I mentioned that the day before ORAMM Leyonce and I went out for a ride around the Kitsuma loop. I finally had a chance to try out the new Camelbak Charge 450.

An actual bike ride with a piece of equipment as opposed to just snapping photos of it in my bike room like I did awhile back? You must admit that's some pretty thorough journalism.

What's amazing is the pack never looked that big when I held it in front of me, and it sure didn't feel that big on my back, but in comparison to my relatively small ass the Charge 450 looks large'esque. Since the panel between the bladder and my back was sorta thin (with elevated ridges to keep it directly off my back)I filled it with ice and then topped it off with water to see if it would feel cool... not Fonzie cool, but more like Al Roker cool. It worked. I could feel the effects for the short 1.5 hour ride, and the water stayed cool for hours later on our trip to Subway and while I was in the hotel room packing drop bags. Very nice. I was able to fit my camera in one of the side pocket mustard holsters, and access to it was fair to midland. Had I a cool little pink camera like Peter it would have been a better fit. Mike Piazza did safely fit in the jewelry/iStuff pocket, and he stayed there for the entire ride.

All in all the pack was as comfortable as packs get, even with all my overprepared-for-a-mountain-ride stuff (minus cold weather clothing). I'd still rather wear nothing at all, but when the time comes to wear a pack this one will be replacing my venerable circa 2000 Blowfish. It is officially retired. The king is dead, long live the king.

One of the top secret things I did before ORAMM was mount up a Rotor 33 tooth ring that George from Bike29 was kind enough to force on me.

There's all kinds of science on the website that you can peruse later, but I can attest that there has to be something to it since I was able to push a 33X19 over 63 miles and 10,000 feet of climbing in my state of disrepair. Normally when I'm feeling "on it" I only push a 32X19 at ORAMM, and that's when I'm feeling "on it". Just less than a month ago I was walking up sections of Curtis Creek with my 32X19. The new not-so-round ring certainly adds something to my ability to keep turning the gear over when things get hard. Like I said, there's some science behind it... I don't entirely understand it, but I was impressed with all the graphs and science stuff. George can get some more Rotor Rings if you want to take advantage of this new technology (it's not warmed over Biopace), and he has operators standing by. Call now (unless you're reading this during non-Bike29 business hours) since he doesn't have it in his online store for your shopping inconvenience.

I got a new watch to compete with Peter's giant watch that talks to him.

It is an actual men's watch, fitted to the smallest notch, and since I won't be racing seriously anymore it is merely a fashion accessory that matches my rims, brakes, helmet, shoes, saddle, stem, and crabon frok. I look incredibly professional for a retired unprofessional cyclist.

Also in monumental news, I moved my Awesome Strap to a lower position recently.

Some folks believe that mounting your shit high up on the seatpost is not such a good idea, especially on a single speed. It kinda makes sense when you consider you rock your bike back and forth on climbs, and that means you're moving that weight through more space with every rock back and with the following and subsequent forth. I think I can notice the difference, but without cool Rotor-like bar graphs I can't claim to have scientific evidence, but if you think it does make a difference go ahead and try to mount your saddle bag down there (assuming you're one of the people still using lame ass saddle bags). After you get pissed at your inability to move your saddle bag to this extremely logical position buy yourself an Awesome Strap and throw that POS away (or if you live in Asheville, throw it in your compost bin).

BTW: If you want an Awesome Strap like the one you see above you are currently, as Aesop once said, "Shit out of luck." The new, even more awesome 2011 Awesome Straps are on the way, so be patient while you try to enjoy your less than awesome saddle bag.

I also got to use my new "Genital Non-Displaying Device" at ORAMM.

Local Charlottean Kellie Muddiman created this bad ass personalized "Genital Non-Displaying Device", or as she would probably prefer it to be called... "Changing Towel." It's got a buckle so it doesn't fall down while I'm naked underneath, and it's ultra-absorbent which came in handy since I was covered in three gallons of sweat when I was finished riding. It's also personalized so I won't mistake my friend's "Genital Non-Displaying Device" for my "Genital Non-Displaying Device" when I unload my car after a weekend trip. While you may not be self absorbed enough to buy a personalized changing towel for yourself they do make a great gift for loved ones or for that riding partner that shows you his junk after every ride. Kellie can be reached at KMUDDIMAN@EARTHLINK.NET if you wanna hook a naked, not so humble brother up, and she also makes ones that are more appropriate for lady folk who want to cover up the goods as well.

Boy, if you miss today the future won't make much sense.

Back in June Colt from Cycling Dirt did an interview with me while I was at the Trans Sylvania Epic. Something he asked me forced me to answer a question I've never bothered to answer for myself. It's had me thinking for months now. Paraphrasing, it went kinda like this:

Colt: If you could win one race before you die what would it be?

Dicky: Of course it would be the Single Speed World Championship.

~Then I bitch about people like Adam Craig, Carl Decker, Fuzzy, and Dejay.~

But then I say this:

Dicky: I've won everything I'd probably ever want to win....

I've been thinking a lot about that for some time now, and over the weekend while I was flailing away on the ORAMM course it came to me. If I've already won everything I'd probably ever want to win why would I try to win anything else?

Where is this going? Lately I've acknowledged the fact that I am tired. Working, "training", blogging, writing, family time, fun time, racing... I try to put a lot on my plate and the one thing that gives is sleep. How can I alleviate that problem? Sleep more and lose one of the other bad habits. It was an easy decision. Training has to go.

There's only one point to training; to do well at racing. If I have, in fact, won every race I ever felt like winning continuing to train seems like a stupid concept. Of all the races I've ever won (or done really well at), only two stand out in my mind as achievements. Winning at ORAMM and the 24 Hour Solo Single Speed Championships were the two biggest moments out of everything I've done in the last seven years. I'm talking about my first ORAMM victory in 2004 since it was my first single speed endurance race ever, not the other victories since I actually went in thinking winning thoughts. Both victories pushed me to a new edge and both were quite unexpected and somewhat life changing.

Winning at that first ORAMM made me realize I might be able to try my hand at La Ruta. I'd never heard of anybody doing something like that on a single speed, and thus Bad Idea Racing was born as I wrote my first ever race report and started chasing down stage races like a not so attractive college male would chase down less than sober girls at 2:00am (nothing I would know about for sure). It was the beginning of an era for me, but then winning the 24 hour thing kinda pushed this blogging business to new levels starting even another era'esque period for me. Pivotal moments for sure.

It's not like I've been very absorbed with winning this year. Winning never really seemed like my style anyways. If you look at the photographic evidence from the past decade you'll see that I've never felt at home on a podium, and I don't think that will ever change. For me the feeling of standing on a podium is sooooo small compared to the feelings I had out on the course earning the privilege to stand 2.5 feet taller than my peers.

I do feel like a spoiled asshole rich kid when it comes to the wealth of fitness I accidentally have right now. My job has the fortunate side effect of keeping me in the kind of shape that will allow me to continue attending races and having fun, and that's what I intend to do from here on until some big life event occurs that I can't predict. No more skipping out on the pre-race festivities to get a good night's sleep, no more drop bags full of nutritional shit I don't really wanna ingest, no more worrying about who else is registered, no more morning rides before work all over Charlotte aimlessly chasing fitness, no more extra laps I don't really wanna do on the local loops, no more shaving my head down before hot races, no more worrying about my weight, no more of the things that kill the fun of doing what I love.

I'd go on and on about this topic, but I think you get the point. I'm still going to attend cycling events with start and finish lines, but speed will not be of the essence in between those two locations. I'm already daydreaming about the pizza at the 75 mile mark at Shenandoah in September, not to mention the pre-race beer the night before I've been ducking out on for the past two years. More fun rides with more slower friends since fitness won't be the focus of my rides April through September. What I am proposing is a return to the fucking salad days.

There is another change on the horizon. It's only in the works, so you'll know more as I know more and then we'll both know more because the more you know...

Looking for that image I found a website for breast augmentation. I love the internet even more now that I know there are boobs on it. Mmmmm.. the more I know.

So last you knew I just popped up onto the Blue Ridge Parkway and filled up my bottles at the third aid station. with fellow single speeder Kelly Klett leaving me to make his way on his own.

This was not my normal ORAMM experience. Normally I climb up Curtis Creek Road looking for carrots ahead of me to swallow whole. If I see that they are standing up too much I assume they are single speeders, so I charge ahead, close the gap, slow down when I get close, make my breathing as normal as possible, ride behind or next to them, and then after they realize I'm there I go all 2009 Contador on them.



Then when I get over the top of the Parkway I hang it all out on the following gravel descent to make sure they never see me again. None of this happened Sunday as planned.

On the descent I took it pretty easy. No two wheel drift in the corners, no reckless abandon, and no looking over my shoulder. When I got to the bottom I sat up and took it easy on the flat section, and when I started climbing back up to the Parkway I looked for someone to keep me company. I could see Charlotte local Eric Hagerty coming from behind, so I held up and waited for him. We chatted for awhile, caught another rider, I continued talking, looked around, and Eric was gone off the back. Making the most of the situation I talked to this guy instead all the way up to aid station four.

I had shared with my new friend that I was going to eat the shit outta something at the aid station. I was hoping for pizza or wedding cake, but I had no such luck. I pulled over and searched the tent, but the closest thing to pizza was Doritos (they're both triangle shaped). I grabbed a Coke and stood next to the Doritos for awhile. I watched as Eric Hagerty came and went, as well as Harvey Minton, fellow single speeder Mike Tiano, and a few others went by. Whatever. I wasn't leaving my Coke unfinished, and I had yet to sample the cookies, so there was no chasing to be done... not yet.

Once I downed my Coke and expressed my love for the volunteers I hit the 1.1 mile climb up the Parkway. I passed Harvey and Mike pretty quickly, and hit the hike-a-bike to Heartbreak with a bit of enthusiasm. It's hard to not be excited about one of the best descents in all of Pisgah. I bombed it for all I was worth, popped out at the bottom, and rode on past aid station five since I never had a chance to drink anything in my bottles since aid station four.

On the climb up Mill Creek Road I caught sight of Kelly Klett again. I was noticing him noticing me, and he musta thought I had an agenda as he visibly jumped into action. I was having none of this, but at least it was fun to see him jump every time there was a line of sight between the two of us in a switchback corner or over a long straight away.

Once I got to the bottom of Kitsuma it was hard to not be slightly crushed emotionally. It was around the 5hr 50min mark, my finishing time from two years ago. I knew Will Black had already won, and I still had close to ten miles to go with a lot of pushing up Kitsuma's menacingly hot switchbacks. Some very nice people in the parking lot gave me some cold water and then told me that there were three single speeders all just about three minutes ahead. "That's nice" I thought to myself thanking them for the water and pointless information.

Up Kitsuma, down Kitsuma, and an effortless ride back into town. Not the usual panic spin back to the finish while looking over my shoulder the whole way that I'm used to from the past few years. I crossed the finish line in 6:43:37, fifty two minutes slower than my fastest time in 2008 (5:51:05), no where near my 5:40 fantasy football league dreams.

What else is worth mentioning? Will Black won the SS class and beat my course record with an awesome 5:44:19 (very fast considering the high 90°heat). He also outclassed me in the Best Overall Performance of a Single Speed in a Supporting Role with a 7th place overall (I was 9th in 2007). Also kudos to second place SS finisher Robert Jameson for finishing in 6:16:17 on a rigid bike with V-BRAKES!! Echhh. I should also mention third place rider Greg Leister (who kept me company on the push up to Star Gap) did a great job since he only wanted to better his 8 hour time, and he did so by finishing in 6:20:46.

The only goal I managed to accomplish was beating Harvey Minton, thus allowing me to cross him off my list. That, and by unsuccessfully defending my ORAMM title, I can now walk away from ORAMM happy and defeated.

Congrats to Eric Hagerty and Kelly Klett for rounding out the all NC podium. Also big ups to the 275 people (out of 400) that beat the heat, the lightning storms, the injuries, the hardships... whatever to finish this ultra hard edition of ORAMM.

There is some fallout from the race that is yet to be discussed. I'll get to that tomorrow.

This race report may drag out over a few days and related posts may drag out even longer. I know you're thinking "We're used to it", but I assure you this may end up being the most irresponsibly procrastinated post ever. The results may even be up before I get to the end of the story, and I've already facebooked all my facefriends the short spoiler version (see what you're missing if you're not my facefriend).

I went into the race doing almost everything possible to achieve my goals (finish in 5:40, honorably defend the title, and beat Harvey Minton so I can cross him off my list). Leyonce and I rented a room at the Super 8 to avoid the standard 4:30AM wake up call that I've become so familiar with in my last five ORAMM's. The day before we went out and rode the Kitsuma loop, and I've never had a chance to stretch out my legs the day before ORAMM. It was awesome.

I packed all my bottles and shit into the drop bags trying to figure out which bottles I could leave behind since I wasn't going to wait until 8:00PM when the bags would make it back to the finish line.

Each bag had a piece of yellow POLICE CAUTION tape on it so I could pick it out quickly in the pile of hundreds of drop bags at each stop. This is serious business.

I trimmed my number plate down to reduce wind resistance on all the open road sections and the painful coasting trip back to Old Fort, NC.

I also requested my lucky number... awesome.

I even made sure we had a hotel with a Superstart Breakfast, because who wouldn't want a Superstart to their Superday?

It was anything but Super, but it was simple sugars that were partially thawed and all you can drink coffee.

So anyways, aside from doing two stage races in the last two months and trying to recover in between by doing as little as possible I was doing everything right.

Sunday morning I took my spot at the front of the group. The start usually rolls out of town pretty fast, and I try to stay in the top fifty or so until we get to the climb up the old, degraded paved climb up Old 70. Then I turn on the gas and try to establish a better position before we hit the singletrack. This time around I managed to stay pretty close to the front, at one point being at the very front with King of Pisgah, Wes Dickson for some chatter. Fun had, I dropped back into the top thirty or so riders and hammered my way up the climb.

Once we got to the million switchbacks up the backside of Kitsuma I was happy with where I was. I lost sight of Will Black, but the next three single speeders were all in sight. I crested the top, descended like I had just rode it yesterday, and since I knew all the lines I made short work of it.

Out on the paved road that leads to the bottom of Star Gap I caught two single speeders in a train, passed them, realized I shoulda joined their train, held up, sat in, passed the other single speeder, and got to the bottom of the even more switchbackier than Kitsuma, Star Gap. The three other single speeders got by me at the bottom as I kept my pace reasonable in the heat. I was soaked through and through ever since the climb up Old 70 at 8:15AM, and I figured the heat would play a major role in the outcome of the race. No sense in blowing up yet, and I know the nine mile climb up Curtis Creek Rd has always been place to make my move.

Up Star Gap and down to the grassy road of death I spent some time with Carey Lowery. She was riding waaaaayyy off the front of the women's field, and she made for pleasant company constantly reminding me that we're shooting for sub six hours. Once we got to the climb up the grassy road of death I would gun it on the slight rises, pass a few riders, recover, and repeat. Things were going pretty well at that point, and I thought I might be able to do what I set out to do from the start.

Then it happened.

I hit a steeper section with a bit of enthusiasm, and then I popped. There was just nothing there. Popped? That's probably not the right word. Champagne bottles "pop", and then there's happiness and glasses and hugs as champagne flows all around. I did not "pop."

There's a certain kinda firework that every man wants to see at a Fourth of July celebration. There's no bright colored palm tree explosions, no squiggly little whiny bits squirting in all directions, and no funny shapes (if you think circles are funny). No, the best ones just go up, there's a flash of white light, and then you feel and hear the loud boom that is an awesome display of the difference between the speed of light and sound. Any man will tell you that's the only fireworks they should ever use for the whole show, but I guess they have to think of the women and children and babies with sensitive ears.

So anyways, I attacked the steep pitch and I would imagine the ride behind me saw a brilliant light, then he woulda heard a loud boom, and then all that would be left in front of him was a smokey contrail to the point where he last saw me. It happened just like that.

I guess that's how it feels when your body says "No, we're not quite up to this." If I couldn't gas it like that on a steep pitch on the grassy road of death I'd never have my kick on Curtis Creek that I have come to count on. With two of the three single speeders I had hoped to beat just ahead of me, I dropped back and was passed pretty quickly by the third. Meh.

I rolled into the second aid station looking to reload with the bottles from my drop bag. The volunteers looked for my bag, I looked for my bag... nobody could find my bag. I told them it should be obvious, what with the yellow POLICE CAUTION tape on it, but nobody was finding nothing. In an amount of time that would have allowed me to fill the bottles I had on me, poured them out, filled them again, poured them out, and filled them once more we found my bag with the tape tucked up underneath it. Success. I strayed off my nutrition plan, grabbed a couple banana chunks, and rolled on to Curtis Creek Road.

On the way up I looked for riders to talk to. Neal Boyd, race promoter from Charlotte, Kelly Klett, a single speed racer who really wants to beat me, Carey Lowery (again taunting me with the six hour thing), the local Specialized rep... I had a lot of pleasant conversations. I rode past some riders who were enjoying the cold spring on the side of the road, and I realized what difference could it possible make now if I stopped to partake. I halted my forward motion twenty feet past the spring, laid down my bike, and filled my bottle with cold spring water.

While I was riding up the road with Kelly I saw race promoter Todd Branham coming down the road in his truck. I think I've seen Todd here every year as he's on his way back after checking in with the aid stations on the Blue Ridge Parkway. He gave me a serious "WTF are you doing back here?" look, said something of the sort, and I just shrugged my shoulders as he drove by.

I rode with Kelly up to the third aid station, and he left me there while I suffered a similar scenario to what happened at the last aid station. Not that I cared at this point. My "race" was over hours ago. This time I filled my bottles after we looked for awhile, and the volunteer found my bag about three seconds before I finished filling my second bottle.

That's about the 35 miles mark, and a good place to stop for now. I have to go to work... yes, I slept in this morning, and it was awesome.

ORAMM is coming. Like death or taxes, it can not be avoided at any cost. I'm shooting for a time lower than 5:45 and hoping for 5:40. I'm placing bets that Will Black will come in @ 5:10-5:15. Maybe a giant crevasse will open up in the earth's crust swallowing Will whole, but I doubt it. Kinda sad if he does win since...

Thanks to Dixie the premature kitten for allowing me to take her picture. She's a 3oz bottle feeder The Pie has been taking care of lately. I would have preferred a non-blind kitten that could actually run so I could recreate the original image a little better, but she had to do.

Speaking of animals...

Are you an Ashevillian and find yourself needing a small dog?

Zip is a 9 month old Chihuahua /Jack Russell mix looking for a home. She was bred to leap over buildings and save children from burning buildings. She is also very good at math and is well versed in Aesop's Fables*. Contact me at teamdicky at hotmail dot com and I can send you more info.

So, oh yeah... ORAMM. I feel like I killed the topic with this post a week ago. I'm doing my own thing, doing some new things, and doing the right thing. I will fight the (Will) power.





What time is it Will?

Time for all fucking hell to break loose.

* I'm just guessing she could do all these things as she looks like she could.

ORAMM is now less than three wake ups away. Am I concerned? Not so much. I've made all the right moves.

Last Saturday I bought my favorite snack, a 3lb 8.5oz bag of penaut M&M's. Last night I finished it off.

38 servings at 220 calories per. 8,360 calories at a rate of @ 1,670 calories a day. That should top off the glycogen stores for the weekend, and I also got in 152 grams of protein to boot. I was very careful to not wash them down with my favorite post peanut M&M gorging session beverage, Sierra Nevada. Too much of a good thing and all.

Will Black is posting photos from the Blue Ridge Parkway on his facebook page in an attempt to intimidate me... as if he's really up there training on his bike. I have it on good information that he was up there for leaf season. Either he has a very rare calender reading disorder or he's been using that same stupid Aztec calender I was using a few weeks ago. I think he doomed his shot at my title earlier this year when he was hanging out at the start line with Wiensy, Fawley, and Lance himself.

If you see Will please let him know Lance isn't doing so well. He doesn't know how the Tour is going since the hippy liberals in Asheville have made cable television illegal.

My timing on yesterday's mention of the Breck Epic was kismet on the highest level. When I got to work I saw 1,200 mentions on facebook regarding Lynda Wallenfels' latest "Coaches Column" on MTBRaceNews.com. This particular post was an answer to the following question:

Question: I live at a low altitude but I am racing the 6-day Breck Epic this season. How can I best prepare to race in the thin air of Breckenridge?

Just as before, Lynda's column comes at the right time in my life. Last time she wrote about the importance of recovery and had this little bit about stage racing that I am currently ignoring:

"Generally, 7 day stage races fall in the 3 week recovery time frame."

Now let's see what she has to say this time....

"endurance performance bottoms out within the first few hours of arrival at altitude"

Lucky for me I'll be in Breckenridge for at least 24 hours before the racing starts.

"Arriving 4 days before the race is good. Arriving 4 weeks before the race is better!"

Doh.

"A month out have your iron levels checked and follow a physician’s advice on iron supplementation if necessary."

Anybody who's been following along at home knows I had issues with anemia last year before I went to Breck. My bloodwork from this past February was deemed "OK", but I'm not taking any chances. Daily iron supplements? Check.

"Take 80-120 mg of Ginkgo Biloba twice per day in the 5 days leading up to arrival at altitude."

Ginkgo Bi what what? Well if Lynda says "Jump!" I say "How many milligrams?" while I'm in the air.

I ran out and picked up iron supplements and ginkgo biloba ASAP. Since I was at the CVS that sits under the Five Guys Burgers and Fries I ran upstairs after purchasing my pills and bought a bag of fries. They do absolutely nothing in terms of helping with altitude, but they do taste good and have excellent vinegar absorption properties.

She closed with this:

After arrival at altitude:

"Avoid any medications that will depress breathing rate. This includes alcohol..."

I have to admit that's where she lost me. I want to be as ignorant as possible when it comes to how alcohol affects performance. She doesn't even go on to say that perhaps skipping higher alcohol beers like Old Chub Scotch Ale (8% alcohol) and substituting it with Coor's Lite (.00001% alcohol) would be a great idea. This seems like shoddy journalism to me.

I think this is all part of Lynda's bigger plan. She wants to subconsciously affect the decisions I make from now till next February and so we can crush all comers at The Most Horrible Thing Ever... I mean the new but not improved and only renamed Pisgah 36. Women always have a darker reason behind their actions. Don't trust them and whatever you do don't look them in the eye... that's what breasts are for.

Did you come here to read my mind just three days out from the most important event on the international cycling calender? Sorry, maybe tomorrow I'll get my focus reigned in on ORAMM.

Maybe you came for more hydration pack controversy? None today good sir (or mam). Move along.

I wanna go ahead and mention the final two stage races I'm doing this year in my "Season of a Thousand Stage Races" (give or take 996). Next up for me is the Breck Epic. Like most races I've ever done I finished the 2009 Breck Epic with a feeling of been there, done that, never going back. Last year I was hurting pretty bad at altitude, and being slightly better off than clinically anemic it was a bit of a daily struggle for me. I was glad I finished, but it was painfully obvious that in order to do well at altitude one needs to acclimate, buy a hypobaric sleeping chamber, or just straight up dope... not that anyone there doped, but last night I was wondering if I could get a blood centrifuge on eBay (fuck me, you can).

Over the long winter BE promoter Mike McCormack asked me if I would consider coming back. Obviously I had forgotten all the pain and suffering of pushing up over Wheeler Pass, Georgia Pass, and all those other God awful passes that crushed me into a fine powder of wasted human. I said yes. I'm in much better health this year, the descents were just awesome enough to make up for all the excruciating breathless effort it took to get to them, and the views were out of this world. Seriously, the most beautiful thing I've ever seen (next to The Pie... who happens to be a nurse and capable of running a centrifuge).

photo cred: this guy

So I'm going back, and if you want to join me you'd better hurry. There are less than twenty spots left, and classy pro racers Like Ross Schnell are buying them up like cheap centrifuges on eBay*.

The last stage race I'll be doing this year is Crank the Shield. The best thing about this race is that the promoter doesn't bother using the cliche terms "epic" or "trans" as a marketing tool in the title (reminder to self: promote a race called the Trans Epic Epic). Maybe that's not the best thing about the race. Maybe it's this:

After a summer of record temps and racing and working in sweltering heat and code red days I welcome any race where people don arm and leg warmers and stomp through soft, cold mud.

I've never been to Eastern Canada before. I have done two Trans Rockies and one BC Bike Race (an "epic" journey from Vancouver to Whistler ... they had to get the word "epic" in there somehow), but I have never cranked anything on the eastern side of America's hat. It's also comforting to know that this event is put on by Chico Racing. They happen to be one of the largest and bestest bike promoters in North America, or so the internet tells me.

Crank the Shield is only three days long, so if you're looking to get your feet wet in stage racing this is a good one for you. There are less than 60 spots left, so if you're even thinking about it you might wanna click on over, do a little homework, work on your Canadian accent, watch the video, and then sign up. Not only will I be there to keep you company and hold your hand if you're scared Peter will be there as well to take a photo of you at your worst moment to exploit on his blog.

ORAMM tomorrow... I promise.

* Rad Ross Schnell only uses his centrifuge to dry his micro swim trunks.

I know the proverbial "they" say there is no sense (know cents for Thad) beating a dead horse. On the contrary, beating a dead horse makes all the sense in the world in comparison to beating a live horse. You get all the pleasure of taking your anger out on a large deceased equine without the risk of getting a retaliatory kick or having to deal with the guilt of being an animal abuser.

This is my blog, and if I wanna beat a dead horse I will do it. Not only will I beat a dead horse I will give it the full Shawshank treatment... the full Shawshank treatment. That horse won't be walking normal for a week, assuming it could walk, but it can't because it's dead.

The cycling specific hydration pack was invented by Camelbak. There's no arguing about that. Here I am wearing either a first or second generation Camelbak sometime back in the waaaay early 90's.

The bladder just went into a giant Koozie sleeve and was slung on your back with two tiny little straps that dug into your shoulders while a 70oz liquid Tootsie Roll bounced around between your shoulder blades. I think it's fair enough to say that all hydration packs are just a rip off of the original Camelbak. That is, of course, we don't want to give credit to the first guy who cut the bladder out of a goat, filled it with water, and slung it over his shoulder using a braided cord made out of wallaby hair. I guess maybe it's not the same thing unless the originator managed to fashion a hose outta the goat's upper intestine and maybe used the wallaby sphincter as a bite valve.... he probably didn't take it that far.

Jimmy the Gimp was the first person I knew that had a Camelbak. Jimmy always had the coolest stuff first. His Haro had the first Manitou on it, he ran Grafton brakes, and he had a full suspension bike years before the rest of us (a Doug Bradbury/Answer made frame with two fork legs for seat stays). That Camelbak was the coolest upgrade I could afford to keep up with the Gimps, so I got one too.

The first Camelbak had NO STORAGE whatsoever. You could jam shit down into the tubular Koozie, but it meant leaving out a little bit of water and it made for difficult access to your tools when you needed them. Eventually they came out with the Humpty Bak, which was just a tiny pouch held in by the velcro at the top of the Koozie (I've got one in the above photo). I could only fit a tube, a CO2 inflator, a multi-tool, and half a car key inside of it. Eventually companies other than Camlebak, like Two Fish, made sleeves for the Koozie with pockets for your tools and shit, and then the whole concept of packs with pockets took off and other companies jumped into the fray, and then here we are today arguing about who makes the best pack and who ripped off who's ideas (or is it "whom's ideas"?).

The Bell helmet I'm wearing in the photo was one of the first helmets with a retention device on the rear, the Reebok Pump. It worked well enough, and the idea of a helmet grabbing the back of your skull caught on to the point that you can't buy a decent helmet without a Roc Loc, GPS Fit System, Spiderlock Elite retention system, or whatever those copycats want to call their products. Don't we all benefit from the advancement of helmet technology brought about by the competition between helmet manufacturers? Sure we do, and we should be grateful or else we'd all have headaches from over pumping our Reebok Pumps.

So Camelbak, Hydrapak, Wing Nut, Osprey... you name it, they all have to give credit to one another for pushing their respective companies to make a better product. I've had a shit ton of hydration packs, and I've hated to majority of them, and even the ones I liked still had room for improvement. I hate wearing packs in general, but sometimes the ride necessitates it, so I gotta go with the lesser of all the evils.

I've had seven Camelbaks, one Wingnut, one Bell, one Ergon, one Hydrapak, and one huge pack made by some company I can't remember. I had a nit to pick with every one of them, but I still own four of them, although I hold onto two of them since my late father bought them for me to help with my 24 hour racing aspirations back in the day. Two of them are my current go-to packs, the 2006 Wingnut Assault and the 2000 Camelbak Blowfish. When I have to wear a pack I use either one of them pretty equally. What don't I like about either one of them?

The Camelbak Blowfish had to be vastly improved (by me) for me to continue using it. I added a two inch waist strap, a compression cord for extra clothing, and I rerouted the hose under the shoulder. I never modified the Wingnut, but it had/has its issues. I blew out a zipper after a few months use (a common issue on WN gear from what some of my friends have experienced), though the folks at Wingnut fixed it without a blink. The original bite valve was shitcanned and replaced with a Camelbak valve (I guess that is a modification, but whatever). The bladder lid was untethered, and would inevitably fall interior side down in the dirt when I tried to fill it in a hurry, like when I was racing, which is what I bought the Assault for to begin with. I like that you can fill the bladder without removal, but any pack that puts the bladder in the main compartment so that when you overfill the bladder (because you're in a hurry) you end up soaking your gear? Not so much. I also ended up mending the mesh straps quite a few times. A word to pack manufacturers: if you're going to use mesh on the outside of your water sacks test it thoroughly before you commit to a design. It was a weak point on more of the packs I owned than I can remember.

I haven't even ridden with my new Camelbak, but I already wish it had a two inch waist strap. Nobody does that, so I guess if I want it I'll have to make it happen. The other nit I have to pick is that it does not allow for under the shoulder routing of the hose without some modification. That's one of my favorite things about my Wingnut and my modified Blowfish. Under the shoulder routing allows the tube to come right up to a hands free drinking position with no leaks. It should be an option on all packs IMHO.

So argue all you want about who ripped off who's idea in my comments. As long as the breed improves in the name of competition I'm all for it, otherwise we'd all be wearing the 70oz liquid Tootsie Roll, driving Ford Model T's, and drinking the same kind of beer. Blatant copies without improving the breed? See the American light beer industry for an example of where that will get you. Look closely at the images of the Octane LR and the Wingnut Hyper 2.5, the Enduro, or even the Hyper 3.0. The only real similarity I see is that they all carry the weight lower than with a regular pack. Easy access pockets on the sides? Who isn't doing that nowadays? Hell, I did it back in 2006. As my friend Stabby once said "All movies are based on Beowulf. It's a fact."

Still not happy? Let's grab our fire tipped pitchforks and assemble in mass to storm the factories of the interlopers.

All comments are welcome...

I wished I woulda said something more about Julian Dean's tangle with the Tour de France safari sensation Mark Rhinoshaw...

but it's too late now. Heaven help us if Evan "Outta my fucking way" Plews grows horns before he toes the line in the single speed class at the Breck Epic.

How about what I managed to get into over the weekend?

Mike Piazza read Fixie Dave's comment regarding whether or not he would fit in the new Camelbak. He found a picture on the internet of Pue Sawicki with her chihuahua going for a ride in her hydration pack, and he figured it would be easier to coach me if he could actually do a ride along and see for himself what I'm doing out in the woods. He thought the small soft lined pouch at the top of the pack (where I was planning on keeping my expensive broaches and lockets) would suit him best, so we tried it out for size Saturday evening.

Best laid plans and all...

On Saturday my window for riding was full of life's little things, so I was hoping to get Mike Piazza out for his dirt experience on Sunday. The winds of change blew in and brought rain with them forcing me to make the unfortunate call to cancel the mountain bike ride. Road riding it had to be, and Mike Piazza shed a tear that was 1/24 to scale of a normal human sized tear when I told him there was no way in Hell I was wearing a pack on a road ride for fear that the other roadies would laugh at me.

I opted to go for the Bicycle Sport Sunday morning road ride... yes, a road ride. I now have over 250 miles on my road bike for July which is an all-time (at least over the last 15 years) high for me. Of course I'm not counting fixed gear work related miles.... well, because I just don't count them.

One of the most interesting things about the ride was that both the shop owner (Ilan) and his faithful employee (Andreas Raab) both tactfully and most respectfully pointed out that my seat was too low, way too low, painfully and obviously too low.

"Hey Dicky, ummmm... how tall are you? I've analyzed the video I took of you riding on my Blackberry, and your pedal stroke seems quite inefficient. First off, you should not be riding on my Blackberry. Secondly, your saddle on your Fuji... I mean Kestrel, is obviously too low when your knees are hitting your chin at the twelve o'clock position."
This was a combination of a few things.

I set the seat height based on my MTB not thinking about the shorter crank length.

I put a new seat on before Tour de Burg without checking the height.

The original seat post clamp that came with my bike was bottomed out and allowing the seatpost to slip. I replaced the clamp with a Salsa and maybe I kinda guessed at the correct height and never checked it.

I moved it up 15mm and realized I would have had the overall Tour de Burg win had I spent more time with Ilan and Andreas before I left.

The road ride went about 20 miles past my happy 50 miles road bike distance (the point where I get hungry and wished I was at home already), but it was a pleasant affair as always making me wish I had more time to get out on road bike rides with friends.

Although I'm hoping to get out this week on my mountain bike before ORAMM while wearing my new Camelbak I thought I would share some information that Seth from Camelbak forwarded to me after he read my post, did a little facepalm action, and emailed me later.

The Charge 450 is so named not because it was "ninety better than they originally thought it would be during the graphic design phase". The pack itself weighs 450 grams without a reservoir. I guess this is the hydration pack industry's equivalent to weighing bikes without pedals knowing full well they are useless without them.

The yellow string that holds up the bladder will not be on the production models since the handle drop slot holds the reservoir on its own.

Seth also promised to get the new Camelbak Octane LR to me for "review" (which means I'm gonna try to keep it) when he has one he can spare.

photo cred: singletrackworld.com

I only mention that to put him on the spot if he fails to follow through on his promise.

Warning: Long post ahead, but still autoplay Don Henley free.

The best thing about Will Black signing up for ORAMM is that I feel as if the pressure is off me to win. I would be speaking of the pressure I put on myself to win the single speed class, not some external force or presence of massive amounts of tifosi lining the trails on race day. Will's pretty freaking honch, but even with riders like Dave Hall, Eric Hagerty, and Geoffrey Bergmark in the SS class I woulda had some work to do in order to win.

Wait...

Stop the blogpress.

I just checked the registered riders list and Geoffrey Bergmark has moved into the Vet Men (30-40) class since the last time I looked. Hmmmmm... he had told me he was in the SS class as long as I was going to race. Something about if I wasn't there and he won it would be like Lance's first Tour win in 1999 when Pantani and Ullrich couldn't make it. The critics would always say "Sure Geoffrey won, but there really wasn't any competition. Dicky was too busy doing coke and wrecking his sportscar driving home from the club." So I sign up to make Geoffrey's win legit and he skips out on me. Shame shame Geoffrey. Don't forget....

Hmmm... looking at the prize money there might be a financial reason for Geoffrey's flip flopping. First place single speed only pays $120 this year (it was $200 in 2009), but you can earn that ($120) with a 3rd place in the vet men category. With folks like Sam Koerber signed up in the Vet class that's gonna be a tall order as well. Scratching my head I looked to see if I should seek greener pastures, but the Masters Men (40-50) only get schwag. I've got schwag coming outta my ears, so I'm gonna stick it out, take my loss, and wrote it off on my taxes (a benefit to being a 1099 unprofessional cyclist). Not to mention Andy Applegate is signed up for the Masters Men class... who the hell is racing in the Open Men's class if people like Andy and Sam are riding in with the age groupers? I don't see Adam Craig on the list, so why is everybody hiding out in the age groupers??

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that there are also a bunch of people signed up in the SS class, and I have no clue who they are. In the past I mighta googled them, but with Will Black in the mix why bother. If I failed to mention your name on my list of potential favorites and you end up beating me, my apologies. I'll know who you are then.

If and when Will Black beats me I will breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe next year in June I won't have this overwhelming urge to "defend my title". Another great benefit about Will Black signing up is that normally I can't think about anything but ORAMM once July rolls around. Knowing that I am now a 10:1 underdog I can now just go out and do what I do... have fun and try to ride fast. No need to obsess endlessly and race like a coke fiend looking over my shoulder every three seconds. The race will definitely be in front of me, so I'll be scanning the side of the trail every so often to see if maybe Will is standing in the weeds changing a flat.

Speaking of fast, I looked at the results from the last three years. Here are my finishing times:

2009 ~ 5:56:06
2008 ~ 5:51:05
2007 ~ 5:40:30

The records do not go back any further so I can not see my times from my second place finish in 2005 or my first win in 2004. Those records were kept on stone tablets and Todd Branham (ORAMM Promoter) didn't wanna break his scanner trying to email the results to me. It doesn't matter since I'm pretty sure we ran different courses back in the old days.

I have a bad memory. Looking at that 2007 time I can't remember if we did the standard course or not. If we did I ran my fastest time on my small Zion when I was 38 years old. If we didn't do the standard course (that would make more sense) I feel slightly better. I am getting slower as evidenced by the last two years, and I'm wondering if that's just a part of getting older or the decline in interest regarding "training" for races.

So I have goals. I want to lay down my fastest time ever since I don't know if I'll be back again in 2011. That will be a tall order. I also want to beat Geoffrey Bergmark out of spite, and I also also want to use this opportunity to crush Harvey Minton so I can check him off my list. My list? I have a list, just like Stuntman Mike but slightly different, of people I'd like to kick when they are down. Many endurance luminaries are on that list, and many of them have been crossed off. Weaknesses, bad days, mechanicals, dehydration, injury... I will take advantage of any unfortunate situation with absolutely no remorse to defeat you if you are on my list. Harvey says he hasn't been training much... excellent. He was eighth overall in 2007 when I was ninth... so close, but this year Harvey your ass is grass and I'm the vaporizer.

My "training" has been haphazard at best. Overload my body at a stage race, try to recover, do another stage race, try to recover, and then hit ORAMM. I have no idea what I should be doing right now, but I'm riding as little as possible during the week and I might have overdone it last weekend.

I went on a mountain ride with old friends. I wanted to go on the ride even though my legs felt like shit. I wanted to have fun (that's all us girls just wanna do), and I was testing some secret equipment (as Big Worm alluded to on Monday).

A mountain ride with two bottles... Victory!!!

Yes, I'm pulling out all the stops. I'm doing a bunch of shit this year that I've never done before, and I'm even digging up some old skool stuff from days gone by.



I went ahead and wrote the next part providing full disclosure of my sinsiter plan, but Mike Piazza was watching over my shoulder and he said we were laying down our hand a little early. As Press Relations Director and Minister of Misinformation here at Bad Idea Racing he took it upon himself to edit the following in order to keep our advantage until after ORAMM is over.

This year I will be:

_________ only _________ _________ between _________.

trying out a new _________ that only elite _________ _________ have been using.

putting my _________ in my _________ along with my _________.

refraining from _________ my_________ as I usually do before a race.

_________ closer to the _________ the _________ before the race.

_________ beavers and goats until the _________ hours of the _________.

He added the part about the beavers and goats. He said it's all part of his job as Minister of Misinformation. He said "Next year just watch all the wannabes start _________ beavers and goats. They'll do it if they think you did. Lemmings."

Next week more ORAMM shit, a Camelbak review with 50% more CORRECT information provided to me by Seth of Camelbak, even more ORAMM shit... and perhaps a look forward to the Breck Epic and Crank the Shilled, I mean Crank the Shield.

Viva Mark Renshaw!!! Beware Will Black. There will be no cameras in the woods next weekend. The ORAMM head butt revolution will not be televised.


VeloCenter: TdF Stage 11 Extra

Now with less autoplay Don Henley (sorry about that)

The Pie has been outta town for the last coupla days leaving me unattended. The good news is that last night I was able to start messing with my new Camelbak. I wanted to elaborate on yesterday's post since it was quite lacking and a bit scatter brained without much imagery (aside from the product shot I got in an email). The bad news was that she took the good camera with her leaving me with the POS old one. My documentation of last night's playtime suffered slightly.

An you may ask yourself "How did I end up with a new Camelbak? What have I done to deserve this?"

This is a photo from Dirt Rag's website taken at the Downieville Classic.

On the right is Maurice, my virtual boss at Dirt Rag. On the left is Seth from Camelbak helping Maurice enjoy margaritas out of his 400 oz Margaritabak.

Maurice gets to go to Downieville and drink Margaritas served by industry folk like Seth, and I get to stay home and play with the Camelbak Seth sent me as an obvious consolation prize. Consolation Victory!!

I let Seth know before he sent me anything that I am very fickle, especially when it comes to hydration packs, and not to expect me to like it. The pack I've been wanting for quite some time (say since around 2004) would be more or less like an adventure pack... made with lightweight cloth having a big cargo area, a 100 oz bladder, and some minor compartmentalization. Simple and lightweight, just like me.

This photo was taken with just water in the bladder, nothing in the pack, and everything cinched down tight... very low profile.

Sorry about the poor quality image. It was taken by the same guy who shot this photo:

I sent him home and took the rest of the photos myself.

One of my biggest complaints about my old Blowfish was that if it was loaded with gear it was damn near impossible to put the full bladder in the pack without removing all my shit. That is no longer an issue.

A big zipper accessed compartment and two rentention'esque devices to keep the bladder from sinking down to the bottom of the pack. Take that gravity!

There is a soft pocket at the top where I guess iPeople would put their iThings to keep them iSafe. My little pink Shuffle needs no such fancy compartment, so I'm gonna keep my expensive broaches and lockets in there instead.

The pack obscures my jersey pockets, but luckily it has two built in mustard holsters on each side of the waist belt.

I wanted a big, vacuous compartment. Most of the times that I wear a pack it's cold outside so I end up wearing lotsa extra clothes at the start of the ride that I don't really need, take them off five minutes into the ride, and then need a big, vacuous compartment to stuff them in.

Score.

I do like a little compartmentalization for the little things... Mountain Pipe, CO2's, tube, lube, tools, toilet paper (for use where there is no toilet so it's more like untoilet paper), patch kit with pads, chainring bolts, zip ties, and various whatnot.

There's also a huge compartment on the outside of the bag for big things... like a helmet.

I've never actually had a need to put my helmet on my back while I'm out in the woods, but I've seen a similar product shot somewhere before so I figured WTF. Notice that the pack is emblazoned with CHARGE 360? My pack is a pre-production model and the actual pack name is the CHARGE 450. Why 450? I guess it was ninety better than they originally thought it would be during the graphic design phase. It has a cargo capacity of 754 cubic inches, but calling it the CHARGE 754 would have just sounded stupid.

Here's the CHARGE 450 jammed to the gills with everything I could fit in it... all my gear, my helmet, 100oz of water, some mustard, and a bulky baja I bought in college stuffed in the big, vacuous compartment.

Notice that the helmet doesn't fit as well in the outside pocket thing with the baja stuffed in the main compartment so I'll either have to wear the baja or the helmet while riding or perhaps leave one of them at home.

I'll actually ride with this thing rather than just wear it around the house over the weekend and review it in a slightly more professional manner next week.

Tomorrow I'm thinking it's the time on Sprockets when we talk about the most important race on the international cycling calender, ORAMM.

Yes, it does feel like the world has passed me by since I left for the Tour de Burg two weeks ago. I'm gonna do my best to catch yinzers up on current events and recent thoughts.

Right before I left town I got my copy of the latest Dirt Rag (or as I like to call it "me copy"). I think this would be the 5th issue with an article from yours truly which means they're not sick of me yet.

Truly a fascinating article and a sociologically relevant composition that will wow and amaze. Pick up three copies for yourself today... one to read, one to frame, and one to stick in a time capsule.

A new toy showed up yesterday.

Camelbak? What about the Ergon BD2?

The Ergon has gone on to someone who can enjoy it more than I ever could. It seems to be a great pack for someone who carries everything but the kitchen sink or just a lot of camera equipment. I only used its full capacity three times, on a failed ride to the beach, on the failed attempt at the Pisgah 99 (The Big Hush Hush Ride), and when I succeeded in carrying a mess of beer up Pilot Rock to spectate at the Pisgah Mountain Bike Stage Race.

What's there to like about this new product from Camelbak? Most of the issues I've worked around with my c. 2000 Blowfish have been addressed, and some improvements I never expected were thrown in as well. A decent write up on the new bladder technology is here on Bike Rumor, but in a nutshell:

Bigger fill hole
Easy open cap
Baffled bladder (keeps it from ballooning out)
Two separate methods to keep it from slouching down to the bottom of the pack
Detachable hose
Integrated drying arms

That's just the bladder stuff. I'm not talking about the pack yet.

All these features are pictured in the Bike Rumor post, so I'm not gonna bother swiping them for use over here. Even though I won't be going on a big mountain ride this weekend I plan on trying it out wherever I do go riding so I can find its inherent weaknesses and post them up. I've tried a lot of packs in the last 18 or so years, and most of them ended up on eBay or they're suffering the pack purgatory that is The Bin of Misfit Packs. I am a picky son of a bitch when it comes to bike shit, so if someone can find something to complain about it's me. Can't be too positive in my review... people love dirty laundry.

Sunday I did in fact make it out to the mountains for a ride. This was probably not advisable considering I was nowhere near recovered from the Tour de Burg.

photo cred: Big Worm
A crew was headed to the mountains, and I didn't want to be left behind. This is probably where a good coach like Lynda "Let's be Reasonable" Wallenfels would be handy. She woulda told me not to go since my calves would feel like sandbags and my right quad would be as useful as a mime in a theatrical production of 300. She had this to say about recovery periods for week long stage races:

"Generally, 7 day stage races fall in the 3 week recovery time frame."

She gave out that informational tidbit for free, but she didn't say what to do over that three week time period. I don't think I did what I was supposed to do after the TSE to properly recover before the TdB. Now I have less than three weeks to recover for ORAMM, and I'm pretty sure I'm screwing that up as well. Maybe getting home after the last stage of the TdB at 10:00PM and then going to work and riding my bike was not the best thing to do. Perhaps going for a mini-epic at Wilson's Creek would be considerably inadvisable as well, but you gotta make hay while the sun shines.... or something of that folksy ilk.

Recovery? Namrita wrote an article that was posted on MTB Race News about recovery and multi-day races, but the lack of interactivity on the website and my disinterest in expending too much effort looking for it (setting my recovery back even more) kept me from finding it. I do recall her saying something about avoiding beer. I know beer reeks havoc with recovery (an unverified theory based on hearsay and alchemy), but on days like the 100 mile road stage at the TdB it's hard to feel like I'm rewarding the efforts of the day by putting on compression socks, elevating my legs for 1/2 an hour, taking a nap, and sipping on a 32 oz "recovery drink". Although I absolutely love stage racing I have become aware of the fact that I just don't have the attention span required to be successful at it. I can hold my focus for a few hours and maybe even over a period of 24 hours, but day after day after day after day? Not my cup of tea.

That's all for now.

More

tomorrow.

After the queen mountain bike stage ended I was standing in the parking lot about to jump in a car and head back to town with Peter and Reuben. I was seconds away from loading up when Carp rolled into the lot requesting some company on the ride back to town. As soon as I hopped in he remembered he needed to mark the course for the next day's road stage "on the way home". We spent some time driving around slightly lost, ate tortilla chips, found a map, sprayed some arrows, and talked about gravel, bikes, and the meaning of life. As we drove down a long stretch of paved road towards the finish Carp made sure to tell me to not get left alone out there. It would not be a good place to be alone. We got back late, grubbed on some pasta, and went to bed.

The next day as we rolled outta town we were informed that the first climb on the timed stage would be a KOM. When the pace picked up as the race began I found myself in the "B group" rolling some distance behind the "A group" with one lone rider making a go at the climb on the long approach far ahead. Even though he was far away I could still make out who the rider was, and when I realized it was none other than Reuben Kline I felt inspired to do something stupid. I shifted up and attacked with everything I had. I closed the gap down on the "A group", took a deep breath, and attacked again. I shot off the front of the group and towards the climb looking like one of those guys on the VS Network. I was feeling incredible... for all of twenty seconds. That was when I realized that those guys on TV have something to back up their attacks called "power", and I found myself strung out halfway between the pack and Reuben. At least the learning experience didn't last long. As soon as the climb pitched up I was chewed up and spit out the back of the "A group" with a few wisecracks from the riders who knew my attack was doomed to fail from the start. Oh well, anything worth doing is worth doing while being mocked by your peers.

I dropped back through the pack and was prepared myself to suffer alone. Eventually a group came by with Peter, Buck, Sue George, and Misty. They encouraged me to hop on, and against my better judgment I did. The turns at the front were going somewhere in the neighborhood of 25-30MPH for the most part as we cruised down the flat'esque road. Eventually my ADD got the best of me, and I requested to be dropped off the back. Focusing for that long just to avoid effort and go fast was not a good trade in my opinion and they eventually let me go quietly. Little did I know we were less than two miles from the finish... meh.

The second timed stage was the one I helped Carp mark the night before. We started up a nasty gravel climb that was soooo steep I was spinning out my 28mm tires even in my 36X26 gear. It was nasty, fucked, and hard. Once we got to the top I settled into an "out there by myself all day" pace, and I watched as riders went by me in groups and ones. Down the gravel descent I kept my speed in check, was passed by a few riders, and caught a few others who were slightly less bold than myself.

Then I flatted... hard, like a hippopotamus jumps out of a lake. One of my main goals was to get through the TdB without a flat and I failed. It is actually rare for a rider to make it all six days without a flat, and I was sooooo close. At least I had my shit together.


I was looking forward to a lazy repair, but it seemed like it was over before it started. I was back on the road and headed to the place where I was told to not be alone in that exact non-suggested manner, alone. It was hot, I was tired, the scenery sublime. I wished I hadn't seen what I saw the night before as I knew it was a long, lonely drag ahead. I suffered quietly as the cows watched me ride past their large dining hall/toilets, and towards the end of the hellaciously hot paved section I caught Sue George and she hopped on my wheel. When we hit the final gravel section I left her behind looking anxiously for the comfort of sandwiches and beer.

I would like to say the day's riding was over at that point but after we got back into town we had a couple hours of down time before the 4 mile time trial at Hillandale Park. I remember liking this stage two years ago (when it came earlier in the week), but I was feeling quite burnt at this point. I mounted up the GoPro HD camera to shoot some video, and decided I would make the most of it. I went out kinda hard and took some of the more challenging lines over the rock piles. When I came to a log pile option VS a go-around I took the go-around not knowing if the log pile had a backside. As I tried to squeeze into the go-around I hit a tree with my right shoulder and went down on my freshly heeled from the TSE left knee. After dusting myself off and checking things over the wind was outta my sails and I was as deflated as a week old birthday balloon. The tissue paper of flesh I had recently grown was dangling off my knee and a deep down throbbing kicked in. I came in with a pretty shitty time and even worse, some pretty shitty video since the camera slipped at the start and the angle sucked the whole time. Meh...



One more day to go.

The final day would be the similar to the one I experienced back in 2008. Most of the climbing would be done at a parade pace, and most of the racing would be down and nasty. Before the race started I smeared my knee with A&D Ointment to moisten the scab which had healed flat as a board while I was sleeping. Getting my knee bending again was an exercise in patience, but it didn't matter since I was feeling thoroughly toasted, so I just rode the race portions at a leisurely pace. I put the MOOTS Death Stick into the rotation for shits and giggles and found myself giggling and shitting as the squishy fork made for a fast but not quite what I'm used to kinda ride. I finished the ride, packed up my shit, said my goodbyes, and hit the road for Charlotte.

photo cred: Mike Boyes

My brain is fried and the disconnect of time since the TdB has clogged my mind. I swear this year's TdB was one of the hardest things I've ever done. The heat, the long distances, the extra work around the house helping out, the terrain, my unrecovered condition from the TSE... I swore to myself as I drove off that I'd take another year off before I came back again. Yesterday I found myself thinking about next year. I'm fucked.

Harrisonburg is just that awesome. The race is just that incredible. This year I was the only one riding a single speed on all the MTB stages. This made me a bit more lonely than usual on the trails, but it was peaceful out there... when I wasn't dodging billions of rocks or skidding down the side of a mountain. I don't wanna go back, but I'm afraid I will. Something's wrong with me.

Viva Le Tour!!!!!!!

All right, Tour de Burg race report in three, two, one....

I headed up to Harrisonburg, VA with a plan; get in a lot of training miles for the upcoming ORAMM, have a good time, maybe give 'er a little on the gravel climb road bike stage up Reddish Knob, and definitely stay away from beer and keep my weight under control (thinking about the 10,000 feet of climbing at ORAMM). Well, the plan went out the window when Buck showed up on Carp's porch with two beers in his hands Friday afternoon minutes after my arrival. A plan can only get you so far....

After I settled into the basement at race headquarters I prepared my gear for the prologue at Massanutten Resort. When I came up from my dark dwelling I found that the train had already left, and I was the only one not en route to the start. I tossed my shit in the car, drove where the Englishman on my Garmin told me to, and watched nervously as my reserve tank light came on in my Dirty Little Box. I rolled into the parking lot sweaty and nervous, but ready to do battle.

The women started first including none other than Harrisonburg celebrity Sue Haywood. After the women the TdB regulars took the course, and then us occasional attendees, followed by the "one dayers". I wanted to establish my mid pack status early on, so I gave it 75% of my 85%, and I kept me ego in check rather well. When I started up a climb on a head on collision course with Sue Haywood I realized something was wrong. Sue assured me I was going the wrong way, so I turned and followed her not having a clue where I got off course. Eventually I ran into another rider (Nate Shearer) and he had no idea he went off course, so I turned around again and went back in my original direction. Yes, in hindsight it seemed stupid to not follow Sue, who would probably not be lost on her home course, but the heat of the moment, you know?

Once Nate and I ran into last year's GC winner Ryan Fawley I turned around again. He was pretty sure he knew where we went wrong, so at least I could get back onto the course in the right place. I held onto Fawley's wheel like my life depended on it, and he kindly pointed me back in the right direction at my place of misdirection. I finished out the prologue feeling a bit deflated and came off the course with the third worst time in the GC. With one of the riders trying to purposely get into the DFL jersey by standing around in the woods during the race third from last was not a great place to be.

Day two is still kinda fuzzy in my head. I remember some great trails, some hike-a-bike where I held my own, and a long hot push up a loosely graveled and exposed gravel road up Elliot's Knob. It was a fun stage, but uneventful in terms of mayhem and mishaps. I managed to push myself back up towards mid-pack in the standings, but I was starting to feel my less than recovered condition from the Trans-Sylvania Epic taking its toll.

Day three was supposed to be a road stage @ 70-80 miles followed by a MTB time trial, but due to logistical matters day three was swapped with day five. We would now be doing the monster 100 mile road stage with two major climbs over Confederate Breastworks and the heinous gravel climb up Reddish Knob (where I thought maybe I could improve on my 2008 8th place finish). I wasn't too far into the first timed stage when I realized I was already running on empty. My unrecovered status from TSE combined with the heat just took it all out of me, and I knew I was in for a long day.

At one point I found myself in the company on Cyclingnews' own Sue George (also Mandy Wisell's cousin) on the flat road approaching the climb up Confederate Breastworks. She didn't know who I was (imagine that), but she was willing to tow me along in the flats. I took my turns at the front, but when I was behind her I just kept wishing she would bury me and leave me to suffer alone. Once we hit the base of the climb I left her and started doing my skinny guy suffering thing in a solo manner,

Once I crested the gap I started the twisty descent. I was greeted in the first nasty corner by this guy:

post er visit photo cred: Nater

He had gone down in the first corner and sailed headlong into the guard rail. Seeing this I was reminded of my mortality at speeds above 40MPH, so I feathered my brakes down the climb... by "feathered" I mean I worked them like like a cider press "feathers" the juice from an apple. Sue flew by me along with Buck, but I just kept up my sissy pace down the whole descent. I gotta work on those skills at some point.

The next timed stage after the break for lunch was the nasty climb up Reddish Knob. Although I was originally stoked about this stage I was now in survival mode. I started towards the back, worked my way up a little, and then ground my 36X26 the rest of the way up the hill occasionally pushing on my SRAM Double Tap lever looking for my nonexistent 28 tooth cog. It was hot, I was beat, and the climb was just toooooo long. Normally the top of Reddish is cold and a place where you bundle up for the descent back down, but that day it was just a high elevation oven.

photo cred: Nater

We rode back to town in temps over 100°. My bike computer thing showed 101 miles when I rolled back into Carp's driveway. Owww.

I was "delighted" to find out that the fourth stage was the "queen stage". We'd be riding over 50 miles on the mountain bikes with loads of climbing and on trails described as the"northern rocky GNAR". Early on in the day while riding the parade to the first timed section Carp called out a sprint and KOM bonus at the top of the next hard climb. Although I had zero points in either jersey category I saw no reason to not make a go at it. I went off the front with a small bunch and suffered quietly trying to move up in the group. Gaps were established and I only managed to pull off a fourth place receiving my two token KOM points and my first ever TdB sprint points.

The first time section was as described; a rocky GNAR that just beat the ever loving piss outta me. It's every reason I come to the TdB. I would hardly say that I "raced" it as I just maintained a pleasant pace to get myself to the lunch stop. It's so hard to not sit back and enjoy these kinda trails for all they're worth and forget about the concept of "racing" for awhile.

After the lunch stop we went into the next parade KOM. I have to admit that when your riding a single speed it's kinda hard to slum it to the top with all the folks in their granny gear, so the best thing is to do is just gun it and relax at the top for as long as possible in the "Africa heat" (TdB leader Drew's words). This time I was able to maintain a spot behind Pro Bike's Justin P all the way to the top to nab second place KOM points and my last shot at climbing glory.

The next timed section of the day was my favorite riding of the entire week. Extremely steep downhills, rock gardens that were more like rock farms, and a descent with so many technical moves I was befuddled and beside myself trying to figure it all out. It was a fabulous day in the woods, and although I was just about beat down entirely from the effort it was easy to smile and drink a beer at the bottom when it was all said and done. I was certainly feeling the effects of being thoroughly wiped out, but nothing could taint the experience of riding down that much nasty in one day.

I'll finish this up tomorrow... I promise.

Yeah, I'm kinda sorta taking one more day off, which means I got up about 75 minutes too late to post a proper kind of entry, and the blog will suffer another day of Tour de Burg free suckage.

I watched the video I shot at the Hillandale Time Trial from day five of the TdB last night. The wreck was pretty lame and the camera slipped so the angle is off for a great majority of the video. Perhaps I can make something of it... no promises.

Hopefully my ducks will get back in their orderly rows by Monday so I can get my nightmare Tour de Burg out of my head and into the digital world. I am currently wrecked. ORAMM here I come.

Wanna read something in the mean time? Although it will not satiate your desire for my full unabashed Tour de Burg report, how about my official entry into the Bike Rumor Media Cup?

I was sorta busy at a stage race, but I still managed to squeeze my information on the dotted lines on the official entry form, a task no other "journalist" has done yet. Go ahead and read it now.

but barely.

Rolled into my yard to unload my gear around 10:00PM last night, then I slept in till 6:45.

The Tour de Burg?

Hot....


Hot and hard.

Maybe the words will start flowing tomorrow. Maybe Monday. I am a wee little shell of a man.

I do have some video with some wreck footage. You'll see it eventually.

and against my better judgement I signed up for most important race on the international cycling calender; ORAMM.

Kinda last minute.

Even though the ride I did on Sunday was a preview of some of the hard stuff at ORAMM, and I had my ass handed to me all day long.

Even though I wished I could just walk away from this race.

This morning my name is on the list.

This morning Will Black's name made the list as well.

Who's Will Black?

This is Will Black (handsome guy in the middle) showing his ass to Lance Armstrong at a cross race in 2002. Lance did end up winning, but rumor has it that Will let him by because he loves the US Postal Service that much. He runs out to the mail box like a kid every day.

Last time I did ORAMM with a Will Black in the race he was in the open class on a single speed. He would have done all right (won, destroyed, went out on a second lap?) but he flatted twice and then spent the rest of the day riding with Captain Morgan mocking him the entire time after I blew past him at check point three.

This year I don't think I'll be so lucky. I will give it my all, but Will has a lot of all, all the Will, and some really bad ass tattoos. I'm going down swinging, so stand back. I have a feeling Will's gonna toss me off the top step of the podium like a lawn dart.