Woosh

Yikes, what a week. I went for a ride on a mixed terrain of dirt/road/path via the mountain bike on Wednesday. Felt great! Mojo was shot into the system like a crack/coffee/meth enema via the saddle of Ti goodness and fat tires. These days it seems that my chamoised arse and aging brain does not care where I ride, but does care on which steed I ride. So for now I will continue to roll the fatty.

Putting out XXC #8 yesterday almost killed me. NOT due to the mag itself. That part rocked, but due to stupid shopping carts and shipping settings that were all jacked up. Took me ALLLLL day to figure out. ALLL DAY! Almost had a complete mental melt down. Wait, I'm pretty sure that happened ages ago. Spent all day un-showered and in the clothes I slept in the night before. I was as ripe as that old guy behind me in line at the bank (minus the smell of urine). BUT in the end I got it figured out, and the mag is out there.

I had mixed feelings about this issue's release due to the other web stresses, etc., I think it will be a day or two before I look at it with any sense of accomplishment. Right now I find myself thinking things like "not sure how many more of these I've got in me?" But then again I say that about things like racing too and it looks like I'm doing a Duo with my friend Plum Grove Pete at the 18 Hours Scouts Honor race on the 21&22. Should be a scene. I'm on the edge diving head first into an open pool of race/fitness/life suck and Pete is suffering with about every form of bronchial and flu like symptom known to modern man. But a fun course, and hanging out with him and Brad (racing solo) should cure me. Not sure about sick boy, but I'll be good.

Gotta split, mucho work to tidy up. And MAYBE squeeze some sort of workout in. Looking forward to tomorrow's Velo Zen Time.

Later.

Selling A Left One

I would sell my left nugget to get my Ride Chi back. I have not had good ride mentally or physically in a couple weeks or more. Last week I chucked two rides after just an hour in the saddle. Then Sunday was the 2 hour log vs. wheel cluster f*ck. There were no real improvements today.

The Campeon is back in the house with a new bottom bracket and no creak, so I was anxious to get out on the road with it and burn some steam off, along with a calorie or thousand. The ride started with about 200 yards on the rail trail before I take a right and head some climbs and to my road loop. I don't always go this way, but I knew the ride was about 40 miles from this point. Anyway I hit the pavement PDQ and as riser leading to the big climb started I shifted and nothing. The chain wouldn't move off the big ring. Curses! I powered easily enough up the small climb, made another right, started getting buzzed by motorists, went to shift again. NOTHING! Power, power, shift, clang! I "Schlecked" my chain!! FRIG!

While there were no Spaniards putting the hammer down and dropping me, there was a ton of cars wizzng by me as I cursed and muttered out of breath in the middle of the climb fumbling to get the chain on the ring. Done and off, I was anxious to get to the top of that god damned hill!

Next up some rolling downhills for a while. Good. Then I make another right onto a nice 2 mile gradual climb. CLANG! "Schlecked" again!! "F*ck it!" Turned around cruised down the hill, found a spot to hop back on the rail trail and pedaled back. Total ride time- about 40 minutes.

Now I know the rings and chain on the Campeon are ancient, worn, and need replaced badly so I have no one to blame but myself, but to be honest I was hating the ride. 10 minutes in I couldn't wait for it to be over. The sound the cars buzzing by was enraging me, the site of pavement made me want to just get off and walk. A bike in disrepair wasn't helping, nor was the thoughts of all the work I need to get done by the end of the week. But DAMN, the Bike Gods could throw me a damn bone already!! Have you ever had a ride and the body just felt "off." You're not sure why the ride sucked, it just did. Then a day or two later you're sick and you're like "ahhhhh, THAT'S why!" I keep praying that I'm sick, so I at least have an excuse!! I just feel like I have no power on the bike. Where the eph did it go??? I had it earlier in the year. I wasn't going to be winning any race, but I felt good on the bike.

But then this afternoon I was cleaning up my Mac's desktop and saw my PDF map of the mountains. I opened it and started seeing that this forest road went there, and that trail goes here, and that could be a cool ride option... and I could feel the mojo stirring. So even while my body is revolting, and thought of road miles make me want to take up power walking. Time on my mountain bike is still what I long for to get sorted. So this weekend I plan to seize my mojo back with some solo dirt time in the woods and mountains. EVEN if I had to part with that nugget to do so.

Later.

Seriously?

To break down the ride...

Scheduled to meet D-POW and (former) Roadie Aaron at the mountain at 8:30 a.m.

8:30- No D-POW or FRA.

8:37- I have to poop. BAD! Grab some wet wipes out of the car and head to the woods. Unleash Saturday Mexicana upon the forest floor, and get back to the xB before I can be caught with my chamois down.

8:50- Me thinks I'm being stood up.

8:55- Head up Camp Run Road, down Dead Guy and then climb up Auckerman. Made it 90% in the middle ring. I was sweating like a damn fool in the humid air.

Once to the top and Tunnel Road, the air had changed. It was breezy, less humid and you didn't have to be a freaking weather man to notice that there was something brewing.

Not wanting to give up yet, but knowing it would be coming, I did some descending, and some climbing on some dirt, then headed over to Mountain Streams Trail. Much of the trail is becoming grown over. Lack of use I suppose. I think in one part trees are actually starting to grow on the trail. Anyway, soon I was to the chunky rocky down hill portion of the trail and letting the saddle slap my nutz into a two numb ballz of nastyness.

Then...


I could not get a stick, I mean F*CKING LOG!! in my wheel like that if I tried. LOOK AT THAT!!!

10:40- continue on Mountain Streams. Think to myself how dry it is and enjoy the single track as much as I can knowing that I have at least one blown spoke.

10:55- Hit a nasty wet, muddy, horse piss/shit filled bog. Come to stand still. Dismount and feel the equine feecus enter the Sidis and fill my toes with germs of every sort. Grrrrrrr!!!

11:05- Back at the xB. Ride done. Not thrilled. But still got at nice workout in I suppose.

11:20- Stop at the Six Pack Shop. Fresh pepperoni rolls and a sixer of Raging Bitch to go please.

Done.

Got home, washed all the horse shit off. Saw D-POW left me a message about bailing on the ride due to his ongoing illness.

Maybe I should have bailed too? LOL!

EDIT: I did forget to mention that 5 minutes into my drive home the sky opened up and unleashed a some serious rain. I sort of figured it was coming though, and even though the Bike Gods may have THOUGHT they were helping me out with a mechanical issue to get me back to the car quicker, I really was figuring it out on my own.

Later.

Lacking

This week has been severely lacking in my normal rants and blathering. It is doubtful at best that my posts were missed. Ha!

Heading into the final week before XXC #8 is published so things have been nuts. On top of that I was in Week II of me being Mr. Mom and running out of steam. Once again I give props to anyone that is a single parent. Yikes!

I got a couple rides in, one a mountain bike road/rail trail ride, and two short, should have stayed at home rides in the woods. The first dirt ride had me with dead legs and a deader brain at Dubya-Oh Park, and the 2nd was just a good ride at Boyce on the Dos Niner that was only cut short by time and some frustration with a bald back tire in the mud (it seems that any rain that WPA may have got this week, must have fallen only on Boyce Park) and some very overgrown trails and wind fall.

Wifey is on her way home as I type, but will be a little late for me to take a trip to the mountains. So that will be delayed a day, and I will use today to work, do dad/husband/house stuff, and watch the Fat Andy do what will surely be an embarrassing attempt at winning the Tour (hope I'm wrong, but I AM realistic!).

Later.

The Wall (and hitting it)

I should have saved today's title for a better post. This one is pretty lame. If you see this title again in XXC or on the Chamois, it's 'cause the well ran dry (again) and I dig the title. Sorry.

OK, Monday I did the Tour Fan Treadmill Workout, and Tuesday I did a 2:20 mountain bike road ride. So today I thought I'd do an easy couple laps on the local park trails. Hmmm..... This is a bit wordy but the phrase "I feel like I may have never been on a mountain bike in my life and weigh about 398 pounds (give or take a pizza)" comes to mind. In other words- It sucked. Correction- I SUCKED. Just had nothing. I pedaled about 7 miles and said "f*ck it" and went home. Lame. Lame with a capital L and not just because it started a sentence, but but 'cause it sucked and was so lame it needs a capital letter. In fact (and this is for Montana) it needs ALL CAPS and is SUPER LAME.

Some days I'm not sure if I need a coach, a therapist, or both.

The boy is with his Pop tonight and Wifey is in another state/province/district/suck city. So I'm gonna go watch bike movies and get some mojo back in the loins. Yep, bike porn. No lube required.

Later.

Stage 15 Work Out: Booze and Speedos

I didn't ride yesterday. Had a ton of work to do and just didn't feel like taking the time to do one of the local loops. And the evening is out since I'm doing the solo parent gig again this week. So I killed two birds with one stone by watching the Tour and hitting the treadmill for an hour with the incline maxed.

To make the whole experience seem more real, I got totally drunk off my ass ('Wanna beer? It's 10 o'clock in the morning! Scotch?), put on some Euro Speedos and trotted along screaming "ALLEZ! ALLEZ! ALLEZ!!!" as I watched. Of course the alcohol killed the calorie burn, the Speedos chafed my thighs, and Andy dropped a chain, effectively loosing the Tour de France unless he pulls something special out of his bony Luxembourgian Ass on Thursday. FAIL.

Since I got a lot done yesterday, today was freed up to hit up some roads of varying surfaces on the El M. I wanted to use the Campeon today, but was in no mood to listen to a creaking bottom bracket for 2 hours, so I just whirled along on the mountain bike. No worries, a bike is a bike and I can suck at road riding I'm on a road bike or a mountain bike. I do plan to get the bike in the shop for some work tomorrow though.

ANOTHER dog incident today. Farm road, no one around. Here comes a dog running out of a field. Standing in the road barking at me. No collar, not tags, NOTHING. But, I will say he was a good dog. No snaps at me, and once I presented him with some simple pleas to let me by he moved over and let me pass. Good dog.

Nice 2.20 in the saddle, no dog bites, no hangover and no Speedo crotch issue.

Later.

PS- Just to be clear to anyone that didn't realize I was joking, there was NO alcohol involved with my morning on the treadmill, and NO I was not wearing a Speedo. I think Wifey hid it before she left for the week, knowing full well I would attempt something like this. Or wear it to the public pool to entice the lay-deeeze.

Sunday of Slack

Yesterday's 50 miler in the mountains burnt me out, so today there would be no riding for me. Of course D-POW was going down to Davis, WV to race the wha-vimm-ba race. F*cking overachievers! They do wonders for the self esteem.

So today was a non ride day, but still a bust ass day. Wifey was home for the weekend, but sadly is now off to Week II of dropping law knowledge in D.C.. Can't say enough how super proud I am to have a wife so smart, and savvy enough to show folks in the .gov/legal community what the eph to do, but I do sure do miss her, the 38s, and her mom skillz while shes' away. B-Man is hanging with Pappy-M and having a sleepover tonight, so that left me solo. Still no ride, or goofing off, but I sure did pump out some of the final pages for XXC Mag #8. Super geeked for the coming issue. Visually one of the best issues I've done. I owe that to some super skilled Pho-togs. Thanks!

Really enjoying this year's Tour de France. While I enjoy the Spring Classics (Capitalized? Not sure, but I'm saying 'yes.' 'Cause they rock) WAY more, and anything on dirt and gravel even way-er more (I love making up words), I'm still digging watching the Tour and the drama that comes with it. I have some random thoughts, read if you want, move along if you don't. It's your time.

Sucked to see so many riders go down in the opening days. I agree with many of the poundless lycra glad racers and say that venturing onto cobbles and narrow Belgium roads is great for the Spring Classics (yeah, I went with the caps), but the Tour IMHO should be left to the roads, the regular roads of France.

I continue to hate Versus coverage of the Tour. EuroSport coverage rocks. Instead of showing commercial after commercial, they just babble on and on about cycling. GASP!! It rocks! But, I will say I watch the Versus stuff too, because the video is better, AND you get to see commercials for that show The Daily Line. Not sure who that lady type person is, but dammmmmn. Holy "jello on bed springs!"

Tired of hearing about certain racers (insert various teams, and countries here) and how they either A. Have a chance at GC (they don't) or B. Are going to attempt a stage win. They WILL NOT because they have a "If I can't win, I'll say I'm working for a teammate, but really just ride my ass to the finish to keep my sponsors happy" mentality.

I hate Vino. I know this may have me waking up with a Kazak funded dirty bomb in my bed, but there, I said it. He was all doped up when he did this shit before, and I believe he is now. Sorry.

The Shack Tracker is stupid. The term "The Shack" is even "stupider." I mean you don't have to be an 8th grader to read/hear "The Shack" without thinking "The Sack." WTF Radio Shack??

Not a fan of Contador. Liked him last year. This year, just the sound of his voice is like nails on a chalk board. Plus those Astana kits are like baby boy puke. Jeezuz, that's an ugly ass kit.

I wold like to see Fat Andy stay on top, and ditch Contador on a climb, because watching him fall apart in the time trial would be heart breaking. Then again the wait for who gets busted for doping at the Tour will be the most hear breakng thing to watch. MAYBE it won't happen? *fingers crossed, not holding breath*

Speaking of ugly ass kits... The Footon-Seretto team kits are HHHHAAY-NOOOSE! That color! It reminds me of the "nude hoes" that Janet on Three's Company used to wear. ICK!! Who wears nude pantyhose under shorts????

Some of the best photos I've seen from this year's Tour were on Boston.com. Great pics! This is my fave so far...

Look at all that blood on the motorbike! This is why football loving red necks can suck it with their "we're so tough shit." Yeah cyclists might not have your 50 pound beer guts or "turn left" mentality. And sadly many of them were/are doped up with froth at the moth, EPO sucking sheep's blood, but still... DAMN!

I am disappointed with the lack of men/women/animals in thongs along the road when the Tour hit the mountains. Last year I saw a guy that looked like Ernest Borgnine in a thong running along Lance with his hair Euro moobs heaving to/fro. This year- nothing! So far!

Favorite names of the this years Tour; Edvald Boasson Hagen and Koos Moerenhout.

Greg Lemond- a couple years ago I wanted him to shut the f*ck up. I still do, but given all the freaking reports out now I think he might have been right. Not sure what good, if any, can come of all the shit flying right now, but I will say dopers suck, and if you lie or cheat at racing with PED's you are the one sucking. But at the end of the day those folks have to deal with the lies and the deceit. Maybe Floyd lied once, maybe twice, maybe three times. But IFFFFF he's telling the truth this time, he might just sleep a bit better than some others in the Pro peloton.. Of course I hope I'm wrong, and they are just a bunch of vindictive nut bags, but I will continue to NOT hold my breath.

By the way Versus.... Seriously?? The Cav "double F-U"??

OK, time for rest, reading, and sleep.

Later.

Slayed By The Mountain

After a sort of a stressful week of heat, solo parenting, and work, I was looking forward to a 2 wheeled escape to the mountains. Teammates and friends D-POW and Aaron would be joining me (or would I be joining them?). Riding with them is always a humbling experience. Then again, these days riding with my grandmother would be a humbling experience, and Saturday would be no different.


We started with a big forest road climb up Camp Run Road, then hit some single track and double track. Then forest roads of various surface types, lengths and steep grades. Don and Aaron were crushing it on their single speeds whilst I hauled my carcass up with 27 gears.

We made up the backside of Seven Springs and I persuaded D&A that we didn't need to stop for water, and could hit a pump along at an Laurel Highlands Trail camp along a road about 7 miles away. 7 miles later... OOOPS! There was indeed a pump, but it was indeed dry. My bad. But at least they still had a little water, and I had lots left (not good planning, just poor hydrating). We continued on.

We hit Neal's Run and started up. As soon as the grade turned up you could hear me cracking throughout the mountains and beyond. The bonk was epic. Why is it that I haul 70 oz. of water, 20 oz. of Gatorade and 20 oz. of the fart inducing Perpetuem around for 4.5 hours and finish with all of it. I try to time my hydrating, drink before I'm thirsty, all that "how not to bonk" stuff, but always fail. Oh well, at least they guys were getting a some rest in the shade was they waited for me.

Once to (sort of) top of the climb I urged the guys just to go ahead and finish out the ride at their pace. They refused. We had planned to head up Tunnel Road and fly down Auckerman Road, but opted to just go back down Camp Run Road.

It was a great day in the saddle for the most part and we ended with a hair over 50 miles and God knows how many feet of climbing, based on some rough estimating on MapMyRide stuff, it was probably was close to 4,000 feet or so but who really knows except some dude with a GPS.

It was also a bad day in the saddle from mile 37 on. Just wasted from the heat. No real complaints though. 50 miles of mountain trails and roads, and over 4:30 of saddle time is a pretty sweet way to spend a Saturday.

Later.

Grady vs Zep

Against my better judgement I did head out for a couple hours on Thursday. It was hot as ballz again, even at 9:30 a.m., but still better than February's numb fingers and frozen faces.

I've come to the conclusion that the Campeon's bottom bracket is shot. As it creaks I can feel the vibration in my feet as I stand on climbs. Then again, I guess that's what happens when you put xxx pounds of sagging, now 39 year old flesh down on components made for 130 pound men.

I got about 35 miles in, and hopped on the rail trail to get me out (and back) to some of the back roads of my loop. Served as a nice slightly shaded way to get to the climbing bits of the ride. Along the way back I almost ran over a sweaty, hairy, shirtless old man that stepped out on to the trail without looking. He sort of looked like Grady Wilson from Sanford and Son (except white). I thank God I didn't hit him, not because I care whether the geezer got hurt, but because I in NO WAY wanted feel my body smash into the old sweaty Grady-like man. Eeeewwww.

I did thankfully avoid him, but not the whiff of urine that he brought with him as I passed. Then again, by that point in the ride, I most certainly smelled like ripe fromunda cheese and burnt hair.

Then I passed the Zep mile marker.

I love the fact that some dude took the time to get down and try to replicate the Doors and Led Zeppelin logos, but the trash can just stay there. When I see this stuff I can ride for minutes taking to myself asking "why?" I just can't ever see myself getting down on the ground as surely this dude had to with a Sharpie JUST so I can show my love the Doors and Zeppelin. Then again, some of you are saying "why the f*ck takes a photo of trail side graffiti?"

Taking Friday off the bike to crank out some work. (Oddly, I'm cranking out this stupid blog post). Better do something.

Later.

Reacquainted

Today I got reacquainted with my road bike. It sort of felt good. The great thing about riding on the road, on a road bike is that you turn the pedals (no matter how bloated and pathetic a road rider your are, speaking of myself of course) and zip-zang you're off. Well at least when things are flat. On a mountain bike everything is sort of lurching and awkward. Still fun at times, but still "lurchy." Yeah, that's right, I made up that word, but ass they say right down the street from my house- "deal wit it."

Where was I? Oh yeah, the road bike, the road in which it rolls and the re-acquaintance there of. The last time I rode the Campeon it was making sounds that resembled at WW I tank. Turns out my pedals were so shot they were jiggling like a porn star's boob(DD)eezzz. New pedals, fixed. Um, no? Lubed (sadly the bike, not me or anyone else), greased, etc., etc., And STILL I creak, not as bad, but creaking nonetheless. Shit has not been right on the road bike since I did that ride in the rain forever ago. I think it needs a full on greasy velo-enema of sorts.

Creaking be damned the ride was pretty OK. I still suck at road riding, enjoy it at times, but still not like riding a mountain bike on dirt. The sad thing is, the loop I do, (and the 30 variations of it) never seems to get any easier. I never do a hill and say- 'I remember when this was hard.' 6 years on and I'm still saying 'I hate this hill' or urging some false flat to blow me. There are other loops I do in other places that I dig and know I've got better at. but my local loops can suck it.

But hold on pardner, this makes it sound like my ride sucked. Ummm, no. It was sort of good for what it was. A quick 30 mile work day loop. But to tell you the truth, I really have no desire to ride more than 30 or 40 miles of pavement. Now put in some shit roads (all of PA?), some dirt, and some trail and I will be VERY interested in riding it. That is not to say I would ride it well, but I would WANT to ride it. I hate saying that. It makes me feel like a bad cyclist (joining bad father, husband, person, etc., etc.,). But bad as in not respecting the sport, not bad as in suck at it, but I SORT of DO suck at it, so I guess like Lindsay Lohan it can go both ways.

Anyway, aside from the whole huck off a cliff and crash thing, I LOVE this sport. The sport of cycling saved me from being a 300 pound goof (or at least being 300 pounds). It SORT of brought me out of the shell that some folks may argue I maybe should have just stayed in. And as of today (maybe not tomorrow) it has given me a career in the ABSOLUTE LOOSEST SENSE OF THE WORD with XXC Magazine (available at XXCMAG.COM). LOL!

Road riding- dig it. Some days I love it. Road racing- I'll watch it, respect it, but I won't do it again! Tried it once. Got dropped 1 mile in, rode 30+ miles by myself. I can do that for free. Cross racing? Suck at it, but want to do more, and want a cross bike (can SOMEONE get me a deal on a Jake The Snake??), XC racing? I would love to do it, but I'm in a VERY gray area of being able to ride long distances slow, but not being able to ride XC distances fast. Don't want to sandbag, and I don't want to come in DFL. But anyway I just want to let readers know that 90% of the time, when I talk disrespectfully of road riding, it's my inability to do said riding that irks me.

Wow, I got WAYYYYYY off track. I COULD have just said, I did a short road ride. It was OK, and just ended it. But I didn't. Sorry, I'm an idiot.

Later.

Rolling Dirt

Well the DK 200 issue is out and about and lots of folks have checked it out and dig it. So I guess it was a pretty ok idea. Now just to bust ass to get XXC Mag #8 done by the end of the month, AND try to get myself back in some sort of shape to attempt a couple more races this year.

Yesterday was spent doing
an "epic" 6 mile ride with B-Man...

And today was spent working, but taking time
to ride some dirt. It was the funnest.

Gotta split. B-Man is in bed, so that means some CHILL time with a book and sleep! Sweet, sweet, sleep!

Later.

Better Never Than Late

Little late now, but I've been caught up with some increased husband/dad duties the past few days (and next two weeks)....

Got up to the mountain on Saturday, got in 3 hours of mountain love. Saw a bobcat (or some such wild cat, and that was super cool), some bear prints, some deer, a snake wrangler, and finally realized the forest road climb that will piece together one 30 to 40 mile loop, with another 30 to 40 mile loop, which will equal a loop harder than my ass can probably do in one day anymore.

I've been called worse.

I had much more to say about the ride yesterday, but got sidetracked. Now I think I will just let the pics I took speak for the ride.

Uphill gravel on Felgar.

Mountain pavement.

Every mountain climbs seems to end with a cemetery.

Parts of Powdermill are double track from logging truck the rest is
grassy double track longing to be made single.

Critter prints to remind you of where you are. If you're going so fast so as not
to notice little things like this, you're missing out! I like gifts like this.

This "trail" used to be dirt and rock when I first rode it about 14 years ago. Now it is a crushed stone mountain super highway. It was so much more then, but it is still a great way to see the beauty of the WPA mountains.

A nice bit of single track before heading back towards the xB.

Some pavement spinning back to my VEE-hicle.

This week is going to be nutz. Wifey is out of town for the next two weeks, the XXC DK200 Special Edition is late, but due out tomorrow, and I still have more to do on XXC #8 as well as get some T shirt designs finished. UG!! Oh yeah, I would LIKE to ride too!

BTW last week I mentioned that the promotion that Wifey was pursuing was put on hold and that our asses were chapped. Well it seems that the positions still need to be filled, so the Summer Of Uncertainty is still FULLY ON!! Oh yeah, push that stress level up more, thanks!

Later.

Getting It In

The idea of doing a ride, any ride, in the heat and humidity we have been dealing with here in WPA lately was about as appealing as having my eye lids removed. BUT, there's something about rolling rubber on dirt that makes you forget the heat and humidity, or that fact that breathing will be as about as easy as trying to inhale a sun baked water balloon.

Note: Not my balloon and not my face. I have more hair and more chin.

I had a ton of work to do today, but was up after 6 a.m. to get going on it, so I still had time to ride, work, and do Fun Friday dad type stuff with the B-Man.

The ride was hot, it was humid, and the two together rendered my legs lifeless. BUT it was time in the dirt, and I'll take it for sure.

Lots of work that I still need to get done this weekend for the XXC Dirty Kanza Special Issue, and of course XXC #8. On top of that I have a big ride planned, and Wifey is going out of town for two weeks to drop knowledge on some .gov types. The plate is FULLLLLL!!

Gotta split.

Later.

Evening Laps & Jackbooted Thugs

I wasn't going to ride today. I have a TON of stuff to get done on XXC Mag #8 and on the Dirty Kanza Special Edition that we're (I'm) putting out. Not to mention it is soooo freaking hot and humid! YIKES! The temp was 94 today with like 80% humidity, and a "real feel" of like 500 degrees.

But after a day of busting ass on the mag, and doing dad stuff, I was feeling all nasty for not doing any kind of workout (nasty means fat). So after Wifey got home I convinced myself that 92 degrees was SOOOO much cooler than 94 and that riding would feel great.

So I went for a ride on my local loop to get a sweat on, because just standing feeling sweat run down my thighs and but cheeks wasn't good enough for me. I was glad I did. I was sorry I did.

This was only about the 3rd or 4th time I have rode in the evening in the past 2 years. Every time I do I realize I sort of miss it. The woods take on an orange glow that you can only get from an early morning ride or an evening ride. I would have loved to have taken some pics tonight but I was more concerned with not suffocating to death from the oppressive humidity. I hate winter and cold temps, but damn, this is sort of... what's the word?... F*CKING HOT AS BALLZ!!!!

As I rode along on my first 6.25 mile lap I tried to think of how I felt. How did I REALLY feel? Hmmm, I'm pretty sure I felt like a fat man- about 300 pounds or so - sitting in front of the TV watching Mama's Family and eating second dinner (a KFC bucket). When jackbooted thug storm into the house, grab me, and take me to their HQ. Once there they force me to run on a treadmill inside a sauna for 20 minutes. Then strip me down (still in the sauna) and shove me into giant Hefty bag. Once inside they throw me in the back of a van, take me into the middle of the woods leave me in there to baste and pretty much suffocate. THAT is how I felt during that first lap!!

The second lap was better, it was fun to ride some dirt, but I was glad for short spins, and the end of the ride. The ride was hardly anything to write home about (or to write anywhere about), but it was a nice way to get out of the house, away from the computer for a little bit and sweat all over myself.

Once home I started my side dishes for tonight's dinner, went to grab my "Chick'n" burgers and DOH!!! There's only ONE in the pack?? WIFEY!!! I was set on them, but one was not gonna cut it. I nuked it, and it came out crappy (too much time). Now what?? Well, there were two REAL hamburgers in the freezer. Frig! I couldn't say no. I ended up putting them on the grill. I caved!! BUT!!!....

They got well done on the outside and too pink on the inside. DRAT!!! So I ate around the pink on one (shut up), threw the other one out and pretty much had cheese and pickle sandwiches for dinner. F it all. Oh well, I guess it was pay back for caving on the MEatless diet for the first time. I guess I'll have to make up for it on the weekend. Frig.

This post pretty much sucked and will surely help me maintain my position as the 416th most influential cycling blog on the Net. Sorry.

Later.

Setting Fire To The Sun

Torn- go ride my bike in the woods before the day heated up to 1 million degrees, or watch the Tour on the cobbles? Pffft! Woods won. Especially since I can watch the replay on Versus like every other hour for the next 24.

I did end up taking more time than I wanted before riding (Curse you cobbles! Curse you XXC Mag work!!!) and it showed in the fact that I think my core temp was about 165 degrees by the time I was done with the ride. I can't even imagine what it had been like out on the road. Eph the road until the temps come down out of quadrupole digits.

But I will watch OTHER people on the road...

Once home I was able to catch up on today's Tour stage. Real good stuff. Totally thinking that Cancellara is one of my fave Pro riders right now. He might be a dick (that is to say I have NO idea what he's like as a real person, so I will hold back any full on man-crush), but I totally dug what he did this spring at Flanders and Roubaix and even the way he took control of the peloton yesterday (to some people's dismay). Then today he puts the hammer down to get the yellow jersey back, and helps pull Andy Schleck across the line with the lead group. So it seems to me (and that means NOTHING) that Cancellara is totally worthy of the yellow jersey, even if he will certainly give it up in the mountains. It was also of course cool to see former XC racer Ryder Hesjedal nearly pull off a stage win. That would have been super cool. Oh well I've spoke tooooo much about shit I know only a little about. And that is dangerous. So I will go to bed.

Later.

You Would Think, But You Would Be Wrong

Did up some short rides all last week. I EVEN did a short ride Saturday out of pure laziness. But Sunday the mountain beckoned, and who the hell am I to say no? I mean it's the mountain.

I had a plan for a ride that would be a perfect combination of single track, double track, and mountain forest roads. By my estimates it should have be about 45 miles. The problem is that I spent way too much time estimating the time and mileage of the ride, and SOMEHOW along the way forgot to pack enough nutrition for 45 miles in the mountains.

I started the ride by hitting a few miles of some nice flowing single track through the roots, rocks and ferns, then dumped out on to some gravel before heading up the Red Oak snow mobile trail. Red Oak starts with some chunky rock near the gate and is sort of a pain in the ass to get up, but then it becomes dirt double track. As I cruised along the trail I spied a fox up ahead. He looked at me and then start trotting down the trail about 30 yards in front of me. I pedaled along at about 12 mph behind him. He stopped looked back at me and then he and his big bushy tail jumped into the trees and ferns along the trail. Spotting some wildlife out on the trails is always a bonus.

At this point in the ride I was just totally stoked. My legs felt better than they have in weeks, the bike felt great under my buttocks, and the day was going amazing. It was great to be in the shade of the cool mountain woods on a hot day. Soon I was making my way up the back side of Seven Springs via Pritts Distillery. The single and double track parts of the ride were over for a bit and it would be all forest roads for the next 15 miles or so, with the plan to jump on the best part of the Seven Springs race course when I climbed up Neal's Run Rd. But first I needed to get those 15 miles in!

Let no tree go left unmarked! Nice homemade sign warning of the "soft road" surface ahead. While the gravel was deep on the first few miles of the descent, it was way worse a few weeks ago when D-POW and I did a similar loop. Oh yeah, someone is missing a Beagle too.

I stopped to photograph the flowers as the saying goes
(at least I think that's the saying) on the way down...

But soon enough it was climbing gravel.

I saw no other cyclists out on the roads or trails all day (OK there were two, you'll see later), but there were a few folks taking in the beauty of the mountain from the air condition comfort of their Cadillac, Lexus and Porsche SUVs, and kicking up gravel and dust along the way.

At about mile 27 or so, the shade of the trees was gone and the sun was beating down on me as the roads continued to go up. I was taking in tepid water from my pack and near boiling Gatorade from my bottles in an effort to stay hydrated and that was working. The problem was that I was hungry. I packed 3 gels and just took in the last. And I still had an estimated and planned 18 miles or so to go. What kind of an idiot plans a 45 mile mountain bike ride and takes 3 gels, and 2 bottles of freaking Gatorade for calories??? What is that about 300 calories for a planned 3.5 to 4 hours? I'm such an idiot.

What me worry? (YES!!)

Oh well, nothing to do but just keep on. As I downed the last gel and took a swig of the bum's piss in my bottles, I realized that the plan to incorporate more single track into the ride as I climbed Neal's Run was not going to happen. Curse me!

I finally got to the bottom of Neal's Run which is a great big and middle ring shaded climb along a stream for the first mile or two. I was content with my decision to ditch the single track. As I climbed I spied two bikes along the road, a couple of sweet Wal Mart Huffys. A few feet from them was a helmetless couple standing with their back to me. As I passed I say "hey, how's it goin'?" The woman smiles and says "Great" and her man friend say "good man" as he lets out a big exhale of pot smoke as I rode by. LOL! I couldn't help but just laugh as I passed. I see two riders all day and it's a helmetless, Huffy riding, ganja smoking couple. I should have asked for some food. I mean surely they were prepared for the munchies. Of course my luck it would have been some "custom" made brownies!

Eventually Neal's loses it's tree cover, turns to chunky loose rock and kicks up a bit. UG! I was ready to eat my hand!

Must.

Have.

Food.

I'm used to cracking during races, but cracking during my fun rides is just stupid. The Bike Gods had one more insult to throw me for being SO stupid....

I finally made it to Fire Tower Road and was plugging up on of the short climbs when hhhheeerreeee comes "Jack"...

Who is Jack you ask? Jack is a gold Lab who's lives at a cabin along the road. Jack was the mutt that started my bad luck streak of dog incidents about a month ago. And he was back. Running full blast at me as I pedaled about 3 mph up the hill. The thing was literally bounding through the air towards me. I stand froze as the owners are yelling "Jack, get back here!! GET BACK! He won't hurt you!! He just thinks you're here to see him (I wasn't)" as Jack flies through the air growling and hits me in the chest with both paws with his face right in mine like he wanted to stick his tongue in my mouth.

I stood there frozen like a constipated turd. Mumbling "Easy Jack, I'm nice, I won't hurt you (even though I wanted to smash his face with my cleated foot). Finally the dude's kid comes and drags the growling Jack away from me and apologizes. I continued to be nice (after all they're they DO have a big pissed off dog) and say "no worries, I've met Jack before under similar circumstances." To which the kid replies "are you the guy he chased yesterday?" WTF?? OK, you have a dog, live on a road that people apparently cycle and hike on and you STILL let your dog off a leash and able to chase them down?? UGGGGGG!! I was missing the pacifist fox I met earlier in my ride. *sigh*

Soon I was back to the xB, and ready to head home for copious amounts of beef and whatever they put in hot dogs before MEatless Week II starts on Monday. The ride ended with only about 39 miles, but what ended up being 4+ hours on the bike with all the climbing, the early single track and the bonking.

While I was an idiot for not packing more food, or sucking it up and using the Perpetuem that I recently swore off, it was still an amazing time in the saddle and a great way to spend the 4th of July and a great way to earn those burger calories!

Gonna just chill today, maybe do some work, and watch the Tour.

Later.

Gripped With Lazyness

Friday was non stop ballz to the wall layout and design day on XXC #8 (due out late this month). I also got some mad work done on a special issue of XXC dedicated to the Dirty Kanza 200. The XXtra edition of XXC should be out in the coming week or so, with Issue #8 of XXC due out at the end of the month. Hope to have some new t shirts in the near future too. Just can't make up my mind what I want to do.

Today I planned to go the mountain. But I feared mountain trails jammed to the max with holiday weekend horses and the shit they bring and tried to come up with another plan. I couldn't. I just was feeling sooooo freaking lazy. It was crippling! I just sat there staring at the wall. Then I FINALLY got into my kit and again, just freaking sat there staring at the wall. I came up with 9,999 reasons why going for a ride was dumb. I feat the "ick" is coming on again. Finally reason #1,000 was me saying "get you ass on some dirt, and all will be good."

For a change I was right.

Once again just rolled some homegrown trails and had a great time. There is one trail called Creek Trail by its amazing builders, I call it the Dump Trail (cause the entrance to it is right near a No Dumping sign along the road. This could be one of my favorite trails in the Tri State Area. It flows so nicely and is just a blast! Swooping, twisty, turny baby makin' single track.

Not a long ride at just a about 1.5 hours, but at least I got my ass out of the house. I do hope to hit some of the mountain road in the coming day or two. IF I can get my ass out the door before the trails are filled with day hikers and big fury shitting beasts with people on their backs.

In some suck-ball personal news. It seems that the lack of a U.S. Gov. Budget has instituted a GOP induced hiring freeze (yet ANOTHER reason why politicians can suck my sweaty skid marked chamois) for now. So alllll the freaking travel, interviewing and worrying Wifey did for a possible promotion has been put on hold just 2 weeks before the positions were to be filled. To say she is disappointed is an understatement. Lots of emotion, travel and personal expense went into her pursuit of said position. Oh well, maybe in the fall or something.

Gotta split. Some friends coming over for beers and grillin'.

Later.

Zero Pounds, Oily Spots & 18 Geared Bikes

Well the first 4 days of MEatless is done. Yeah! Total pounds lost = 0. Booo! I was really expecting to drop at least 10 of the 20 pounds I want to lose this week. Oh well, maybe MEatless Week II will fare better, especially since I plan to start mixing up some Alli/Metamucil Cocktails to aid the pound shedding. "Gas with oily spotting" and "frequent hard to control stools" be damned!

B-Man calls Friday "Fun Filled Friday". Tomorrow I will most certainly agree as I throw some chicken on the grill and crack a beer.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

I got another quick ride in the dirt in today. I have been totally stoked to ride dirt so close to my crib. Sure I need to do two laps or more to get a work out in, but some of the trails in Dubya-Oh-P are really fun, and on a weekday that is divided up between work/dad/ride/dad/work/sleep, I really don't mind.

In order to get more of a loop in I join some section of dirt with the park road. The park road itself is used by walkers and dog walkers. Given the looks I get, I sometimes feel like the people there have never really seen a person on a bike before. Makes me a little self conscious. They sort of stare at me in a way that make me feel that I didn't properly tuck the ol' chap in the chamois or my jersey has somehow come up and my pasty white belly flab is spilling over the "control top" of my bibs for all to see. Oh well, they will get used to it in time.

Speaking of the gawker/walkers. Today I'm looping through to start my second lap and this 40 to 50 year old guy walking his dog flags me down to stop as I'm rolling by. Figuring he might need something important (he didn't), like an idiot, I stop....

"Hey, there. You know I just got a bike. 18 gears or something like that. Took it to Schenley Park not long ago. There's some nice riding there. There's like a bike path"

"I heard that, that's cool." I reply, and attempt to inch away.

"I had it here once and started coming down that hill... wow, I thought I was gonna go over the bars! I mean it's been years since I was on a bike." We both laugh at the thought of him crashing his 18 speed bike on the 2% grade downhill, fido thankfully starts to pull him away, and I wish him luck with his bike as we part.

Why am I telling you this? Well as much as some might THINK it's me bitching about how some random dude stopped me during my 1.5 hour, "training to do nothing" but enjoy the dirt mountain bike ride, just to tell me about his bike and poor descending skills, it's not. I guess I just wanted to point out another example of how the Joy of Bike can get people talking. Like when you're a kid and you're friends with other kids just 'cause they're kid you're a kid, so BOOM you're friends. Bikes are sort of like that.

That's why when I'm out on a ride and get "cool guyed" by a passing cyclist (yes, YOU the roadie that I passed twice on my road ride last week, with not some much as a nod!) I can't help but think him a raging douche, and secretly wish that his PowerTap hub explodes, his warranty is denied and he feels like all the miles he just rode, acknowledging no one but the stats on his computer, never happened. I mean I'm not asking for hugs and kisses, and God knows I'm always too out of breath to talk on rides, but a nod would be just fine dude.

Wow, sorry, I got sidetracked with talks of cycling doucheness...

OK, flagging me down probably was a bit extreme, and I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't just a LITTLE disappointed that he didn't have a reason for me to speed off like a human Lassie on two wheels to fetch help, but I'm no worse for having stopped and neither is he. Unless of course he spied the misaligned ol' chap or the un-controlled bib belly. Then he's probably a tad scarred by the miniature stature of the one and the pasty enormity of the other.

Later.