Sunday, August 17, 2014

This Bud's for you....

 Yeah, I said it....this Bud's for you...Bud.


I can say I've never been a big Bud fan. Don't get me wrong, I've had my hands on more then a pair here and there. But if we're still talking about what beers I prefer, I'd go elsewhere. If not I'd go more this direction...
  


But...back to the Bud.

Wifey and I headed up to the old hood Friday afternoon/evening...partly to ride one of our old trail systems, but mostly to see an older friend....and by older I mean he's older...then me. For the purpose of this post and/or blog we'll now call him (Big Bad Bud.)

BBB's a guy I've ridden with a bit since moving from FL to PA ten years ago...and the "bit" is because he's always been out of my league as a rider, but from time to time he slums it...enter our rides together.

So BBB slum'd it once again...and I gotta say, I miss those trails. Sure, it's only an hour loop, but that's more rocks then I've seen/felt in the past two years...and muscles hurt today that I've not felt in that same time frame.

After the ride was the best part.

BBB and and his perfect little wife (let's call her Lionel) had us over for dinner and drinks....and drinks.

BBB and Lionel do nothing halfass. Lionel should be a party planner in Hollywood and BBB would give you the shirt off his back. They're what I call good people...and I'd call them both very good people.

But the blog...

BBB's asked me more then once about why I've stopped posting so much. So...ok, ok...I'm back, but the truth is I missed blogging.

But to the end of this bla, bla, bla.....back to the beer....what's the only thing wrong with this picture...


 ....yeah, the frig's full of crap beer.....

Sunday, March 23, 2014

Pissypants

Yeah, Mr Pissypants....

Ok, I may or may not have pist myself during an/or more then an endurance race. My years in the military I may have done worse...but most of that's off record.

But I'm fracking pissy.

I an nutshell I have a hamstring issue, and after a month of therapy I thought I was at 75% and feeling little pain during runs/rides....but, as normal I was wrong.

I hope I'm just feeling lingering tightening from yesterdays long ride, but halfway thru the ride today I had my man card pulled.....ok, not really. But I pulled my own man card.

The worst part...is letting a friend down. He really wanted to ride in tandem at a four hour MTB race next weekend. My plan was to destroy myself just to stay with him, but after today....I'd be dead weight. Pissyness, pissyness....

But there's goals out there.....not a pile of blow, a couple hookers, a midget and a chainsaw kind of goals...but goals.

But an ex did send this picture last week...


...it was bike week in Daytona...let it slide.

Tomorrow's post....less pissy and more history....but no more pictures.

Till then I'm burying myself in the bottom of empty beer bottles.

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Toolbags...

...yeah, I'm going there.

SO! Wifey and I may have put on a race or two over the past few years ourselves, and we may have helped friends put on races over the past few years too...

...breathing in, breathing out....

I'll start by saying you can't please everyone, and there's always going to be THAT guy/gal. And if you're THAT guy/gal stop reading now...because you're just gonna get pist, or pissier...because you're already a pist off at the world piece of shit.

Helpful hint number one. NEVER get pist at a race promotor. If you've never put on a race, or even helped... you have no fracking idea the number of hours that these people put into putting on a race.

Helpful hint number two. Pay attention to the course, all racing courses are marked...breath in, breath out....pay attention!!!

Helpful hint number three. If you see something that went wrong, or something that could be improved, just tell the promotor...or someone on the promotion staff.

Helpful hint number four. NEVER, for any fracking reason get in a promotors face and cause an issue...period!!

...breathing in, breathing out.

I'll end this with saying this....I have a new best friend at running races....I'm really looking forward to talking to him when I see him next race....but he may not see the starting line.

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

"Grey would be...

So...first off, I'm sorry.

For what you ask? I have no idea...and not that I'd care in the first place. But I'll put a story to it.

At several points in my past (none recent) the best way I'd describe myself was:


Not trying to say I was depressed, Goth (that was more of the Wifey's area) or even moody....I just did not care. Things could have been going well, or I could have been in the middle of a shit storm....I was just numb to any feelings.

So why am I being Mr Sad Pants....guess I had one of those days yesterday. I met Wifey and other friends lastnight to climb and I was numb. At best I gave one word answers to questions, others I just stared at the wall like I was trying to work out a route and gave no response.

Several asked if I was ok, or had a bad day...and like I said, at best they got a one word answer. I felt wrong in doing it, because these are people I care about. I was not in a bad mood, I was just mentally not around...I was not mentally anywhere.

So, I'll call it a Grey Day. But now bring on some sunshine, dancing teddy bears and for good measure let's add a stripper into the fun.


Thursday, February 13, 2014

Two, Two Years....

Ok, not really the same as...

...but where the hell did two years go?

Well, I'll give ya a quickie...but, now I sound like the Wife...still and always my rock.


 We've got a new house, in a new state. I started doing that four lettered word again....work.


Changed to a Race Team. Started a couple new activities...

 

 Some are going better the other...


Got a new puppy..now a year old. 

 Atleast some one likes all this damn snow.

But lots of other things will never change, more on that later...I promise, because I need a change.

Monday, December 26, 2011

The return of the Blog

Inside jokes may be used here at and where I see fit...and only those on the "inside" know of the "at and where"

Beep.......................beep.................beep....beep, beep, beep.

IT'S ALIVE!!!!

Rumor has it that this's the time of year that blogs bog down and or died all together. I say NO blog world.... let the blog world be reborn.

I give you my Monday..


three of the best people I know.....why I'm here I have no idea.....if they only knew.

Today could have been a great day of riding...first time on a trail that was perfect, I was riding great, looking great, and did not have a flask of vodka on the bike.

So why was today not great......Bacon.

The ride started out heated so I tried for the hole shot and was cut off at the last second.....by Bacon.

Then Bacon spent the next 90 minutes slowing me down, cutting me off when I tried to attack and over all being a newb to the cycling world.


I believe Bacon's problem and overall disregard to cycling etiquette was that I was covering all of his attacks even thou I was on a SS....and he knowing he could never ride such a bike.

Two hours later (and as I was just getting warmed up) we returned to the cars....Bacon was destroyed, the blistering pace that I was pushing him to go just crushed his weak body. He made some lame excuse about needing to get to an underwater basket weaving class, quickly loaded his car and left.

.....weak.

Afterwards the rest of us celebrated at Deer Park over popcorn, a few beers....and one Hell of a humus sandwich.

Plus some how I came home with extra beer in the car....win.

Some, little or none of this story may be true.....also names may or may not been changed. So to take one thing from this waste of your time? The blog's back baby....and for playing along I leave you with a parting gift...

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Iron Hill Enduro

After being "blamed" by a friend for "planting the seed" to do the endurance race over the XC, I knew the Iron Hill Challenge was gonna be a little more painful then normal.

Having ridden the course a few laps the week before I knew five laps was my target.....with timing for a sixth to be very close. The course was a little over seven miles long, 90% single track with three main climbs, lots of roots/rocks and a couple of "bowl" drop-ins........fast, dry and fun.

With 75ish riders lined up for the endurance race I knew I wanted to get into the single track in the lead group.....little did I know we'd be chasing a little white rabbit up the road once the starting gun went off.....
Most who read this blog know this man already, and just how many riders legs his have ripped off (whether on a mountain, cross or road bike.) Now he was here to take out the "blame" on us helpless little enduro riders. If you're the one person in the world that may not know this destroyer of legs we'll call him the other, other "White Meat" to protect the innocent...and just because I'm hungry.

Once the gun went off White Meat drilled it up the gravel road.....crap! A few of us very unhappily gave chase knowing he'd back off in a minute....except he didn't. A minute later we headed into the pit area "tent city" as a group of 6-7 riders before heading out on our first lap. After a couple of tight corners boxed us back up White Meat gave up the lead just before we entered the single track. Luckily the twists and turns slowed things down a little before I started to count the stars that were already forming in the corners of my eyes.

By the time we peaked the second climb I was riding 7th (anchor) along with Ben A. and White Meat, with 2 thru 4 in a pack just ahead....1st was never to be seen by us again. The three of us rode well together for the next 10-15 minutes, but shortly after we topped the third climb Ben came around White Meat and then it happened.

Just after dropping into "slime hill" (a short steep descent) Ben went down in what sounded like a train wreck. When I came over the top Ben was wrapped inside his bike still sliding down the hill. As we stopped White Meat told Ben not to move, and then again. As White Meat helped Ben out of his bike I started to run back up the trail to find the course marshal we'd just seen and warn oncoming riders. After finding someone to walk Ben out we headed back to our bikes, losing maybe fifteen minutes or so.

Now being at the tail end of the field we knew we had our work cut out for us. To steal a line from White Meat "you gotta dance with the lady you bring to the dance" and I was the fat girl in the corner with the painted toes nails....yes, really.

As we came into the pit, Lady White Meat yelled at him "what are doing back here, stop screwing around".....as laughter ensued we rolled on. The second lap we made up alot of time, with WM leading the pace we were like a hot knife cutting thru bacon fat (yes, I used the term bacon fat....now let's move along.) At an intersection just before the end of our second lap WM yelled over to his wife for a Swedish Fish "hand up" as we came in the pit....that didn't happen. As we rolled up/and on right by she was calmly snacking away on the beloved fish, WM yelled back "how do those fish taste" as out for lap three we went....fishless and mildly heartbroken.

Lap three was more of the same, me being a tick on WM's wheel as he set the pace and cleared the seas in front of us. As we ended the third lap we saw the first waves of Sport racers being launched....not where we wanted to be, but we both knew we need to pit. After a quick refuel and a short pause to let a thundering herd of Sport riders charge by out we headed again.

The next lap was less than pleasurable making our way thru the waves of riders, but I was shocked at how calmly WM took it.....even after a couple of near misses. At the end of our forth lap I was starting to fade a little and WM yelled ahead as we entered the pit to hand me a Coke. It definitely helped, or atleast delayed my wheels from totally coming off. But as we headed back out WM says "you know we've got two more laps in us right?" I'm not even sure if I replied anything at that point, but I knew he was right.....and all I could think was crap.

WM started giving me a countdown of the number of hills we had to climb, "6" I heard as we started the first...midway up I started to feel slight cramping in my left hamstring. A few passed riders later (and spots picked up) I hear "5" and then "4" with a little more cramping. At this point I start finding climbs that did not seem to be there on the first few laps and I start counting 3.9, 3.8 in my head....equally mixed on if that was the number of climbs we had left or the minutes until I detonated.

As we started our sixth lap I finally started to feel a little better. "Three" I heard, then "two." Then WM spots another enduro racer ahead, "see that guy... we can catch him." I'd already mentally flipped from what was left of my pursuit mode and into survival mode....changing back hurt, it really hurt. But on hill 1.5 we got by and passed him, then finally I hear "one." As great as it was to peak the "last climb" seeing yet another enduro rider just ahead of us was bitter sweet. I knew we had to surge again but was not sure if I could. We never had to find out, he caught a pedal on a short rocky climb and we got by without a fight.

Minutes later we headed into the tent city for the last couple of hundred yards to the finish. After a little gamesmanship I went.......

I was fueled by the smell of hotdogs and beer in the air...and knowing I was about to eat Swedish Fish and drink cold beer...not to mention I knew the last rider we past was a main competitor of mine in the endurance series (he too sadly was having a bad day....four flats.) Somehow I came across the line ahead of WM, but without a doubt I'd never have made it there without him. A HUGE thanks to both He and His wife.

In the end we ended up being 12th and 13th and we both more then happy with the result. What we thought was gonna be a five lap day turned into six, and we only missed the cut off for a seventh by minutes......not that I would have lived thru it.

Also want to say thanks to Dennis Smith....
for the best Iron Hill course in years and to everyone that helped but on the race itself, was a horribly great time.