I'm sitting in a shitty hotel at a convention in Char Latte, feeling juiced up on knowledg about concrete countertops, crappy convention food, beer, late night wings and more beer and just miss my bike and what it brings to my life. If you're reading this you are either another OCD bike fend, extremely bored or you have just entered into a beautiful relationship with me and want to know as much about me as you can find. Either way it's all good.
I'm sitting in the lobb]y and i think there's a quilting convention. Frick. Enough crap.
The Rowdy Dawg was a XXC race on a kick butt sliver of edible VA singletrak immersed in the mountains directly next to Blacksburg, VA. The race format that tickled my fancy was the XXC - a 39 mile race. I crave Mushin (pronounced Moo shin) and longer distances bring me to this beautiful state. The trail was a lollipop course with a ride up the stick, three laps around the lolli and a jaunt back down the stikc.
It was a typical race. At the start some fellows hauled ass, blew up and got passed. We had at least 3+ hours in the saddle and i had no intention of blowing the day on a silly start. I set my pace around 3rd-5th place and sat in the first hour. My buddy Jeremy was up ahead of me and I was unsure what kind of fitness he was carrying since he (Tabitha) just had another wonderful child. He's stomped me several times so I didn't discount his ability and assume anything. Ahead of Jeremy was his teammate Kevin (both from Vassago), one other unknown fellow and Matthew Lee from Bare Naked Cannondale. A few times in the first hour i reeled in the first three guys to get a feel for who was riding strong and gracful. Jeremy was pounding the trail in typical attack fashion, Kevin was just plain pumping it out on his SS and Matthew seemed to be in excellent form, fluid and quiet movement.
Jeremy dropped back after awhile and i would just catch a glimpse of Kevin and Matthew every few turns. Due to the opportunity to hang with Jeremy and drink beer the night before, my start was quite groggy. I figured the groggieness would dissipate after an hour or so but soon realized it was enjoying the race as much as me and it was in it for the long haul. Hesitantly, i accepted my racing partner (accompanied by his pals headache and poor balance) and decided good performance was going to hurt a little more than usual. A good friend of mine calls it "punishing his liver". I felt like the spokeperson for the club. I reeled up the remaining gumption in my dehydrated body and upped the pace ever so slightly. After a few miles I caught up to Kevin SS and passed him on some rocky uphill unkind to SS people. From there on out, i was alone with groggieness, the sound of my crappy Mavic hub body freaking out and the sound of my pounding head.
Evidently something is wrong with the freewheel meachanism because at 17mph or higher the drive body would hesitate to freewheel hence causing the gear cluster to match wheel speed and rotate my chain forward vs. my non pedaling front rings. The chain would slap at the tire making awful rubber vs. metal noises in addition to the foul noise emitting from the drive body. The only quick fix was to pedal the downhills, which is ok but sometimes a rest is nice. I figured it out and did what i had to.
This went on for the next few hours. I finally lost my phantom partners, groggieness, headache and poor balance. In turn I upped the pace again. Finally felt good. Just good, not grand. This is the point in a long race where unwanted race partners simply swap places. In creeped feelings of "damn, did i miss a turn" and "how close is the guy behind me"? I kept pushing it.
The trail offered excellent opportunity to hammer, recover and have fun. Some of the rock sections were tricky but never bad enough to not ride. I didn't clean every section every lap, but simply got off and walked when i didn't feel up to the mental challenge of navigating certain sections. Overall i cleaned the course with exception of one very rooted uphill section as you exited a creek, which i walked all three times. The outstanding sections of the trail included a great and beautiful climb up to a gravel road. The grade was conducive to my riding style (power it till your knees cry) so I always tried to win the race on that long climb.
I hit the hills hard, the flats harder and the downhills evenly. My strategy paid off. With 7 miles remaining, I came up on Matthew Lee. I figured he was feeling just as smooth as he seemed to earlier. I slowly caught up to him and stayed on his wheel for about a mile. We were testing each other to see what we each had in us. No problem with me, but I had to put on my poker face cause "crap" had decided to kick the butt of "damn, did i miss a turn" and "how close is the guy behind me"?. With "crap" as my new race partner, I decided to give my best poker bluff and pass Matthew and see what he had. Well, I suck at poker ((the card game)but i'm good at liquor). I passed and Matthew sat on my wheel like white on rice, which at this point i should have eaten instead of that third "just one more beer" beer.
My bluff lasted 1 long mile. That mile felt like the previous 34. I accepted my reality, sat up and Matthew passed in smooth controlled feeling good kind of style. I sat up, got in a decent pace and let the cards fall. I'd see him every few turns but just didn't have anything left. Matthew finished first we me trailing in with my tail between my legs 1 min and 10 seconds later for the silver. Not a bad day.
After the race I chatted with Matthew and learned that he's completed the Great Divide Race and the Colorado Trail Race. Impressive. I was pleased with my result.
Overall, i'd recommend the race, but not the amount of beer the night before.
Thanks to KENDA for allowing me to be a support rider. Nevegals rule!
I'm sitting in the lobb]y and i think there's a quilting convention. Frick. Enough crap.
The Rowdy Dawg was a XXC race on a kick butt sliver of edible VA singletrak immersed in the mountains directly next to Blacksburg, VA. The race format that tickled my fancy was the XXC - a 39 mile race. I crave Mushin (pronounced Moo shin) and longer distances bring me to this beautiful state. The trail was a lollipop course with a ride up the stick, three laps around the lolli and a jaunt back down the stikc.
It was a typical race. At the start some fellows hauled ass, blew up and got passed. We had at least 3+ hours in the saddle and i had no intention of blowing the day on a silly start. I set my pace around 3rd-5th place and sat in the first hour. My buddy Jeremy was up ahead of me and I was unsure what kind of fitness he was carrying since he (Tabitha) just had another wonderful child. He's stomped me several times so I didn't discount his ability and assume anything. Ahead of Jeremy was his teammate Kevin (both from Vassago), one other unknown fellow and Matthew Lee from Bare Naked Cannondale. A few times in the first hour i reeled in the first three guys to get a feel for who was riding strong and gracful. Jeremy was pounding the trail in typical attack fashion, Kevin was just plain pumping it out on his SS and Matthew seemed to be in excellent form, fluid and quiet movement.
Jeremy dropped back after awhile and i would just catch a glimpse of Kevin and Matthew every few turns. Due to the opportunity to hang with Jeremy and drink beer the night before, my start was quite groggy. I figured the groggieness would dissipate after an hour or so but soon realized it was enjoying the race as much as me and it was in it for the long haul. Hesitantly, i accepted my racing partner (accompanied by his pals headache and poor balance) and decided good performance was going to hurt a little more than usual. A good friend of mine calls it "punishing his liver". I felt like the spokeperson for the club. I reeled up the remaining gumption in my dehydrated body and upped the pace ever so slightly. After a few miles I caught up to Kevin SS and passed him on some rocky uphill unkind to SS people. From there on out, i was alone with groggieness, the sound of my crappy Mavic hub body freaking out and the sound of my pounding head.
Evidently something is wrong with the freewheel meachanism because at 17mph or higher the drive body would hesitate to freewheel hence causing the gear cluster to match wheel speed and rotate my chain forward vs. my non pedaling front rings. The chain would slap at the tire making awful rubber vs. metal noises in addition to the foul noise emitting from the drive body. The only quick fix was to pedal the downhills, which is ok but sometimes a rest is nice. I figured it out and did what i had to.
This went on for the next few hours. I finally lost my phantom partners, groggieness, headache and poor balance. In turn I upped the pace again. Finally felt good. Just good, not grand. This is the point in a long race where unwanted race partners simply swap places. In creeped feelings of "damn, did i miss a turn" and "how close is the guy behind me"? I kept pushing it.
The trail offered excellent opportunity to hammer, recover and have fun. Some of the rock sections were tricky but never bad enough to not ride. I didn't clean every section every lap, but simply got off and walked when i didn't feel up to the mental challenge of navigating certain sections. Overall i cleaned the course with exception of one very rooted uphill section as you exited a creek, which i walked all three times. The outstanding sections of the trail included a great and beautiful climb up to a gravel road. The grade was conducive to my riding style (power it till your knees cry) so I always tried to win the race on that long climb.
I hit the hills hard, the flats harder and the downhills evenly. My strategy paid off. With 7 miles remaining, I came up on Matthew Lee. I figured he was feeling just as smooth as he seemed to earlier. I slowly caught up to him and stayed on his wheel for about a mile. We were testing each other to see what we each had in us. No problem with me, but I had to put on my poker face cause "crap" had decided to kick the butt of "damn, did i miss a turn" and "how close is the guy behind me"?. With "crap" as my new race partner, I decided to give my best poker bluff and pass Matthew and see what he had. Well, I suck at poker ((the card game)but i'm good at liquor). I passed and Matthew sat on my wheel like white on rice, which at this point i should have eaten instead of that third "just one more beer" beer.
My bluff lasted 1 long mile. That mile felt like the previous 34. I accepted my reality, sat up and Matthew passed in smooth controlled feeling good kind of style. I sat up, got in a decent pace and let the cards fall. I'd see him every few turns but just didn't have anything left. Matthew finished first we me trailing in with my tail between my legs 1 min and 10 seconds later for the silver. Not a bad day.
After the race I chatted with Matthew and learned that he's completed the Great Divide Race and the Colorado Trail Race. Impressive. I was pleased with my result.
Overall, i'd recommend the race, but not the amount of beer the night before.
Thanks to KENDA for allowing me to be a support rider. Nevegals rule!
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