What Was I Doing?

I have no idea…in that photo or at the race yesterday. I know that I was down in Clemson, Sc for the Tiger Rag, but the details are kinda fuzzy. The whole day just felt weird, and it probably started when I got out of bed.


Five oh damn clock. Way too damn early. Since my race time was 9:30 a.m., I had to use my math skills and figure out how much time I would need. I calculated that it would take exactly three and a half hours to do the following: drag my ass outta bed, get ready, eat a giant bowl of oatmeal, load up the bike, drive to Kings Mountain to pick up the Dirty Party Cycle, drive to some trailhead in Clemson, pickup my race goodies, and warm up. I didn’t account for a small pukey session at the top of the DPC’s neighborhood from drinking an expired generic sports drink. I made up for that by driving eighty-eight miles per hour the whole way.


We got there after a couple of wrong turns, and I got ready. I felt like shit, probably from my upset stomach and lack o’ sleep. Nevertheless, I was there to collect points for the overall series, and had no idea what I was about to ride. We started shortly after 9:30, and I played it cool. I ignored my nerves and sour tummy, and hung out with the pack of riders in my class. Without knowing the course at all, I hung with the leaders…for a while.



What an odd photo. Oh yeah, my photographer is on vacation. Thanks DPC…for realz.


After seeing my temporary photographer, I forgot that I was racing, and decided to morph into Bigfoot. It was way more fun anyway.



I pushed, but fell back from the lead group about halfway through lap one. I guessed that I was in the middle of the pack somewhere, but I was taking my time and “feeling” out the trail. At one point I passed a guy in my class with a flat tire, but he got back by me eventually. I didn’t let anyone else get by me, but I was wearing down…and fast. There was a really long, downhill fireroad section that I got to haul ass on (getting up to around 30 m.p.h.), and I thought that I could use that to put a gap on the guys behind me. Towards the end though, there was around a mile long climb out, and I was suffering in the humid conditions. All I could think of at that point was that I have to do that one more time on lap two.


I was defeated, and only halfway through. As I rounded the corner to go out for lap two, I heard a bystander say, “They’re not far ahead. You can still catch them and make the podium.”


“Bullshit,” I thought.


I knew what I was up against on lap two, and it worried me. My body was not cooperating after only nine and a half miles, but there was no way in hell I was going to quit. I could handle it, but could I keep from dropping back to DFL? I was a little motivated by those random comments from that kind stranger, but I wondered if I had it in me to catch them. All I wanted to do was sit down and take a break for a spell, and resume the race when I felt up to it. I couldn’t do that of course, but I can sure as shit do that here.


I”ll be back tomorrow with the conclusion, ‘cause I like making y’all suffer too.

Headed South

This is yet another weekend for travel, and I’m not the only one that’s going somewhere. Tomorrow, my main man Lunchbox is making his summer pilgrimage to Orlando, Florida. He’s not one of those morons that will be waiting in line to watch the trial of the century though. He’s actually going down there to spend a few weeks with his mom, since she still lives down there. I will miss him, but I’m sure he’s glad to get to see her. He’ll certainly miss North Carolina, since Florida kinda sucks these days. There won’t be any beach visits, trips to Disney, or anything fun like that. Instead of the usual reasons people travel to Florida, he’ll probably just be riding his skateboard around in the hot sun on flat roads. Hopefully Mr. Shepherd can meet up with him to hang out while he’s there. Six weeks won’t go by fast enough for us both, that’s for sure.


As for me, it’s time for another race in the Southern Classic Series. This weekend’s race is being held down in Clemson, South Carolina. It’s called the Tiger Rag, and we’ll be racing on the Issaqueena Lake Trails. Just like always, it will another race on a trail I’ve never ridden. I haven’t heard anything (good or bad) about the trails down there, but it will most likely be hot. That will be a big change from last week’s race, and I’m cool with that.


My race starts at 9:30 a.m., so I’ll have to leave my house at 5:30 a.m. to make the three hour drive down there and have time for packet pickup and other junk. I’m not looking forward to getting up so early, but I am looking forward to racing again. This is the last race for a while in this series, since there is nothing scheduled for July. I’ll have to find something to do for a month or so to keep my skills up I guess.


In other news, I have some new stuff coming my way. One is a major upgrade for The Big O, which I should be picking up later today. Hopefully I’ll get a chance to install this mystery upgrade and talk about it next week sometime. I probably won’t do anything the day or two before the race though. I’d rather not spend my kid’s last night here having him watch me install new bike parts. That doesn’t sound like much fun. Saturday will be a no go too, since it’s bad luck (for me anyway) to change bike stuff out the day before a race. I might not be able to fight it though, so look for an epic fail coming soon to a blog near you.


The other thing is something I’ll wait to talk about. I won’t have this particular item for a while, so you’ll have to wait too. It’s not that big of a deal, but I’m pretty excited about it. See y’all Monday with a race report, because at least I can talk about that. Until then, drink up.

One Man Party

When I put up a video of my riding adventures, that’s usually what it is: a one man party. The last video I did though, was the small-screen debut of Lunchbox. It made for a much nicer video, and not just because he’s got skills. Nope, I noticed that videos of trail riding are much easier to watch when there is another rider to watch who’s actually in front of the camera. It just gives a better perspective, methinks.


Anyway, I put together yet another blockbuster film, but this time I am the star. The rest of the video I took at the Forks Area Trail System involved a different camera angle, and I am pleased with how it turned out. I basically mounted the camera on Lunchbox’s helmet and pointed it backwards. Now you get to stare at me the whole time. Excellent.





Okay, enough of the silly bullshit. Let’s get to the sillier bullshit: my pathetic video (and riding) skills. Enjoy.

Back To Normal

As normal as things can get around here, that is. After going through the mess that was the 8th race in theSouthern Classic Series, I had a little work to do.


Remember this?




When I got home from the race, all I had time to do was rinse some of the mud off and lube the chain to keep it from rusting. I finally got a chance for a thorough cleaning yesterday, and also took a little time to inspect my shifty bits and other parts for damage. Luckily, I didn’t find any major issues, save for the fact that I need some new brake pads. I kind of needed those anyway, but riding around in the sloppy mess that was Beech Mountain probably made it worse. Simple enough fix, but I’ll have to actually find some pads here locally. No big deal I guess.



With The Big O all shiny and clean, I turned my thoughts to the actual race experience. This is usually the part where I bitch and moan about how shitty the event was, but I’m not doing that this time. I think overall it was a pretty good event. I can’t blame the promoter for the bad weather. In fact, I’m thankful that the race wasn’t cancelled. We don’t usually get to ride in the mud around here in Charlotte, so it was a nice change of pace. Sure it was tough, dangerous, etc., but it was still more fun than watching two fat girls on a seesaw eating twinkies. Come on, you know that would be fun to watch. Yuck.


Anyway, I didn’t really have any issues getting to the event. The last turn off the civilized road was marked, and once I started driving on the gravel road I knew where I was going. The registration/packet pickup process was pretty painless too, and for that I can certainly shout out to the volunteers. There was a little chaos here and there, but no more than any other race I’ve been to. In fact, when it started raining they put up another tent for all us racing folks to huddle under. They really worked hard to put on a great race and it showed.


I can criticize the course a bit though. Sure, the conditions were shitty due to the weather, but the trail didn’t seem like it was that great to begin with. I’ll chalk that up to the fact that it is pretty new, and it will probably be awesome when it gets good and packed in. It did have a nice flow to it, and I probably would have enjoyed it more if it wasn’t so slippery. The actual race course was a different story though. I was confused every once in a while out there due to insufficient course markings, and more than a few folks told me the same thing. The first turn into the singletrack wasn’t marked well, but that was because the wind/rain knocked down the sign and caution tape.


Don’t get me wrong; it was fun. To me, the suffering is the best part. The challenge of riding in less than ideal conditions, coupled with the fact that I had to think about where I was going all the time made for a great time out there. I do these races for the challenge, and if they were easy I would probably give it up. Overall, the folks at Pirate Race Productions did a fine job, and I hope I get a chance to go back there next year. In much better (and drier) conditions though. For now, I’ll just hang around and wait for the next race.

Sloppy Seconds

Contrary to the comment I received on yesterday’s post by the Dirty Party Cycle, I did not win my Southern Classic Series race. I did however, score a small victory: I raced and survived. During a clearing of the weather, the cross country races went off, and my group was up next. We all had no idea what we would be in for, but we were giving it a shot.



We discussed our race strategy, which was basically just to survive. The goal was to keep from sliding off of the mountain on the muddy trails, and to keep shit from breaking (on us and our bikes.) There didn’t seem to be any competitive spirit, and it looked like we were just going out for a group ride. We took off from the start line, and Lunchbox took pictures of the surrounding mountains for some reason.



And, we were off. We started on this really steep gravel road, and it went on forever. Up, up, up, and then up some more. Two guys in front of me were in their granny gears, and they were spinning away. Since I am a 1X9er, I just suffered until my legs burned, and then suffered some more. It was gonna be a long day.


We got to the top of the road, but we were a little confused. The entrance to the singletrack was not clearly marked (which would turn out to be a recurring theme for the day), so we all had to turn around to get back on track. Once we hit the trail, it was up some more. This time though, it was on muddy, sloppy singletrack. It was difficult to keep traction, going both uphill and down. The leader was getting away, but I was happy to keep my pace.


My pal David was in front of me, and having a helluva time staying on the trail (as was I.) He offered to let me pass, but I didn’t bite at first. I figured that once I did, it would wear me out and he would catch up and pass me by again later. Eventually though I gave in, and took off. I let it all hang out and tried my best to stay on course, and it worked (barely.) I was sliding all over the place, but I kept myself and the bike (mostly) pointed in a straight line. I tried my best to put a big gap between me and David, in case he started getting frisky.


I think my plan worked, since he was nowhere to be found. The trail was a miserable, muddy mess, but I was doing fairly well. On the downhill stuff, I just kept a loose grip on the bars and let the bike do it’s own thing. On the uphill stuff I climbed whatever I could, and ran my bike up the rest. Since I was having a small amount of success, I started kicking it up a notch to try and catch the leader. I didn’t think he would be too far ahead.


I kept looking at my bike computer, counting the miles to the finish. I wanted this shit to be over with, and it wasn’t happening fast enough. I don’t know if it was the altitude or the extra ten pounds of mud on my bike, but I was getting tired…fast. At one point I came out into a clearing, which started a nice downhill section. After recovering a bit, it was back to climbing.


It was the same old muddy mess. Up, down, walk, run, ride, slip, etc. At one point I tried to hop off my bike to run up a hill and fell over in the bushes. That was my only “crash”, but I was still frustrated. It was difficult to ride in that crap, but for some reason I was still having fun. I pushed myself through it, and soon saw my reward. The trail opened up again, and I got a nice view of the surrounding mountains. Suddenly I felt energized, and put the hammer back down to get back in the woods.


With not very far to go, I gave it whatever I had left. I could hear the music from the start/finish line, and I knew I was close. I crossed a spectator area, and went right back into the singletrack. The music was fading, and I thought I had made a wrong turn. I was nervous, until I came out on a fireroad. Lunchbox was waiting there with the camera, and I was happy to see him.



Also standing there was my pal and fellow Internets celebrity Dwayne, and he directed me to the finish. He also told me that first place guy wasn’t far ahead. I didn’t have time to catch him, but I still hauled ass to the finish. It was over, and not a moment too soon. To celebrate the fact that I finished, I posed for a photo…right next to the shitter.



The trail was a muddy mess, but I hardly had any on me. In fact, several of our local Dirt Divas commented on how clean I was (I think they just liked how I looked in my Bike29 kit.) In reality, my bike held onto most of the mud.





It was a tough day. We almost didn’t race, but I’m glad I got to do it (mostly so I would have something to talk about on here.) It took all I had to finish, and I was rewarded with a second place medal for my efforts.



There was no podium action because it started raining again, so I was just handed a medal underneath a tent. It was good enough for me, because I had to earn it and I was proud of that fact. Sloppy seconds is better than sitting at home on the couch doing nothing. Sometimes you never know what you are capable of doing until you actually get out and do it.

I Earned It

From getting there, to the conditions on the mountain, and the actual riding of the trails, I had to earn every bit of reward I could possibly get at the 8th race in theSouthern Classic Series, the Magic Cycles American Mountain Bike Challenge Weekend.


After a nearly three hour drive to get to Beech Mountain (including a stop to pick up the Dirty Party Cycle), I turned onto a road that looked sorta odd (the photo above.) I thought I had made a wrong turn, until someone came barreling in the other direction with bike racks on their vehicle. We were really close, but damn it was a rough journey. The weather even looked shitty on the way up, but it sort of cleared when we got to the top of the mountain.


Parking was tight, but the views were great:




There were a lot of people ready to race, but the weather had other plans. The sky opened up with buckets of rain, and the temperature dropped…a lot. I was freezing my nips off out there, and I came unprepared for a cold spell. I mean damn, it is the middle of June after all. I figured it wouldn’t be so bad when I started racing, since I would warm up. There was lightning in the sky above though, which made the race status uncertain.


We would end up waiting around for a bit to see if we would even race. A few people decided to bail, but I wouldn’t be one of them. I would race as long as there was a race to race, but I had no control over that. Eventually it stopped raining, and the race was back on. I knew the trail conditions wouldn’t be so great, but damn it I was getting out there. I didn’t drive all the way from Charlotte for nothing, but I was still contemplating my decision.



I didn’t want to get my Bike29 team kit dirty.


A few of the other categories went out, and it was finally our turn. What happened, you ask? You came here today for a race report? Oh, sorry. That will be tomorrow. I have to take a little time and dissect what happened out there. It was a mess, that’s for sure.

Mile High Weekend

Get your mind out of the gutter. Of course I’m talking about riding my bike in the mountains. This mountain ride with be a first for me though: a race at Beech Mountain, NC. I’ve never ridden there, let alone raced. There is a ski resort there, but I won’t be doing any of that crazy downhill shit. I’ll be doing another cross country race in the Southern Classic Series, which is one of several races in the Magic Cycles American Mountain Bike Challenge Weekend.



I don’t really know shit about the course, except what I found on the website:


Cross Country course is 5 miles of rolling, rooty, tight single track, with one short section on gravel road and another under the power lines, all between 4,900 and 5,300 feet elevation, with no sustained climbs – this is NOT the old ski area course.

Cross-country course distances subject to change contingent on riding conditions – regardless of distance, target winning times are 1 hour for Cat 3, 1:30 for Cat 2, and 2 hours for Cat 1.


My class is supposed to do two laps (I think), so that must mean it’s pretty tough. You know, with a target winning time of 1 hour (or 1:30 since I’m not sure if we are doing the Cat 2 or Cat 3 distance.)


There is a shitload of information on the website, but I’m still a little confused. I do know what time I start, so I’ll have to leave my house at around 6:30 a.m. Sunday morning to get there in time for packet pickup, warm ups, wiping my ass, and whatever else I need to do. Shit, I just hope I can find the place. This kind of race fits nicely with how I like to do things though: on the fly. I’ll hopefully be there when the race starts, and ride until it’s over. Simple enough.


I’ll probably do my usual, starting out hot and then falling back fast. The elevation is a bit of a concern, since the race takes place at around 5000 feet. That may not sound bad to those of you that live in the “real” mountains, but for a former Florida boy it feels like I’m about to tackle Mount Everest. Oh joy. I guess that means I probably shouldn’t stay up all night on Saturday drinking beer. I may have to abstain from my hoppy treats until after the race. Damn it.