Moab!

Finally did it. After a one (or was it a two?) year hiatus, the homey trinity busts a move to Moab. We left on a Friday night after work and got in 2300h at the Amasa Back overflow camping area. Our goal was three rides in two days.

Even though I brought a camera, I didn't capture the beautiful views of what we woke up to at the Amasa Back Canyons.

Saturday:
Our cheapness decided the type of riding we were to do in the morning. The cashier at Poison Spider bikes said this one particular shuttle was going up to Porcupine for $20 a pop. Damn y'all, that's way too expensive. So we decided to ride our bikes up to the Watertanks that is the landmark beginning of Porcupine Rim. It probably tacked on 10 miles to the 20 miles from Porcupine back to town. Here I am trying to find some Double A batteries from the group that was beginning to ride.The ride up to the trailhead was fat burning pace but it was all uphill so it was taxing even before the "real" climb up to the Porcupine lookout. At the watertanks, there were some young 'uns starting up too and eventually they caught up to us. Testosterone is a bad thing y'all. As soon as they caught up to us it kind of turned into an uphill race. I picked it up a bit and I could hear them behind us. Then it was just me and the young 'uns. They were following my lead and I could hear them not cleaning the obstacles comprising the difficulty of the climb. When I heard the clipless pedal sound of the "unclick" I pushed a little harder on the pedals to open up the gap. I never looked back because that's the Y-chromosome sign of I'm coming unglued so I just persevered and hammered away at the little lead I established. Soon enough the uphill vista's around the bend and I pretty much shot my reserves.















My semimembranosus muscles were starting to catch and that's my telltale sign of Mr. Cramps is just around the corner. At the top we eat and I try and stretch out the backs of my legs.


The downhill's hell on wheels and the spinal cord for owners of hardtails. Yup, that's me. My boys have an Ibis Mojo and a Yeti 575. A Cadillac ride anyway you slice it. I don't mind downhill technical because you can kind of pick your lines through but Porcupine-even on the flats-have some pretty obtuse rock obstacles where you have to pedal through to avoid endo-ing. Porcupine has long, technical downhills and these technical flat spots. After 2.5 hours of this after an hour ride up my 43 year-old self was getting tired! In fact, I had to walk out the cramps that decided to set up camp in all imaginable sites on my lower and upper legs. I was so depleted that the muscles below my calf was even cramping. Nuh-tee.

The lower third was spent following Mr. Clean aka Hez-Chilly aka Billy. Again I had to take a break because I needed to shake out the cramps. There was one point where a bad-ass blasted by us with some major downhilling skill and this inspired Billy to follow with spirit. I couldn't hang on the hardtail flowing through the tight singletrack with the two to three feet ledges/drop-offs and I had to slow it down in order to not lose any teeth or skin and to avoid slamming my spine any more.

They waited for me at the end of ride and it was a nice 8 miles on the road back to the Riverside Inn ($80/night oh yeah!!). This is where my roady muscle memory kicked in and in no time I had a nice, high cadence spin to begin the choo-choo o' mountain bikers back to town. We passed a couple of pacelines of other mountain bikers but we had to be careful on the pass because this road had no shoulder. We tucked ourselves into one group, drafted, rested, and I rolled up to the front to take a pull. Right when I was in pole position a group of 4 roadies passed us in a paceline too. I locked out the front fork, sprinted out of the saddle and tucked myself in behind them with Billy in tow. As we rolled the left hander into town there was a slight increase in pace and since I was riding tailgunner I noticed the gal in front of me was starting to fade. Once the gap was about half a car length I did the roady move, where I half-wheeled accelerated and pushed her back into the draft, where I settled myself once more. Our hotel's in sight and I thank 'em for the draft back to town. This is at the 4.5h mark and I am spent. I didn't parcel my energy for a second ride this afternoon after lunch and the hottub. Great first ride in Moab!

The second ride was either Flat Pass or Moab Rim Trail. We decided the Moab Rim would be closer, with higher climbing intensity but not as long time-wise. We rode out to Amasa Back and the sun was blazing! No wonder my boy's name's Billy because he was billygoating up the climb. Kevin and I were walking the steepness and complaining on how close we were to losing our lunch. Mmmmm, bile. This is the actual trail that started back down by the Colorado River.

Billy says, the ride doesn't get any easier so we decided to bail and it would still add another two hours to our 4.5. Once we're on the road, a sponsored girl mountain biker cruises past us and Billy and Kevin file in behind her. My lateralus' start to cramp and I'm banging them with my fists to stave off the cramps.
I glue onto Billy and he attacks me road-style (this is how we roll as competitive, close friends). Opens up a three car lead and I dig into my reserves to close the gap. It was awesome fun and just what we were looking for for quality miles in Moab. At the CityMarket, I am three sheets in the wind. Billy takes this picture of me as I drift in and out of consciousness while the remaining Homey Trinity purchase our Dinner by the pound. We eat our dinner at the newly erected Moab Rec center and enjoy the shade, the A.D.D.-ness of a local describing the sweet trails, and each others' company while we replace the 3,000 or so kilocalories we combusted earlier.


Sunday: Sovereign Trail

We link up the Sovereign Trail spurs before we head back to Denver. Billy and Kevin are doing their Mr. Clean impression while I'm suffering on the insufferable moon rock formations they have out here. On the return trip we kick it up a notch as an icing on the cake deal for our last cycling hurrah for the weekend. Here's Billy and Kevin bustin' a move...


Oooweee kids, that was fun!

Hillbilly Workout

It's May and most people in the northern hemisphere think the bulk of snowfall(ing) has stopped and pretty much that's true. Although, up here at 8k'+ (2500m for my metric friends), Old Man Winter's malingering. I call it the protracted-cold-as-hell-part-of-Spring-that-pretty-much-sucks. Down the hill it's nice but up here we still need a reserve of firewood. This time though, I can use the ATV instead of using the Rocky vs. Ivan Drago winter workout to bring up the posts from the bottom of our yard.
Here's my sweety-pie riding figurehead on the ATV.

I probably sectioned and quartered three weeks worth of wood if we don't have to burn through an entire evening. Just enough burning to take the edge off when we get home and the coals will radiate enough heat during our sleepytime. Every now and again (like today), I smack/quarter the thick chunks of wood so hard with the splitting maul it eventually splits the trunk. Oh well, that'll eventually make its way to the firebox too...

Maura, my middle daughter helped me out tremendously. She helped pack and stack the firewood and kindling. She moved three wheelbarrow's worth of firewood to the side of the house. What a great help she was!

No riding today up here, it's hovering around freezing so later it's hello, "Mr. Rollers, could you please make my ding-a-ling go numb (again)? Oh and while you're at it could you please round off my rear tire too? Thank-you..."

After Maura and I stack the wood loot, I treat myself to one of the beers I acquired from the party the day before.

An interesting note about the bottle opener:
when I was stationed in Germany my buds and I road tripped to Munich and the bordering Austria to check out the sights and to continue with our "beers around the world" tour. A souvenir from München was this lovely bottle opener from the Hacker-Pschorr Bräu. I loved Germany. What an experience for an eighteen year-old. The handle is a purple anodized, non-drive side Cook Bros. Racing crankarm, 177 cm length back when racing was my life. Racing on a steel, hardtail mountain bike...

Here she is again proud of her vegetable cutting skills as we're preparing our Vegetable Jambalaya dinner. Notice her Longhorn beanie kids!

A Whole Lot of Nothing Going On

Friday was funk day. It was the end of a protracted work week (even though I had no students on Wednesday) and when my kids filed in for class the energy level wasn't there. We're getting ready for finals and it's about as much fun as watching paint dry. Our district gives us a standardized test and the week to assess them is coming to a close. So, I'm reviewing and giving them new stuff. Needless to say, I was like the jockey smacking a horse that doesn't want to be in the race. Afterwork we had a going away party for our student teacher and for one of our colleagues who had to be reassigned due to budget cuts in our district. Brought the Paulaner Oktoberfest. It has a great bock(y) taste and a clean finish. It almost reminded me of my own Shiner Bock (brewed in Texas) hill country experiences where I received my undergrad in Austin.

The weather too has been a biscuit. Beautiful all work week but come weekend there's always a chance of snow-if not just flat out snowing-and the wind still makes it feel sub-freezing. That translates to barely any riding. The only hours I got in for this past week was three hours on the roller (not at one time). I think I'm the only one riding rollers indoors on sunny, rideable days. It's boosheet. Oh yeah, I had to change out my leaking, front shock and that was an awfully long, very physical job. That was Sunday. 7 hours of trying to cram a coilover shock in the lower arm with my brother and father in-law. So yeah, no riding, and my students are getting a case of senioritis and our house is in its usual state of turmoil. I might be going through a second round of mid-life crisis. Not enough therapy on the bike makes for a grouchy and non-responsive father, husband, and teacher. Not enough cleansing through self-torture on a climb or duking it out in a pack. Not good.

Fired off a couple of hours this morning though and finished it off with a climb up Highgrade with me trying to politely stick to other riders' wheels that were knocking off a pretty fierce pace. I used to be a good rider but work and fatherhood's currently kicking my ass!

Tomorrow, I'm going to collect some more posts sos I can section and half (or quarter) them with the axe/splitting maul. Our firewood's getting low again. I'll do it early so if it warms up and Melissa can watch the kids I can get another couple hours so I can be pack fodder this year...

My XC short track event has been canceled for tomorrow due to all the precipitation we've been receiving. The sponsors don't want to tear up the grass and give cycling a bad rap. Was looking forward to it. I swear...

Spring Break

one of the best post-race drinks

One of the perks teachers have is this wonderful invention called Spring Break. This allowed me to do two group rides I normally wouldn't be able to do as father of three who has a 106 mile commute, roundtrip, each day and whose two daughters are involved in weekday soccer practices. I can probably do night rides if I plan it accordingly with my sweet Melissa but usually the hours I log in before my summer break are on weekends (after my daughters' soccer games) and riding rollers either early morn or right when I get home (which sucks either way because the sun's out longer now). I repeat, I got in two group rides and an XC race Saturday.
Tuesday, group ride #1 was in Boulder. On my drive out I was watching the wind play havoc on the trees and knew it was going to be a long day in the saddle. Sho' nuff, at the bus stop ride only a handful of people showed and that meant I can't chill in the back. The gusts made pack riding tricky because it would randomly blow riders off their path starting a ripple effect from that point forward; and mind you we were already in a tight echelon, hiding out from the wind. Before the right-hander into Hygiene (a name of a town for y'all non-Boulderites), one of our elite riders, Dirk Friel, opened a can of whoop ass and starting cranking the pace! He cranked it so much that me, hidden nicely in the pack, was spinning my 53X12 with everything I had and still got dropped. As my heart was beating in my throat I looked down at my cyclecomputer and I attacked backwards at 42 mph. Ouch. From there, I hopscotched it to other broken groups, lastly drafting off of some triathletes then soloed back to north Boulder. Not good for morale but great for my legs. The sputum I've been collecting for the past week from this malingering head cold now finally making its way outwards.
Group ride #2 in Meridian (Meridien?) in Lone Tree with teammate Garth Peters. Deja vu all over again. Small crowd, huuuge winds, freezing, down two laps finished with a group of 4. An even lowered morale, greater for legs, now considering curling as my new sport of choice.
XC race Saturday. Raced with teammates Jeff(s): Leischner and Higham.
L-R: Jeff L, me, Jeff H.

Super windy again. The beginning of race was up a nice, steep hill and how XC races differ from road racing is that it's really a mass start time trialing event. When they let us go, our Natural Grocers trio just made the front pack split and from there, there was little deviation in the pecking order. Jeff Higham passed me and Jeff L. on the first climb and that's how it pretty much stayed. We passed a couple and a couple passed us. Mr. Leischner and I team time trialed it for the remaining 4 laps and we gained no time on anybody and vice-versa until 1h later when it was all over. Click on results to officially witness Jeff H's 7th, mine of 10th, and Jeff L's of 11th. Fun and painful kinda like life itself don't you think? Best surprise of the month was meeting up with a former student of mine who got married and is an official home owner, Matt Dunn, tearing it up off-road and seeing my college roommate and his wife. My former roommate was racing singlespeed. Ouch.

Snow and Racing

Saturday we woke up to a beautiful scene surrounding our house. Scraped some more snow before the rising temps made it any heavier. Here are some shots...

Here's our driveway...


Sunday's race day. I met Kenny L. at his place in Westminster and we rolled 19 miles to the Niwot to race a crit. We're all sporting our new kits and we actually have 5 people flying the Natural Grocers colors for our event. The sponsors said it was okay to sit on the back-as long as you don't work with them-for a reconnoiter/warm-up for our event. As we were rolling at the back, I noticed that this group was going faster than our group two weeks ago. I was already warmed up from our 19 mile ride to the event and this effort was stressing my legs even though was I was motorpacing off them. Before I peeled off, two people crashed on the straightaway on my left. The guy who crashed had his head down pedaling furiously and ran his front tire into the guy's rear tire who was in front of him. He literally crashed himself out of the race. Oops.

When our event went off it was our goal to have one of us in a lead group and the rest to chase or block. Does it suffice to say I was fighting a head cold all this week (didn't think so)? The first go 'round was Kenny busting a move with another rider to establish a break/lead. He was ready to settle in but his break away companion sat up. While their lead was growing though our other teammate Rich soloed for a bridge while Joel, Rob, and I blocked. Blocking's a difficult job to accomplish if groups of riders surge on either side of the peloton regardless of the leading edge (us) kinda easing off the pace. Joel's a beast blocking when the pack surges and he kinda jams his way to the front, keeps the leaders in sight that waste calories chasing but he doesn't join in the chase. This kinda of eases the anxiety to chase from the the people behind him. When Rich finally caught Kenny for the purpose of making it a two-man Natural Grocer's time trial, the rest of the peloton caught them and it's back to one big group. When the peloton decided to chase Rich and Kenny (even with our attempts to block) it made for one of the fastest lap times for our race. Another group kinda surged and had a gap, this time Rich went and we settled mid to front pack again and nobody in that break wanted to work and we formed one big group again after we caught 'em. For team tactics, you never chase down a teammate that's why it's important to keep your eyes open to see who goes. When I say big group, I'm guessing there were 50 or so of us.
Before the 5 to go sign, there was a flurry of attacks off the front to keep people honest and as soon as we caught like the 3rd or 4th attempt, Kenny busts an inside move before a big right hand sweeper, leans the bike like a moto, and he's off! I see him go and I ride the gutter on the inside to get to the front to block and that effort's cooking my ass. Needless to say, we attempt the block but by this time the peloton's a freight train where passing is almost impossible. You get out in front and the wind'll cook you. Kenny stays off for maybe a third of a lap and the peloton catches him. He eases back and settles in midpack. When it's five to go we surge for three laps hard. On lap four the pace goes up another level; on lap five I'm digging in my 12 and forcing as many watts as possible from my already wasted legs. I mean I'm in my biggest gear, with people surrounding me and I'm working hard to stay in the draft. This last lap effort splinters the group into an hour glass and as we're hammering in the last straight away I see Kenny out of the saddle standing up, not pedaling and I knew he had the worst case scenario of a crit racer-cramping on both legs. I keep my position in the northern end of the hour glass and I see Joel three rows ahead of me, Rob one position ahead of me, and Rich doing an impression of Mario Cipollini advancing towards the finish line. This effort was so intense for my lack of intense legs my hip flexors were even starting to cramp. Ugh! Joel did this race on his 'cross bike even! Look out pack once he gets his road bike back. Pretty honest effort, seems like everybody is like Tantalus, where the grapevine (fitness) is just an arm's length away. Race number two? Done. It was fast and not so furious. In my cold stupor, somewhere in the middle of the race, I remember there was in hole in the space/time continuum and I swear I thought the whole pack was in slow motion. I remember, as my perception, looking around like I was sightseeing, at people's faces to see their physical exertion and scoping out their rides just out of curiosity. It was kinda surreal. It reminded me of a Terry Gilliam scene from Monty Python.

On the way to Kenny's joint, Kenny was gracious enough to wait for my bonked-self. Ouch and thanks I guess.

It's a good way to start the season though...

It's Snowing

My current residence belies the fact I have southern (equatorial) roots

Thursday
Friday's the big snow day so far for March, so what better time than to go for a night ride Thursday before the trails get buried. That's what me and Kevin did. Met at the Alameda parking for Green Mountain by 6:30 and we rolled. The front was beginning to creep its way in and the wind was making the air super crispy. Our goal that evening was to go slow/mellow on the flats and downhill and to go like men possessed on the uphills. Uphill intervals. Yup. 'Twas my first time out for 2010 too on my mountain bike. She felt great although my legs weren't used to the higher rpm spinning on the granny. Our first interval was climbing up the fireroad. Felt like crap! The legs were so heavy and I just couldn't get synched with the cadence and my breathing. Almost felt like the bike was becoming a stranger. Finally near the top when I was really pushing it, I became synchronized once more. Kevin wasn't that far off, so when I got to the top, I busted a you-ee, came down and stood out of the saddle chilly-chill, to diffuse out my friend and enemy-hydrogen ions, following Kevin to the cut-off to one of favorite downhills. From there, there was a spur we took to take us back to the main trail to begin lap two. That singletrack portion had some short but steep climbs that put my pistons into lactate hell (yes I'm lactating). I need that though. I need to push my legs to discomfort by pushing it to and sustaining some lactic threshold training. The minute the trail would flatten out, I would come near to a halt then once anything resembling an anticline showed up I'd hit it like no other.
The second lap, the final climb, the winds were beginning to howl so it was good that this was our last lap. I kept it in the middle ring and even though I couldn't spin it in the cadence I wanted on some of the steep stuff, I would sit and power through until I could. The most memorable sight for me was when I was at the top catching my breath, another cyclist with the plush light set up (on bike and on helmet) started to descend and his forward facing halogens coupled with his flashing hot-dot off his seat rails/post made him look like low flying airplane. With the fog, it put the light sources inside an opaque halo and it made for some contrasty, illuminating, otherworldly scenery. Great night ride. My legs were spend and I felt satisfaction for my down time cycling Saturday due to the blizzard like conditions up here in the high country.

Friday
Friday's here and it's snowing like a banshee up at our place, I learn from Melissa when I'm at work. So as soon as my last class is finished I sign myself out and head home to beat the truckers up the canyon before the roads start freezing and they start jackknifing (like they always do in March). Sho' nuff, I didn't even make it two miles up the canyon before traffic completely stops. And, sho' nuff, it's a grip of semis chaining up on our tiny little canyon road snarling up traffic on a Friday afternoon. Once I roll past the bottleneck I'm jonesing for some good beer to enjoy, celebrating the end of the work week, celebrating the beginning of the weekend, celebrating my trade-off so's I can race, celebrating living the high-life, celebrating how hip my family is, celebrating the fact that our new race kits come that also celebrates Halloween...etc. so I pick up a 4-pack of a St.Bernardus sampler. When I'm home our driveway needs some scraping so I drink just a smidge of St. Bernardus Pater 6 before I fireup the ATV to tease my tastebuds of what's to come (don't drink and drive an ATV kids, but relax, even though I'm not a professional I play one on TV). The snow's not being so friendly...

Die Wochenende

Saturday morning was spent riding about 17 miles on the rollers, getting warmed up for the hour of power. At this point I need to pile up miles as I can get it. It was a great ride up until the point when a sheriff pulled out speeding pack over with his lights and sirens a'blazin'. Apparently we cyclists where scofflaws when it comes to being on the road. We stopped and listened to his lecture, said our, "Thank-you sir(s)" and off again we went. For the first couple'a miles we double filed it but once we got into the reservoir it went back to shit-on-your-neighbor mode. The climb to arrowhead golf course seemed fine. They were flying. I managed to keep contact with the main group before the last little crest then I popped. Made sure to be in the top dozen on the downhills so if there was going to be a significant split I'm going to be in that group. Yeah it was a good ride. People lost water bottles on the speed bump at the entrance to the park. Every now and again I guess they forget and they nail the speed hump at 32 mph and they have a yard sale right then and there. I remember the water bottle rolling around on the deck like a chicken with its head cut-off and said to myself, "That's a nice colored orangy solution inside that water bottle." It reminded me of the types of ice cream selections you get at the lunch line back in the day of those orange pushups. Remember them?
As we wound up the sprint I remember the dude next to me nailing these pretty good sized potholes. Holy mackeral I heard his wheels take the brunt of that and boy did it not sound mechanically forgiving. Reminded me of the physical characteristic of metal being brittle. Yikes.
After that, chatted with a dude named Tom flying the old school Vitamin Cottage colors on the way back to the cars. From there, chatted with another old acquaintance on the bike about his new ride and it's off we go to do some climbing up Highgrade road with some racers on the Acme team. On the way up to High Grade, rode with a staple of metro area cycling and historical badass, Dean Williams. Back in the day, he would pretty much top 10 any race in the metro area and the surrounding states that had altitude. He was a pretty fast dude, could TT and stage race as well. It was honor cycling next to him. Apparently the sponsor owns the trademark to Acme with Wile E. Coyote. After the big chicane at Highgrade I pulled a U-turn so's I can make it to my son's bud's party down the hill where I'm going to eat ice cream and pizza. Total it up at the truck: 54 miles in three hours. That's ite. There goes my girl-ish figure for March! As I was pedaling with a fast cadence my left hamstring cramped up. Not a good sign. Just shows my intensity's too much for my lack of fitness this time of the year. Speaking of which, I'm tentatively doing my first crit today. Nervous Nelly I am and I'll probably have multiple bowel movements before we stage to the line. That's good though, gastric emptying is good for racing...

Sunday.
On the way to Niwot the mercury kept falling and falling. It was 42° F in Conifer but when I arrived in Niwot it was 37°F! As long it wasn't raining that's cool, but it was durn chilly. Lined up for the first crit of the year next to Kenny and off we go! It was amazingly fast with a bit of the jitters as would be the first criterium of the year. Nobody went down and it was a blast. With 200 meters to go I didn't get around a whole lot of people because we were cooking but Kenny whipped out a nice sprint. Covered 25 miles in 45 minutes. That's an average of 33 mph. Not bad. Nobody wanted to work in the breakaways. The only time the pack would respond was when somebody would rocket off the front; otherwise if the breaks would've just noodled a bit quicker with no response from the pack, I bet one of 'em would stayed clear. It was odd diving in a corner, sometimes 4 deep, and there's somebody below you carving a turn and somebody on top of you doing the same thing. On one particular corner I felt a handlebar end slide off my hip but nobody went down. Every now and again people's pedals were scuffing the deck as they were pedaling through corners as was I (but my pedals didn't hit the deck). Now and again somebody's carve went wide on the turns but nothing you couldn't adjust in such a way that it didn't get too exaggerated. It was a great weekend of riding.

Hopefully I can do this again one week from today.