Another One Bites the Dust

Saw it coming but didn't quite make it home.

This...

... Is the scotch my buddy Matt brought into my office. Happy Friday.

The Backward Slide

One on the many time proven peculiarities of my personality is the ability to pass judgement against myself and then do everything in my power to prove myself wrong (and therefore be wrong in the end, no matter what the result).

Case in point:  My upcoming trip to Europe. 

Somewhere during the return trip from Arkansas, likely nestled somewhere between conversations about Corey's swollen knees and D St's EW(TBD) rides, we realized that the next event on our shared horizon is TransIowa.  

Unfortunately, my lead up to gravel's longest day includes a week spent in Europe for work and, at least during the pessimistic post-script to Ouachita, therefore a week without mileage.  Last year it was illness, this year, I had decided, would be travel which colluded to damper the day.

Never mind the joy of travel or the fact I will be going to the Amstel Gold race.  Let's just focus on the fact that riding miles will go to hell, shall we?

Of course, like with any largely fictitious problem, the solution was already being put into place as I enumerated the "problems."  And, as I was typing this in fact, helpful souls were already extending a hand.  

Hopefully, the mileage will stay intact, the blog will highlight pictures from the English countryside and I can suppress the number of challenges I invent to get in my way.  

Riding ~350 miles of gravel should be challenge enough.

Bigfoot Lives in Arkansas!!

The MonsterQuest team has been sent to investigate.

Enter SuperFan

After pre-riding the beginning of the Ouachita Challenge on Saturday, my main concern was to start conservatively enough not to blow sky high in the first few miles of the race.  So, instead of spinning like a hamster on crack, I was content to let the typical gap form between the single speeds and geared guys, with the idea of cracking things up gradually once the road turned up.

Initially, things went well.  I chatted a bit with Josh P (who rode very well) then started working my way forward up, trying to stay controlled even when standing out of the saddle on the steeper sections of the initial climbs.

After bobbling when a limb hit me in the face and having to then push the bike to the top, I got my rhythm,  tucked in with a couple of more singles and started weaving my way forward again.

On the fist slightly sustained downhill, the side of the trail was littered with guys already working to change flats when I found myself joining them.  Suddenly there was that familiar sound of air and Stan's releasing from my rear tire.  

For a moment, the Stan's caught and some guy said, "Hey, that sealed fast."  Of course, then it started spraying again and I was off on the side of the trail working toward a diagnosis.  I'd managed to gash the center of my tire in a way that created three little triangular flaps of rubber that the Stan's could never seal together.  I through a tube in, which simply pushed out of the tired and, after it lasted about thirty seconds, resigned myself to a seven mile race.

After walking out with a guy who was having the same experience himself and getting a ride back to the race start, I grabbed a map and went to find Corey at the second feed station.  

The guys running the station were dressed for fun with Pedro, an ape, a banana and other costumes were worn with an eye on fun.  They topped all of that though with the way they supported the riders.  After the lead rider came through, Cameron cruised in minutes later and, while I went to somehow assist, the boys at the checkpoint had him covered and, though an Ergon rider came in after Cam and left before him, Cam seemed much more prepared when he left.  

Rider's came though at a regular tick and I was just talking about Corey to a guy in a marching band costume when here he came.  Corey looked like he was just out for a ride, all smiles, fresh and ready to keep moving.  I gave him the proverbial shove off and took off to find the next feed zone.

After reaffirming that the Prius isn't exactly an off-vehicle, I skipped to the final feed-zone and chatted with a local volunteer for a few hours while I waited for folks to come through.  We were sitting at a point where riders rode off of gravel and up into the last section of single track.  It was interesting to watch tired riders handle what would normally be an easy transition to clean.  There was a lot of stopping and starting until the leaders of the 80 mile race rolled through.

The leader came through looking fresh and, while I expected riders to continue to come through, it was 20 minutes until another 80 mile rider came through.  Cam shot through in 3rd, then I played a waiting game for Corey.  Unfortunately, he'd fallen back from seventh after a bad crash.  He was followed closely by the 360 guys who were rocking and seemed to be having a great time.  

From there it was back to the start line and prep for the ride home.  Corey rode a great race.  After he crossed the line, he revealed knees that were swollen to the point where it looked like his knee caps were three or four times there normal size.  In fact, he spent most of the ride back with a bag of ice across both knees.

Though I'd personally like a mulligan, it was a solid trip and I had a good time watching Corey and the KC crew ride so well.  Next time, I may just have to join them.

Corey in 12th thru last CP

He said he had a bad crash earlier and had lost some spots as a
result. Cam was in third and two other 360 guys were just behind
Corey and looking strong.

Cam 3rd, Corey 7th leaving CP 2

Seething

I made it about seven miles, then everything went sideways. Time to
become Corey Godfrey super-fan.

The Perfect Number

Corey and I prerode the race start today and, in short, it's going to
hurt.

As Corey and I spun the road heading toward the gravel roads which
marked the beginning of the meaningful part of the course, I commented
that the gear I had might not be enough. However, once we hit the
gravel and neared the ATV trails, I knew I could let go of that idea.

The road kicked up pretty hard and my legs were not happy. From the
things rolled their way skyward while we bounced off rocks all along
the way.

We dipped into some single track to take us back and somewhere along
the my legs relaxed, I remembered how to ride a mountain bike and I
started looking forward to tomorrow.

It's still gonna hurt though. (and Mr Godfrey looks damn strong.)

Breakfast in Joplin

Corey and I rolled down to Joplin, MO last night on our way to Mena,
AR and Ouachita. After a brief David Lynch-like cultural event at a
convenience store, we settled in with some old school rap and made
great time. Thanks to all for the calls and emailed well wishes. A
few more ours and it's time for a pre-ride.

So, There's This Ride I Know...

Rapha has updated the Continental Calling rides and hosts for their summer tour of the US.

Your friends have some rides to share with you (and many of you in the 402 have ridden one of them.)

Ready

Well, Sam made sure the bike is ready. The rest is tbd.

What? What Time Is It?

Suddenly, the impending season seems very real.  Like getting engrossed in something only to discover that hours have moved by, the preseason has seemed to become the race season overnight.

With Ouachita looming this weekend, I am in that proverbial position of wondering exactly how things might turn out.  The only thing that seems certain is that I'm a bit lighter and that packing the things needed to race is nearly automatic.

With Sam readying the BKB IF for action, my often used tactic of showing up with a creaking chain is probably out the door so I will have to find some other reason to be worried right before the ball drops on 80 miles of Arkansas fun.

I think the biggest difference between my ride this year and almost every other in years past is my fork.  I'll be running suspension for Ouachita.  I'm actually feeling mixed emotions on the idea.  Sam's point, "You should save your hands for the bigger races later in year."

True... but I'm not sure I'll like it.  We'll see soon enough.

39x16 Meets 38x17

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday.  Weather, perfect.  Gravel, dry.  Wind, a bit.  Sam and I rolled for a touch under four on our respective singles today.  Sam decided to out mash me with a 39x16, while I took baby steps with the 38x17.  For much of the ride, I hadn't taken notice of the difference but finally, as Sam pedaled by me through the bottom of a roller as I waiting to be able to spin, I realized the score.

Fork in Action

"What are you running?"

"39x16."

"Oh... well that explains it."

"Yeah, I used to live with Tony Wilhelm, so it's all good."

On a related note... Don't look now.

Are You Thinking What I'm Thinking?

Apparently, a few people were.

After a morning spent supporting Mrs. Snob through her first running event, then watching Seven battle it out soccer style, I took the Fixed Niner to the park in order to remove some of riding skill rust prior to Ouachita next weekend.

With the trees providing a nice break from another Nebraska Spring wind and the sun pushing through in the afternoon, it was easy to push the tempo occasionally, visibility permitting, and see how the legs feel about racing next weekend.  (I am not sure they're down.)

Along the way, I saw Kevin B, Jay, MW and few others at various times out rolling dirt as well.  

As Ferris would say, "If you have the means, I highly recommend it."

"I don't wanna stay at your party. I don't wanna talk with your friends..."

Lucky Thirteen

As in years Mrs. Snob and I have been married as of today.

I had planned to post one of my favorite pictures for a commemorative update.  The X-Maxx party at D St was in full swing and as Susan and I talked, me with a hat made of balloons upon my head, someone tried to snap a clandestine pic but I caught them out of the corner of my eye and tossed up the middle finger of destiny to ruin the shop.  The shot captures Susan just beginning to laugh and that smug look of satisfaction of a job well done.  Merry fucking Christmas...

... and Happy Anniversary.

She-Devil

Dude... Cute Derringer

As in, not bringing enough weapon for the job.

With the family schedule forcing an early rise today, I joined the D St congregation for the Sunday 8am ride.  Unfortunately, it didn't take long to realize that I wouldn't be riding with the crew very long.  As we headed South into a brisk headwind, I often found myself close to being spun out and knew that as we turned away from the resistance, I would hear the familiar clicks as everyone shifted and I would be off the back.

So, I checked the time on my phone and decided to give it an hour then go solo.  The hour itself was nice enough, I chatted with JP a bit, hung around a few different rear wheels and tried to remember how my NCAA bracket was fairing after yesterday.

Then it was a quick see-ya-later to Jesse and a turn onto gravel.  Next time, I think I'll show up with at least one less tooth on the back.  I probably should have known better anyway.  The derringer is a cute pistol, but I can't imagine it's the right tool for most jobs.

Flats, PB&J and Modern Technology

It was a good Saturday. I bet Corey has the long version.