No Hellhounds Today

It was too nice out today to not go for a spin. I'm still beaten up from the weekend but it was a bad day at work and I needed a mental break so I decided to spin my legs out and take a cruise down Clinton Road. The hurricane washed out a few sections of the road and a bridge is out. It's terrible that the damage was done and that the road is closed. It's put a damper on my commute some days. However, on the selfish side it is nice to be able to ride down the middle without a care in the world.

Clinton Road is a place of urban legends and folklore. I didn't grow up in NJ but anyone who grew up in this area has a Clinton Road story. I'll have to admit that it is a little creepy. Mike and I had a strange experience driving home really late one night. That story is for another time...maybe. All I can say about it right now is that we screamed like school girls.

Rumors of witches, new species of animals that evolved after the demise of Jungle Habitat, scattered body parts, a castle in the woods where strange rituals take place....etc.

'U R Dead' after the curve

Clinton Reservoir

Come ride it at dusk or drive it at night. Maybe you'll get lucky and a ghost or a man in a lab coat will come out to play. Boowahahahahahaaaaa.

The Terror

To say that there are hike a bike sections at Michaux is a major understatement. If you hate getting off of your bike and walking/scrambling/hiking minutes at a clip because of the gnarl, this is not the place for you. It's no cupcake ride.This is most likely the reason the Michaux series does not pull a lot of riders. It's hard as hell and can be/is somewhat demoralizing at times. There are no weak riders. I know the drill. I've been there before. The start list is always full of endurance racing vets and those that ride Michaux. There are no middle of the packers to hide in. The Terror of Teaberry was billed as the most technical of the three. I chose to ride the SS. I knew it was not going to be easy.

I actually had to buy a spinny gear. I bought a 21 on Friday. This is the easiest gear we've ever had in our arsenal. I ran a 34/21. Should have changed to a 32/21. As I was sitting at the start line I was checking the other ss men's gears. Shit. There were a lot of 32/20s and 32/21s. Long day ahead.

At the second aid station I needed water in my Camel Back. The volunteer insisted on helping me take it off, filling it and assisting me in putting it back on. I'm always grateful and love the help. However, I was hesitant and a little embarrassed. I knew it was nasty. I could smell the funk. When it's making you sick while you're riding you know it's bad. He took it from me and I hesitated, telling him it was nasty and I could do it. He waved me off and told me he had been touching the sweaty backpacks all day. I told him it was really ripe. No really. While he was filling it he looked at me and I think his eyes were tearing up and his face was starting to melt, "You're right, This is the nastiest one I've touched all day. Oh my God. And a chick." Ripest Camel Back award. I've won something. There's that.

The gear was too much for me to ride on some of the rock gardens. Well, the whole course was pretty much a rock garden on top of a big rock with loam in between. I kept getting caught up and losing forward motion. The trails were loamy and soft and it sapped the legs. It's twisty and technical as hell so forget about momentum. At around mile 20 my legs were on strike. Couldn't stand and pedal. Couldn't sit and pedal.The promoter is serious with his cut-off points. He has to have markings down and the course cleared by a certain time. There were a few of us together at the end. Some had already dropped off at the second aid station and called it a day. The motos were following us and as we would pass an arrow they would rip it off the tree. This did not make me feel better about myself. I technically could have made the last cut-off. However, I knew that the last 3 miles would be the longest of my life. I was done. The guys on the motorcycle got two people I was riding with to turn off and ride the road back. I kept buying more time and riding the course. "We'll see how this section goes and then I'll decide". They were trying to be cool but I knew they wanted me to ride back on the road. The one guy looked at me at my point of waving the white flag and realized I was on an SS and said "Fuck. You were on an SS all day? That's ballsy as hell for a chick. Nice work out there." It didn't make me feel better. I was pissed but I finally conceded. I rode back to the truck and I had a small tantrum and ripped my shoes and helmet off and yelled at Mike. I was a maniac for about 5 minutes. I finally took an Ike break and became somewhat normal again.

I should have known it was going to be a long day...

The good news is that (and this may sound odd to most) I finally truly know the feeling of cumulative fatigue. I've never been able to get here because I've gotten sick and have always had to take a few steps back. I know what it feels like when I'm flared up and not right. It's a hot, painful, burning fatigue and weakness. That I know intimately. This time it was a numbness in my legs. No jump. No pain. It felt like I had some else's legs. They just wouldn't listen. I was way too excited to describe this new feeling to Mike and Gordon at dinner. They both looked at me and said, "You're cooked. You've ridden more in the past month and a half than you did the last two summers. You've done over 250 miles of mtb racing/events in the last month and a half. Plus rides." Well, when I look at it like that it makes me feel like I've accomplished something. Yay!! Cooked without being at the doctor's office or in the hospital (knock on wood). I've finally made it. I'm aware that it could all change tomorrow, but it's been a good run.

Limbo

I've been having an identity crisis lately. What am I? Gearie? Singlespeeder? Hmmmm. 26er hardtail? 26er fully? SS 29er? Rigid SS 29er? It's lovely having options. It really is. However, because I switch bikes so much I've ended up in limbo. I kinda suck on everything right now.

Geax AKAs are really no fun in the slippery stuff

I'm having crazy thoughts of riding my SS at Michaux this weekend. This all started last weekend when I realized Saturday that the rear shock in my Epic was done. It was crunchy, boingy and bottoming out with like 180 #s in it. A goner. I needed a new rear shock. I had accepted the fact that I was going to have to ride my SS. Normally that's not an issue for me. I enjoy my SS. However, after the last traumatizing experience at Michaux I thought it best to take the Epic back for round two. I took the Epic into Dark Horse on Saturday and by Tuesday they had Bigs ready to roll again. Wow. That was fast. Thank you! All ready for me to take to Michaux. Perfect. Tonight I had a choice. I could have gone for a ride or I could have driven to the shop to get my Epic. I decided on the ride tonight. Shop tomorrow. I wanted to make the final decision on the bike for Sunday.

It was slimy tonight. I had some issues at first but it came together. The Geax AKA is not on my favorite things list for wet, slippery, mossy, rocky, rooty...that's for damn sure. I was a little hesitant after a few near crashes. I let out some air in the back tire and made myself practice a few sections and I finally got it (somewhat) together. I've decided to go with the SS for the weekend. Crazy talk, right? It still has to be better than last time. That's me being optimistic.

So as I was nearing the end of Sitting Bear tonight I came upon this in the trail and was cursing the rider who left a beat tube in the trail. Not a tube...

He really didn't care about me. It was time to get his chipmunk on....

I will probably have nightmares tonight. Not probably. Most certainly.

Afterthought

Woke up this morning and this was in our fridge...

Beer N Bacon

Mike's prize for the short track race on Saturday. I was supposed to do it but I wasn't feeling so hot. The sudden cool snap has not been kind to my body. I woke up this morning and felt a little better after coffee and a hot shower. I knew I needed a quality ride with some intensity today. I also knew that I was feeling tired and lazy from work and work-outs this week and if I went out by myself I would lolly gag and daydream. I decided to dust off my USA Cycling license and head for Round Top, NY for Riedlbauer's Round Top Rally. My SS had an acceptable, non-retardo gear on it (thank you very much) so I was ready to roll.

I had told myself that I needed to try and hang on as long as possible to the gearies. This was plan A. After I did a warm-up lap to look at the course I knew this was going to be a tall order. My legs and arms had a little fatigue working. I felt so lazy. Snap out of it. Plan B: Pedaling and forward motion and finish before everyone else has cleaned up and has had two beers.

The start wasn't horrible. They didn't start as fast as I expected. I thought I could possibly get in second to the singletrack if I wanted to put in the effort. Problem was that I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I did. Didn't have the legs to hold it and the initial singletrack was a little bony and I wasn't as fast/comfortable as everyone else on their full suspensions. I would work way too hard only to be passed 30 seconds later. Those girls knew the course and I knew being behind was the right place for me. I cruised through the first two laps without issues.

On the third lap, I crashed because I was avoiding ankle munch. I saw it coming and jerked the right to remove my ankle from a precarious situation and then I slammed my right leg into a rock and this threw me to the left and I smashed my hand into a tree. Let's just say my fork has it's first blem. I ended up finishing in not too bad of shape. Both body and time wise.

Before I left the house this morning and was contemplating going to NY I promised myself Mallowmars if I did it. So sad, right? The cash was nice but the Mallowmars on the way home was the major score of the day. Will work for Mallowmars.

If you've never been to Riedlbauer's, I highly recommend it. The course is awesome and the venue is beautiful. You can also get schnitzel and a spezial when you finish.

Fallish

The day started off with me working in Newark all day and a homeless man telling me I had a "nice backside for a white girl. " Still not sure how I want to take that one. Newark is not one of my favorite places to be. However, kettle corn from the farmer's market made it a little more bearable. I have a popcorn habit. From styrofoam air-popped with nothing on it to movie theater popcorn with artery clogging goodness and everything in between. It's all good.

Didn't really plan on riding tonight. I had given myself a reprieve from working out for the day. My run on Wednesday left me feeling not so chipper. However, after consuming a bag of kettle corn on my commute home I thought it best to get on the bike. Jungle it was. I drove down because it was late, looked like rain and riding up the Warwick Turnpike in the dark is never fun.

Pic from WeirdNJ.com

Jungle's a great place to go when you have limited time and you want to frustrate the hell out of yourself. It's a place where you either love it or hate. Depends on the day. People who have never been there and just show up for the race have provided the following thoughts/questions after the race: "Mind Fuck", "I'll never do that again," "That's NOT a racecourse," "What the hell was that?" "Was that a donkey?" "Are those cages?" "This is no place for bar ends."


If you're having a bad bike handling day or your balance is off you should probably go elsewhere. It's not going to be fun. It's not 6 foot drop tech. It's rocky, tight, pedal smacking, twisty, technical. All rideable if you're on. If you try to 'race' it, Jungle will beat you. Just staying on the bike is the fastest way around. It's mostly mental for me. As it got darker I started to ride better. I couldn't see what the hell I was riding over. I just did it.

What's wrong with this picture?

Ahhh, yes. fall is here....


On my way home I went to the grocery and it took everything in me to not buy Mallowmars. Wonder how long that will last? Damn you Nabisco. Damn you.

Solo

Not much to report. I guess that's a good thing. Happy to say that I have been back on the bike since Shen. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of last week it poured again and the flooding that started to recede was back. Gave me an excuse to not do anything. The three hour commutes to work because of road closures were all the excitement I could handle. Being lazy was justified.

Thursday, there was an unfamiliar sight in the sky and Mike and I decided to check out Waway to see what damage Irene had done. Surprisingly, it was in pretty good shape. There were some trees down and it was hard to get through at points. I may have even ripped the ass out of a pair of shorts trying to get over the tree in the picture. The areas that are normally wet after a rain were underwater (way under water) but that was to be expected. I rode the SS with a a gear too big for Waway. Or I should say a gear that makes Waway unfun. I know better. It wasn't pleasant and was a lot more work than what I had signed on for but I didn't feel as shitty as expected. It was a relief to be back on the ss. Saddle sores were healing. Hands were starting to feel normal. Lower back didn't feel like someone was stabbing me. All was right with the world.

Rock bridges were under water but at least they were intact. That's a lot deeper than it looks. No, thank you.

Saturday, I went out by my lonesome and just enjoyed the bike. I ended up doing the same on Sunday. Sunday, I just needed my brain to shut off. I needed the thoughts and memories to stop. I just wanted to get lost. I rode and rode. I rode until my racing thoughts quieted down and eventually, I could only hear my breath and the bike rolling on the trail. I haven't been able to lose myself in the bike like that in a long time.

I can now officially say that it is legal to ride a section of the Appalachian Trail. It has been rerouted down our rode because the flooding wiped out the bridge over Longhouse Creek/River. There's some interesting foot traffic to say the least.

Thinking about the Michaux-Terror of Teaberry race. Rumor has it it's the most technical one. That doesn't make me feel good after my last experience there. Probably should put in a little time at Skyline on my weapon of choice if I want to finish that one. We'll see...

I also registered for Iron Cross. Not sure what the hell I'm thinking. My CX bike has been untouched and in the shed since we moved here. Before that it acted as the winter bike and coat hanger in the apartment. I guess I should pull it out and see if it needs any work. That's on my list of to-dos this week. I could ride my XC bike but I would feel like a loser. I'd rather ride my POS CX bike and have my C spine jostled out of line and my teeth vibrated out of my head than look like a goober.

Sounds like a good time, right?

So Long, Monkey

Yes. It's true. I finally finished a hundred. My goal was to finish one this summer and I finally did it. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't fast. There was some laughter, some smiles, some hallucinating, some barfing, but dammit...I finished.

I didn't get to the drop those 20 lbs. last week as I had hoped. Go figure. That would have made life a little easier. I'll admit I was nervous about finishing. I felt okay at the start and that helped. However, as a non-climber and a person who doesn't ride gears that often I was terrified all of the spinning would eat me alive. Eat me alive it did.

The start was interesting. This year they had you line up according to your approximate/realistic finish time. Needless to say I headed to the rear. I wanted no part of getting caught up in any craziness. I just needed to ride at my pace for the day. Once the horn sounded, it took me a few minutes to reach the start banner and about 7 to get to the one-lane bridge. I just prayed no squirrelies caught my wheel and took me down with them. There were riders everywhere.

Halfway in and I was making good time without even thinking about it. Smiling, chatting, laughing. I was working with people on the roads. It was a big, fun group ride. I saw Alex on the road after Aid Station #3. After the race he told me I looked good when he saw me. I felt good. Then it happened.

About 54+ miles in I had some issues to say the least. I all of a sudden got cold and clammy (mind you it was hot and humid). I had horrible stomach cramps. I couldn't stand upright. I was sweating profusely and had the shakes. I pulled off the side of the trail and had to sit there. I couldn't think. I couldn't get my legs to move. I went to the dark place. I took another drink and my body rejected it and I barfed it up about 30 seconds later. I've been hyponatremic before so I was very careful about intake. Fellow riders showed concern and pulled off to make sure I was okay. A guy sat with me for a bit and he made sure I could keep down fluids before he left me. He offered me a Pop-Tart and I thought I was going to barf again. I held it together. Drank a little more. Took some endurolytes and tried to eat a bar before I got up. I got up and walked my bike. I remember having trouble keeping one foot in front of the other and feeling drunk. I had about a two-hour time period where I was barely moving. I was a shell of a person. I played episodes of Seinfeld in my head to keep me going. I remember mumbling "Festivus for the rest of us," under my breath on a few occasions.

I was on a gravel road at the base of the big climb to Aid Station #5 and I came upon a tandem team. The chat and ride with the JV Squad tandem guys kept me alive. I think I even offered to put them up if they ever wanted to come to NJ to ride Ringwood, Wawayanda, Jungle Habitat or Diablo. That's how thankful I was for the JV Squad's smiles and conversation. Those guys were awesome.

No lights for me so I was a little nervous after my body let me know that it wasn't happy with this hundred malarkey. I did not want to be pulled because I did not have lights. I made it to Aid station #5 with plenty of time to spare. Everyone kept telling me Aid #5 is at the top of the 25 mile climb. It's not bad after that. BULL SHIT. Had I known what was after Aid station #5 I wouldn't have been so hopeful. Ignorance is bliss. The last climb was shorter but it was by far the most painful. There was carnage everywhere up the climb. Riders were sitting at the side of the trail moaning and clutching various body parts. Some were in the fetal position. I can't make this shit up. I attempted to spin up the final climb and realized people were walking as fast as I was pedaling. Hot mess. Tried to put it in a harder gear and pretend I was on the SS. It helped for a bit with forward progress but I was spent.

Everyone I spoke to complained how their hands were killing them on the downhills and that they were afraid they would slip off the brake. The final down hill was interesting for me. My grip was sketchy at best at that point. I had to pull over and walk, not because it was technical, but because I couldn't hold onto the bars without the fear that my hands would slip off the brake and I would be catapulted into a ravine. I'd made it that far without a crash I didn't want to end my hopes of finishing at mile 96. That would be a kick in the ass. Walking the downhill to the finish? Seriously? Welcome to Shen.

It's always the unflattering photos that tell the real story

I gave my hands a little pep-talk and got back on and I realized I was dropping into the campground. The smile was back. I could hear the people and the cheers as I came in and I couldn't stop smiling. Mike, Jane and Alex were all there to welcome me home. Tired. Spent. Stoked. A weight has been lifted.

Neighborhood Watch

It's always this time of the year when I start getting home from work later and later and the sun goes down earlier and earlier. Unless I get up at 5 am and wait for the sun to come up (it's been done, but I'd rather not) I have to get a workout in when the sun's going down. If you work normal hours and ride a bike you know what I'm talking about. Ride the trainer (Boo. Hiss.) or go out in the dark.

I haven't been doing very much lately so I needed to kinda wake up the lungs and legs last night and make sure all the shifty bits on the bike work before we venture to Shen. So I put on my headlamp, which barely allows me to see my computer let alone see the road, and did my loop around the house. We've been the neighborhood freaks since we moved in. Hiking, snow-shoeing, running, bikes, lycra, chopping wood and shoveling snow all in the name of exercise...it's a lot to take in for this crowd. Doing laps around the hood is mind numbing. Thankfully, I have my own cheering section to keep me motivated and entertained.

Our neighbor, George, is always outside and has become a regular part of my neighborhood workouts. I'm starting to think he looks forward to it. Last night was no exception. As I was warming up, I saw him outside settling into his chair with a beer to watch the show. 70s and 80s Rock is always blasting when he's outside. There may even be an old Trans-Am covered in the driveway. "What do we have going tonight?" he said. "Intervals to wake up the body," I yelled over Sebastian Bach belting out 18 & Life. "Cool," he shouts. So I started my said workout and every time I passed him he screamed at me one or more of the following:


"Pedal, Pedal, Pedal!"


"Don't be afraid of the gravel in the corner!"


"I was worried about you. Where've you been? You're getting slower!"


"I don't have all night."


On some laps he would be in his side yard with beer in hand to have a better vantage point up the hill and he would yell, "Get it girl. Don't quit on it!! I'm chasing you. I'M CHASING YOU!! HERE I COME!! RAAARRRRRR." At times I'm laughing so damn hard I can barely pedal.

After about 10 laps he asked how much longer I was going to be out there because he had things to do. I told him one last lap and then we were in cool down mode. In true George form he waited until I came back around and offered me a cold Gatorade or beer. Or both. I declined and pedaled down the street home and then turned around and went by George's again. Silence. No hair bands or CCR playing. He went inside. I knew he waited to make sure I was okay.


Off to Shen. Fingers crossed.