Things Are All Night Now

Last night a bunch of us got together to send off a friend that’s headed across the pond for a while.  When our group of locals here get together, it’s always a good time.  It started with sushi in a fancy restaurant (and good beer, surprisingly), then it turned into a quest to find more places to party.  I don’t need to get into the details, but I’ll tell you that towards the end of the night things started to get weird.

Um, yeah.  That’s all I’ll say about that.

So instead of telling embarrassing stories (not about me, everyone else of course), I’ll talk about something else…

With summer far behind us, every right during the week now will be at night.  Unless of course, I take a day off from work (which does happen from time to time.)  I love night riding for many reasons, some of which I can’t comprehend.  Cool air, how different the trail feels in the dark, etc.  It’s just fun for me, and I look forward to it every year.  I enjoy solitary night rides the most, but since we have our Tuesday social rides every week I get to do the group thing in the dark.  Wait, that sounded weird, huh?

Group night rides.

Our Tuesday rides are pretty awesome.  Social pace and no one gets left behind.  We stop a lot to regroup, and we spend more time shooting the shit than we do riding sometimes.  It’s a great way to get out for an easy, yet fun ride, and we obviously enjoy the social aspect of it.  Sometimes we have a huge group, and other times it’s only a couple of us.  Afterwards we go out to some nearby watering hole for beer and grub, extending the social aspect of the ride well into the night.  The ride gets us out on different trails here in Charlotte, so we don’t get tired of the same place every week. 

Our usual spot after riding at the Whitewater Center is The String Bean in nearby Belmont, NC (just across the river), and the beer selection is quite awesome.  The food was good too, but we got a little surprise.  They were having a private party out on the patio, and as we sat there drinking and eating we watched the servers roll by with some kind of delicious looking dessert.  After trying unsuccessfully to trick them into dropping off a tray at our table, we finally asked if we could get some of that yummy (okay, maybe not in those exact words.)

“Sure” replied one of the servers, “I think we have a few extras.”

And just like that we were treated to some kind of fancy post meal goodness.

It was beyond delicious.  In fact, the staff kept coming by asking us if it was good.  We were amazed, because it was definitely out of this world.

They went out of their way to take care of a bunch of smelly mountain bikers, and for that we were grateful.  We always get great food and good service there, but on our last visit they outdid themselves.  Just for that, we’ll probably have next week’s ride in the same place.

Now, if you will excuse me, I’m gonna go find some dessert to help cure this hangover.

Three To Go

Riding through lap number five, I figured that with a little under three hours to go I could get at least three more laps in.  With only one rest stop after four laps, my body didn’t really seem to mind me keeping pretty much the same pace as before.  I knew the trail very well at this point so there was no holding back.  It was a lonely lap though, since I only saw two people (one passed me and I passed another.)  Before I knew it, I was getting close to the gravel road to finish the lap.  Sticking with the “drink only a half bottle per lap” strategy, I passed the pit area and kept going.

Photo Credit: The Trail Mayor

On lap six I was getting back into a groove but I was still pretty much all alone.  It’s really difficult to motivate yourself when it’s just you out there, but I tried.  I was happy to see someone out there taking photos, because it gave me some company for a couple of seconds.

Photo cred: Brenda Brinson

I felt myself slowing down a little bit, and I’m not sure why.  I have to admit though that I was a little bored and I wanted to quit.  I was tired, but not bad enough to need rest at that very moment.  The one good thing is that my shoulder didn’t bother me one bit.  It was pretty much all mental from there on out.  As I hit the last section of singletrack before the pit area, I looked down at my Garmin and saw that I had about fifteen minutes to cross the line before the cutoff for last lap. 

As I passed the pit, I thought about stopping for a couple of minutes and “unintentionally” missing the cutoff time.  I thought better of it, and decided that I was gonna give it everything I had.  As I crossed the start/finish line thinking I had made a bad decision to keep going, I saw someone running up to the course tape with a cup in their hand yelling and screaming.  It was my buddy Lowcountry Joel, and he gave me a homebrew hard cider handup. 

Rad.

I grabbed the cup, slurped down that tasty alcoholic goodness, and tossed the empty behind me.  Suddenly I perked up like Popeye eating his spinach, and gunned it through the first section of singletrack.  It seems that I now had some motivation.

I hauled ass as fast as my legs would let me, knowing that every time I passed a section of trail it would be my last for the day.  I was yelling and screaming around every corner like a kid at a playground, and jumping over every little root I could find just to have a little fun.  One root in particular sent me up in the air quite a bit, and I came down just inches in front of a copperhead stretched across the trail.  I had no choice but to run him over.  Somewhere out there is a snake with a Maxxis Ardent tire print on his head.  I felt bad about that for a little while, but I got over it.

Shit happens.

Coming up to the last section of trail, I was getting tired and cramping a little.  I knew the end was near though, so I picked up the pace.and gunned it for the gravel road.  I sprinted down towards the finish line as fast as my one gear would let me and as usual Lunchbox was waiting there for me.

Photo cred:  Lunchbox

He seemed pretty proud of me, and I guess I was too.  I only figured I’d get six laps in six hours, even though I secretly had hoped for eight.  At the halfway point I was on pace for eight, but it just wasn’t gonna happen.  Lunchbox still said I did well, and told me to look tired so he could take another picture.

“No problem”, I said.

  

Nearly sixty miles in six hours wore me out, but I had so much fun.  Coming back from a shoulder injury I sustained just eight weeks prior meant that I wasn’t in peak shape or anything but I still felt pretty good out there.   I ended up sixth, which was enough out of last place to make me happy.  Now that I think about it though, last place would’ve been okay too. 

I won against myself.  I even took home some swamp sand as a prize.

The Longest Day

Five o’clock in the morning seems to be much earlier on a weekend for some reason.  I had no choice to get up that early to make it in time to the start of the Brunswick Brawl, and even though Lunchbox did have a choice, he was up with me.  We loaded up the bikes and headed three and a half hours southeast down near Wilmington to the Brunswick Nature Park, where Eastwood and his better half had already staked a claim on a primo pit location.  I knew it was gonna be a good day, since I had fueled up on the way down.

 Shhh, it’s my secret weapon.  I planned to lay a cloud of stink all over my competition.

Registration was quick and painless, even with the sweet new tattoo they gave me.

 Photo credit from here on out:  Lunchbox

Before I knew it I was getting ready…

And it was time for the pre-race meeting.

It was the same old instructions for pretty much every race I’ve ever done, so I started looking around for alligators.  I didn’t want a mean one to sneak up on me on the course.  They didn’t say anything about that in the meeting but I was concerned just the same.  Mama says alligators are ornery because they got all them teeth and no toothbrush. 

This guy said it’s because they have an enlarged medulla oblongata.

No Colonel Sanders, you’re wrong.

Where was I?  Oh yeah, it was time to go.  A few minutes after ten, we took off.  I told Eastwood prior to the start not to get caught up in all that “racing”, and to just find his own pace.  What I should’ve told him was to “not do the dumb shit I do.”  I spun like crazy to get up in the front of the pack, which was apparently too quick for Lunchbox to get a photo of me.

I went into the woods up near the front, my only goal being to make people work to get around me.  A few people with gears did just that when they could, but I was moving along pretty quick in the woods.  It was too quick though, because pretty soon I saw Eastwood pulling up behind me just as I was starting to slow down.  I was already worn out, my body shocked from putting out so much effort without being ready for it.  I pushed it even harder though, and eventually I found my groove.  I was trying to be careful since I didn’t know the trail, but I was still quite reckless.

I passed a few people here and there, and a few passed me.  I was holding my own on too small of a gear and on unfamiliar trail.  Before I knew it (about forty minutes later), I was on the fire road and nearly finished with lap one.  I had only consumed half of a water bottle, so I decided I wouldn’t stop at the pit.  I blasted by and got ready to hit the now familiar trail.

I settled into a good pace, pedaling the whole time since it was pretty flat.  There were barely any climbs that required standing, so I was in for a long day in the saddle.  Lap two was about the same pace, and by that time I had finally finished one water bottle.  I passed the pit again (at a little under the hour and a half mark), tossing my empty bottle in the grass nearby. 

Lap three was just the same, except that we were a little more spread out.  Once in a while someone with gears would fly by, and occasionally I would pass someone just a bit slower than me.  I was feeling pretty damn awesome with three laps in, and with another half of a water bottle consumed I blew by the pit again and headed out for lap number four. 

That’s when my fast pace started to get to me.  I didn't think I was really slowing down, and I could definitely feel the effects of spending all that time in the saddle spinning like crazy.  My neck was getting a little tight from taking a beating with the rigid fork (it was kinda rooty out there), and I was starting to get a wee bit tired.  I ate a couple of Honey Stinger shots when I had the chance, and finished the rest of my second bottle.  I tried not to slow down anymore, and when I got on the last section of singletrack I saw my kid there waiting for me.

Four laps in, and I had been out there a little under three hours.  I was on pace for eight laps, but since I was out of water I had to stop for a refill.  I took that opportunity to eat a little more, and with all that shit sloshing around in my stomach I hopped back in the saddle and took off again.

This time just a little bit slower. 

I was halfway through, and hoping like hell I had it in me to keep up such a ridiculous pace to finish.  My legs felt pretty good still, and even that pesky shoulder injury didn’t bother me.  With the cheers of the bystanders near the star/finish line firing me up, I gunned it through the woods on lap number five.

I was a just a little tired, probably like you are of today’s post.

I’ll finish up tomorrow. 

Play Hard, Because Work Sucks

That’s pretty much how I feel today.  Even though my real job isn’t so bad (most of the time), I still don’t want to be here.  I’d much rather have nothing but weekends so I can go out and play.  I tend to cram so much shit into my two days off that I absolutely dread coming into work on Mondays.  I know most people do, but trust me, it’s worse for me.

So, you probably showed up here today for a “race” report from the Brunswick Brawl, right?  Well, I don’t really feel like recapping everything right now.  I’ll do that tomorrow.  But, I’ll answer the burning question, “Did you beat Eastwood?”

Yep, but it wasn’t really a big deal. 

He did great out there for his first-ever six hour race, and I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it.  He still owes me beer, because after the race we all went to Hooters and they have shitty beer.  We did however, have something called a “Strip Cheese.”

It was actually pretty good, even though they look less than thrilled.

Before I get into the rest of the weekend, I’d like to tell you about the trails down there at the Brunswick Nature Park.  They were FUN.  Even though it’s pretty flat down there, the trails were fast, twisty, flowy, and very well-built.  There were several man-made features, only a few of which we actually rode during the race.  I’ll probably go back down there again to ride, but just not for six hours.  Growing up in Florida, it reminded me so much of home.  I’m sure that had a lot to do with why I enjoyed it so much.  Cape Fear SORBA did a great job building trail down there in the middle of the swamp.  If you ever find yourself down that way, make some time to ride there.

The next morning after the race, Lunchbox and I realized that since we were “in the swamp”, we should probably try to get out to see some swamp critters.  Since the alligator population in the wild isn’t very large in North Carolina, we went to a (sorta) local tourist attraction to see some in captivity.  Along the way though, we stopped by the beach since we were so close.

That’s Bald Head Island in the background.

Behind us was the Oak Island Lighthouse.

We stayed only a short while, because the swamp critters were waiting.

Yeah, I grew up around alligators, but for some reason I’m still fascinated by them.  Maybe it’s because they’ve outlasted dinosaurs, or most likely it’s because I live so far away from their natural habitat now that I just miss seeing them everywhere (including on the trails I rode.)  The place was a little tourist-y, but it was still pretty fun.

The park staff wouldn't get very close to them for some reason.  I think it was something about "liability", but I just think they were scared.  Pfffttttt.

We just sat there watching them for the most part (since they wouldn't let us in there to play), but we quickly found a few favorites.  This little fella just sat on his log all day thinking little gator thoughts.

Lunchbox even tried to steal one to bring back here to Charlotte because he missed them so much.

 Don't worry, he's a trained professional, folks. 

The critters really dug us too.

We had a good time after the race, and that was the plan all along.  If you look over there to the right, you’ll see that I don’t have a hotel sponsor.  I don’t see the point of driving down the night before a far away race, spending the night, getting up the next day to race, and driving home afterwards.  We left early the morning of the race, I spent six hours riding my bike, and then we spent the rest of the time having a mini vacation.

Bike riding is supposed to be fun, and making a weekend out of a race keeps it that way.

Tomorrow, the “race.”

Do You Feel Lucky?

Well, do ya, Eastwood?


Tomorrow is the big race, the Brunswick Brawl in case you haven't been paying attention. And because I'll win our bet, I'll be swimming in beer.

I'm ready, and I have an unfair advantage.

No, not my 17 tooth cog from Endless Bike Co. Well, I guess it's an advantage, because I'm fully capable of pushing such a hard gear for six hours. My advantage is experience, since I've done this a time or two. If you've been around here long enough though, you know I'm bound to make many mistakes, some of which could cost me any precious time I might gain while I'm “racing.” I'll more than likely do some dumb shit out there tomorrow, which means that my competition will benefit from it.


It keeps things interesting for sure.


Truth be told, I'm probably not ready to “race” for six hours. The season is pretty much over, which means I'm all about having fun now. Plus, there's this shoulder thingy I might have mentioned.


I'll be just fine. Just putting the finishing touches on everything.

Yep, a dab of ProLink will do nicely.

Tune in Monday for the aftermath. You know, tales from a giant shit storm.

Not Training

I don't do that shit. Instead, I just ride for fun. I know I can ride six hours this weekend, so there's no need to ride that long just for practice. Needing a bit of a break from beating myself up on the trail, I took a leisurely urban ride after work. We have many miles of greenways around here, so I took the liberty of exploring them.

The temps have cooled a little bit around here which means that more people are getting outside for exercise. I didn't see a whole lot of people on bikes, but there were plenty of runners. We didn't get in each others way at all. In fact, it was nice to be out and see everyone enjoying the outdoors.

I pushed hard up hills, but other than that I just spun along and enjoyed being on my bike. I only took two pictures, so here's the second one.

Exciting, I know.

When I got home it was time for the obligatory post-ride beer. I glanced at the TV for a bit until the commercials came on. I always turn away to keep those pesky corporations from trying to sell me shit, but one commercial caught my attention. It was the trailer for the new Jackass movie, Bad Grandpa.

I'm fan of the Jackass stuff, but I haven't been to a theater in years. I usually wait until stuff comes out on video before I watch it because I can't stand crowds or people talking during movies. I watched the trailer anyway, because some of that movie was filmed right here in Charlotte.

Yup.

Also, my friend and neighbor Vic The Chili Man had a spot in the film, and I was hoping some of his scene might make it to the trailer. Out of the ones I'd seen so far, that wasn't the case. This one however, was different. I spotted him, and luckily I was able to pause my DVR to get a snapshot.

If you look closely, you'll even see a B-43 sticker on his cart.

It's the old logo of course, since I haven't gotten with D-Wayne to make any stickers with the new logo.

That's kinda cool I guess. It was neat seeing my neighbor in it. I'm sure I'll make an exception to my “I don't go to the theater” policy to see that movie (just for The Chili Man of course.)

I found a trailer online, but it's not the one I saw on TV.





It looks like it will be pretty damn funny.

Where was I?  Finished I think.

Bye.

Racing For Pinks

I know it's National Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and yes, I do like boobies. But I don't plan to “race” to help fight breast cancer.

If you want to fight breast cancer, you can use this:

I'm talking about a different kind of pink though.


Like racing for pink slips.

With my “season” pretty much over for all intents and purposes, I'm gonna get out on the trail with a number plate strapped on my bike one more time. This Saturday is the Brunswick Brawl down near Wilmington, NC and I plan to be there. With options for a one, four, and six hour race, I'm all in for six. They even created a single speed class just to get us famous folks from Charlotte down there, and that's where the “Racing for Pinks” came from.


Eastwood is gonna attempt his very first six hour event. You wouldn't think he would be so confident, but since we're “racing” in the same class we decided that a wager was in order. If I win, I get his shiny (barely-used) Niner One9:

It's the green one back there. Behind mine where it will be all day Saturday.


Race day will be eight weeks after hurting my shoulder, so maybe he thinks that he can take advantage of my injury. Ha.


I'll say that again.


Ha.


Being a six hour rookie, I'll let him think he's “winning” before I destroy him with the massive 34x16 gearing I plan to run. I can power around the course all day long on a gear that big, and he'll be ready to quit after two laps. Maybe I should let him borrow a 25 so he can take it easy. Or maybe I've already sabotaged him in advance. I did help bring that bike to life, you know.

Either way, that bike is as good as mine.*


I have a few tricks up my sleeve.







*On second thought, we've decided to race for beer. If (I mean when) I win, he will have to take out a bank loan to be able to afford all the beer I'll drink.