Friday, August 01, 2008
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Follow Along at Home
If you'd like to follow along, you will be able to thanks to the folks at Granny Gear.
Real Time Results
The race starts at 10am on Saturday.
Tomorrow Johnny and I will finalize our pit setup while waiting for Sam to arrive, then the three of us will hit a couple of laps to check the course.
Real Time Results
The race starts at 10am on Saturday.
Tomorrow Johnny and I will finalize our pit setup while waiting for Sam to arrive, then the three of us will hit a couple of laps to check the course.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Dopers Suck
War Axe Bicycles/Bareknuckle Brigade rider Skip Cronin has tested positive for huffing paint, the Wausau Daily Herald reported on Sunday. According to the paper, one of the single speeder's urine samples collected by the USADA Anti-Doping Control showed positive traces of a variety of substances commonly found at local hardware store. In addition, Cronin was seen to have pink metal flaked paint the size of a paint can lid covering his face throughout the recent 24 Hours of 9 Mile event.
The team's ‘War Wagon’ Suburban was reportedly stopped by police and searched, and the police were seen carrying paint cans away in a scene that resembled the opening credits of ‘Saturday Night Fever.’
Directeur sportif Sam Rosenau said he was as surprised as anybody. "We only found out ten minutes ago that we weren’t even racing in a true National Championship class. At first we thought the entire team would stop racing in unsanctioned events and reregister in events which will require a license, but then we realized weren’t not even an official a team. The only thing we are sure about is the beer drinking. That stays."
Cronin, who is rather slow anyway, was dead last in the single speed category before the news broke on Sunday morning. The Nebraskan’s less-than-impressive performances have in the past been explained by his naturally low hematocrit level and inability to say no to Starbuck’s Raspberry scones. (Starbucks was not available for comment at press time.)
Cronin, also known as, 'Endurosnob,' was part of a targeted group of riders who it is believed purposefully race in non-sanctioned events for “fun and camaraderie.” Since the TransIowa in April, it is believed that Cronin not only huffed paint, but also consumed copious amounts of Red Bull and caffeinated energy gels. In addition, he has engaged in such erratic behavior as missing turns in races and unsafely low-fiving friends who cross his path on the Lincoln, Nebraska bike paths, according to the Wausau Daily. He has also been known to wear nail-polish during races, which authorities point to as a clear sign of his instability.
John Kohtz, friend and mechanic, described the final moments before Cronin was announced positive. "He just sat in the suburban and was not able to say anything. We didn’t know if it was effects of the race or the fact he had been huffing paint after each lap. There was pink and black paint everywhere, like someone had killed mountain bike Barbie. We didn't want to make a scene with the police, but he was surrounded by paint cans and it made quite a racket when he tumbled out of the truck. It reminded me a lot of Howard Hughes, actually.”
The team's ‘War Wagon’ Suburban was reportedly stopped by police and searched, and the police were seen carrying paint cans away in a scene that resembled the opening credits of ‘Saturday Night Fever.’
Directeur sportif Sam Rosenau said he was as surprised as anybody. "We only found out ten minutes ago that we weren’t even racing in a true National Championship class. At first we thought the entire team would stop racing in unsanctioned events and reregister in events which will require a license, but then we realized weren’t not even an official a team. The only thing we are sure about is the beer drinking. That stays."
Cronin, who is rather slow anyway, was dead last in the single speed category before the news broke on Sunday morning. The Nebraskan’s less-than-impressive performances have in the past been explained by his naturally low hematocrit level and inability to say no to Starbuck’s Raspberry scones. (Starbucks was not available for comment at press time.)
Cronin, also known as, 'Endurosnob,' was part of a targeted group of riders who it is believed purposefully race in non-sanctioned events for “fun and camaraderie.” Since the TransIowa in April, it is believed that Cronin not only huffed paint, but also consumed copious amounts of Red Bull and caffeinated energy gels. In addition, he has engaged in such erratic behavior as missing turns in races and unsafely low-fiving friends who cross his path on the Lincoln, Nebraska bike paths, according to the Wausau Daily. He has also been known to wear nail-polish during races, which authorities point to as a clear sign of his instability.
John Kohtz, friend and mechanic, described the final moments before Cronin was announced positive. "He just sat in the suburban and was not able to say anything. We didn’t know if it was effects of the race or the fact he had been huffing paint after each lap. There was pink and black paint everywhere, like someone had killed mountain bike Barbie. We didn't want to make a scene with the police, but he was surrounded by paint cans and it made quite a racket when he tumbled out of the truck. It reminded me a lot of Howard Hughes, actually.”
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
24 Hours of Snappy Caps
24 Hours of 9 Mile is going to present the opportunity to test new Snappy Caps that are made of a wicking material with a little added flair.
OK, the hat is not quite finished but wanted to get some pics posted.
Two happy marriages:
OK, the hat is not quite finished but wanted to get some pics posted.
Two happy marriages:Form and Function
Snappy Caps and War Axe
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Now Entering "The Fun-Zone"
When I came home on Friday, I found Mrs. Snob chilling in our bedroom reading a Dwell magazine. Tired from the day, I flopped down on our bed and starting fading out into a nap.
"Are you pretty tired, "Mrs Snob asked.
"Yeah, and I am in that pre-race state of mind where I've decided I suck."
"That's always fun."
I passed on commenting further, then, as I image many people do, we starting ticking off little aspects of our day and I finished up with, "Oh, and I ordered my new gloves."
"You did? Good for you."
"What do you mean, 'good for me?'"
"Well, sometimes when you get into that zone, you have a hard time getting anything done."
"You mean when I think I suck?"
"Yes."
"Yeah, it's a real 'Pre-Race Fun-Zone.'"
With that, I've actually found a much more relaxed state of mind over the weekend. I'm still fat and in dire need of a haircut, but I wouldn't quite say that I suck.
At least, not right now...
"Are you pretty tired, "Mrs Snob asked.
"Yeah, and I am in that pre-race state of mind where I've decided I suck."
"That's always fun."
I passed on commenting further, then, as I image many people do, we starting ticking off little aspects of our day and I finished up with, "Oh, and I ordered my new gloves."
"You did? Good for you."
"What do you mean, 'good for me?'"
"Well, sometimes when you get into that zone, you have a hard time getting anything done."
"You mean when I think I suck?"
"Yes."
"Yeah, it's a real 'Pre-Race Fun-Zone.'"
With that, I've actually found a much more relaxed state of mind over the weekend. I'm still fat and in dire need of a haircut, but I wouldn't quite say that I suck.
At least, not right now...
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Reminder of Spring
Few words for you today. Just a few pics from a Saturday gravel roller. Does that make us gravel rolleurs? (Anyone else surprised Sastre held on? Whoa.)
Thursday, July 24, 2008
My Buddy, The Legbreaker
This week's 'conversational' ride with Corey and Jeff started in much the same fashion as last week, right down to the topics of discussion. We passed through Denton covering Ricco, CVV, and personal finance when Dr. Godfrey started to turn pedals in anger.
For a moment, we were even in our own little version of Wednesday Night Worlds, with Corey putting in an effort, a counter from me and then Corey going again. Jeff had yelled something lost in the wind during the 'fireworks' and once I could ask what it was it had turned out he'd yelled, "Are we really going to do this?"
I guess we 'did,' but it didn't last long. That boy can break legs.
For a moment, we were even in our own little version of Wednesday Night Worlds, with Corey putting in an effort, a counter from me and then Corey going again. Jeff had yelled something lost in the wind during the 'fireworks' and once I could ask what it was it had turned out he'd yelled, "Are we really going to do this?"
I guess we 'did,' but it didn't last long. That boy can break legs.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Shawnee Mission Six Hour: Pink Frosty Demo
As I strolled through the tall grass toward race registration on Saturday, I immediately thought the Shawnee Mission Park race had a really nice setup going. You could see a small portion of the course mown through the park grass and pop-ups already lining the route, ready to race. I was lucky enough to catch Craig as I walked up and we were soon joined by a few of the other Heartland/360 guys. They were nice enough to give me the Cliff's Notes version of the course, including Craig's great detail that 'Violet means Violent,' otherwise to be known as rocky as hell.
Mrs. Snob and the crew helped me set a pit right at the crest of hill through the pit area then left me to my own devices. The plan was for them to return roughly halfway through the race and assist if needed, but until then I was on my own.
The plan going in was pretty simple. Ride the majority of the race like a 24, keep steady laps times rolling, and most importantly, push myself in the rocks. I also planned to try some different foods and bar/grip setups. With the temps and humidity high, I also reminded myself I needed to the day for what it was and not think to far ahead of myself. No counting laps. No worrying about placing. I'd ask about it on the last lap or two and go from there.
A lap at SWP fits into a tidy little box; exposed powerline climb which then drops and rises again, semi-rocky single track giving way to 'violently' rocky single track, releasing you to a bit of the semi-smooth stuff until you pop back out for a short jaunt along the power line the way you came and a short bit of trail until the finish.
I didn't take the LeMans start very seriously and hopped on my bike roughly one third of the way back in the pack. After making a dodgy pass along the powerline (sorry, I know I jacked up someone's line behind me), I slipped into the single track with Matt Dutcher right behind me. We had a great conversation going for a fair portion of the initial sections of single track, which included some insider advice that kept me from sliding out into a tree on one of the free flowing sections of the course. Eventually though, I gave way, primarily due to a lack of confidence in the rocks. It's a head game. If I feel like I am slowing you down, I have to let you pass. Once I slid over, I expected a long string of guys to go by, but it was only Matt and one other guy so I got back on my merry way.
From there, I stuck myself in metronome mode. Tick, Tock. Pit. Grab bottles. Melt in the heat on the powerline. Flow then bounce around the room on the rocks. Flow again. Repeat.
However, on my fourth lap I realized there were a couple of holes in the execution of my little plan. I hadn't eaten anything and the heat was starting to get to me. Unfortunately, I realized the calorie deficiency right before the worst section of rocks so I pounded those out and then stopped and grabbed a bar from the back of my jersey. I was also understandably slopping through the rocks, but just ate and kept turning the pedals over.
At three hours, I stopped in the pop-up, dunked a towel in the water resting in the bottom of my color and threw it on my head. Ahhhh. I stayed the time it took to eat a bar and resumed the game. I was a little surprised the family hadn't arrived back yet, but with some of the construction in the area, thought they were just stuck in traffic.
The last half of the race was pretty lonely going. I bounced back and forth with Josh a couple of times and but with the three hour race over and that same amount of time to spread out the field, people where few and far between. Work hard on the rocks. Eat. Drink.
As I was closing out one of my later laps, I rode past my tent and into the start finish. I had expected the crew to arrive by then so I stopped, dropped the bike and fumbled around for my phone to find out where they were. "We're just finishing up at the pool," was the word. "Oh, okay, well, I'm going back out then."
Whatever lap I started around five proved to be my best lap of the day, even though I cased it near the end. Because I had just kept a steady tempo through the day, I had some energy to burn in the single track and clanged my way through the rocks in what felt like my smoothest lap of the day. In fact, the reason I wrecked was because I was thinking about that instead of the little tree that I hooked leaving the single track. Classic me.
The crew still wasn't there when I emerged from the trees so I rode down to the start/finish and asked the proverbial question, "Where do I stand?" It turned out, I was fourth and about 20 minutes down from third. There was really no point in going back out, but, after some good banter with the Heartland guys, I went anyway.
As I got to the single track, I got completely overzealous and thought 'hot lap,' then promptly wrecked again, washing out and drilling a tree. I then made a weird decision for me, I pulled off the trail and killed the lap early.
I had a great time. I feel much better on the rocky stuff and gained a bit of knowledge on my setup. If I remember to eat and can figure out when I get so bloated in the heat at times, I'll be good to go.
Speaking of great times, all of the guys who put the race on deserve a round of applause and a thank you. Nothing like going to race and thinking to yourself mid-lap, "you know, those guys would be pretty cool to hang out with."
Mrs. Snob and the crew helped me set a pit right at the crest of hill through the pit area then left me to my own devices. The plan was for them to return roughly halfway through the race and assist if needed, but until then I was on my own.
The plan going in was pretty simple. Ride the majority of the race like a 24, keep steady laps times rolling, and most importantly, push myself in the rocks. I also planned to try some different foods and bar/grip setups. With the temps and humidity high, I also reminded myself I needed to the day for what it was and not think to far ahead of myself. No counting laps. No worrying about placing. I'd ask about it on the last lap or two and go from there.
A lap at SWP fits into a tidy little box; exposed powerline climb which then drops and rises again, semi-rocky single track giving way to 'violently' rocky single track, releasing you to a bit of the semi-smooth stuff until you pop back out for a short jaunt along the power line the way you came and a short bit of trail until the finish.
I didn't take the LeMans start very seriously and hopped on my bike roughly one third of the way back in the pack. After making a dodgy pass along the powerline (sorry, I know I jacked up someone's line behind me), I slipped into the single track with Matt Dutcher right behind me. We had a great conversation going for a fair portion of the initial sections of single track, which included some insider advice that kept me from sliding out into a tree on one of the free flowing sections of the course. Eventually though, I gave way, primarily due to a lack of confidence in the rocks. It's a head game. If I feel like I am slowing you down, I have to let you pass. Once I slid over, I expected a long string of guys to go by, but it was only Matt and one other guy so I got back on my merry way.
From there, I stuck myself in metronome mode. Tick, Tock. Pit. Grab bottles. Melt in the heat on the powerline. Flow then bounce around the room on the rocks. Flow again. Repeat.
However, on my fourth lap I realized there were a couple of holes in the execution of my little plan. I hadn't eaten anything and the heat was starting to get to me. Unfortunately, I realized the calorie deficiency right before the worst section of rocks so I pounded those out and then stopped and grabbed a bar from the back of my jersey. I was also understandably slopping through the rocks, but just ate and kept turning the pedals over.
At three hours, I stopped in the pop-up, dunked a towel in the water resting in the bottom of my color and threw it on my head. Ahhhh. I stayed the time it took to eat a bar and resumed the game. I was a little surprised the family hadn't arrived back yet, but with some of the construction in the area, thought they were just stuck in traffic.
The last half of the race was pretty lonely going. I bounced back and forth with Josh a couple of times and but with the three hour race over and that same amount of time to spread out the field, people where few and far between. Work hard on the rocks. Eat. Drink.
As I was closing out one of my later laps, I rode past my tent and into the start finish. I had expected the crew to arrive by then so I stopped, dropped the bike and fumbled around for my phone to find out where they were. "We're just finishing up at the pool," was the word. "Oh, okay, well, I'm going back out then."
Whatever lap I started around five proved to be my best lap of the day, even though I cased it near the end. Because I had just kept a steady tempo through the day, I had some energy to burn in the single track and clanged my way through the rocks in what felt like my smoothest lap of the day. In fact, the reason I wrecked was because I was thinking about that instead of the little tree that I hooked leaving the single track. Classic me.
The crew still wasn't there when I emerged from the trees so I rode down to the start/finish and asked the proverbial question, "Where do I stand?" It turned out, I was fourth and about 20 minutes down from third. There was really no point in going back out, but, after some good banter with the Heartland guys, I went anyway.
As I got to the single track, I got completely overzealous and thought 'hot lap,' then promptly wrecked again, washing out and drilling a tree. I then made a weird decision for me, I pulled off the trail and killed the lap early.
I had a great time. I feel much better on the rocky stuff and gained a bit of knowledge on my setup. If I remember to eat and can figure out when I get so bloated in the heat at times, I'll be good to go.
Speaking of great times, all of the guys who put the race on deserve a round of applause and a thank you. Nothing like going to race and thinking to yourself mid-lap, "you know, those guys would be pretty cool to hang out with."
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Satisfied
I wanted rocks. I got rocks. Roughest course I have ever ridden.
The heat got to me but it was a good day. Got out of it exactly what
I needed. More later.
The heat got to me but it was a good day. Got out of it exactly what
I needed. More later.
Skip Cronin
Sales Manager
eSellerate
Sent from my iPhone
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Be Careful What You Wish For
When I first saw the date for the Heartland Series Shawnee Mission Six Hour race, I was pumped. It seemed the perfect chance to check fitness and try any experimental tactics or equipment before 9 Mile.
Earlier in the week, I shot Cameron a quick email asking for an overview of what the trail holds and an idea of what gearing he might recommend. While the gearing was a non-issue, it was the statement that the trail is "rocky, really rocky" that got my attention.
I've commented more times than people have probably cared to read that it's that kind of riding that is exactly what I need. So, while I am a little nervous about a trail I have never seen, it's also exactly what I wished for.
I'll still be conducting some trials as well, but if six hours at Shawnee Mission smooths out the bumps in my mental game, I'm all in.
Earlier in the week, I shot Cameron a quick email asking for an overview of what the trail holds and an idea of what gearing he might recommend. While the gearing was a non-issue, it was the statement that the trail is "rocky, really rocky" that got my attention.
I've commented more times than people have probably cared to read that it's that kind of riding that is exactly what I need. So, while I am a little nervous about a trail I have never seen, it's also exactly what I wished for.
I'll still be conducting some trials as well, but if six hours at Shawnee Mission smooths out the bumps in my mental game, I'm all in.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Conversational
It's not always about dropping the hammer. Corey, Jeff and I rolled South for a little trip down the Homestead Trail tonight. A headwind kept the conversation minimal on the way out, but as we turned back and sound decided to carry, we jumped into what I think of as our usual mode of operation.
July meant the Tour and doping coversations. Conspiracy, circumstance and pseudo-science, all of which circled the drain and ended (as it always does with the three of us) with a 2 to 1 vote against the hero in yellow.
We also turned to a quick discussion of 9 Mile and the fella worried about my decision to run a rigid fork again this year. Despite assurances that I have a plan, the concerned remained but conversation ended, more (I think) from them knowing that I won't change my mind more than anything else.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Tourette's
I paid a visit to Branched Oak today to find it as overgrown as I have ever seen it. Kris was out working on the trail and a few adventure racers were making their way around the trails. No one had a machette, but it would have been helpful.
Bushwacking or Bikewacking
Duck!!
In the end, it was a cross between trail maintence, mountain biking and time spent wondering how many ticks I'd carry out. I haven't found any so far, but I'm not terribly confident I'm in the clear yet.
Bushwacking or BikewackingI decided to at least make a pass or two around the trails to see if there was any point to trying to run some circuits. On a climb near the West side, I came around a turn "in full cry" (I love Phil Ligget) and was dismounted by a low limb. No harm, but feeling foul so I removed the offender for the next person through.
Duck!!In the end, it was a cross between trail maintence, mountain biking and time spent wondering how many ticks I'd carry out. I haven't found any so far, but I'm not terribly confident I'm in the clear yet.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
"Thank You, Sir. May I Have Another?"
Despite having a bird dive-bomb my helmet and an eighteen wheeler wander over the rumble strip in my direction, it was another good day on the bike. Good miles, good fitness, good times.
Taking a moment...
Taking a moment...Friday, July 11, 2008
It's Live!!!!!!
Little kids need Snappy Caps too.The Snappy Caps site has needed some upgrading for a while and thanks to MOD and Realm Designs we have a new reworked site. Please take a look. It looks awesome. Thanks Mark!
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
And I Call This...
The Chopper Reid
This is Snob.
Snob's had two straight posts about facial hair.
Harden the fuck up, Snob.
Monday, July 07, 2008
Friday, July 04, 2008
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Point It North
The last two days in the saddle have been markedly different. Monday was just a short exploration, shoulder searching roads off of M-22 and finding myself in Manistee before I knew it.
The more you know...
If you're going to name a town, go strong.
I found myself turned into a nature photog for much of the ride. Crystal Lake throwing me a curve as I wondered by a huge body of water was on my right and not my left. The tunnel like route M-22 takes leaving the lake feet away on your right and a cliff climbing up to your left.
Crystal Lake
The Sleeping Bear popped up immediately after the lake and I felt that smile of 'getting somewhere' creep up on my face. A nicely wide shoulder still offering a pathway to go further and see what's around the next bend.
Middle of Somewhere
A Quick Openning in the Trees
The day in Cliff's Notes.
The more you know... Yesterday, I set my sights North again. M-22 was unknown to me beyond Frankfort but the call of Sleeping Bears was too strong of a draw to be ignored. Armed with two pb&j sandwiches, I explored. Rolling roads and small beach fronts towns gave way to tunnels of forest and hills which gave that optical illusion and you are always riding slightly downhill.
If you're going to name a town, go strong.I found myself turned into a nature photog for much of the ride. Crystal Lake throwing me a curve as I wondered by a huge body of water was on my right and not my left. The tunnel like route M-22 takes leaving the lake feet away on your right and a cliff climbing up to your left.
Crystal LakeThe Sleeping Bear popped up immediately after the lake and I felt that smile of 'getting somewhere' creep up on my face. A nicely wide shoulder still offering a pathway to go further and see what's around the next bend.
Middle of Somewhere
A Quick Openning in the TreesIn the end, time closed out the day. The mind was ready to ride into the UP but this trip isn't just about riding and I spun back to return to Onekama. Along the way, I learned that the hills closest to Portage Point are the most brutal climbs I have found to date and they hurt to come back over. I had a mantra ticking out the cadence needed to crest, but that's for another time.
Drive, it seems, remains a constant.
The day in Cliff's Notes.Sunday, June 29, 2008
Just Let Go
Over the past couple of years, I've found my ability to simply relax eroding away. It seems, there is always something. Something to consider, analyze, go after. On the bike, off the bike; drive on, grind it out. Get past it, move forward, get better.
As we neared our vacation, my inability to let things go become a discussion and I started to "work to relax." Building lists, making plans; settle into and have on hand. Then we arrived and I couldn't sleep and stared at the lake and the gears turned and turned and turned.
Speaking of gears...
Short and painfully sweet.
And for miles, there was nothing but what was to be taken in. I rolled along near Michigan's coast, catching details, but thinking of nothing. No office, no timelines, no races, no hitting rock bottom. Nothing.
"Free."
The horizonal line just above the road is Lake Michigan
Feeling good and feeling the road
This begs a lot of questions...
I'll take that with sprinkles
As we neared our vacation, my inability to let things go become a discussion and I started to "work to relax." Building lists, making plans; settle into and have on hand. Then we arrived and I couldn't sleep and stared at the lake and the gears turned and turned and turned.
Speaking of gears...I opened the day with espresso and running sand dunes; lifting and playing with kids on the beach. We took a break and I opened 'Bright Shiny Morning' by James Frey. Closing it after a few chapters, I chatted with my brother-in-law. Felt the restlessness creep back in and tapped my feet. Let out a sigh. Mrs. Snob came up behind me, gently squeezed my shoulders and said, "You should go ride."
Harriet Quimby, whose son went on to become...
M-22 is a scenic route up the western side of Michigan, but for the first block of miles all I could wonder was why I couldn't be easy. Glide. Coast.
But soon, my mind was back on the bike. Remembering how to shift. Feeling the legs warm and begin to roll. For a time, I thought two weeks ahead, and then four. But even that started to break apart and fall away.
Short and painfully sweet.And for miles, there was nothing but what was to be taken in. I rolled along near Michigan's coast, catching details, but thinking of nothing. No office, no timelines, no races, no hitting rock bottom. Nothing.
"Free."When the weather started rolling in, I didn't notice and when I did, I really didn't care. M-22 to M-168 and just the desire to keep rolling, stay empty, stay nothing.
The horizonal line just above the road is Lake MichiganThe movement of the clouds finally made me spin South. The rolling cold wind a wake up to get back. Not to head back, but get back to Susan and the kids. The pace picked up as I decided to race the weather home. Spend the energy and finally, just relax.
Feeling good and feeling the roadAgain, my thoughts stayed away from the bike and with a smile and a destination, I road home with my eyes to the sky.
This begs a lot of questions...I lost my race with the weather, but feel all the better for it. I predict an easy sleep tonight and an ease to the rest of the week.
I'll take that with sprinklesSaturday, June 28, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Next Item Up for Bids
Even though a bit of buzz is starting to creep across cyberspace regarding 9 Mile (and rightfully so), I'm still working to figure out what in the world I'll spend time obsessing about before then.
The Heartland Shawnee Mission Park 6 Hour race looks ripe for over-analysis.
With the race two weeks before 9 Mile and the BKB IF already feeling a lack of love this year, call it a T.R.I.P. session, call it good prep for Wisco, but make sure to call it a good time.
The Heartland Shawnee Mission Park 6 Hour race looks ripe for over-analysis.
With the race two weeks before 9 Mile and the BKB IF already feeling a lack of love this year, call it a T.R.I.P. session, call it good prep for Wisco, but make sure to call it a good time.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Attention All Hipsters
Look for the Snappy Caps ad in the July 1 issue of Urban Velo.
(The magazine is published in black and white.)
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Washed Up and Out
With a week (weak?) restart on the bike post-San Francisco, Saturday morning found me spent and slowly stepping down the stairs in fatigue on my way to the morning's espresso. With gear inches on the fixie Niner in the very high seventies and an average of three hours on the bikes most days, I was wondering if it might make sense to stick to yoga and yard work.
Instead, I decided to jump on the Niner again and head South to see if I could sneak through Wilderness for a T.R.I.P session. Wishful thinking. I started to drop in off the Jamaica North, only to stop short due to a downed limb. I was immediately swarmed (swarmed is not an exaggeration) by a horde of mosquitoes, turned and ran the bike back to the trail. I probably looked like I was trying to put out a fire on my skin.
I turned back North and came across the washout below. We'll be in recovery mode for a while.
Instead, I decided to jump on the Niner again and head South to see if I could sneak through Wilderness for a T.R.I.P session. Wishful thinking. I started to drop in off the Jamaica North, only to stop short due to a downed limb. I was immediately swarmed (swarmed is not an exaggeration) by a horde of mosquitoes, turned and ran the bike back to the trail. I probably looked like I was trying to put out a fire on my skin.
I turned back North and came across the washout below. We'll be in recovery mode for a while.
I did end up dropping into the Wilderness hiker side due to a detour on the Jamaica. As you might expect, it's torn to shreds and you're riding water as much as you're on dirt. I rationalized that it was so far gone, I wasn't really adding to the damage and followed the trail back out to the Jamaica.
Aimless, with the legs already slow to roll over, I wound my way to downtown and stopped into MWC. Eric was in the middle of providing a hipster assist to a college kid looking for a fixie. Eric wasn't saying much though, that kid was full of internet knowledge. Eric put it well.
"We're not bummed on it, but what do you say to that?"
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Joy in Overkill
Over the past few days, I was lucky enough to have Sam consider joining Johnny as my support for 9 Mile. First we teamed up as John's wedding party; now we'd be set to kill it for 24hrs. I considered the planets alligned. John then hit me with the following, which sums it all up perfectly:
"So, just to put this out there and to make sure we’re all on the same page; you are going to have over twenty years of experience from the highest quality mechanics for a bike with no suspension and one gear.
-Johnny"
Well... Yeah.
Now if we can just find a street curb in the forest to sit and drink on, we'll achieve our own sort of punk bicycle nirvana.
"So, just to put this out there and to make sure we’re all on the same page; you are going to have over twenty years of experience from the highest quality mechanics for a bike with no suspension and one gear.
-Johnny"
Well... Yeah.
Now if we can just find a street curb in the forest to sit and drink on, we'll achieve our own sort of punk bicycle nirvana.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Starting the T.R.I.P
At some point during each of the last few years I have gotten frustrated with myself over my rodeo clown like style in technical single track and specifically riding rock sections. This became a mild obsession for me over the winter and into early spring. I found myself wondering if I should take a week off and simply go ride out West or go to Landahl and ride lap after lap.
A few weeks ago I was redundantly dancing over all over the subject again when, without thinking it through, I looked up at Mrs. Snob and said, "You know, what I need is a Technical Riding Improvement Plan."
She grinned a smart ass grin and replied, "You mean a 'T.R.I.P?"
"Ugh... yeah..."
Then a few days later, Sam was over and I started relaying the story above. As soon as I said 'technical riding improvement plan, I got called out again. "Like a 'T.R.I.P?"
Damn... nothing like being called out twice on the same boneheaded comment.
So now, I'm rolling with the goofball acronym like Abe Lincoln wrote it and H.L. Mencken approved it. Despite the rain (and currently hearing thunder outside), I'll be eyeing less gravel and more dirt as often as possible for the rest of the year.
The T.R.I.P. (also available in corn flower blue).
A few weeks ago I was redundantly dancing over all over the subject again when, without thinking it through, I looked up at Mrs. Snob and said, "You know, what I need is a Technical Riding Improvement Plan."
She grinned a smart ass grin and replied, "You mean a 'T.R.I.P?"
"Ugh... yeah..."
Then a few days later, Sam was over and I started relaying the story above. As soon as I said 'technical riding improvement plan, I got called out again. "Like a 'T.R.I.P?"
Damn... nothing like being called out twice on the same boneheaded comment.
So now, I'm rolling with the goofball acronym like Abe Lincoln wrote it and H.L. Mencken approved it. Despite the rain (and currently hearing thunder outside), I'll be eyeing less gravel and more dirt as often as possible for the rest of the year.
The T.R.I.P. (also available in corn flower blue).
Saturday, June 14, 2008
If You're Gonna Get Delayed...
get delayed again...
You might as well hang out here...
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Assorted Snobbery: The Cliches of San Francisco
Airport. Delay. Waiting. Waiting. Plane. Fugazi reprieve. Impatience. Arrival. Cabbie. Downtown. The Powell. Stinking Rose. Cliches. Room 507. Open windows. Street car bells. Shouts. Sirens. More Cliches. Morning. Weak coffee.
Look kids. ..
A cliche I can live with.
Look kids. ..
A cliche I can live with.Friday, June 06, 2008
Hunting Pilgrims without a Musket
The mid-June travel plan starts again today, but this time with a cap snappin' twist. Heading up to Minneapolis to ring in the wedding of Johnny and Carrie. Considering I'd catch bullets for the guy, reading Rilke is certainly all good in the hood.
As the sad kids say, "I Will Possess Your Heart."
Then it's of to San Francisco again to tweet and greet with the "I heart Apple" crowd. I always enjoy the trip, but often find myself thinking about things such as the below as opposed to how great the latest this-that-and several others really are. Take it to the streets.
As the sad kids say, "I Will Possess Your Heart."Then it's of to San Francisco again to tweet and greet with the "I heart Apple" crowd. I always enjoy the trip, but often find myself thinking about things such as the below as opposed to how great the latest this-that-and several others really are. Take it to the streets.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Do You Have a Snappy Cap Yet?
Sonny models one of the new caps.There are some new caps recently added to the online store.
The images in the online store are not the best, but you can see much better ones like this one in the Gallery.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Dirty Kanza: Out of Step
Jeff Bonsall has to be sick of me...
...and Mike Beck can't be too far behind.
The three of us killed off a fun and somewhat strange Dirty Kanza 200 together, with Jeff and I closing out the final 100 together and Mike joining us for the last 70 or so. Anyone who will put up with my antics for that amount of time deserves a 'thank you' so thanks fellas.
The start of the day should have told me it might be a day of misadventures. As we gathered under the threat of thunderstorms, I pulled my camera out to take some shots of our extended Lincoln crew and other gravel grinder friendlies, only to be greeted by "No Memory Card" on the screen. Ah, genius.
The Heartland guys announced that they were considering delaying the race for two hours due to storms and two things instantly popped into my mind. 'I don't have the right lights for that' and 'Hey, we have time to get espresso.' In fact, Jeff and I were a touch disappointed once Craig from Heartland came out and said we were rolling on time. Such is the nature of addiction.
The roll out at DK is something I thoroughly enjoy. As the course was nearly identical from last year, we went from spinning through town to pulling off onto a semi-rough gravel road; a line of racers in each smoothed out tire track. This year, Cameron, Corey and I had been talking right as we were hitting the gravel and Cam pulled his glasses off of the back of his helmet and put them on. "Must be game time," I said to Corey with a smile.
The race stayed together for a few more miles, but then a couple of hills hit and things started to split. I was just off the back of the lead group and found myself riding with Ben Thorton who rides for SoulCraft and was also riding a single speed. We each dangled off the back at a slightly different paces but after finding ourselves too spun out on some slight downhills to stay with the group ended up riding together. It was pretty clear Ben was a workhorse and fairly interesting to talk to and we were starting to form an unspoken partnership. Unfortunately for both of us, our partnership failed to included good navigation in its terms of agreement. Just before the first checkpoint, we turned South a mile too early after seeing flagging that must have had nothing to do with the race. It was the usual story of riding, losing confidence that you are on the right path, then coming to the depressing decision that you need to turn back. Three or four miles later we were back on course and moving back through the field.
As we hit the first checkpoint, Ben asked me if I needed anything before we went, which I took as a great sign for the rest of the race. I was back to my 'go light' strategy for this race which meant I had three bottles that I would need to refill at each stop. It's a great plan if the timing works and you don't get lost or lose time in some other way...
Ben and I rolled out of the CP and were working our way through the field when we again blew a turn. We had caught up to another single speeder name Dustin who I had vaguely recognized from last year. As we climbed a small incline, Ben rode forward, I was just back from him and Dustin slowly faded back. It turned out, he had realized our mistake. Moments later I looked back to see a small speck on top of a hill turning around. A quick look at the map and the sun told me we were heading South and again making a mess of things. I yelled for Ben, but he couldn't hear me so I spun back around and went back to find the yellow brick road.
From there, I just kept working my way back up the field. Generally, I take pride in navigation and just simply paying attention, but had now blown it twice. That, combined with the fact I felt strong but knew I was wasting it left me seeing red for a while. Ben was obviously feeling the same because he caught back up to me at the end of a climb and kept powering. We exchanged comments of frustration. I made sure to tell him I had yelled for him but I think he too was in the mode where anger is an energy and kept pressing forward.
Shortly afterward, I found myself passing Jeff. Still seeing a bit of red, I said 'Hi", muttered something about being a navigational jackass and kept churning. A few minutes later, I felt like a douche-bag for not saying more.
I finally snapped back to it when I ran out of water. It was still far enough away from Cottonwood Falls that I really needed more. Last year, Corey and I had stopped with Cameron to get water from a house off the road. It worked then. It would work here. Or, so I thought. The spicket didn't give a drop. I tried another house and got another dry spicket. "It's like a ghost town," I thought and took off again deciding not to worry about water until the Checkpoint. I felt a little crampy on arrival, but thought a smart pit stop would take care of it.
I tried to be pretty efficient, but polite to the race organizers and volunteers. Debbie Sue was there lending a hand and let me use her phone for a quick check-in to Mrs. Snob as I had no service. Jeff rolled up in good fashion and we decided to roll out together. I tried to rehydrate as Jeff gathered what he needed for the third leg and we were off in 3rd and 4th for the SS category and around 20th overall.
Jeff commented early that he would understand if I wanted to take off. I thought I would see if the crampy feeling subsided and ride with a friend for a while. I still felt very good and a part of me still wanted to see how many people I could catch. Another part of me simply felt happy for knowing I was back after a TransIowa where I felt pretty sub par. The only thing to gain was 'places' so why not hang with Jeff.
Unfortunately, the muscle problems didn't hit me, they hit Jeff. Near the mid-center of his back, muscles near his ribs were knotting up. Anytime he went to breathe hard, he was getting sharp pains and could only take shallow breaths. Nothing anyone wants to feel, let along a single-speeder who needs to crank it up the climbs.
We pushed on with Jeff stopping to stretch from time to time. I started making jokes to try to lighten the mood and offered him a massage by holding up my hands, wiggling my fingers and offering him the "Magic Touch."
Just beyond half way through the 3rd section, Mike Beck caught up to us. He was rocking the steady strong pace and looking good. A perfect third stooge to ride with.
As we neared the end of the first loop, we stopped at the base of a difficult, steep climb. Jeff seemed pretty down, but did let me give him 'the bad touch' and I tried to work the knots out of his back. I even considered tying two tubes together for a tow, but he didn't need it. We worked the climb like champs and cruised a long paved downhill back toward Cottonwood Falls. Along the way, I was trying to come up with some good comedic material to brighten Jeff's mood, including screaming out, "Death, you are my bitch lover!!" It may have been more annoying than anything else, but my thought was that when you feel like shit, often anything helps.
Without a hitch, we rolled out for the last section and continued to ride, chat and have a good time. Over the last ten miles, Jeff hit a second wind and freaking dropped the hammer. I was riding beside him and thinking 'damn man, you're back in full force and putting the hurt on me.'
The three of us crossed the line, had some cowbells handed to us and shared smiles and handshakes with the Heartland guys and MG and Corey, who had great rides of their own (and blogs to tell the tale). MW and Butch weren't long to follow and the usual suspects enjoyed another successful Kanza.
To be blunt about it, I love this race. The logistics, the scenery, the people, banging across jagged rocks on cross tires, dodging cows, watching dung beetles roll balls across the road, all of it.
...and Mike Beck can't be too far behind.
The three of us killed off a fun and somewhat strange Dirty Kanza 200 together, with Jeff and I closing out the final 100 together and Mike joining us for the last 70 or so. Anyone who will put up with my antics for that amount of time deserves a 'thank you' so thanks fellas.
The start of the day should have told me it might be a day of misadventures. As we gathered under the threat of thunderstorms, I pulled my camera out to take some shots of our extended Lincoln crew and other gravel grinder friendlies, only to be greeted by "No Memory Card" on the screen. Ah, genius.
The Heartland guys announced that they were considering delaying the race for two hours due to storms and two things instantly popped into my mind. 'I don't have the right lights for that' and 'Hey, we have time to get espresso.' In fact, Jeff and I were a touch disappointed once Craig from Heartland came out and said we were rolling on time. Such is the nature of addiction.
The roll out at DK is something I thoroughly enjoy. As the course was nearly identical from last year, we went from spinning through town to pulling off onto a semi-rough gravel road; a line of racers in each smoothed out tire track. This year, Cameron, Corey and I had been talking right as we were hitting the gravel and Cam pulled his glasses off of the back of his helmet and put them on. "Must be game time," I said to Corey with a smile.
The race stayed together for a few more miles, but then a couple of hills hit and things started to split. I was just off the back of the lead group and found myself riding with Ben Thorton who rides for SoulCraft and was also riding a single speed. We each dangled off the back at a slightly different paces but after finding ourselves too spun out on some slight downhills to stay with the group ended up riding together. It was pretty clear Ben was a workhorse and fairly interesting to talk to and we were starting to form an unspoken partnership. Unfortunately for both of us, our partnership failed to included good navigation in its terms of agreement. Just before the first checkpoint, we turned South a mile too early after seeing flagging that must have had nothing to do with the race. It was the usual story of riding, losing confidence that you are on the right path, then coming to the depressing decision that you need to turn back. Three or four miles later we were back on course and moving back through the field.
As we hit the first checkpoint, Ben asked me if I needed anything before we went, which I took as a great sign for the rest of the race. I was back to my 'go light' strategy for this race which meant I had three bottles that I would need to refill at each stop. It's a great plan if the timing works and you don't get lost or lose time in some other way...
Ben and I rolled out of the CP and were working our way through the field when we again blew a turn. We had caught up to another single speeder name Dustin who I had vaguely recognized from last year. As we climbed a small incline, Ben rode forward, I was just back from him and Dustin slowly faded back. It turned out, he had realized our mistake. Moments later I looked back to see a small speck on top of a hill turning around. A quick look at the map and the sun told me we were heading South and again making a mess of things. I yelled for Ben, but he couldn't hear me so I spun back around and went back to find the yellow brick road.
From there, I just kept working my way back up the field. Generally, I take pride in navigation and just simply paying attention, but had now blown it twice. That, combined with the fact I felt strong but knew I was wasting it left me seeing red for a while. Ben was obviously feeling the same because he caught back up to me at the end of a climb and kept powering. We exchanged comments of frustration. I made sure to tell him I had yelled for him but I think he too was in the mode where anger is an energy and kept pressing forward.
Shortly afterward, I found myself passing Jeff. Still seeing a bit of red, I said 'Hi", muttered something about being a navigational jackass and kept churning. A few minutes later, I felt like a douche-bag for not saying more.
I finally snapped back to it when I ran out of water. It was still far enough away from Cottonwood Falls that I really needed more. Last year, Corey and I had stopped with Cameron to get water from a house off the road. It worked then. It would work here. Or, so I thought. The spicket didn't give a drop. I tried another house and got another dry spicket. "It's like a ghost town," I thought and took off again deciding not to worry about water until the Checkpoint. I felt a little crampy on arrival, but thought a smart pit stop would take care of it.
I tried to be pretty efficient, but polite to the race organizers and volunteers. Debbie Sue was there lending a hand and let me use her phone for a quick check-in to Mrs. Snob as I had no service. Jeff rolled up in good fashion and we decided to roll out together. I tried to rehydrate as Jeff gathered what he needed for the third leg and we were off in 3rd and 4th for the SS category and around 20th overall.
Jeff commented early that he would understand if I wanted to take off. I thought I would see if the crampy feeling subsided and ride with a friend for a while. I still felt very good and a part of me still wanted to see how many people I could catch. Another part of me simply felt happy for knowing I was back after a TransIowa where I felt pretty sub par. The only thing to gain was 'places' so why not hang with Jeff.
Unfortunately, the muscle problems didn't hit me, they hit Jeff. Near the mid-center of his back, muscles near his ribs were knotting up. Anytime he went to breathe hard, he was getting sharp pains and could only take shallow breaths. Nothing anyone wants to feel, let along a single-speeder who needs to crank it up the climbs.
We pushed on with Jeff stopping to stretch from time to time. I started making jokes to try to lighten the mood and offered him a massage by holding up my hands, wiggling my fingers and offering him the "Magic Touch."
Just beyond half way through the 3rd section, Mike Beck caught up to us. He was rocking the steady strong pace and looking good. A perfect third stooge to ride with.
As we neared the end of the first loop, we stopped at the base of a difficult, steep climb. Jeff seemed pretty down, but did let me give him 'the bad touch' and I tried to work the knots out of his back. I even considered tying two tubes together for a tow, but he didn't need it. We worked the climb like champs and cruised a long paved downhill back toward Cottonwood Falls. Along the way, I was trying to come up with some good comedic material to brighten Jeff's mood, including screaming out, "Death, you are my bitch lover!!" It may have been more annoying than anything else, but my thought was that when you feel like shit, often anything helps.
Without a hitch, we rolled out for the last section and continued to ride, chat and have a good time. Over the last ten miles, Jeff hit a second wind and freaking dropped the hammer. I was riding beside him and thinking 'damn man, you're back in full force and putting the hurt on me.'
The three of us crossed the line, had some cowbells handed to us and shared smiles and handshakes with the Heartland guys and MG and Corey, who had great rides of their own (and blogs to tell the tale). MW and Butch weren't long to follow and the usual suspects enjoyed another successful Kanza.
To be blunt about it, I love this race. The logistics, the scenery, the people, banging across jagged rocks on cross tires, dodging cows, watching dung beetles roll balls across the road, all of it.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Update #2
I just talked to Skip. He had just finished at around 11pm. He got second in the Single Speed catagory. Jeff Bonsall battled bad back pain to get 3rd in the Single Speed catagory. Skip knew that Cameron Chambers won the whole thing and thought that Matt Gersib had gotten 5th overall and that Corey, despite having had 8 flats throughout the race, came in 7th.
That was all that Skip knew. I'm sure he will report in with more information in the morning.
Mrs. Snob
That was all that Skip knew. I'm sure he will report in with more information in the morning.
Mrs. Snob
Dirty Kanza Update- I think.
In what amounted to a maybe 30 second phone call from Skip, I will try to recap what I think he said.
He and Jeff B. were half way done (@1:15pm). Skip had been riding with the lead Single Speed rider but he/they? had taken a few wrong turns and added an additional 10 miles to the route. Skip reported he felt really good and strong.
Corey has had 4 flats.
Skip thought Matt G was still up with the lead group. He didn't know where Butch or Matt W. were.
I know that is not much of an update. I hadn't even expected to hear from him at all.
Mrs. Snob
He and Jeff B. were half way done (@1:15pm). Skip had been riding with the lead Single Speed rider but he/they? had taken a few wrong turns and added an additional 10 miles to the route. Skip reported he felt really good and strong.
Corey has had 4 flats.
Skip thought Matt G was still up with the lead group. He didn't know where Butch or Matt W. were.
I know that is not much of an update. I hadn't even expected to hear from him at all.
Mrs. Snob
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