Making it Count

Thanks to Tuesday's snow, riding the MTB was out of the question yesterday. This caused me to get out and do an oldie but a goodie ride on the SSCX bike. Head on over to Trails End, and get hill climb repeats in. Ten had been the most I had ever done in one ride, so I figured I'd shoot for that. By number 7 the climb was starting to hurt, and I figured I'd just take it easy on the last trips. Right as I was finishing number 9, Big Shot Gallego crests the hill to start his own out and back trip. He turned around and finished up with me, then we agreed to do my final trip together. As we started I figured once Alex took off, I would let him go and just ride my own pace up. None of that, riding with Alex pushed me to make that last trip hurt and burn, getting all the goodness out of the climb. I don't know if it was my fastest trip of the day, but I'm going to say it was my most worthwhile trip of the day, just doing what I could to make it count.

Perspective

I needed some of that yesterday. Up until Tuesday afternoon the plan had been to go race at the Barking Spider down in Boise yesterday. Pack up the car Thursday morning, then hit the road with the phillie later that day. Enjoy the scenic drive along Highway 12 and 95 down to Boise, spend the night at a college friends place, race on Saturday (hopefully do well), then drive on home through the Sawtooths on Sunday. Instead I answered the call of duty from gubment, and got a gig with the Census folk. No racing, less riding, more working, probably the ultimate buzzkill for someone in my shoes.

Instead of racing yesterday, once work was done, I headed up in the Rattlesnake on a solo trip with the bike and some water. I rode, plain and simple, no need to bore you with details like trail names, or times, I rode, rode some more, kept riding, and then I rode home. Highlights of the afternoon had nothing to do with how I felt while riding, or how fast I felt, but rather ALL THE PEOPLE WHO WERE OUT RIDING MOUNTAIN BIKES!!! It was great to see such a large group of people out there, doing something that I think is one of the best activities on the face of the earth. So yeah, I would have loved to race yesterday, but just getting out and riding on a sunny day was good enough for me.

To make it all better, a little wing spot here in town was having customer appreciation day. Free chow and 4 dollar domestic pitchers make me a happy boy under any circumstances. When I get to go right from a post ride shower to this event, makes me even happier. Who cares if I ate a whole bunch of shitty food, and sucked down a bunch of cheap hooch, completely negating any sort of gains I may have obtained from my ride, I'm not racing. Finally big ups to the Big Swiss Train today at Roubaix, thanks for two phenomenal classic rides, you have reminded us all why the Classics are the best, and everything else is just filler.

Pushing that 18

Made the switch of the rear sprocket yesterday, putting that sissy 20 tooth away for the time being, and slapping on the trusty 18 tooth. I rode the 34x18 for the beginning of 2009, until I got to XC nationals, let the pussy jeans kick in and switched over to the 20, which I wound up using for Galena (very helpful) and Laramie (helpful). Since then I just kept the 20 on, and I constantly felt like pedaling on descents was a futile endever. No more, during yesterday's ride in the Rattlesnake, I was reminded of what pushing a tough gear was like. Also, while on some of the descents, I actually felt like I had a chain on my bike, rather than just being spun out. Climbing felt slower, and tougher, but since I dont own things like heart rate monitors, powermeters, or even a speedometer I really have no idea if that was the case. And frankly I don't give a shit, pushing a tougher gear is what I prefer, so that is what I'm gonna do (plus with free socialized health care just round the bend here in the states, I can get me some replacement knee parts for nothing in a few years). What I do know is that the ride I got in yesterday, felt much better on an 18, than when I did the same route on the 20.

Enough of my cycling, the second biggest race of the road cycling calender is happening this weekend, Paris-Roubaix. I give the nod to the Tour of Flanders for biggest race, cause it's in Belgium and when I think bikes I think of Belgium. Biggest or second biggest, Paris-Roubaix is loved by many and there or plenty of folks who have been planning all of their off season riding towards this one day. Cancellara and Boonen seem like the even money bets, and they deserve that title, both have won there in the past, both are looking strong right now. I wish I could say that I have high hopes for Boy George in the stars and bars kit, but the hype that has surrounded him in the classics for the past decade, has been just that, hype. However, if he can pull that rabbit out of his hat on Sunday, I will gladly eat that plate of crow. Despite all this, the race can still be a total crapshoot with luck playing as much of a role as ability, so it's anyones race. I just wonder if the fine folks at Flippers would be willing to put cycling on the big screen on Sunday.

I'll Give You a Race With Some Singletrack

So often us riders of the dirt care about one thing in a race: singletrack. Find me a MTB racer who says that there favorite part of a race course is when they get to ride that long doubletrack which is free of any obstacles, and I will find you 1.) someone I would like to punch in the face, and 2.) someone who isnt a MTB racer. We all want singletrack the race course, more often than not we have to deal with a bunch of doubletrack, or paved roads to separate everyone out or some other bullshit reason.

The good news is that there are some race promoters who think singletrack is what we need, and lots of it. Enter Scott Morris, who along with a select few others in this country (Curiak, Petervary, etc) will make your "epic" days look like a warm up. Scott for a bunch of years now has been putting on the AZT 300, which uses the Arizona Trail for a course, start in Mexican border, end in Tucson, try not to get too much cactus in yourself along the way. No entry fee, no support, no bitching. This year, Morris has stepped it up, making the race be a full on border to border test of one's manhood (or womanhood if you are lacking the man parts, but have the lady parts in spades). 750 miles, longest singletrack bike race in the world, who the fuck knows how many different ecosystems/microclimates you'll have to pass through. Let's not forget once you hit the Grand Canyon (yeah that huge fucking scar that cuts across northern arizona), you get to throw that bike on your shoulder and walk it across. Yeah, 21 miles of hiking with your bike and gear on your back, cause the NPS will throw you in jail if those tires touch the ground (if you dont believe me, ask the riding the spine boys).

Yeah, the CTR, has been getting a bunch of buzz (from the likes of Kerkove and others), about its elevation, length, and weather, but I think AZT 750 might have it beat (Note: I think I am mildly objective about this, I have lived in AZ, and plan to live in CO, therefore I like both states). While the AZT doesnt go anywhere near 10,000 feet in elevation, getting your ass up the Colorado Plateau will be a bitch. Also the weather will go from really hot (Mexico border region), to "Oh shit I hope it doesn't snow tonight" once you get up north. And I don't think there is any chance of bumping into some sort of Mexican Drug Cartel who is trying to smuggle a bunch of people across the border anywhere along the Colorado Trail.

Here's my predictions for what would go down in the AZT 750. If Scott races few people could challenge him, as long as nothing horrible happens, he'll win it. If Ohio Rob races, he will finish, cause if he doesn't I will drive to Ashville to fart on all his pillows. BGR has the best shot of anyone to be the first to finish this race on a fixie (yeah a fixie!!) At least half of those who start won't finish. Anyone who tries this without Stan's No Tubes, will be sorry.

My date with SRAM

I have finally returned from the Windy City, and I know that everyone is just dying to hear what my meeting with SRAM and testing of the new XX products was like. Well, for those of you who were dumb enough to believe that, find the closest wall or desk and bang your head against it multiple times. That story was all bullshit, the product of a long bike ride where I had little to think about. However, with my dad and I having some time to kill on Friday before going to pick up my mom and sister from the airport, we got the address to SRAMs corporate headquarters, and headed on down there. Their global headquarters are situated right in a nice gentrified neighborhood outside of downtown Chicago. Other local businesses included a massive REI, some nice looking pizza joint, and something called a "British School" After walking around the building, and realizing there was no way we were getting into the building. Instead I got a picture outside the shipping area around the back. While leaving, there was some guy in a Bianchi t-shirt cutting up boxes who I shouted out "free XX" to, he chuckled, then went back to cutting up boxes.

SRAM shipping

SRAM parking

So that was Chicago, good times with the family, no complaints, expect for having to fly and missing the NCAA championship game. For those cut from the roadie cloth, big things this week include the Grizzly Triathlon, and Rocky Mountain Roubaix. Personally I had planned to go down to the Barking Spider in Boise. Plans for "super awesome" mountain bike road trip with Dejay fell through, when he told me it would last from next weekend until June. However, Barking Spider needs to get scrapped too, got me a gig with some fine folks at the US Census, and training is this week. So there ya go, my plans to return to a race, and see my old college friend has been scrapped due to comitments with Uncle Sam. I guess I will just have to do my riding in Missoula.

Sports on Easter Sunday

Had the pleasure of gorging myself on two types of sporting events which can get classified under the heading of "religious" as far sporting events go. First was the Tour of Flanders, woke my ass up to follow the live coverage on the internets through the folks over at VeloSnooze. Despite how much I complain about that site, they are still good for something, decent live coverage of racing. Later in the day, got to catch the coverage on Versus. While I was stoked about getting to watch the race, certain family members of mine take no pleasure whatsoever in watching the Spring Classics. Translation: after being able to watch for about 45 minutes, complaints started, and the channel was changed.

Lucky for me it was right after Cancellara made is first move, where him and Boonen took of. For a large diesel engine of TT man, Cancellara sure was able to make it look easy getting up those steep climbs (on his final move with 15 km to go, he didn't even get out of the saddle). Conversely, Boom Boom Boonen looked like a mortal the way he was hunched over, pushing and pulling for every ounce of strenth he had in his body to be transfered to his wheels. Let's face it, the bulk of us who provide this fine armchair analysis would be doing more than just "struggling' to even make it over one of these climbs, so both those two killed it on the climbs, regardless of how they looked doing it. Although I did feel it was a perfect reflection of the countries they represent. Switzerland always neutral and smooth, never getting caught up in all the hustle and bustle of the moment, just working hard and looking good at it. Belgium on the other hand, where they just work through all the tough conditions regardless, don't complain, just suffer through it and get it done, it doesnt have to look pretty. I caught up on the rest through Jonny's post over at DC this a.m. Here are my favorite pictures from the race (courtesy of BKW).

At some point in my life, this is where I want to be in early April.

Two off the toughest guy this Spring.

Big props to Millar for having the balls to try to bridge up, its something Boy George never seems to try.

Second religious sporting experience was watching the Yankees Red Sox opener with my sister. Few things get me as excited as having the chance to make fun of people from New England for no logical reason whatsoever. Highlights included Steven Tyler singing "God Bless America" (or some other patriotic song) during the seventh inning stretch, with some floosy on his arm who looked like he picked her up at a bar across the street from Fenway before the game. Big thanks to all you aging rock stars with debatable substance abuse problems for thinking you are still important, it provides the rest of us with endless amounts of comedy. Not to be outdone, Neil Diamond came out the next inning to sing Sweet Caroline (a Fenway staple during the seventh inning stretch). It looks like Neil had gotten his hands on Steven's extra drugs, and couldn't remember the words to his own song, which may have been the highlight of the evening. In the end, the Yankess screwed the pooch, and my sister was not pleased about it. I on the other hand finished the vodka which was in her freezer, which she claimed was over two years old. Frankly, I can't think of a better way to cap off Easter Sunday, than by polishing off an old bottle of hooch.

Der Ronde is My Easter

Happy Der Ronde to you as well. To the folks that listen to the old man in a funny hat (I was counted amongst these folk for a time), you might know this day as Easter. Try as Easter may, a basket full of chocolate eggs, jelly beans, and oversized chocolate bunnies, it's got nothing on that big boy from the land of the Swiss stomping out the best of the rest over in Belgium. This is the first time I will have access to the VS on a Sunday during cycling season, meaning I plan on catching some of the replay from Flanders later today. The last few days in the Windy City have been nice, and the legs have been used for nothing more than taking me from one eating or drinking spot to the next. Stopped on over at SRAM hoping to get treated like a king, instead I was the dunce, and somehow they had forgotten about sending me that invite last week. One quick photo of me on Lake Michigan, otherwise known as the kiddie pool for angry Cubs/Bears/Sox/Bulls/Blackhawk fans.