This ain't FL

...remember, I'm from the South. Ain't is a word down there...ain't it?

Well the trip to FL for the Santos 12 hour did not happen for a few reasons, but pretty much no reason.....kind of a sore spot right now.

But today was a great three and a half hour tour of French Creek with about ten other Guy's (and a couple gals too) riders in the snow. Trails were starting to get a little nasty the last 15-20 min's, but a great ride over all.

Still, was not FL...

Here's a question...

What's rises 4727 feet in 7.6 miles, has nearly a 12% average grade that then turns into a 22% grade section at the top?

Need more...."it's the biggest climb in the NE, and often dubbed the toughest hillclimb in North America."

You still drawing a blank?

I give you my next stupid trick.

Snotcycle...

or better yet, the SNOTiceCYCLE.

Kind of at the last minute Wifey and I decided to head down and to Snotcycle down in VA. It was mostly just to scout out the course for the upcoming Baker's Dozen, but we also had a number of friends coming too (even thou I did not get to do much BSing.)

The race promoter sent out an email Thursday night if this as the headline: "The trail is an ice sheet, it'll probably be crunchy, muddy, and just plain nasty for the race."

Got to give this it the boy, he don't lie.

After watching Jason, Fort James and that woman I live with roll out for the Sport start I headed back to the car (and the heat on full blast) to regain the feeling in my fingers. Then of course the pre race stomach crap starts, so off to the Porta John.

Let's just say sitting in one of these love machines is not where you want to be when it's 25 degrees....or a gust of wind comes rolling thru and comes up from the bottom.....nothing like starting a XC race with frostbite on your junk.

But onto the good stuff, not my ice stalactite....sorry, I had to.

The race did not start as fast as a normal XC given all the ice and snow, but trail was just as we were told it would be....icy, but very ridable....you just had to watch your cornering. I ended the trail head around 8th of the 30 plus men in the expert/pro field and felt really good.

The first lap things just felt in slow motion for a XC race, I felt like I was in an endurance race because we just could not hammer as fast as we could. In a nutshell it was go as hard as you could in the straight areas, pull up when you see a corner coming and just try to glide thru the the corner then repeat.

On the second lap my shifting went to crap. The rear stopped shifting completely, but with a little luck I was big ringing it up front. Wifey got this at the end of the second lap:

You can kind of see that the trail was changing from ice to mud where the sun was, so once again the name Snotcycle was balls on...a little more on that "mud" to come.

The third lap we had a lot more mud in the fields where the sun was melting the ice sheets, but the trails themselves were getting better. They were still snow/ice, but they were starting to get a little grip to them.

The last lap started just as the third did, I passed the guy in the picture above crossing the timing mats (he past me both times on a climb I could not gear down for....zero shifting and a monster gear) He, I and a third guy (just in front of us) BS'ed most of the race, was one of those races.

Knowing I had to gain time on the spots where I could I pushed a little hard then I wanted to in the first few hundred meters of the trailhead. I went by my BS partner up front that earlier joked "the last lap it's every man for himself" and continued to push for a couple minutes till I heard nothing behind me.

On an open flat road (mud) section about a third of the way thru I look back and saw no one for 200-300 meters. That when I took a few deep breaths and started thinking about the "mud" covering my face, and even in my mouth. The course runs threw a cow pasture and if I was one cow patty I was a thousand...and we were riding threw them.

So you get the point on the "mud." Something seams wrong about a vegetarian not eating meat, but being ok with having cow ass in your mouth....I'll need to check the vegetarian handbook on that one.

So things ended as they were, never see my riding partners again. But the first thing I wanted to do have seeing why the Hell I could not shift was get the cow ass off me.

Why lick your lips when they're covered in ass?

The shift was east to figure out once I look at the drivetrain. Both the middle/small gears up front and the rear cassette were blocks of ice. It was kind of cool to see at first....but then it took my body about two minutes to felt just like them.

I knew I was out of the payout range so my main concern was not gettin hypothermia, so it was off to dry clothes and the heat of the car. The violent shivering took about 20-30 minutes to stop but then the nausea kicked in because I did not eat during or after the race. But after a recovery bar and sitting in the passenger seat in the fetal position for an hour things started to come back.

Still a little fuzzy on my placing, but Wifey was thinking 6-8th (I'm thinking 10-12th range) of the 40ish person field. Results should be out in a few days, I'll threw a number up then.

Also want to throw a shout out to Fort James, Wifey told me you were 3-4th. Great job man, you and Jason had a HUGE freakin field of riders out there.

Today it's gonna hit the mid 40's, so that will put me out on the fixie for a recovery spin.....and then maybe get tested for mad cow.

One by one...

or slow and slower. No, not me riding (that's just straight slow all the time) I mean the race schedule.

The race is three months away, but Wifey and I are in for the Leesburg Baker's Dozen down in VA. After being locked on the outside looking in on this race last year (it's capped at 400 riders total, counting teams) I signed us both up on day one....and I'm glad I did. I looked at it this morning and it's already at 210 riders, with just under 50 of those being solo men.

Still kicking around the idea of heading down to the course next weekend for a XC race....more so just to scout things out, not ready to go head to head in a XC yet. Don't have the high end cardio kicking right now, remember this is beer drinking...I mean base miles season.

French Creek and a WTF

First off the WTF.

For those that don't know (and I just don't care) the Eagles and Steelers are both in the playoffs for whatever retarded sport they play....yes, that was a joke....just a pissy one.

But to the WTF. Today while Wifey and I were on the PA turnpike to French Creek to meet a few other Guys riders I pointed to the chick in the passenger seat to look at the traffic alert sign (or whatever those big lighted signs that warn you about traffic, accidents, snow/ice or even randon hots chicks in need of help are called.)

But what does this sign says that our tax paying dollars are paying for? "Go Eagles" Not anything about the snow we were driving thru, the ice on the road etc. Just one more reason I hope they lose.

But as I said, we meet a group for what was a great ride at French Creek. The trails were perfect, about an inch of snow just to soften all the rocks...no ice and lots of traction. Two and a half hours of fun in the snow....and even with my clothes on this time.

And I still hate the Eagles, their coach, QB and most of all the crappy fans. If they're winning they love'em, if they lose. "They lost just to piss me off, fire the coach, trade the QB" etc, etc. Then after the next win, we've got the best team in the world, the best coach, best players...we're the greatest.

Come on Cardinals, or whomever they're playing....and once again I'll stand down from my soapbox

Misery

So I gave into Glenn's evil again yesterday and went out for a ride in the cold. It started the same, with only feeling the wind on a small area of the face....and once again after the turn north things were great.

I loved the looks we were getting from people in cars at stop signs and red lights. Nothing like looking at someone in a car with the heat on full blast wearing a hooded sweatshirt giving you a are you nuts look....I loved it, and that got me thinking.

After an hour of thinking on numerous things I came to the conclusion that I love misery. I'm not talking getting my ankles broken by some old ugly fat lady, I'm talking about epic conditions. I can't tell you the number of times I've heard fellow competitors in races or just friends on rides bitch about the wind, rain, temp, mud or how they're having a bad hair day.

I'm not saying I can handle anything (I've bailed on more than one race in my life) but you're not gonna hear me bitchin about it....and is it wrong to love seeing other people going thru misery? Or better yet, do everything in your power to show them you're not?

Don't get me wrong, I don't want anybody to get hurt, I just loving seeing how people react to adverse things. I may never be able to beat the other 95% of endurance and XC racers out there just because so much of this game is genetics. But I'd like to think I can mentally push myself further then other do, or will.

I'll stand down from my soapbox now. Not sure where all that just came from....but there you have it.

And with that, Damien and I are heading out again this morning......and with the temp sitting at 8 degrees, I'm sure I'll be getting those looks again.

Glenn...

For those of you that don't know I have an evil twin, his name is Glenn. We're both Gemini's so we have our two sides, but he being the evil one....well both his sides are evil. Pretty much being a prick and a jackass are his two favorite things....and somewhere in there pissing me off comes into play.

Well Glenn wanted to go riding today, even thou the temps were maxing out in the mid 20's and the wind was 10-15 mph. I tried talking him into just doing the trainer thing, the Aero stepper in the basement or better yet nothing at all.

After failing once again I start to repair myself to follow his evil plan. Next thing I know we're rollin out the door and to my surprise things felt fine. The legs felt spunky after the week off and the temp was not a problem.....until we turned into the wind.

Even thou I only had an inch or so of my forehead exposed it felt like that was being stabbed my a thousand knifes. I keep trying to change the angle of my head to somewhat get the wind blast off my forehead, but nothing was working.....and I was to the point of says "screw you guys, I'm going home."

But we made a turn north (out of the facial) and I stopped my crying.

An hour and a half later we pulled back into the house, the ride rocked and I felt great. Or in the words of the Master. So even thou it pains me to do so, I have to thank the evil one for dragging me off the couch....but he's still a prick.