of the season "blind" and with no vertical under the belt since October!

Nice Pair

What you are looking at is the sweetest set of wheels on the market - Industry Nine 29ers. The wizards from Asheville have taken their 6 pawl drive hub and lefty front hub, laced them up to a set of Stan's Arch rims (yes I am one of those heavy guys that shouldn't be on 355s) and made a set of wheels that would make even BC jealous.

I have only had the opportunity to fondle these babies while IF is putting the finishing touches to the Lefty Ti Deluxe that will be mated to these wheels. The drive train is silky smooth and the 6 pawl engagement mechanism has a sound that is music to the ears. All of this is topped off with one piece aluminum spokes that lower the rotational mass and add stiffness without a weight penalty.

Sadly they will not be making the trip to Cohutta but if all goes according to plan they will make their debut at the Mohican 100.

Rock of Love

Welcome to New York City - the concrete jungle. As you can see we don't even have real rocks in this city and the air, forget about it.

Five - O, Book'em Dan-O

At long last it has arrived, the big Five –O, the start of the second half of that great adventure called life! Some scientist’s theorize that for a male the 40s can be the most depressing decade in the cycle of life. If that is scientific fact then I can hardly wait for what is in store for me, the last 10 years have been a blast!

It really doesn’t seem any different today, the alarm seems early, and it is, going off at 5 a.m. so I can slip in a ride before work – no rest for the birthday boy. Nothing special on this one, nice tempo riding while my mind melts away listening to tunes on the Ipod and watching some teleamark ski porn.

The office is the office, nothing more and nothing less, which is just fine with me for today. I don't anticipate anything out of the ordinary but one never knows. Just sitting watching the clock going round and waiting for the end of the day.

Tonight Beth is having a dinner party with close friends and we plan on enjoying good food and lots of good wine. Thank both god and allah that when I wake up tomorrow it is only a few short hours until the weekend and I can kick back and watch movies, drink wine, eat a great dinner, drink more wine and pass out on the couch watching more movies.Hey it's the F-You 50s and I get to do whatever I want.

Wall Street Bonus Pools Fall on Sub Prime Sword

Another hard year with the nose to the corporate grindstone has come to a close and with it the time of year that, as adults, we all wait for with greater anticipation then Santa's arrival when we were little rug rats ........... bonus time!

For those that don't work in the financial markets this is the reward at the end of the rainbow for all of those long days, high stress levels, endless hours meeting client demands, deadlines and time away from riding. Of course along with this time of the year comes the stories of McMansions, private jets/yachts, ski chalets, trophy mistresses and of course the waiting lines at the local Ferrari dealership where people don't blink an eye at dropping a quarter million on the trophy car.

Over the last few years these buyers of luxury have been the wizards that figured out how to get anyone into a house cheap, then structure up an exotic collateralized loan with the junk mortgages and sell these off at a handsome profit. This year thanks to these masters of the universe, we are all feeling the pain - plummeting housing prices, loss of net worth and the fears of recession - and for some of those that pound it out in the trenches of Wall Street a pummeling of the annual bonus pools as firms have to put aside billions in reserves for current and future losses.

Well none of this was going to stop me from finally securing that trophy vehicle, so with bonus number in hand I raced off to the dealer to make the upgrade. Arriving early I was able to avoid the lines and decided it was time to trade in (aka give away) the trusty/rusty '91 Chevy pickup with 176k for that top end '97 Dodge (sans rust) with only a scant 123k on the odometer. Hey if I slap a prancing horse sticker on the sides of the fenders and play some Pavoratti maybe in my own mind I can convince myself it's a Ferrari (probably gets better mileage too). At least the glass is half full ......... I can haul the trash to the dump and carry my bike to the races, bet you can't do that with a 599GTB! 

Rock & Rollers/Trainer Slave

Second after second, minute after minute, hour after hour..... never ending miles streaming by in a mind numbing blur as the TV glows and the the stereo blares.

All week long, like a buddhist monk, I pray to the weather gods for a break (anything above 40F) that will allow me to venture outside into the fresh air and get some miles on the road. Until that time I am destined to serve out my sentence in the basement, 5 months of hard time on the trainer or rollers. 

Benign!!!!!

Nothing could sound better to hear then the doctor's words, "it's benign". That is just what I wanted and got to hear the other day. Cuts, bruises, aches, pains and soreness are feelings that we have all become used to from years of hard training and racing. But when the soreness stays and tissue starts to mass the concern factor rises dramatically.

Not one to fear going to the doctor I set off to see my physician, only to be instructed to head to NYU Cancer Center to get the complete run down. Being instructed to head to such a place doesn't exactly make you excited. Then you get there, wait a lot, see a doctor, wait a lot more, see another doctor, x-rays, probing, prodding, doctors consulting doctors and finally the only word I wanted to hear.....benign!

For now all looks good and it is back to work and training, all with a big smile on my face and a bit of a hangover from the celebration.

Looking Back/Looking Ahead

The end of the year is always a time to reflect on what has come to pass and what the future may hold.

The past - a great year of racing old school, keeping it rigid, single and simple. Not always the best results but regardless there is one thing that I always had....fun. The high point - Conquering the Klien Karoo of South Africa and putting IF in the record books as the first single speed to finish the Cape Epic, and that was only in March! The rest of the season was icing on the cake and I was able to approach each race with the aim of having a good time and, if the planets aligned, perhaps getting a good result as well. The low point - taking my first ever DNF at the Dark Horse 40, which is my home course and training ground - simply worn out.

The future - Break out the Centrum Silver, in just a scant 6 weeks I hit the big 5-0 and get to step up to the Masters Class. Sadly I will be saying goodbye to the single speed for the NUE Series, adding 26 extra gears and 3 inches per wheel and leveling the playing field with the other Masters. Once the series over it will be back to basics, single speed, and off to Mexico for my reward.....the Baja Epic where I will be racing for fun, not results, followed by 4 days on the beach and a lot of beer and mezcal.

Happy Holidays

The very best to all over the holidays and a Happy New Year

Rosendale Crossfest - Blame It On Rio

Okay, let's face reality - 6 days in Rio on business working up to 17 hours a day, eating a lot of meat and consuming more alcohol then recommended - all in the name of business - is not a recipe for success. Add to that an overnight flight and 2 days prepping and painting the second floor of the house and you can expect to get your ass kicked on the race course. So, bored of the usual training rides and having just taken delivery of a new IF Planet X, I set out to see what the whole Cyclocross scene is all about. What I discovered is that the format was designed by Richard Jarvic solely with the intention of having racers blow up their hearts so he could sell more of those fabulous mechanical devices. Needless to say I didn't have all that much fun, chalked it up as experience and will no doubt do it again. End of the race standing....sort of, it was more like slumped over the handle bars knowing how seals feel just as the great white is about to eat them!

Dark Horse 40 - Revenge of the Killer Bees

Simply put, at this stage in the season I was burnt out mentally and physically but being that this race is in my home court I wanted to come out in support the local bike shop sponsoring the race. In true sandbag fashion I rode to have fun and entered in the sport single speed class. For most of the first lap I swapped places with the lead single speed until I burped a tire and had to pull off on a fast section to make repairs. Due to the tight racing I had to stand and watch as countless riders went by before there was a space to pull back onto the course and get going again. A bit further along the course I rounded a bend to find a swarm of pissed off yellow jackets clouding the trail. Surviving the "ride of death" through the cloud I realized that it was time to pack it in and go home to a cooler full of beer and call it a season. Sadly after 4 seasons of racing I finally had to put a DNF in the books.

Wilderness 101

THE FRESH AIR FUND - The Wilderness 101 has a soft spot in my heart as it is the first mountain bike race I ever rode and for reasons unknown to me I use it as my annual fund raising ride. This year the charity of choice was the Fresh Air Fund. To help out I recruited 2 coworkers to come down and join the fun, one of them having never been on a mountain bike before. Once again the gods had turned up the heat and humidity for the race (conditions I detest) and it was shaping up to be no fun, that was until one of my mates got a bit bold on a descent, flatted and went over the bars into the deep weeds. Unhurt and unable to muster the knowledge to change a flat meant it was time to get going or bail out as I was feeling the effects of too much training and racing over the winter. Despite bending a rotor at 75 miles and having to remove the rear brake, I managed to come home 24th in single speed with a new PR and along with my coworkers raised over $7000 for the kids to go out and have fun in the country......all in all a successful race!

12 Hours of Round Top

It was time to change the game and give the race against the clock another shot. It had been several years since trying one and the time seemed right to give it a go. The weekend weather turned out to be down right cold for June with the evening temps dipping to the low 40s and start line temps not much higher.

The course was a mix of fire roads (30%) and fast single track (70%) that had a real nice flow. The only downside was the laps were just a shade over 5 miles so there was going to be a lot of them by the time it was over.

By the time the dust had settled it was a good enough effort for 3rd overall in the 45+ solo category and 1st in the single speed (a no brainer as no one else dared to make the effort).

Greenbrier Marathon

South of the Mason-Dixon line the definition of "fast flowing single track" is significantly different then up North. Down here it means sections of single track mixed with rock gardens, roots and mud.

Never-the-less it was an opportunity to go out and  get in a 4 hour race, have some fun and drink a few beers. Still feeling the effects of the Cape Epic I rode at a conservative pace, running most of the race in mid pack. My finishing position looked secure until a flat less then a half mile from the finish along with a terrible job at changing the tire let 5 riders get by. The result - a beer immediately upon crossing the line, 20th out of 35 and 3rd in single speed. Not what I was hoping for but  not a total loss either, at least I brought a suspension fork and made life a bit more plush!

Took My Beating And Enjoyed Every Minute Of It

The taste of the dust from the Klein Karoo might never leave my mouth (and for that matter I really don't want it to) and the feeling of crossing the finish line in Lourensford, as with a good wine, will only get better over time.
To say I had a great time is an understatement and will never do justice to the race and all of the work that went into it. I can not praise the organization and staff of the event enough for all of the hard work that went into making such a good time for all of us riders.
And of course over all the days of riding the friendships that arise are plentiful and helped us all get through the day. To the entire peleton I want to say thanks for all of the support (pulls on the flats, etc.) that you provided to the insane single speed team. Knowing that the pack was pulling for us to make the finish was one of the best motivators one could have as we struggled through some of the tough sections of the course.
Stephen and Jeff, I never did get to buy you that beer at the finish but thanks for the fun when I rode my "Harley" along side that beast of a bike called a tandem.
Jasper and Natalie, you guys are the best and make it a relaxing time after the races.

Unleash The Animal Within

Well the time is at hand. Shaun has purged his knees of the gnomes and it seems I have finally rid myself of the cretins that have taken up residence in my sinus cavities.
Finally after 2 weeks of being sick I am able to focus on the final days of training and realizing that the time is at hand, take the bike apart and pack it for the coming adventure. Given that I have made it this far I can only wonder what the odds are of the baggage handlers managing to reroute my bike to the likes of Mongolia where it will do neither myself nor the lucky recipient much good (imagine Genghis Khan and the hordes attacking on bikes)!
Of course there is the Mrs, truly in line for sainthood for having put up with the slow transition to SA time which sees me getting up at 1:30am so that I will be in sync when I get to the race. At least the white noise generator (read that to be the indoor trainer) lulls her back to sleep and we manage to get a couple of minutes together in the morning before I head to the office and another couple after I walk into the apartment and head right off to bed. All work and no play makes jack a dull boy (but hopefully enables him to ride the single speed to the end).
With visions of the race dancing through my head I can hardly wait to board the plane and get the adventure under way. I am sure by the fifth day I will be cursing the hardship and pain that the race holds in store. Somehow up to how I have managed to avoid thinking about this aspect of it.
Good luck to all and see you in Knysna. IF SINGLESPEEDS RULE!

War Of The Noses or Sinus Of The Times Part Deux

Turns out the nasty sinus infection has a bit of military training and must have spent countless hours practicing on the parade grounds. As one would expect with so much practice this infection is marching along, first left and now right....without missing a step. Now it is deeply imbedded into the right side of my face and leaves it pounding every time I so much as bend over.
Well the hell with the Geneva Convention, this is all out war and it's time to bring in the chemical weapons. A quick ride to the doctor and I am ready to launch the mother of all wars on this infection. Fully equipped with vials of antibiotics and decongestants I am off to subdue the lousy bastard that is haunting me. There is room for only one teammate at the start and number plate 23-1 is reserved for Mr. Shaun Weber, not this nasty yellow beast!

Sinus Of The Times or As The Nose Runs Blow It

First it's the never ending cold that has we staring at walls while I train all week and weekend. Then just as everything is coming together and the final couple of weeks of preparation/training/taper are all set to occur.....WHAM it is the mother of all viruses that has a firm grip on the blood cells and just won't let go. After a few sessions of sleeping with as much clothing on and blankets, I finally club the little bastard into submission and dispose of him in the washing machine with all of the sweaty clothes.
Guess again, now it's time for a visit from his long lost cousin.....Sinus Infection! The right side of my face is pounding and I am filling Kleenex with disgusting mixes of yellow mucus and blood! Isn't there a break for the weary, isn't it enough that I will be killing myself over the passes each day with only one gear to choose from (actually make that 2 gears, the other being my feet when the hill stands up and the pedals stop turning).
Stop the sniffles, the never ending nose blowing and the raw skin around my nose, yeah I am getting "color" in my face but it's not from the sun! Bring on race day and let the true pain begin.

Survivor of the Plague

Phew, it seems the worst might have passed and after several nights of cooking under the blankets and soaking several sets of sheets in sweat it seems the fever has finally broken (or is it I have finally broken the fever?). Either way after missing 5 days of training I was able to plop my arse back down on the bike (on an indoor trainer  as usual) and get a bit of a ride under my belt and let the legs know what lay in store. I am sure Shaun will be please as I will no longer have to request that he be allowed to tow me for the entire length of the course. Perhaps it is true......that does not kill me only makes me stronger!

Better Now Then Later

The Gods seem to have their own cruel idea of fun every once in a while and this is one of those occasions. About this time we are all in the final stages of oiling that well tuned machine called our bodies, hitting peak fitness just in time for the start a scant 3 weeks away.
Well leave it to the close working conditions of the office and the superior ventilation systems that are employed in the skyscrapers of Manhattan to breed just the proper environment for your friendly virus to make a visit to yours truly. And this is not the typical chest heaving cold but rather some nasty thing that has planned a stay of a 7 to 10 days, making it's presence know 24 hours a day and leaving your throat feeling like you are an unemployed fire swallower from the circus. Just walking to the loo takes all the strength in the world, how the hell am I going to climb 15,000 meters in 3 weeks!
To try and find the positives in all of this I guess you could say that had it hit 2 weeks from now I might have considered jumping out of the plane over the Atlantic to end the misery. Instead I get to watch the clock ticking down and the dust gathering on the bike as it sits idle against the wall. Perhaps this is all designed to make sure that I have not overtrained and am properly rested....who knows but time will tell.

Smashing Your Head Against A Wall Is Less Painful

The cold is never ending and the heat of the plains seems to far away. What did this weekend entail.......4 hours on the trainer Saturday followed by another 2 hours on Sunday. Yes if you see me at the start and I am randomly babbling sentences that make no sense you will now understand. As for my teammate Mr Shaun Weber, well he will be the one with the dog bites all over his calves and the vulture circling his head.

Global Warming?

The buzz word today is Global Warming......could be, most likely is (especially when I go out for a ride in January in New York and it is 70F) but then a couple of weeks later and the temps have swung around and the mercury is hovering at 6F and the wind chills are -10F.
Still I plod on with the training, in front of the tele grinding out the mind numbing miles on the trainer, my mind being entertained with visions of the Klein Karoo and the entire series of Jackass (wonder if all of this training qualifies me for the show).
Well what to do.......go south, like in heading to the Caribbean for a long weekend to start on the tan for the race and try to get used to the warm weather that lies ahead. Well Al Gore what the hell is going on? Drum roll please.......... and the weather in Turks and Caicos is a balmy 70F and with the windchill it is in the low 60s (brrrrrrrrrrr). The only thing to do is run to the bar and fill my belly with rum and hope for the best.
Could it be that the cool weather is to follow me? Come prepared for anything because the way this is going I wouldn't be surprised to see snow during this race and lions and giraffes hanging out together!

Loose Fillings/Bruised Ass or Real Men Ride Rigid

So the training conditions have been less then optimal over the past several weeks but that does not preclude me from thoughts of the journey ahead and what lay in store on the course from Kynsna to Lourensford.
Why one may ask would any sane individual (or team for that matter) even consider riding the Cape Epic 1) on a single speed and 2) on a full rigid bike?
Well as a pair of creaky middle aged men we constantly find ourselves reminiscing on the "good old times" of our youth and looking for ways to recapture these warm and fuzzy feelings. Thus we find ourselves staring off into the abyss dreaming of the glory days of the repack races down the slopes of Mt. Tam in California when the likes of Gary Fisher were bringing mountain biking out of it's infancy and into the main stream of cycling.
So to those that are the forefathers of our sport, our hats are off to you and to capture the retro feeling we will mount our steel or Ti horses in full rigid set up and attack the mountains and roads of South Africa.
To take in the action up close look for the riders sporting the Independent Fabrication or Shell V-Power team uniforms.

Icicles From My Nose

And just when you thought it couldn't get any colder.......weekend temps were hovering near 10F (-12C) with windchill at -17F (-27C), just what one would view as ideal training conditions. I actually contemplated going out for a ride but the previous days snow, followed by rain, then snow and finally plummeting temps left a wonderful layer of snow on top of ice. Visions of crashes and broken collarbones kept me in the house on the trainer for the riding but I did venture out to practice the hike a bike sections by wandering around in the woods climbing hills and following trails until the cold won out and I went inside for a warm 18 year old (Single Malt) and a nice hot shower. The next week doesn't seem to hold anything better so it should prove to be a mind numbing week of trainers and rollers!

The Big Chill

The start of the weekend saw temps that will rival South Africa in terms of the extremes. Friday I awoke to temps with windchill of -26 F so it was another day on the trainer. Saturday did not fair much better but by the time Sunday rolled around it was a blazing 5 C so the mountain bike came out of the garage and I was off for a 25 mile ride. The highlight of the day was the sections of frozen waterfalls and rivers along with the snow covered trails. All conditions that I am not so sure will be of much use at the race.
A warm shower and a cold beer and everything was back to normal.

C-Dubs Goes To South Africa

New York City (mid January) - Finally after a rather warm start to the year with temps touching 70F and a few great mtb rides it is back to the grind of the rollers and trainers in the apartment in the city.
Nothing quite like the beauty of riding along and hearing the sirens blaring and the lights flashing......and all of this at 5am while I am trying to get my ride in before work. The only thing driving this insanity is the idea of mounting my Independent Fabrication singlespeed and rolling up to the starting line in Kynsna and the visions of rolling across the finish line in Lourensford for that big glass of wine.
These days it is all consuming....get up early, ride, work, come home and sleep. I think I still have a wife but I am sure that she sometimes wonders if she has a husband that is sane!