The short of it

As advertised, yesterday was the Millennium Mile up in Londonderry. Zencycle decided not to run for some reason. Duano could not make it either, as he had some pressing business to tend to. The Cronoman came, but he just spectated. Way Fast Whitey was the only other Team BOB member to compete. He even rode his bike through the rain and fog to get there and back home. Yikes. At least it was pretty warm, hence the fog from all the snow.

There were almost 600 runners. Shitloads of kids. The organizers make no attempts to keep them off the front of the pack either, and even seem to encourage it. It's a pretty dangerous situation really. Some of them are as young as two years old. There was a team of about fifty grade school kids in uniform who all lined up at the front. Of course, there are some hard core track runners too. The course is flat for a quarter mile, then starts going downhill, and loses over 100 feet by the 3/4 mile mark. Then the end is flat, with maybe even a hint of rise in one spot.

During warmup my calves were way tight. I think the Brooks trail runners that I've been trying have something to do with this. There was a running track out behind the school that was mostly snow free. I was having trouble doing two minute laps. My "strides" were pathetic. My original plan was to run next to Duano and then beat him in the sprint, since I can't even come close to that on the bike. But he was a no-show. I needed a new plan, and sure didn't feel like I'd be able to run fast. I headed back to the car and changed into shorts and my racing shoes. Instantly my calves felt better. It was almost start time.

I lined up in the third row. There was no national anthem this year. They fired a gun and we went. As usual, all the little kids, and about half the adults bolted from the line like the race was 100 meters. I can hit the first mile in around 5:45 in a "normal" 5k, and I was for sure running faster than that, yet I had about 200 people in front of me and more coming by. Then they all blow and put the flashers on. I was bobbing and weaving like OJ through the airport just trying not to trample someone. Pretty ridiculous. There was a big plywood sign for 1/4 mile but I was so busy elbowing and navigating that I could not take a split.

Last time I ran this, in 2008, my time was 4:51, and it HURT. Bad. This time, I felt awesome. I'm not sure why. I've worked a lot on my downhill running, as well as my turnover/cadence, and it's helped. The half mile sign came up suspiciously fast, a 2:19 split. That's a 4:38 pace and we're still flying downhill! Not only that, but now there's actually some clear road. But I have to wonder if the sign was in the proper location. My 3/4 mile split was 1:21. The end seemed brutally long but the clock said 4:54 as I passed it into the chute, another 1:20 split on my watch even though I'd hit the button well late of the line. Yet my official time was 4:58, 45th place, 7 seconds slower than last time.

I can't complain about that. I never do speedwork, instead preferring to just run hills. I'm thinking about finding a place to do mile repeats soon though. My legs weren't the best but I think my heart and lungs are in great form because this felt like a cruise to me. The winning masters time was 4:30. 28 seconds is an eternity at this distance, but I'm nonetheless encouraged because only five of the 44 runners ahead of me were my age or older. And I'm not a runner.

So that's it, the last race of 2009. There were less of them than I thought. Maybe I'll put up some year-end stats later this week. Thanks for reading.

The Long and the Short of it.

Solobreak sightings are at 0:09 and at 0:35, where there are still over fifty riders behind me. I must have been on the ground longer than I thought, 'cuz I found the back soon after...


Tomorrow is the shortest race of the year for me, the Millennium Mile in lovable Londonderry, NH. It's looking like we'll have a nice contingent of Team BOB misfits toeing the line at 2 pm for the mostly downhill sprint. I've done this once before, in 2008, making the line in 4:51. It hurt. The winner was sub-4. This year I've got no plans to even attempt to equal or better that mark. This time it's just an excuse to run out in the middle of the street and spend some pub time with my mates afterward.

The chief reason for this is that in just four short weeks, I'm signed up for what will (in all likelihood) be my longest running race of the year, the Boston Prep 16 Miler in the next town over from Londonderry. I did this one once before too, also in 2008, running 1:51:17 or something like that in a raging snowstorm. To this day, that is the furthest I've ever run in my life, with probably close to 18 miles on the day since at this race you have to park a mile away from the start. I can't predict how that one will go yet, but I'm hoping for reasonable weather with better footing than last time. I'm looking forward to throwing down against the Ironmatron as well as possibly Feltslave. Maybe even zencycle? GCD? You owe us an update too BTW. The race closes at 800, and they have a startlist posted online, currently with 515 registrants. Don't let that fool you though, as mail-ins are not on that list so the race is closer to closing out than it appears. The weather is a crapshoot, but the entry is only $40 and you get a real technical base layer, much better than a t-shirt, and the post race food is good.

Since the Norwood Turkey Trot 4 miler back in November, my running focus has been on building endurance only. Translation: I'm going out and running slow, mostly on the trails, concerned only with staying out there a bit longer than the time before that. In California I bagged a few runs of over 90 minutes, with hills. Then at nats I kinda banged my knees up a little bit while hurling my tired old body down onto the ice. That was setback number one, and the snowstorm last week was number two. Prior to the snow though, I did get out on Saturday for 12 miles or so in Borderland. That's flat, so I tried to make it tempo and my legs were pretty sore this week. Wednesday found me on a treadmill for the first time in over a year -- well that sucked. On to Christmas. With all my holiday obligations taken care of on the eve, I was free to find some low-traffic industrial byways for a good run on Friday. I hit Blue Hills, and ran some big hilly loops on Royall Street, Green Street, and the Reebok campus, with a detour up and down the access road at around the hour mark (btw, the road was cleared and salted, and would even have been safe on a road bike except for two patches near the top where the snowguns from the ski area coat the pavement with overspray). Total mileage was around 14-14.5 in exactly two hours. That's a lot for me, hence my low hopes for a fast mile tomorrow. My only goal is to beat Duano...

So now I need a training plan for the rest of January. I am not a fan of running in the street to begin with, but the woods are in no shape for trailwork right now (except for snowshoes). Forget the treadmill; I think a 35 minute "better than nothing" run is about my limit there. That might suffice for mid-week. So my best bet looks like finding races on the weekends, and praying for a January thaw. And I have to hope the bash damage on my knee is only that. Thanks for reading.

Adam's Ave CX Race Report

Photo by Dan Gindling

I'm out of order here; this one happened the weekend before nationals. The event took place at Balboa Park, home of the San Diego Velodrome. This was SCPS #14 but with a non-series race the same day, as well as the distance from LA, the turnout was expected to be somewhat lower than at Glendale. Overall though, the promoters were pleasantly surprised, as they got so many entrants they ran out of numbers. In the 45+ though, we had just 14 starters, but with some quality riders nonetheless.

The course was FAST. Kind of a throwback to the 90's with cheesy single barriers, but I was loving it because it was power, power, power. The nickname of this race is Balboa Roubaix because a large section of the course traverses a barren dirt lot where the surface is mostly embedded rocks. Not too many of the kind that stick up and give you pinch flats, just stuff like you see in the linked photos. After a circuit of the vacant lot, the course led up and down through some varied trails among scrub brush, then around the back of the velodrome. A short ride/runup led to some grass around tennis courts. It had been heavily watered, so there was even a little mud! A course tape "pinwheel" preceded a fast off-camber around the tennis courts before a short hill and barrier section led back to the fast open power section. On the last lap only, we were diverted into the velodrome for a 1.5 lap finish. I think it's a concrete 250 of around 28 degrees banking, similar to Encino.

At the start I fell into the conga line about halfway back to see how things shook out. At first I thought it was all together but as soon as we got through all the chicanes and hit the open area it became evident that the top three had already opened a huge gap on the rest of us. The lot sits high on a hill overlooking the city and ocean, and it was windy. This was also the coldest day San Diego had seen in a long time. The locals were shivering in the 55 degree temps. Honestly, with the wind, when the sun went behind the clouds it really was a little chilly. I saw more than a few down parkas. I'm not kidding.

Feeling strong, I drilled it away from the group and was closing the gap on the lead three. One of them was jumping away from the other two, who appeared to be in a very negative drafting match, probably the reason that I *almost* was able to close the gap before the twisties. I burned a half match, maybe more, but three minutes into a 45 minute race I felt it wise to hold back something. That was probably a mistake. Losing sight of the lead trio, and with only one pre-ride lap, I overshot a few corners and even went off-course once, as it could have been taped off a bit better than it was. Like I said, small race, bit of a throwback.

As it was two riders were able to bridge up to me from behind, and I never saw the lead three again. Instead, I became entangled in a battle with the other two. One guy was on a mountain bike. You still see this in SoCal, and there are even riders in the elite races who run CX bikes with flat bars. Some of them are quite fast too. In the "pinwheel" the course tape was blowing all over the place. It was staked out wide, and I tried to use the entire width to late-apex the inner stake and get good exit speed. But the combination of blowing tape and my blurry vision conspired to have me totally botch it, and I cut across two stakes early, riding myself straight into the tape while the other two cut behind me, bewildered. Now I was playing catch up. I told you I got myself entangled in a battle...

Luckily the MTB guy was sitting on the other guy, and I was stronger than both of them. I bridged up on the windy section, then sat on to recover before going around as soon as we hit the twisties. Going into the ride/runup, the first guy passes me, and then the MTB guy tries to, but I shut him down. He starts growling at me, saying "you'd better not be getting off" and I'm like "you bet your ass I am." I mean fuck, it's a cross race. The thing was rideable I guess, but I hadn't had time to scout the lines. And I think running was just as fast. It sure was for me that lap, as I totally nailed it, passed the first guy on the remount and sprinted away, distancing myself from both of them. The rest of the race would be a solo TT, no drama on the velodrome, and I ended up fourth.

A week of training and no work had left me feeling pretty spry, and in SoCal a second race is only $5, so I signed on for the 3/4 event an hour later. There were about 40 starters, I think. This time I lined up second row as series leaders got callups. My recently acquired course knowledge would help, so I was more aggressive on the start, even though it was kind of a clusterphuck with a log barrier about 100m into it, and a larger pack this time. Onto the power section I was feeling very fit, all opened up, really better than I have all cross season. I'm still not the best starter, but I picked off a rider here and there and moved into the top 10. My dismounts and barrier running were better than they've been all year too. One of my main fitness goals this entire season was to improve my overall athleticism and I think I succeeded. I'm doing much better at actually "leaping" when I approach the barriers, confident that my jump off will produce the needed air time, and I'm smoother on the remounts. At least I was out in SoCal anyway; I wasn't losing ground on the barriers, and may have even been gaining some.

The race developed into a three or four way battle with those near me, with others still in sight ahead, so things were looking up. Having a full race on this course behind me, I'd been hitting the lines perfectly, especially the pinwheel... Until of course, I repeated the exact same mistake as in the first race, lost my bearings in the blowing tape, and rode right into it. Three guys got by this time. But like I said, my lungs felt big and open, my legs felt awesome; I owned these guys, so I charged back after them, faster than I'd gone all day. Flying into the off-camber turn around the corner of the tennis courts, I buried the inside pedal into the turf, high-siding myself violently down the slope. Ouch. Wasn't planning on that. One more guy got by. A bit shaken, I got up, quickly rode it off and started to try to charge back yet again. My adrenaline was kicking in and I was thinking "you can still salvage this, nats is next week, don't save anything, GO!" This is not my normal modus operandi, but like I keep saying, I felt great and think I was hitting a nice peak fitness-wise at just the right time.

Remounting over the big log jump, I powered off into the wide-open vacant lot autobahn. But then I felt a "pop" and suddenly my front wheel is rubbing the brakes with every revolution. Weird as I did not feel it immediately after the crash, but it did not seem bad enough to be a broken spoke either. I probably should have stopped to check it out, but I'm totally fired up, remember? My thought pattern was like "fuck it, I don't care how much the brakes are rubbing, I'm killing this!" so I shifted up two gears and kept drilling it... for about a half lap. Then BOOM goes the tire. Game over. At least I got another twenty minutes or so at threshold for my $5. Not sure exactly what happened, but the Bontrager tire/rim combination is not the tightest fit, so I probably broke the bead or "rolled" the clicher a little bit in the crash. Or just damaged the tire. Not sure why the delayed reaction, or maybe I just didn't notice it when I first got going again. I was bummed though, as this race had a decent field and for sure I was not finished moving up through it. Oh well. If you're keeping score, that makes three mishaps in the eight days I'd owned this bike, and we weren't even on the way to nats yet. Thanks for reading.

CX course idea

This was a bright idea I had. At first I was going to just email this to Reuter, but soon realized that wasn't good enough. Instead I'm posting it to here, so you're like my copyright attorney who works pro bono. At least the makes you PRO. Can you tell I've been reading Thom's blog?

So here is the idea: Combine the "berm" and the "pinwheel." It will be awesome, and only require about an acre of land, two bulldozers, a power tamper, and a week of time to complete. Imagine a bermed pinwheel, perhaps even with some whoops and jumps thrown in to it someplace, circling three or four times before terminating in the mother of all bermed hairpins and then heading back out the other way, also bermed of course. It would have multi-colored plastic-wrap solid barriers on each side (just in case someone was so awesome they overshot the berm), of course different colors on the left and right. To mark the center, we'd have either a giant flagpole with the lion of Flanders on it, or perhaps some sort of Olympic Torch thing, which we could light with a flaming arrow before the Cat 4 race. Better yet, a burning Fiero on top of a giant pedestal. This would be much cooler than some lame three story flyover, which are way overrated and really no better than riding over the troll bridge at King's Castleland or some miniature golf course. Thanks for reading.

I wasn't kidding...

...about the Paul Bunyan statue. Thanks for reading.

Hasyun Wool Promo

Since it's all of six fucking degrees outside this morning, today's as good a time as any to pimp the stylin' wool base layers being sold by our pal Murat over on his retail sideline site weebike.com. Many of you are aware that I'm known to extol the virtues of Ibex wool clothing here, and the truth is that stuff, specifically their wool shorts and knickers, has changed my life. OK, the way I approach life in winter anyway. No more restrictive layers; in this stuff I can stay warm without being mummified by layers of so-called "thermal lycra" or what have you. The Ibex leg and arm warmer accessories are equally awesome for the extremities, as is their headgear for your noggin. But what about my torso?

Enter Murat and his Hasyun wool base layers. Sure, Ibex sells a line of wool base garments too, and the truth be told, they're slightly nicer in feel and trim than the Hasyun stuff. But compare $60 for an Ibex woolies T with the $25 for a similar item from weebike. I like super-nice quality clothing as much as the next person, but we're talking base layers here. Sure, the Ibex stuff is so nice that you could probably wear it out in public when it's brand new, if that's your thing. But under your jersey or jacket on a ride in 28 degree temps? You'll never know the difference. The real beauty of wool though, is for the in between temp rides, the ones that start out in the 40s but end up pushing 60 or better. Here is where wool blows away other base layer fabrics, as it will keep you warm, even when wet, without smothering you when things heat up. I wore wool almost every day on my recent west coast trip, and it was absolutely perfect for the days when it was 55 and windy on the PCH, but pushing 80 as soon as I turned off and started climbing up a canyon road in the sun. No need to put on a wind jacket when bombing back down, comfy as can be all the way out and back.

Cons? All wool picks up serious lint in the wash, so you have to keep it separate from unlike colors if you care what it looks like. You also don't want to put it in the dryer. And definitely keep it away from your cycling shit with velcro, as that stuff will rip it apart in the wash if you're not careful. What about the itch factor? Well honestly, with Ibex stuff, for me that doesn't exist. As noted earlier, the Haysun fabric is not quite as soft, but I can wear it next to my skin no problem, and forget about it two minutes after I put it on. If you're really sensitive, it's still a good product to wear over a thin poly underbase on cold days. The only other issue with the Haysun is that when new they have an overbearing mothball odor and you're going to need to wash it out once or twice before use. Good luck, stay warm, thanks for reading.

Nats Photos

Your hero. Notice there are no riders behind me. This was the section added on Friday in an attempt to increase lap times. Must be the first lap because...


By lap two I was exiting the course at this same point.


The Champion shows how it's done. In these conditions, being the strongest was not enough. Jonny was the best rider in every respect, period.


With our time in scenic Bend dwindling, we hit the beer tent for a few before making the dash across town to the Cumberland House for a cyclo-blogger summit meeting with Gewilli and G-Ride. These guys all had to race the next day too... Curtis took the serious racer approach, laying off the sauce and opting instead to take an ice bath.


Gewilli gets some last-minute advice from Nega-Coach. Thanks for reading.

Nats Report

I'll keep it brief. In fact, I'm just pasting in an email I sent to one of my mates. Will try to put up a few pictures later. Thanks for reading.

6000 miles of flying, 2000 miles of driving, 14 minutes of racing...

Started 65th out of maybe 110 or so. Bottleneck did not go well for me, but I thought that I was riding well and moving up, but crashed hard on the ice about 1/3 of a lap into it. Got up, gears skipping, not sure why but all the big ones still worked. Was WAAAAAAAY back there by now. Moved up strongly but some tool knocked me over and him and another guy got by. Reeled them in, but the second guy dumped it right in front of me, on one of the only parts of the course where they had cleared the snow. I went right over him. Right shifter/brake (SRAM) was broken completely off. Tried to ride as a one speed, which was working well. Trying to ride on an ice course with just a front brake? Not so well. Dumped it again hard and called it a day...

Bought Jonny Bold a beer before he even got his stars and stripes jersey pulled on.

Drove 1000 miles straight back to LA yesterday, snow, sleet, freezing rain, fog, rain, you name it. Mountain passes closed, tire chains, etc. Got in at 12:15. Slept 4 hours and caught a flight home Sunday.

2009 season now over.

Getting Malled in Bend

This place is fucked up. Yeah, sure, if you approach it from the east, there is a really cool looking backdrop of volcanos/mountains. But the rest of it is strip malls and tract housing. The race venue? It's at an outlet mall. Seriously, I am not shitting you. They shoehorned a tiny course onto a vacant lot out behind the mall. It's covered in snow, even though it hasn't snowed here for about four days. No surprise really, they don't even plow the roads here. The cars pack it all down to ice. It appears that the road crews throw a little dirt or volcanic dust onto the intersections if they get a chance, but that's about it. Everyone has four studded tires on their car. Mostly American cars too.

I don't watch a lot of movies, but I saw "Fargo" and this place reminds me of that. On the 140 mile drive up here from Klamath Falls this morning, there was virtually nothing but an endless forest of Christmas trees the entire way, except for one or two little outpost towns. One of them even had a giant statue of a Paul Bunyan dude. Then you come to Bend, like for some reason someone plopped this little city in the middle of the forest. We got lost trying to find the venue, so we got the tour of the city, which was a big retail maze. Not what I expected at all. There are some rich looking people, some REALLY poor looking people, and a shitload of people who look like they spent a lot of time in Weed. The do like coffee around here. In the parking lots/strip malls surrounding our motel, there are not one, but two drive through barista huts. And there is a Starbucks across the street, and another one across the other street from that. No I am not shitting you. This place is fucked up.

It's fucking cold too. And since they don't plow the roads, the shoulders are completely covered with ice (hell, the center lanes are 50% covered in ice). So much for Oregon being bike friendly. On to the course. Did the open course practice today. It would be a five minute lap if it weren't covered in rutted ice. As it is, there is one 12" wide strip that's moderately rideable. At least it was at noon. Word is that by 3:30 for the 40+ "B" race, the thing was a rutted hockey rink. What time is my race tomorrow? Oh yeah, 3:30.

On about 20% of the course, they cleared the snow off before 1000 yahoos got a chance to pack and rut it up. That part is pretty cool, fast. The rest of it there is no chance whatsoever to put any power down. I'm getting sick too, so I won't have much power anyway, but crashing repeatedly on ice isn't high on my to do list either. Since we have to blow town early Saturday in order for me to get back to La - La land and make my flight home Sunday, I'm a wee bit short on nats party time. So maybe I'll just get drunk before my race tomorrow. Trust me, it won't hurt. Thanks for reading.

Boots on the Ground in Oregon

But still 140 miles to Bend. 705 miles in under 11 hours to get here. Pretty much a cakewalk, straight through from Ventura County to Klamath Falls. Rt 5 was closed for ice just an hour north of LA yesterday, but we lucked out and blew right through everything today. No weather the rest of the way, gorgeous views of Mount Shasta from Weed CA. Crossed another 5000 foot pass on the way up Rt 97. Finally saw snow and ice at the Oregon border. It's in the teens here now.



So in the past four days I've been the entire length of California, from Balboa Park in San Diego all the way out the top to here. Here's hoping the drive home is just as easy. The roads will be way hairy if it snows or ices. Everyone has studs on all four wheels here. Except us that is... Thanks for reading.

The Adventures of Dusty Hardpack

Since we left off, I've picked up a new Fisher Presidio CX bike, ridden it halfway up a small mountain, raced it in the Southern California Prestige Series #13 at Glendale, gone on a hilly 11 mile trail run, tore the derailleur off the new bike, mangling the dropout almost beyond recognition, blacksmithed the thing back into service, got held up on the road for the filming of an Audi commercial, and ridden a four hour ride in where everyone else had a dualie. Other than that, things have been pretty relaxing, with sunny skies, temps in the 70's, a few cold beers, and burritos stuffed with all sorts of fresh stuff from the ground.

The Bike

Fits fine, rides nice. My first time on SRAM. Took about ten minutes to get used to it. From the drops, it's better than STI, at least on upshifts. From the hoods it's about the same or slightly better for upshifts, but I'd take STI for downshifting. The jury is still out on the shape of the hoods, but the setup is working fine for me here. This bike has some form or Avid brakes. They can actually slow the bike down, and even stop it; this is a big change from my old bike with froglegs, which are merely decorative. Of course, it's dry as a bone here, so YMMV, as will mine when the going gets muddy. But for now I'm Dusty. The same might be said for the tires. The Bontrager Jones clinchers hook up quite nicely on the cement-like baked clay that makes up much of the tundra out here. They are good in the loose dust/sand too. On the road, well, they are CX tires, but I'm surviving. All in all, the new bike fit right in and I haven't thought about it much, which is a good thing. Except for one or two little issues.

Glendale - Solo goes Valley Boy

Home of like, the Galleria. Yes, THE Galleria. And Stop in the Name of Love, there is Atlantic Records. This race was well attended, with a few hundred riders, and held in a big park. Upon arriving we parked in a swank hillside neighborhood and jumped on the course for a quick pre-ride. The layout was similar to life back east, course tape and some tight 180s. The surface was... dusty hardpack. And some mulchy shit. Someone left a course stake in it, which found my front spokes, and over the bars I went. I was wearing my good glasses too, as I needed to be able to see to register. They escaped unscathed while I launched a verbal tirade on everyone nearby. The volunteers sheepishly apologized and cleared out the offending debris, at least some of it. You see, since they don't have mud or snow or any "real" cross stuff out here, they make do by running the courses through ankle deep mulch. Welcome to Socal.

After some more twists and turns the course went up a steep incline of packed dirt. Most people were running, but you could make it if you carried enough speed and pedaled like a bastard. That lead down a fast trail, through a sandy chicane, and then a downward plunge with a 180 at the bottom into some homemade stairs, just like Providence. A fast downhill remount led to another 180 plunge, and then a long, fast, flat power section with several high speed sweepers. Some tighter stuff led onto the pavement, up over a curb, through some more grass power sections and 180s before going back onto the pavement and the start/finish, which was only 40 meters or so past the last corner. One thing they do a lot better than us though is the curb hops. These were robust concrete curbs, and there was one at the end of the long front straightaway, which would also be the start holeshot. But it was fine because they lined the transition with plastic sandbags. These worked much better than the loose lumber they use in New England. Even if you totally botched the curb hop you'd be OK. Most people barely slowed down.

Registration was a cluster. Welcome back to 1992. I guess we have it good in New England. The race had a nice expo though. We warmed up on the maze of cul de sacs nearby. There are many more classes here and most races have several groups on the course at the same time. They have not one, not two, but three classes of singlespeeds. Paul did the Cat 3/4 singles, and I did not know this, so I missed him. Then they had a masters and a 1/2/3 SS as well. And all were well attended. My race had 25 guys starting in the 45+. About an equal number of 55+ started behind them, and then the 3/4 and master women, all on the course at the same time. It was around an eight minute lap and the officials were scoring without the help of a camera...

The top four were seeded on the front row. I was second row, but as usual botched the clip in and went backward on the pavement, but only a few spots. Over the curb and on the grass I got chopped, but then held on. There was a long grass section leading to a tight 180, and then another wide power section on grass. Here I turned it on and moved up about six spots all at once before jumping a few more sandbagged curbs and heading into the tighter stuff. I was a little shaky in a few spots on the first lap but mostly held my spot or moved up. After a lap I had the course dialed in better. Each lap on the longer straights I caught a wheel to follow before going around. One guy kept attacking me hard and then when we got near the narrow part he started complaining that I should work with him. So I went around and never saw him again...

With one to go a guy came by me from behind so fast that for a second I thought I was being lapped or something. I didn't know where he came from, and he opened up five or ten seconds on me before I rallied to get back to his wheel, just before a steep little clay hill. I'd been riding it every lap, but he dismounted and I went by at the top as he got back on. I attacked hard, slid through the sandy chicane, diving down to the 180 into the stairs. At the top of the stairs was a hardpack remount with severe off camber. If you jumped on the seat too hard, you'd slide the back wheel down the off camber. So I tried to smoothly slip on, but... The new bike came with a Bontrager Race saddle, the newer style with sort of a split rear end that has two prominent points sticking out the back... which I managed to get my skinsuit stuck on, wedgie style. Careening down the off camber, and way up the opposite banking, still unclipped, legs askew, I frantically tried to unhitch myself before the next steep plunge over a mulchy, rooted cliff with a tight turn at the bottom. My opponent hesitated for a second, probably fearing that I was going to crash and take him with me, before sneaking by and dropping onto the downhill. By then I recovered and got right on his wheel, feeling pretty confident on the fast sweepers leading toward the last few 180s and the sprint. But by now we were in some lap traffic (3/4 women and 55+ men share the course with the 45+ out here). I probably should have stuffed the guy in the final 180 that was on grass, but instead I sat on until we hit the pavement, which was much too short for me to come around. So he beat me, and I ended up 8th/24 starters, around 2:00 down on the winner. 5th and 6th turned out to be within ten seconds ahead of us. Oh well. I passed on doing a second race, even though it was only $5. Probably should have done it but my throat was parched from the heat and dust and I figured that leaving for home in one piece was a good option anyway.

S.O.L.obreak

A few days later, on Wednesday, we headed across town to a park for cross practice with big shots Mark Noble and his son Chance. Mission Oaks park's terrain is very similar to the Glendale course, with steep clay climbs and some mulchy stuff. The Nobles alternate between easy trips around the entire park, and "hot laps" on a shorter circuit. After about three of each it was getting dark, and Mark flatted, ending his night. Chance started one more hot lap and I decided to join. Of course he was light years ahead of me after only a minute. At the end of my lap, I attacked the last mulchy runup by trying to ride as far as possible before dismounting. Sprinting, I cringed as the pedals locked up and the sounds of crunching metal rang through the air. Right away I knew this wasn't good. The chain must have inhaled a big stick or piece of wood. The back wheel fell right out. The derailleur was sticking straight up into the sky, and the right side axle hanger was ripped wide open. Things did not look good for the rest of your hero's trip.

After swearing and pissing and moaning for a few minutes, we packed up and headed straight to TBOV. Marty and I got right to work, failing to take a picture of the carnage. Armed with dropout aligners, a giant crescent wrench, a Park hanger tool, a dummy axle, and several hammers, we somehow managed to bring the frame and dropout back to their original shape. Sigh of relief; this is why I chose steel, right? No SRAM rear changers were in stock though, except for a Red over at the sister shop, too pricey for CX. Reluctantly we headed across town to the Brand X outlet shop where I scored a silver Rival RD for just $60. And there was much rejoicing. Everything was back the way it was and working, with no missed training days.

Who needs a dualie?

Friday I went solo down to the beach and Sycamore Canyon. This area and Point Mugu State Park are sort of a mecca for coast area mountain bikers. I wasn't so sure about what was doable on a cross bike, but we'd tried a little bit of it a day prior with no big issues. The area was dry as a bone, and has very few rocks. The surface is mostly baked clay, which can be extremely rutted and lumpy. Some of it is covered in powdery dust. There is a bit of sand here and there. All great traction really, especially with the Bontrager CX tires. So long as you check your speed on the fast downhills the only real issue was gearing. 38x27? Most riders I saw were running a 22x32 type of deal on their dualy freeriders. Hey, it's training. Some of the trails were mostly flat, except for the gullies where they cross dry stream beds. There's even a fair amount of pavement on some old ranch roads within the park. My gears were not skipping at all, shifting was perfect. I was back in business.



After crisscrossing the park once, and heading all the way up to the Thousands Oaks entrance side, I headed back down into the valley and down Wood Canyon. I had been riding around two hours at that point, and decided to see if I could make it up the Guadalasco Trail on this bike. A guy at Glendale told me he'd made it on a single speed MTB, so that gave me hope. It's been at least seven years or so since I'd been up it. The bottom was severely rutted as always, but there was not much loose stuff and tractions was superb. Much of Guady is single track in the purest sense of the word, about a foot wide, with rattlesnakes hiding in the grass on each side. Except they don't come out much at this time of year. The CX bike was actually an advantage on some of the super tight switchbacks, although coming out of them there's some rough stuff caused by riders locking it up on the way down. With a lot of standing, before I knew it I'd made the top, which is close to 1000 feet of climbing up. I went down Overlook Road, which is a 1200 foot drop. The road has been graded out wider in the past few years, and was reasonably smooth, but not nearly as much fun on this bike as on an MTB. At the bottom I refueld and then turned back in and up Overlook. I was pretty cooked by now and it wasn't exactly pleasant, but the weather was perfect and with views of the Pacific on one side and the valley on the other, riding the ridge is about as good as it gets to me. I thought about riding down the backbone trail, but if my memory is correct it's not at all suitable for a CX bike, so instead I went straight down Hell Hill. A rider coming up the other way laughed at my dropped bars and said "I was wondering who was making those tracks." Back at the car I had four hours and called it a day. When I left, the Highway Patrol had the road blocked off at Mugu Rock. Audi was filming a commercial and had an R8 driving with the camera cars in the opposite lane. No scantily-clad models for this one though, bummer.



More to come, including my race report from the Adam's Ave CX at the San Diego Velodrome, and of course the upcoming trip to Bend. Sorry for the lack of updates, but I'm enjoying a few weeks not being tehtered to a keyboard. Thanks for reading.