2010 Wilderness 101

Let me just say that I'm pretty sure there was no way I had enough miles under my legs to finish a 101 mile mountain bike race with any kind of credible strength. I've been saying it for a month. Anyone that I told about the race, I also told that I was expecting at least a 10 hour finishing time.

So we flew down to Coburn, PA in the T-jet, err, drove in Taylor's Saab. We set up camp with the crew of Jake's friends from the Pittsburgh area, and after an adventure to find water we rolled out for a little spin on the bikes to check out the final few miles of the course. I'm glad we did, it rendered handy information during the race.

Upon returning from the ride we stopped by the campsite of some other people Jake knew from CT. After some arm twisting they convinced us to come back and help them finish off the food they'd made, chicken, pasta, and salad. I downed a bit of their food and had a healthy plateful of pasta and sauce that Jake's wife had sent along with us. I have to say, events that combine camping and mountain biking draw the most awesome people.

The Race:
We rolled out of the park and out of Coburn at about 7am and the riders immediately began to string out. We took advantage of space on the road and moved ourselves up, getting quite a bit closer to the front of the race, though not completely at the front. I saw Jake make the left hand turn at the bridge and figured it would the last I'd see him until the finish. Shortly there after, Lee, Chris, Taylor and I began ascending the first climb of the day. We held a comfortable pace over the top and proceeded into a dust cloud of a descent. I think I hit the max speed of the day bombing down that dirt road, my computer told me 38.5 mph. It was like one of those old racing games for Atari or early Nintendo, dodging from side to side of the road to work my way through groups of riders. Did I mention the dust fog?

The course was relatively unexciting for a little while, on the moderately rolling stuff we drafted with other groups of people, though I'm pretty sure our small posse ended up at the front doing most of the pulling in these groups. At one point, this one rider who I initially thought was a girl, but upon seeing them finish, may have actually been a guy, was messing with the feng shui of the group effort. I was a little annoyed with this rider and jumped to the front of the train and dropped some hammers in hopes of dropping them from the group. This wasn't level eight Bowser hammer throwing but enough that I thought shortly there after it may not have been such a good idea. I think we dropped the rider though, there were no more episodes of blasting up the middle of the group on a slight incline only to slow down and get in the way.

Anyhow, I digress. On the climbs we held a quick, but comfortable pace, and on flat to rolling stuff we did the drafting thing. Really groovy stuff, we were passing the miles pretty quickly. Aid station 1 came and went, we barely slowed for it, opting to start right into the climb leading out of the aid station. Then came the first major trail descent. It was an old jeep type road, wide, but the grass was so tall everywhere there was really only one line down the hill; where the trail was beat into the ground. I was ripping down this descent when I flew by Jake standing on the side of the trail, "Jake, WTF!?" I'm not really sure what he yelled back, I was too far gone and there was too much trail noise.

We popped out onto another dirt road climb. I pulled up to a singlespeeder and held pace as I checked back for my compatriots. They weren't too far back so I held my pace with this SS guy and had a little chat with him. Turns out he'd almost given up mountain biking after breaking too many derailleurs, but managed to stick with it after being introduced to the world of single speeds. Crazy. I was happy to make full use of my range of gears. Into another trail and a slow descent to the three bridges before yet another climb. At this point I didn't see the other three guys, but figured they weren't far behind. Following another ripping jeep road descent I latched onto two other guys until aid station 2.

In a short bit, Lee and Chris rolled in, then Taylor shortly after them. I just continued shoving food in my face while the took care of their needs. Once everyone was set we rolled out, 40-ish miles complete, and into possibly the longest climb of the day. We came upon a group of 3 or 4 guys on a small knoll before the real climb and I pulled in front of them as I stood up to stretch the legs, Lee, Chris, and Taylor just staying behind these guys. We got into the climb and I settled into a happy pace, swallowing up a rider from Sid's-NYC. Initially I just followed his wheel, but then he clearly pulled off to let me lead the effort. I obliged and continued on. Then I decided to check for my guys. I figured they were right behind me, but it turns out that the riders I heard behind were not them. I'd opened a gap by accident. After some thinking I decided to keep going with my pace, it was comfortable and I was passing riders, though Sid's-NYC kept hanging on my wheel. I sort pulled to the side once or twice to see if he'd pull through and lead the effort for a little while. No dice. Whatever man, I'm a climbing machine, at least for now. I figured I was going to blow up somewhere between aid station 3 and 4. So I didn't think too much of pulling away from my friends, they'd probably catch up after my implosion.

We finally crested the top of Greenlee Road, and I was thankful, or so I thought I was. It had been nearly 4 miles of constant climbing. I plunged into Croyle Run Trail. It was rougher than a corn cob. When I finally got to the bottom, I felt like I'd been thrown into a dryer for some tumbling action. Rarely is one so happy to be climbing again; at least climbing was smooth. More kidney beating followed down telephone trail. Peeling my fingers off the grips hurt like a son of a...

Into aid station 3. I still felt good, despite being roughed up. Coming Out of three was an immediate turn up Lower Sassafrass Trail, the long single track climb of the day. A little bit of a challenge, but really not that bad, at least when things are going well. Coming down the other side of the hill on Upper Sassafrass was steep, my butt was way behind the rear wheel. The rough and tumble was replaced with a dry, dusty, sandy trail which the rear wheel just skidded through with minimal slowing effect. At one point the trail turned right rather hard, followed by a hard left with a large tree in the apex of the left. I got around the right only to deem that I was headed for the tree. I turned hard into the side of the hill so I could stop. Standing there, it was clear that plenty of other people had been in a similar situation and just cut to the left of the tree in order to make the corner. On to the bottom and an extended section of cross country style singletrack, good stuff. I came across a berm in the trail that screamed jump, so I hit it since I was still feeling good and energized with about 60 miles out of the way.

My one and only cramp scare came when I popped out of the trail and turned up yet another hill. My right leg got all sorts of funny in various places in the quad and hamstring. I kind of shook the leg, rubbed it, and changed the gear into an easier cadence along with downing about half of my bottle of Gatorade. Luckily it went away within a minute or two without any need to stop pedaling.

Somewhere around mile 68 I popped out onto something that resembled civilization and some kind of major road. I say major since it had nice 5 or 6 foot shoulders on it. A half mile up that road was aid station 4. More food, a change of gloves, some lube onto the chain, and a little stretch of the hammies. Roll out of aid station 4 and into, wait for it, another long climb! Nearly the last major climb of the day though, so it was all good. Despite what seemed like a decent sized crowd at the aid station things were pretty thin climbing the hill. My stomach had been a little funky since about the same time the cramp scare came. I was still drinking but maybe not taking in the food as much as I'd been. I was still doing good though. Things changed over to rolling to slightly downhill just before mile 80, and this is where things got lonely so to speak. It was the last sighting I'd have of another rider for quite some time. As I worked my way down through yet more of a beating towards aid station 5, I was really starting to get a little annoyed with how many rocks were plastered all over the trail. Then I saw Kristy and Hollis standing off the trail, their cheers provided a little pick-me-up. I figured the aid station was close. I took a few more minutes of jackhammer torture and popped out onto a road. I then realize that aid station 5 was a few more miles down the road. "How the hell did they get that far up the trail," was all I could wonder the rest of the way into the aid station.

I arrived at the aid station, the lone rider for the volunteers to help. Despite a slightly irritated stomach I tried to put some snacks down the hatch. It was at this moment that I experienced a culinary mutant. In my effort to shovel food in my face, even as I jumped back on the bike, I had a bite of Snickers followed by a few wheat Pringles chips. What a flavor combination, I don't necessarily recommend it for your next dessert party. Trying to wash it down with fruit punch Gatorade added to the oddity.

So I'm leaving the final aid station, and the volunteers tell me, "Only 12 miles left." I replied, "Just a drop in the hat at this point." The real torture now began. The trail turned into boooooooooooooooooooring. Straight, flat rail trail nonsense. Easy on the body, but not nearly as entertaining. A couple miles of that finally ended as the road turned up into the final climb. I was doing good until the road turned steeper and kept torturing me with false summits. I was finally starting to crack. On the upside, once I got over this hill there wasn't far to go, I just had to keep the pedals turning. I finally pulled over the real summit, gave thanks and praise, and started down the other side.

I immediately started cursing again. Even though it was a dirt road and not ridiculous trail nonsense, it was still rough enough to really hurt after the beating that had already been handed down. The bottom finally arrived and there was much rejoicing. Angels sang and minstrels danced and played instruments. The short walk of hike-a-bike was less than cool, but I was close to the finish and I'd seen the trail from here on out, so it didn't bother me all that much. A little more rail trail ended with a super narrow foot bridge of which my handlebars barely squeezed between the railings. Despite my feeble state, I managed to not stuff my handlebars into the railing and send myself tumbling over the side. Off the bridge and into an old railroad tunnel. This was the second tunnel, actually. The first was longer and therefore much darker in the middle. I'd nearly come to a stop just because I couldn't see what I was riding, luckily it was smooth through the first tunnel. The second one had huge chunks of rock scattered about. It's a little difficult to see them in the dark with a blinding light coming from the other end of the tunnel. Luckily I managed to avoid any catastrophic collisions and came out of the tunnel unscathed.

I checked my watch. I had 4 to 6 minutes to make about a mile and a half back to town and still be sub-9 hours. If had hammers to throw, I'd have been throwing like Bowser in level 8, but there were none and I kept telling myself, "Pedal, pedal, pedal."

I pulled across the line, official finishing time, 8 hours, 57 minutes, 44 seconds. Way ahead of where I really thought I'd be. Granted, I walked around about as fast as the living dead and sat down like a rag doll for a solid two hours before I started to feel right, but I was happy to have held off cracking until 40 or 50 miles after I thought it would happen.

So to all those of whom I informed of my doubt, apparently less was more in this case. I'm pretty damn surprised myself to be honest. What'll happen next year? Eight and a half hours? Maybe I'll just quit while I'm ahead. Though, the thought of hanging out with some really great people again certainly has its draw. Who else would feed you food, ride some absurd distance in the woods with you, then party following the race with keg stands and all. Okay, I didn't witness the keg stands, and I only had about a half glass of the beer from the local brewery, I was somewhere close to passing out in my chair with most of the other people at our campsite.

The Condensed Version

A lot has happened in the two months since my last post, I should really keep on top of this blogging thing, but I often find myself forgetting to get things written down. I'll try to bring it all up to speed with the condensed version of June and July.

Early June saw me out riding and starting to get stronger, only to take a significant hiatus with a trip to the Cancun region of Mexico with two of my friends. The trip was not the best for my training considering the swaths of all inclusive food and alcoholic beverages surrounding me. Regardless, it was rather nice to get out of the country for the second time this year, and it was quite relaxing. In true nature to my inability to sit still for very long, I essentially forced Mike and Derek into spending a day on an excursion. The highlight of the excursion, and likely of the trip, at least for me, was visiting the Mayan ruins at Coba and climbing the 40 meter tall pyramid. Pictures of the trip can be found here.

Back in the states I got back to riding, though not as ferociously as past summers have seen from me. I'm really trying to chill out and not have a mental burn out before the middle of cyclocross season. This closes June and brings in July.

Just as I was getting back on track, it was time for another trip. This time I headed for Newport News, VA to celebrate the marriage of my long time friend Todd and his now wife Kate. Congrats to the newly weds, two people certainly made for each other. It was a very enjoyable weekend with a great opportunity to see some people I had not seen in some time.

Back in Connecticut, I began to realize that I'd signed up for a ridiculously long race and it was sitting around 3 weeks away. My mileage was certainly not where it should be. I might note, that with the impending doom of the Wilderness 101 approaching this weekend, I'm pretty sure I still have not put in the hours required to survive this race without entering the initial stages of rhabdomyolysis.

With two weeks to go a few of us riding the 101 headed for an area just North of Poughkeepsie, NY for a 12 hour race. I had no intentions of racing for a full 12 hours, only to put in several hours of riding and call it a day when I felt I'd had enough. That's about what I did too; I rode for nearly 5 hours took a nice break, then put another lap in and called it a day.

So here I am, contemplating my life decisions and whether I'll actually be able to finish the 101. I should have a real good story after the coming weekend.

We have lift off!!

A few weeks ago I took a little trip to Florida to watch something I've wanted to see for a long time, the launch of a space shuttle. With only three planned launches left including this one I was hoping to see, I knew I need to get there. It also works quite well that my brother lives relatively close to Cape Canaveral. I would have the opportunity to spend time with him and his family and meet up with my aunt and uncle and cousins that live in the area.

We headed for Titusville pretty early in the morning to find a place to park and watch the launch. We arrived nearly three and a half hours before the 2:20pm launch time, but it was none to early. People were already parking along the waterfront and staking their spots to watch. We found a great spot with a great view of the launch pad. Despite being 12 miles away, we could see the launch complex pretty clearly with the naked eye. I could see it really well with the super telephoto lens that I rented for my camera. It was just a matter of waiting for launch.

After waiting and waiting and waiting the launch was finally drawing very near. Fortunately it was a beautiful sunny afternoon so the chances of a cancelled launch were very slim. A few minutes before the launch a gentleman with a portable tv came over and stood near me. Now I knew exactly where the countdown was. Right on time, the cloud of smoke billowed from the launch pad. The moment was very surreal for me.

Shortly after the smoke appeared the shuttle could be seen lifting into the air. The sight was incredible!

I took a number of photos, of course. You can view them here.

Ireland

It's been two weeks since returning to the states from Ireland. I traveled with my sister and a long time good friend of mine. We departed on the final Saturday of March with overnight flights, arriving early on Sunday morning. I arrived a bit earlier than Lori and Derek and spent some time reading and doodling at the airport until they arrived. Lori was originally supposed to be on my flight out of Boston, but after a connecting flight was canceled ended up on Derek's flight from Philadelphia. Once we were together we hopped on a bus to Dublin and our apartment.

We elected to rent an apartment for our stay, and it was an excellent choice. With a kitchenette, living room, and space to relax, it made for rather comfortable accommodations. It's location was excellent as well, on a quiet little alley, but under a 5 minute walk to Grafton St., St. Stephen's Green, and many other sights.

We spent the rest of Sunday gathering our bearings in the city. Monday, amidst rain showers we walked to Dublin Castle, Christ Church Cathedral and St. Patrick's Cathedral. Our stop for lunch in all this was a welcomed respite. We warmed up and had some great food; my Irish stew was fantastic. Tuesday we awoke to snowflakes falling, but it did not deter us from the bus tour we had planned. We took the bus to see monastic ruins at Glendalough, through the Wicklow Mountains, and to Kilkenny where we ate dinner and had a look around Kilkenny Castle. On Wednesday we relaxed for a bit, then headed to the neighboring block to visit a few museums.

Thursday was the day of highlights. The rain subsided and we were on a bus headed for the West coast of Ireland with many sights to see. After a brief stop in Galway, we headed for the Cliffs of Moher. Of course we stopped along the way to see a few things, like Dunguaire Castle. We finally got to the cliffs, and the sight was beautiful. After a while of pondering the cliffs we headed for the Poulnabrone Dolmen, an ancient portal tomb. After another brief stop in Galway, we headed back to Dublin for the night. Once back we made a final trip to one of the local pubs.

Friday was spent basically relaxing, doing some final shopping, and packing. We did head to St. Patrick's for the Good Friday service. The choir was very good, singing a few pieces throughout the service.

Saturday we headed to the airport and boarded our planes. Aer Lingus, is definitely an airline worth taking. The staff is friendly, the seating comfortable, and the in flight service and entertainment very nice. Upon arrival in Boston I headed for the train station only to find that my train was canceled due to heavy flooding, so I wandered over to the bus station in order to get myself back to New Haven.

All in all, a very good trip. Photos here.

Apples, Cheesesteak, and a Break.

The week after Hartford Cross came the West Hill Shop race in Putney, Vt. I had a great start to the race and was hanging with a group of guys that fluctuated between 3 to 4 of us for a few laps. I'm guess we, as a group, were holding somewhere in the range of 4-8 positions at any given point. I was feeling good with the group, but the other guys were rather strong. There were places on course where I was faster, and there were places they were faster. Strangely enough, I tended to be faster in power areas, and most of them in the slick corner sections. I finally cracked at the top of the run up one lap though. When I jumped on the bike, the legs just couldn't turn the gear over that I needed to turn over. I faded back for two laps, at which point Jake bridged the gap I'd had over him. He brought one other guy with. I figured Jake was riding much stronger than I at this point, so I decided to get between him and the other racer and block for Jake. With one lap to go Jake was pulling away, but then with a half lap remaining I managed to close the gap on him, then power away through the soft feeling corn field. I placed 8th, Jake 9th. Our prizes, sacks of apples.

I eventually made apple pie with them.

The following weekend was a planned trip to Philadelphia, a city which I'd never visited. Since my friend Sarah and her boyfriend, Matt, live there it was a great opportunity to visit them and see the city. Before I headed for Philly, I needed to make a trip to my home town to pay my final respects to my Grandmother. She and my Grandfather are together forever now.

I made it into Philly Friday night, and after some brief hellos we ventured to a local pub to catch up over some beverages. Saturday morning we headed into the city. We started with a great breakfast at a small restaurant/cafe which gave very large portions of very good food. It was obvious the food would be good from the line outside the cafe. We then ventured to some historical sites including Independence Hall and Elfreth's Ally. We rounded the night out by living the scene from Rocky and running up the steps of the Art Museum.

That brings me into this weekend, in which there were no trips, and no races. That's not to say there wasn't any riding. Sunday was a beautiful day for a bike ride after a very rainy Saturday.

Diving into Cyclocross Season

So here's the recap since vacation since I've failed to stay up to date with it all.

I returned from vacation and on September 19 headed for Rocky Hill, CT for a race. Actually two races. I competed in the Cat 3/4 race then rode in the 1/2/3 race for training. I was doing well enough in the 3/4 race but just didn't have enough gas to ride they way I did for the first 20 minutes of the race. I faded pretty hard after that point, but still managed to finish well. During the 1/2/3 I was just trying to survive the entire hour of the race.

I was scheduled for another race the following weekend but I needed to pay my final respects to a truly great man. My grandfather was quite the role model. I hope he's putting in a good word for me in heaven.

Then this past weekend was the Gran Prix of Gloucester. The third year that I've attended New England Nationals, as it has so been dubbed. Competition is fierce and many. Saturday was a complete mudfest. It rained all day. Jake and Taylor suffered through cold temperatures and rain during their race at 8 am. By the time I raced the rain was intermittent, but the course was a complete mudbog. I didn't have the most particularly awesome race, I was still feeling a bit worn down from the events of the past week and a half.

Day 2 began far nicer. Jake, Taylor, and Lee raced at 8am on a changed up, cleaner course under a dense fog. Jake even pulled of the victory in a solo break away. By 1pm, the sun was out and the course was drying out where it had still been wet. The corners were tacky and everything was fast. I'd rested up well too. Despite starting in the back, and I mean the waaaay back of nearly 100 guys, I managed to fight my way through. Place by place. After some aggressive passes in turns and putting the hammer down I managed to work my way up to 48th.

It was quite a weekend, and now we are full on into 'cross season. More cowbell!

Pictures from Gloucester can be seen here.

Vacation!!

The Thursday prior to Labor day weekend I began my trek South towards a much needed vacation. I stopped in the D.C. area and stayed with Derek and spent the day Friday relaxing around his place. Saturday morning he and I ventured further South to Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina. We were meeting numerous other friends at a house that we were all renting on the beach of the outer banks for a week. The house was fantastic, and huge, perfect for a week long relaxation fest. Okay, maybe some parties too. It was a much needed break, that much is for sure.

The weather was wonderful to start the week, then turned slightly less that desirable for much of the week. We were blessed with a fantastic Friday to end our week there though. After spending a while at the pool, we moved to the ocean to finish our day.

I managed to get a few bike rides in as well, though some late nights and rain stopped me from completing some of the rides I'd planned.

On the way back through we stopped to see two old high school friends in Newport News, VA. After spending a few hours there we continued back to D.C. I dropped Derek off and then spend the night with my sister in Arlington. The trip worked out to be a great opportunity to see a lot of people.

There are some pictures from the trip at this link.

Riding Bikes up Mt. Washington

I ventured to the Mt. Washington, NH area Friday night to support Matt Saturday morning at the Mt. Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hill Climb race. The second weekend in a row at the mountain. I just can't seem to stay away from the place.

Saturday morning was beautiful; clear blue skies and warm enough to be comfortable in a t-shirt at 6 am. Driving from Gorham to the mountain I could see the summit was perfectly clear of any cloud cover. There are very few days this nice at the summit, it was going to be wonderful for taking pictures.

After meeting up with Matt and Bill and talking for a while, Bill, Rob and I headed for the summit. Once we were there I started snapping some photos, then decided to walk down the road a ways to where I could a few sections of the road further down the road. I waited there until Matt came by then head back to watch people finish at the summit.

I was really trying to get some good shots with the camera; the scenery, the pain, the glory. I feel like I got some good ones. In doing so, I experienced an extremely emotion scene.

I rode the mountain two years ago, it ranks as one of my favorite bike rides of all time. 7.6 Miles with an average gradient of 12%, all uphill, gaining 4700+ ft. of elevation. It doesn't sound like a lot of fun, but what an experience and accomplishment. My own experience, on some level, let me into the emotion that these people were carrying into the final steep slopes near the summit. I could see so much in their faces, and then to see family and friends of all ages, just as emotional while cheering on their loved ones; the entire scene was amazing. I almost cried at one point. Unfortunately, my words don't do the scene justice. Hopefully my photographs do a slightly better job.

Arrival

We arrived at mt. Washington to a brief bit of sunlight then got the easy up set up. We were just getting tarps on the sides when it started to rain, then poor, then hail. It is sunny now, wait, here comes some more sprinkles.

Departure

7:30am departure with Lee, Taylor, & a very packed car for the five hour trip to Mount Washington.

Heading North

Nearly everything is packed into the car, so we're pretty much ready to head North to Mt. Washington for the weekend. Hopefully everyone's training has set them in great shape, and hopefully the legs will be there for everyone. See you soon as we get some live updates going.

Count Down to Cannon Fire

It is now down to a week and a half until the annual 24 Hours of Great Glen. This is the event upon which the summer training has been focused, as were the previous two summers. In some ways I am more nervous and anxious about this year, yet I also feel far more calm, relaxed and laid back about this year. It's a strange place to be, and I can't decide whether it's good or bad, or if I should really worry about it.

I find myself reflecting upon the three years I've participated in this event. The first year we hardly spent time training, specifically for the event. It was an event that sounded crazy and absurd enough to be fun. Four of us, Taylor, Solin, Bill and myself rolled up to Mt. Washington, and staked out our campsite in the dark the night before the race. I didn't even have a tent, luckily Solin had one big enough for the two of us. We certainly learned a lot that year. We had a great time, though our approach was slightly haphazard.

For year two we got a bit more serious. I had started racing the regular XC circuit again with Taylor. Lee had also started racing as well, and with Bill bowing out, Lee was our clear choice for the fourth man. Solin of course was back and we had a much needed addition of Matt Feiner for pit support. Lee's twin, Chris, and his girlfriend also came up to provide additional support. Our friend Mike came along as well, volunteering a significant amount of time through the night to help the organizers of the event keep things running smoothly. Solin's wife and little girl came along to cheer us on as well. We were trained and hungry for a good result, and with the support we had, we would be well taken care of. I have to say, Matt's entertainment value alone
changed the whole event and atmosphere at camp. He and Chris had us taken care of too, we were certainly eating a lot more than we'd done the previous year. I remember coming back from my night laps, I was drained physically and mentally. Spending 2 hours alone, in the dark, in the woods while pressing your physical limits does strange things to your head. I sat down, with the grandest of blank stares, I'm sure, and Chris immediately got after me to get some food in me. The single greatest bowl of warm oatmeal was in my hands in no time.

Year three saw another change in the team roster. Solin would be unable to join us, so we picked up Jake. We were getting more serious about the event as well. This season was surely dedicated to finishing as best we could, we were hoping for a podium spot. Matt was back for support, and Lee's girlfriend Kristy would be our second pit support helper. I had warned Kristy that we would be in a strange place upon returning from our night time laps. Much to her dismay, I returned from my laps in the dark rather chipper. The biggest issue we had was
the mud. Our bikes came back from each lap absolutely caked in mud. Matt had to spend far more of his time cleaning and prepping our bikes and so we suffered a little in the nutrition category at times. We suffered problems with lights yet again, a running theme for us. Despite placing quite well after a very dramatic finish, we missed the podium in our class by 10 minutes. (The complete account of last year is available in 3 acts plus one for the data crunching, you can read them via the following links; act 1, act 2, act 3, data)

Year four now approaches quickly. The roster has changed yet again, though each of us is a veteran of the event. Lee opted not to ride this year, rather work as our cheif pit man. We are still attempting to secure a 2nd pit person to make Lee's life a little easier since Matt will be unable to join us. Jake, Solin, Taylor and myelf will ride in the expert class, upgrading ourselves from sport. I would have loved to stand on the podium in sport, but none of us really wants to be a 'sandbagger,' so we now aim for the expert podium. We all look strong on the bike this year, we have the potential to complete more laps than we've ever done and finish better than we ever have.

When the cannon fires, marking the start of the race, another 24 hour period will begin. We will have to emulate time, and operate like clockwork. While it seems that 24 hours is a long time, every precious second and every bit of energy, will have to be used wisely. While our fate in the race is yet to be determined, one thing is for sure, memories will be made that we will talk about for weeks, months, even years to come.

6 Hours of Power

The 6 Hours of Power was to serve two purposes; training and preparation for the 24 hour race, and a confidence builder. One thing was for sure, the time spent in and around my home town was worth the trip, I only wish I’d allocated more time to spend there and alleviate a little more stress. That alone was probably worth a bit of confidence.

The morning of the race we were a little later leaving than desired, but I didn’t figure it to be a big problem. With at least six hours of riding, I wasn’t going to need much of a warm-up. We arrived at Holiday Valley ski resort about 30 minutes prior to the start of the race. I checked in at registration and we began to unpack the van and take things to the pop up canopy my uncle Jim had set up. He was there supporting my cousin Pat who was also racing. As I pulled my bike out of the van I realized that my front wheel was not there. In my less than attentive state earlier that morning, I’d taken it off, but forgot to put it in the van. Luckily I had managed to throw my back up wheels in, so I had a front wheel to use. The back up front wheel had less than desirable tread on it, but it would have to suffice.

The race started with a Le Mans style running start, everyone scrambling to get to the bikes as fast as they could. I found mine, and took off up the opening climb. I’d ridden it many times several years back, so I was very confident in how hard I should climb it. I passed several people right away. At the top of the hill, the single track began. Fantastic single track, I’d forgotten how good some of it was, even if it was a little damp and greasy in places.

I finished the first lap, just beginning to feel warmed-up. I took a half banana and a fresh water bottle and got on with the second lap. The field had thinned out a bit, so this lap I was able to see more of the trail ahead of me. I had a blast in the single track, riding it relatively fast, even jumping the bike here and there. I felt smooth and confident.

Each lap I came through, I stopped at the pop up, where my mom had a tray full of food selections. I would grab a thing or two, and shove what I could in my mouth and hold on to what I could to finish off as I headed through the timing area at the start/finish line. When I looked through the pictures taken by the professional photographer, it seemed as if they took most of their pictures in this area, my cheeks were puffed full of food in most pictures. The food was extremely important, in order to ride strong for six plus, straight hours I needed to keep calories coming in.

As I finished lap three, my legs were getting tired. By the end of lap 4, all the zip had left my quads, and my hamstrings were feeling a little sore and over-worked. The final downhill was fast, and also steep and rough in places. On a mountain bike this means hovering above the saddle, using the legs as shock absorbers. My calf muscles were now burning by the time I was getting to the bottom of the hill. The bumps and hard braking from the hill, and the overall nature of handling the bike in the single track was taking its toll on my arms too, especially my triceps.

I started lap 5, knowing I had only two laps more to ride. I went up the hill, slowly but surely. At the top, I stopped. The only time the entire race other than at the pit. I felt like I needed to stretch my hamstrings a little. It helped a little, but not enough to warrant the stop. I continued on, slowly. Anywhere the bike would coast, I was coasting. I began to think about making this my last lap. I could just stop at our pit, located just before the finish line and wait until 4pm to finish. (The rules state that you cannot ‘finish’ before the end of the 6 hours. Crossing the line earlier means completing another lap to finish.) I was headed toward a bad place, mentally.

Near the end of the lap, Pat came through to lap me. I sped up and kept with him for a short bit, it made for a quick uplifting moment, seeing a familiar face out on course. I finished out the lap, and essentially forgot that I’d almost thought about stopping. That is until I crossed the finish line and was committed to completing another lap. Any feelings of regret were soon gone and I focused on getting through one more lap. I even found a little hidden drive and strength over the last half lap as I caught and passed one guy that had passed me earlier. I was determined to finish ahead of him, especially since he was riding single speed.

The confidence I was looking for, didn’t come right away. Some of it did, but some of it has come as I reflect and look over the results. Certainly, I rode well. Despite being tired at the end, I felt good, really good. I have felt much worse at the end of far shorter races.

My total riding time was 6 hours 38 minutes 44 seconds. Throw in a few pit stops, and my total finishing time was 6:44:59. I completed 6 laps of the course for 58.26 miles. I was 26^th overall, of 83 solo riders, 43^rd overall of 123 solo riders and two person teams. (Results here)

My lap times were

lap 1 - 1:01:18

lap 2 - 1:00:19

lap 3 - 1:04:44

lap 4 - 1:11:39

lap 5 - 1:15:30

lap 6 - 1:11:29

There are a few pictures here from the day's event.

Pictures from the professional photographer’s site are here. I’m in photo #18, #252, #253, #468, #565

On a side note, Pat finished in first place for the solo riders. Only two of the teams were faster.

Slippery Race at Putney

And so it has continued to be wet, and it even rained as Taylor and I entered the state of Vermont. Not particularly exciting when I'm planning to race, though, I guess I didn't care a whole lot. I just prefer dry trails, especially technical ones. Wet roots and I have never had the best of relationships, cordial to one another, but never out of our way to be friendly.

It had rained quite a bit at Putney recently so the trails were damp, greasy, and extremely ready to suck the life from each rider's legs. The race started out okay, but soon enough the entire field just walked away from me. It took me nearly all of the 4 laps to begin to find a rhythm I'd had through roots and mud that I'd had before pile driving my shoulder into the ground. Until I began to show some ability, I pretty much looked like a kid that just got off his training wheels. At least that's how I felt I looked. I looked forward to the climbs, at least a little. After all, it is where I usually shine.

Not so on this day. I was doing pretty good compared to other people I saw, even getting pretty far, farther than most, over some really slippery technical uphill stuff. But, the greasy mud was too much for even the best of us. I saw no one riding, on two particular spots of the course. The less technical climbs proved to be suffer-fests. Many riders were reduced to slow, grinding climbs as their rear wheels struggled to hold traction.

Through it all, I felt that I rode fairly well, I was even beginning to catch some guys towards the end of the race. I have the endurance, just no high end speed yet. So I felt good about my ride, even if I was really close to the back of the 19-29 Cat 1 field.

New Wheels!!

I'd been longing for a nice set of race wheels for the mountain bike for some time. I'd been looking at parts online, comparing price versus weight versus performance, and trying to find that optimal blend of the three. I'd looked at some of the high end wheel sets that were available, but decided I could spec out each piece on my own and build something close enough without spending as much money. So I ended up with Mavic XC 717 Disc rims, Wheelsmith XL14 spokes, Wheelsmith alloy nipples, a Cannondale Lefty hub for the front, and a Chris King hub for the rear. I mounted a Shimano XT cassette, the rotors that came with my Avid BB7 mechanical disc brakes, and some random light wieght tire I found in my dad's garage for the rear. A Kenda Karma stick-E on the front. I'm rather pleased, the best wheels I've built yet too. I should clarify, the best I've built a set of wheels yet, they've held true through the first round of beating.

On a side note, a cyclist I met a few years ago, pointed me in the direction of a blog some friends of his had started. Joe's friends are riding across the country, in a speedy sort of way. Since I have a life goal to accomplish just such a task, though likely a bit slower to stop and see things, I've been following along. You might enjoy their journey as well. Follow along here.

Weekend Get Away

Memorial day weekend became a 4 day weekend for me with the company furlough on Friday. Not a problem with me, I'd already planned to travel for the weekend and the extra day was great to have. I made the drive, through throngs of bugs, back to the home town. The front of my car, and the bike on top, were absolutely plastered with bugs. Pleasant to clean, let me say, especially off the bar tape and brake hoods.

As much fun as densely populated areas can be with all they offer to do, I always seem to feel so much better in the rural areas of Northern Pennsylvania. The rest is better, the rides are better, the air is better, a lot of things are better. I'll stop short of saying everything, because there are some great things about Southern Connecticut as well. I always enjoy getting quality rides in though.

This particular trip didn't see as much riding as a normal trip to the area. I spent a good bit relaxing, as well as visiting various extensions of the family. The biggest ride was nearly 58 miles, in the warmest weather I've ridden to date this year. I struggled a bit in it, and downed the 2 bottles I'd brought along, by the time I'd reached the halfway point. Luckily, as I'd hoped, there was a water fountain in Kinzua Bridge State Park. The biggest hills climbs of the ride came in the last 9 miles of the ride, I struggled with them to say the least.

The best ride of the weekend may have been the morning of Memorial day. I'd planned to start my trip back to Connecticut early, but thankfully came to my senses. Why head back early to get a ride in there, when I could ride the perfectly wonderful roads of McKean County? My dad and I put in a great 25 mile ride. The roads were quiet and nearly void of traffic, the winds were light when they were in our face, and we hit the fastest downhill I've been on. I only managed 51.6 miles per hour, a little shy of my personal speed record, which had been achieved on the same hill a few years ago.

Unfortunately such enjoyable times of relaxing and riding had to come to an end.

Spring Travel

Travel has been my theme as of late. About a month and a half ago I made a trip to Washington D.C. metro area. With two uncles, a sister, and two good high school friends in the area it always makes for a busy visit. Three or four days just never seems enough time to spend the time I feel I need to with everyone.

A few weeks later I made a weekend trip to Florida to visit my brother and his family. Oddly enough, the weather that weekend was actually warmer in Connecticut than in Florida. I have to say, the weather in Florida that weekend was just about perfect for me. It was the type of weather I could get used to; sunny and warm, but not hot.










I was also able to meet up with up with my aunt and uncle in Stuart, just a few miles from my brother's house. They hosted me for a wonderful dinner.

The number of people out cycling in Florida made me rather anxious to get out and ride, but an injured shoulder and no bike, it was not to be.

I returned late on a Monday night, then that Thursday I took off yet again for D.C. I'd had so much fun during the recent visit there I really wanted to get back down before cycling season really took off for me. Being off the bike with the shoulder injury really opened up some weekends for me to take off and go do things in place of the usual training.

This Spring seems to have a high K constant

Spring is suddenly approaching rather quickly, I feel like I've barely done much riding to speak of and the important races are drawing close. So far I ventured to Bethel for a short criterium, mostly for the workout, not really the results. Though I finished mid-pack without contesting the sprint. Last Thursday, a whole week ago now, was my last ride. I stopped at the velodrome in Trexlertown, PA on my way to Washington D.C. After going in ovals for an hour I continued my car ride. Upon returning from D.C. I immediately wound up with the second sore throat and head cold in less than three weeks. Riding was a thought, but with a nice chest cough it seems I'll be holdng off for maybe a day longer.

I'll get to see just how poorly prepared I am soon enough. For another work out, I'll be at the Plainville Spring Series for another criterium, then the King of Burlingame mountain bike time trial. I fully expect to get womped in my first race as an expert. I finished midway in the results last year as a sport rider. A week later is the first Root 66 race of the season, Hop Brook Dam. This is the first 'important' race, and at 21 miles, I fully expect to be somewhere way behind the leaders. My primary goal at all of these, not to be DFL. I figure Hop Brook will be my wake up call to start putting some hours in.

My big excuse? I'm claiming that I don't want to burn out a third of the way into 'cross season this year and I'm only racing expert so that I can get a chance to ride longer races. We'll see how it all works out.

In the mean time, here is a video of riding at the velodrome. 25mph doesn't look as fast on video.

Velodrome Riding from Scott Frison on Vimeo.

Skiing Stowe

The Martin Luther King Jr. holiday weekend took me to the Stowe ski resort, near the town of Stowe, VT. I joined a number of friends at a house that we rented in Morrisville, VT. We spent two quality days on the mountain skiing, despite extremely cold weather. The first day we pulled into the parking lot with sub 0°F temperatures. The second day was warmer at 11°F when we pulled up.

The skiing was fantastic, especially on Sunday after an overnight snow left some fresh white stuff on the mountain. While it can be relatively easy to just glide down the mountain, we didn't take it easy. We really worked the turns at a fast pace, leaving my legs rather tired by the end of day two on the mountain.

There are a few pictures here.

I also captured a video during one of our runs. I almost had a giant yard sale on the mountain when I hit a small patch of ice followed by some bumps. Skiing with both poles in one hand and a camera in the other, not the easiest.

I suggest clicking on the option in the lower right of the video screen for HQ (high quality) when watching. It takes a little longer to load, but allows you to see a much better image.

Lots of Car Time

There's been rather little bike riding since the final race. In fact, there hasn't been any for me, I didn't even bother to take a bike with me on my Christmas trip to my home town. There was quite a bit of time spent in cars during that time though.

Tuesday, December 22nd found me home-bound after work. 6 Hours 36 minutes after leaving work I arrived in Port Allegany. With little time I made good time.

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The only traveling on Christmas Eve and Christmas day was around town to places like my grandparents, church, and my friends' houses. Then, the day after Christmas, I traveled with my parents to the Buffalo airport to pick up my brother.

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After a weekend of family fun it was back to the Buffalo airport early Monday morning to drop off my brother. The warm weather that had arrived with him, seemed to be going back to Florida with him as well. I stopped in Smethport to see my grandfather on the way back from the airport and then in the evening I went skiing with some friends at Holiday Valley. This was my 3rd appearance in the town of Ellicottville, NY for the day. Conditions were on the icy side after the big melt and refreeze.

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The rest of the week was spent relaxing. Then, Saturday, January 3, 2009, I made the return trip to Connecticut. Thus ends my Christmas vacation and its travels.

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I suggest clicking on the option to 'view larger map' and zooming appropriately to get the full picture of the travels. To some, this would be hell. For me, it can be rather enjoyable, the traveling about. I hope to place some pictures on a map soon. I'll be sure to post a link for your enjoyment.