Hillseekers Adventure has Begun

We've arrived successfully in Rüschlikon, Switzerland for our Hillseeking adventure.
See what we are up to by going here
(my photo blog). So far, I've posted our first three rides. I will do my best to keep up to date, but can't make any promises!
Tschüess!

Queen For A Day

A valuable lesson was learned this weekend; Royalty looks better than it feels!

Cartecay Mike and crew had cooked up an epic race that is surely to become the new ride tradition. Dubbed The Drama Queen ride, it would cover the Pinhoti trails, Windy Gap, Milma, Tibbs, Bear Creek, and even some paved road climbing for good measure. I know everyone of these trails by heart, and reading the description made my palms sweat. 53 miles, 7,000' climbing. Yea, whatever. I ain't doing that.

Three guesses as to what Raja declared our ride for the wkd would be, and the first 2 guesses do not count. That's right. He wanted to do the Drama Queen. "Oh, you've got to be kidding!" "They have a 30 mile option," he said. We can do that. Alright. Now you're talking some sense.

For over 10 years, we have been doing a similar ridiculous feat called The Firewater50. When we were in racing shape, this was a challenge, but it did not bring us to the edge of death like it does nowadays. If you read my post from last year's FW50, you will see I clearly stated, "So for the record, "I'm not doing this next year!"

There was not a whole lot of difference between the Drama Queen route and FW50 route. However, with FW, you start the most brutal part of the race straight off; climbing Windy Gap and Tibbs. That's how the Drama would come into play with the DQ race. You do not hit Windy & Tibbs until almost mile 30. If you have had any encounter at all with these climbs, then you know how wrong and twisted that is. I was going to have nothing to do with it. We could do the 30 and let the wackos play all drama-like.

My week had not been a good one in regards to riding. Every ride I started was cut short because my legs felt like cement bags. Sweetwater joined me for a ride at Blankets on Friday, and I tried hard to hide my pain.

With only 4 1/2 hrs of riding for 6 days, I had to do something on Saturday. Raja wanted to join the atlbike.org gang for 40 miles early Saturday morning. When the 6am wakeup nudge came, I defiantly said, "I'm not going, I'm sleeping in." phooey. I could already tell I was going to feel like crap, and I'm sick and tired of getting up at 0:darkhundred. He left me to my drama and I slept in another hour. whoopee.

My plan was to spin around for a couple hours from the house. My 2 hour ride was quickly reduced to one hour. This is ridiculous. Drastic action was needed if I was going to do 30 miles tomorrow. This calls for an ice bath. The drama was in full swing, and the Drama Queen ride was still a day away!

Sunday morning we rolled up to 90B behind Terry, Kevin, and Mary. In full dramatic fashion, we were the first of the contenders to arrive. Then I saw it. The crown.
Dramatic thoughts rushed through my brain. OOooooo, that crown is so purdy. So pink and majestic. I would definitely feel like a queen if I could wear that on my head. "Raja, I want that crown."
Mary manned the registration table that was lined with shiny medals, crowns, and a big official looking time clock. "Are ya'll doing the 30 or the 55?" she asked.
"We're doing the 55," I stated. How else would I get my hands on that crown? Raja muttered something about signing up for the 55, but we would decide when we got to the sag stop. I had already decided. That crown had my name on it.

The final call of this dramatic play was made when the race numbers came out. Not just any ole numbers, but official Number Plates.

I had officially retired my racing number years ago at the Carters Lake race in March of 2000. Bam-bam suckered me into racing in the GA Singlespeed Championships in March of 2007. I came out of retirement. It was very dramatic. Put the dang race number away, please!

Something happens when you put a Race Number on my bike. I become a moron. Normal brain functions disappear. A vicious mean devious creature in me emerges, and I have no control over myself. My evil twin takes over. I could feel it begin to happen even as I held the #1 Number Plate in my hand. Once I put it on my bike, I knew it would all be over. The metamorphosis would take place and there would be no turning back.

The masses were arriving and the drama was rising. Shredders like Shane, Scott, Flatfender, and Duckman showed up to register. This was going to be a showdown. Kit was ready for us. Her task as the sag-troller would not be an easy one with this overly dramatic crowd. Yea, arm yourself, Kit. Hmmmm, maybe I could use that gun myself. I thought of a way to wrestle it away from her.
Tension rose, tempers flared, tantrums were pitched. The theatrical contestants tried to calm the dramatic madonnas.With the crowd getting antsy, and the clock ticking close to 10:30, I hollered for Mike. "Hey, let's roll!" I was ready for business.
So, at 10:30, we were off with a bang. Like race horses out of the gate, we sped down the gravel 90B road skidding all over the place like on an ice rink. Shane quickly laid down the gauntlet and no one was afraid to take chase. We had not even reached FSR90 and I was fighting for position. Oh dear, this is going to be a long drama filled day.
For a brief moment, my competition had been forgotten in my mind. All I could focus on was my spiking heart rate and the pack pulling away from me. When it comes to racing, the only way you can do it well is to....well.....race. Duh. So why am I surprised that I'm having a hard time keeping their pace when they're all racers and I am not? Because I used to be a racer, dang it. Doesn't that count for something? Can I not withdraw from my old race account? "Yes, I'd like to withdraw 5 hours of anaerobic threshold effort please, and could you give me that in large numbers?" "But mam, your account has been frozen due to inactivity."

I told that stupid teller to buzz off. In my anger, I sprinted for the imaginary preem on Gates Chapel Road before they left me in their dust going up Bear Creek Camp Road. Watch your back, boys. I'm going to hunt you all down! Yea, right.

Instead, every few seconds a rider would slip by me as we climbed up to Bear Creek. I made a quick check to make sure they were at least guys. If a girl passes me, then somethin' has to give. Two guys were just ahead of me as we popped into the singletrack and headed to Pinhoti 1. I was quite disgusted with my lack of strength and speed. I should be able to take these guys, but could only watch as they pulled away on the climb of P1.

Not far into the climb, I sensed a rider back. Going around a switchback, I made a quick check down the trail below me. Shoot fire, it's Mary. Sweet, lovable, my dearest friend, Mary. The evil twin in me wanted to annihilate her. I breathed a deep sigh. Realizing this was not going to be an easy fight, I tried to gather my wits and formulate a plan.

Mary is a strong climber. In fact, the last time I rode with her, she pretty much annihilated me on the climb up Springer Mountain. Maybe she was suffering from the flu today. Though, she looked awful chipper at registration. I'm going to have to pull some tricks out my camelbak in order to stay her off. Maybe on the downhill. That was my only hope.

We got to the first downhill pitch of P1 and I kicked it in high gear. In a parsec, I was on the tail of the guy in front of me. Hello, evil twin here. You're going to have to get out of my way. Without wasting time, I made sure he knew of my presence ON his back wheel. Fortunately, he didn't suffer from much racing-induced drama, and asked if I wanted to pass. Uh, yea.

Zoom! I zipped by him like a roach darts cross the kitchen floor. Flying as fast as I could, I reached the next climb. Mr. Drama Free racer was quickly closing in as we climbed, but I was not about to let him pass me. Not wanting to dig into my redline, I watched my heartrate climb to 150. "Gotta get to the top of the rise before Mary comes into view. Must start the descent ASAP."

Again, I flew down P1 with wild abandon. Right at the bottom I could see a rider in front of me. Hmmm, he must not be a good descender for me to come on him this fast. I do NOT want to be behind him for the P2 descent. Strategize.

He solved that problem for me as he quickly pulled away from me as we climbed out of P2. I could see Larry ahead on the climb. Surely I will gain on Larry, and we can work together. Wrong. They both pulled away. This was making me angrier by the second. Why am I so lame? No time to pitch a fit. I had to keep ahead of Mary.

P1 was over, and the gravel road climb up to P2 began. Any minute now, Mary would be on my heels. What am I going to do with that girl? Staying on task, I tried to keep my heartrate in check while giving it my best effort. She was back there, but how fast was she closing in on me? I could not tell and did not want to waste time looking.

Another rider came into view ahead of me on the climb. That's always good to have a carrot ahead. It gave me something on which to focus and I put it in a higher gear. Maybe I could crack Mary a little bit. As I topped out at the top of P2, I think I had managed to keep some distance. Now for the afterburners. There better not be any guys in my way.

Namrita was just ahead, but had the sense to move over before I even got near. "Hey, Namrita!" She knows the evil twin syndrome all too well. Two guys were ahead, but they sensed my circle of drama and stood to the side. Continuing to fly with thoughts of "forward, fast, calm, forward" I was closing in on the rider I had seen at the bottom of P1. Yea, this is the one I do not want to be behind. There would be no time wasted being polite. I stated the facts, "Hey, can I come by?" He complied. Ah, this was working out well. Bodies littering the trail between me and Mary. Hahahaha, that'll slow her down.

At the bottom of P2, a handful of riders were gathered. EddieO and friends were hanging out. I thought to tell them to block the trail when Mary came by, but did not want to waste time stopping to blurt it out. A left turn would take me to a paved road on to Hwy 52 for a road climb. I assumed the narrow aerodynamic position and made like a shaver. Time to time trial.

As I turned right onto Hwy 52, multiple glances over my shoulder were made to check for an orange jersey. No Mary to be seen. Good. Now, get far enough up this climb to get out of view. Out of sight, out of mind.

How do you lock out this 140mm Talas fork? Raja had given me instructions, but obviously I paid no attention in class. Is it this lever? No, it's still moving. Forget it, I'll climb squishy and all. Now I feel very blonde and very slow. I should have been picking off some riders at this point, but instead I am lightyears behind the pack. Grrrrrrrrr.

The climb was not bad to me. A middle ring ascent, but it went on for at least 3 miles. Deciding to give another security check, I looked over my shoulder. Bleepity bleep. There's that bloody Mary. I waved my arm at her in a cheery manner, but inside I loathed her presence. Then I decided, "Fine, if you're going to take my rightful crown, then I'm going to make you work hard for it." I was not going down without a fight.

A figure loomed ahead. The jersey colors looked familiar. Could it be a ray of sunshine in my otherwise dreary day? It was! RaceyTracey was climbing ahead of me. She and Tweety had started the 30 miler from Gates Chapel. When I caught up to her, I gave her strict instructions. "When Mary comes by, knock her over or do whatever you need to do, okay?!"

With no time to be all chatty cathy, I proceeded on up the road. EddieO came bolting past me as if I were standing still. Now, why can't I climb like that? "Cause you're too lazy to train for it." Again, I told my evil twin to shut up.

Finally, the sign for P3 could be seen ahead. Two riders were standing there, one fiddling with his bike. It was Raja and Tweety. So insanely driven at this point, I could not muster up anything to say other than, "When Mary comes by, do something to her." Then I sped by them to bomb the downhill.

Full speed ahead, I was locked in on the goal. Gain some time on the downhill. As I continued down the trail, the voices of 2 riders could be heard. They were chatting away as if at a tea party. Who are these jokers? Oh, it's Carebear and PBC. I yelled out to them to announce my soon arrival, "Uh guys, this isn't social hour, it's a race. Stop the chatter."

"Mama, is that you?" Carebear asks. "Yea, it's me, and I'm racing." I can hear PBC saying something and I know it ain't what I want to hear. He's a trickster like me, and he wanted to play a game. Mama don't play games, remember?!

I was on their wheel and no move was being made to let me pass. "No really guys, I'm serious. Let me by." PBC is still kidding around. He should know, you never kid a kidder. Carebear was an innocent bystander in this showdown. I gently nudged him and said, "I'm coming by, Carebear." As I slithered past him on the way-too-narrow-to-pass trail, his front wheel caught the downslope and he began to slide down the trail. "Oh! I'm sorry, Carebear," I said over my shoulder as I continued on, "Are you okay?" I really did not mean harm to him and felt badly.

Now as for PBC. He realized this was a game he would not win, and let me pass. "Thank you, Matt! I gotta keep making time on Mary!"

In the meantime, Raja had taken chase and was closing in on us. Carebear got back on track and jumped on my wheel as we climbed the mid section of P3. We were taking on the dreaded switchbacks and I encouraged Carebear on as we gritted our teeth to make it up the steep pitch. I could tell he had made the turn. "Good job!" I hollered out. "Thanks, that was just what I needed to help me make it," he said. "Well, it's the least I could do after running you off the trail!" Apparently he held no grudge and let my evil twin off the hook.

Knowing Raja was right behind us, I did my best to downhill as fast as I could without crashing. Then I decided to let him in front in hopes that it would push me even faster. We made it to the bottom with no crashes and coolers of extra water and food waiting. "We have to make this quick, Mary is right behind me."

Duckman was at the sag stop looking rather calm in contrast to my hysteria. "What are ya'll doing, the 30 or 55?" he asked. Still caught in the stronghold of my race number's power, I let Raja know we were doing the 55. He appeared disappointed at my decision and not overly thrilled with this prospect. Duckman was not suffering from racing-induced stupidity and was doing the 30. Carebear was happy just to be along for the ride and wanted to tag along with us. We refueled quickly, said good-bye to Duckman, and carried on down the gravel road towards Windy Gap.

By now, only 2 1/2 hrs had passed. Other than having pathetic weak legs, my body did not feel too bad. I was hoping that would last me a while because the worst had yet to come.

As we pedaled away, I could hear voices of riders coming down the last switchback of P3. One of them was a female's voice. Was it Tracey or was it Mary? My evil twin said it was Mary, so get a move on!

The gravel road to Windy Gap is a good bit downhill, but some climbs and flats are there as well. Raja and Carebear pulled away on the climbs. I needed these 2 at this point. They would be the motivation necessary to keep me consistent and pushing ahead.

Carebear's water bottle dropped out, but I stopped to retrieve it. Wow, my evil twin must be losing its power. I handed it off to him without stopping. Let's get to the paved road.
My heroes pacelined it the few miles to the Windy Gap turnoff. Seeing them with those silly crowns on made me giggle. I am riding like a crazed women with a paper plate on my bike and a gold crown on my helmet. This is too funny. I AM the Drama Queen.

In the meantime, I had to get my drama queen arse up 4 miles of Windy Gap. The first 2 are not so bad and were made in the middle ring. It's the last half that is so dreadful. This is where FW50 usually begins, with fresh legs. I've got 28 miles and 3 hrs in my legs this time. This is so gonna hurt.

I have never climbed so slowly in my life. Inch by inch, I turned over the pedals, climbing the trail lying below 10" of loose dust and dirt. My only consolation was to clean this climb. Convinced Mary was going to be on me at any moment, I had to do something dramatic that no one else would do. The last pitch is wicked steep, and I do not know how I did it. But I cleaned it and felt very much the Queen for my accomplishment.

Carebear and I waited at the turnoff of the Milma Trail for Raja. I lubed my butt up with some awesome cream I've discovered. This stuff is the bomb. Better than anything else I've tried, and I've tried alot. Sorry for the frankness, but if you're a cyclist, there's not much that you don't discuss no matter how personal!

I needed some calming cream for my mind at this juncture. Milma is a mind numbing 4 1/2 mile grind on undulating doubletrack. It gives you alot of time to mull over your impending doom awaiting you at Tibbs.

Carebear and Raja stopped before taking the left up Tibbs. Not me. I had to keep this train moving lest I decide to disembark. I took the hard left and climbed up the rocky wall while picking the worst line possible. Just waiting for my bike to come out from beneath me, I was shocked as it continued on up the trail over boulders. Wow! This MotoLite always amazes me at its climbing prowess. I realized that this was my first attempt at Tibbs on the new steed, and I was encouraged that maybe its supernatural powers would help me make it to the top ahead of Mary.

The climb went ever so slow. Slower than the climb up Windy Gap. Normally, if you climb at 2.5 mph in such loose dirt and rocks, the bike will not follow through. But the MotoLite was a dream, and I was able to literally plod along at a snail's pace. Sometimes my speed would not even register. Having climbed Tibbs a zillion times, I know my usual pace. It's 3-4 mph in the steep stuff and 5 mph in the tamer sections. Today was a new record. Slow record.

I told myself it was okay, because for every pedal stroke I was moving forward. Carebear eventually came by and picked his way through the rocks at the pace I longed to be going. Watching him pull away, I was too delirious to be mad. I was happy for him. All his training was paying off. Perhaps I should take a cue from him and get more serious about my training. After a second I said, Nah.

Sometimes on these long rides, I will take pictures to amuse myself. There was nothing amusing about today, and every time I tried to get to my camera I would risk falling down the side of the trail to my doom. This must have been the one tame "smooth" section of trail. It just doesn't look as bad as it feels.I was really hoping that Mary felt worse than I did. I could hear voices, or could I? Glances down the trail revealed nothing but more rocks and dirt. Keep moving, stay ahead, every second counts. At this rate, there would be nothing for me to do to fend Mary off. I had some pepper spray in my camelbak. No, let's not get irrational.

Finally the top! I could see sweet wonderful Kit, and she didn't have her gun pointed at me!

There was Carebear, Larry, and Travis. Larry and Travis took off before I could get off my bike. Trying to choke down some food, I instantly gagged. Trays of M&Ms and other delights were before me, and I was unable to partake. Kit was busy lubing my drivetrain, and I decided to forget refueling. Thanking her profusely, I hopped on my bike in hopes of catching up to Larry.

Now I had a long 7 mile grind on a gravel road to Potato Patch. There were 2 climbs on this road, I knew it well. I thought I would be elated at having conquered Tibbs, but instead tried to mentally prepare myself for these stupid climbs. With Larry as my carrot, I put my head down in an attempt to close the gap.

For 7 miles, Larry dangled ahead of me, taunting me. Bumfuzzeled that I could not catch him, I was very impressed with his riding. Surely I will get him on the downhill. If I can just get to the dang downhill. Maybe if I smile on the outside, I won't feel so miserable on the inside.

I looked at my time. 4 1/2 hrs had passed. If I had known that Shane was crossing the finish line, I probably would have killed myself. Thankfully I did not know that. Where was Mary? That's what I wanted to know. I could not let my defenses down. It ain't over till it's over, and she can catch me at any moment. I stayed focus. Slow, but focused.

"Whoohoo", I hollered to no one in particular as I approached the turn at Potato Patch. Being so utterly fatigued, I could barely hold onto the bike as it hopped over millions of braker bumps. My teeth began to shake loose, and my hands were throbbing in pain. This downhill was not being savored.

Okay, Bear Creek is next. "There are a few little grunts, but you can do this," I told myself. This is the homestretch, hold on to it."

Larry was long gone and I could not accept the fact that he had escaped my grasp. Little did I know Carebear was trying in the same manner to close in on me. I was too worried about Mary. My hands were killing me. Trying not to focus on the pain, I tried to channel my energy. How do you channel bad energy?

Passing hikers on Bear Creek, I was painfully aware of my ridiculous outfit. I grinned sheepishly and zoomed on by them. The Bear Creek Camp gravel road and 90B gravel road were the only things standing between me and my Treasured Crown! I must behave as royalty and finish this with dignity.

Praying that there would not be a sprint finish with Mary coming from behind, I approached FSR90 from Gates Chapel. With number plate and crown intact, I was crash free and cramp free and closing in on 6 hours.I really wanted to break 6 hours. How could I climb 90 and 90B in 10 minutes? Finding some extra strength just from the thought of being so close to the finish, I made my way up the gravel road. Thinking it was going to be torture, it really was not so bad. But would anybody be there to see my Big Royalness come in for victory? Surely they've all given up and gone home by now to feed the cat and walk the dogs.

Some cars were still in sight as I crested the last climb to the parking area. I heard some faint hootin' and hollers! Yea! My friends were still waiting for me and gave me the royal welcome I had fought for the past 6 hours. But wait a dogone minute!!! What the &$!, there's Mary standing there fresh as a rose. You mean.....I've been running from a ghost this whole time!!!!!!!!

Come to find out, Mary had taken a wrong turn after the P3 sag stop and followed the FW50 course. By the time she figured it out, she decided to cut it short and go back to base camp. I think I knew deep in my heart that something had gone amiss. There's no way I could have cracked her. A little deflated at my false victory, I took satisfaction in knowing I did the whole stinkin' thing anyway! I felt more like the Queen Mother than the Drama Queen. At least I was royalty in some form!

I had to find Larry to congratulate him on his incredible race! With a time of 6:01, he beat my 6:04 fair and square. There is no where during the day that I could have come up with 3 minutes. Awesome, Larry!!!
I was also beholden to Kit for all her incredible support! She did a fantastic job! Things like this cannot happen without good spirited folks like Kit. Thank you:-)

Carebear came in shortly behind me. Having just done the Fools Gold 50 last wkd, I was so impressed with the ride he pulled out today. I could not have done it without his encouragement and company as well! Well done, Carebear!As I regained consciousness, they told me about Shane and all the other hammerheads times. Shane did 53 miles and 7,000' of climbing in 4 1/2 hrs. What a Freakenstein! Super nice guy, but what a freak! I was so honored to reign along side him as King!!!

Raja rolled in with a sad look on his face. The Fisher HiFi had not passed the stringent BDD test on today's epic. Back to the drawing board.

Where was Ony? Surely he was doing the 30? Well, he's not back yet, so that must mean he decided to do the 53. Oh no!!! Only riding for 11 months, Ony had no idea what Windy Gap and Tibbs could dish out. We had done our best to dissuade him without being condescending. It was not that we didn't think he could do it, we just weren't sure it was the right thing to do at this point in time. So far he had been encouraged in his riding progress and we wanted to keep it that way.

As we fretted and wondered (and ate and laughed), another hour and a half passed. Just when we gave up hope, upon the horizon 2 riders emerged.Here came Ony and Mike grinning from ear to ear. Mike had taken Ony under his wing and seen him through the most incredible ride of his life! What Mike did for Ony was simply awesome. That's what I love about mountain bikers. The camaraderie and encouragement.

We were giddy for Ony! As if he had just taken his first steps, we all fussed over him like the firstborn.
I apologized to Ony for doubting his ability and determination, but he said there was no need to apologize as he trusts our advice.
"Many times I heard Roger's words "If you feel any little bit tired, you don't want to go that way...". Many times I told myself "They told me so!", but I thought that you guys would be very disappointed if I went for the whole thing AND did not finish, so I had to finish."

I no longer felt bad when he wrote, "Seriously, this was the hardest physical thing I've done in my life. I do feel a huge sense of accomplishment for doing it. I could not hide how proud I felt of riding all the way back to the parking lot." He even won an honorary mention medal for completing the ride!

So, if I don't race anymore, why do I do such demanding "races"? I guess it's for a new challenge, to see what lies underneath all the fluff and appearance. I like the way Ony put it, "This was a true test and I passed. I think I only passed because I'm too hardheaded to convince myself that I'm done and should quit, but at the same time, deciding to quit wasn't going to make a difference in the middle of Tibbs, so, as with everything else in life, you just keep going."

I like to hang out with folks that will keep on going! Cyclists that are green behind the ears to seasoned expert racers. It brings out the best in you and others.

Well done to all the Drama Queens and Kings!

So for the rest of 2008, I will reign as The Drama Queen. Having decided that the life of royalty is not as easy as it looks, I will gladly crown a new Queen in 2009. I may have raced to be Queen, but I sure felt like the Court Jester whilst doing it!



To see the pictures from my web album, click here.

Even though I am now royalty, I still like to draw my own bath. After Sunday's drama filled day, my legs were again in dire need of an ice bath. But not before taking a warm bubble bath with another new found favorite product. This drama girl is no longer tired and cranky. I'm a happy camper now, cause I was Queen For A Day!

Life on a Bike Turns 1!

On this day one year ago, the first post for Life on a Bike was made! In an effort to stay current with today's technology and mode of communication, I took on the task of a Blog. It did not matter if we agreed with how the tide had turned; Facebook, blogging, texting, and more are how this generation connects. So, if we wanted to stay connected, we thought it prudent to get on the bandwidth before getting too stuck in our ways. I had no idea what a Blog was or what one did with it, but I had to start somewhere.

Change is hard for me. Still living in the town in which I grew up, I cannot go to the grocery store without seeing at least half a dozen familiar faces. I know the UPS & FedEx drivers by name as we wave at each other daily, and on my local rides I pass by 25 homes of families I've known all my life. Having been here on earth almost half my stay, the repetition of doing things the same way over and over makes changing directions midstream uncomfortable. But change is good, not always welcome, but good. I am glad we decided to change.

Other than using the blog as a diary for our 2007 trip to Italy, I had no real direction or goal. A year later, I still have not established a goal, but it has definitely taken on its own direction. In preparation for any cycling trips, we scour the internet for other's trip reports in order to get ideas for places to ride. I suppose part of my underlying goal was to be an inspiration to other adventurers like ourselves in planning their excursions.

Like this time last year, we are getting ready to embark on a new European adventure. Instead of Italy, we will be flying into Zurich to hook up with Becky and Jeff for some Alpine exploring. With no real plan in gear, other than riding in the Gruyere Tour, we hope to spontaneously happen upon serendipitous moments of exciting adventure. Sometimes a blank slate turns out to be the most colorful in the end!

I have to confess that I will enjoy some time off from blogging, as it has become a time consuming outlet. I hope to at least post some pictures every once in a while during our trip, so keep a lookout on my PhotoBlog.

What was I doing a year ago, other than getting ready for our trip? I was riding alot more and in much better shape. Now, I've traded my self discipline of getting up for 7am weekday rides for spending hours uploading pictures and posting. Not necessarily a good change. Hmmm, better re-evaluate some areas.

Through the past year, I have connected through other's blogs and have been motivated. To say that Jeff's race in the Marathon des Sables was inspiring is an understatement. But in reality, I am more along the lines of the 100 Push up Challenge that James brought to my attention in his blog of a Life Less Wimpy.

Only in week two, I do not know how long it will take me to complete the 6 week challenge....8 weeks, 10, 12, a year? I was telling Janusz about this, to make sure he thought it was an okay idea due to all my upper body injuries, and he loved it. Then my balloon was immediately deflated as he recounted that pushups were a part of his training in Germany. "Push ups are the easiest workout because you do not need any equipment, you just do it. Oh yes, we would do 200 a day, sets of 20/30 4 times." I did not bother asking him how many he does now. I don't want to know. Let me be happy with the fact that I can do 10.

Anniversaries in one's life are a chance to pause and reflect on the time passed from where you were to where you are. How have you grown, what have you learned, how are you enriching your life and others? Our progress is measured in inches, bit by bit, probably imperceptible at times. What were we doing ten years ago?

Racing. Learning the discipline of cycling. Establishing a growing labyrinth of friends.

Doing crazy insane races with bad arse teamates like Karen Masson, through snow in June, on legendary retired courses that ended with the big cheque for thousands of smackaroos! Creating memories and learning to stretch ourselves to depths unknown.

We were traveling and exploring new territories that would become our favorite places. Riding on Trek Y bikes and Litespeed Titanium hardtails. One bike at which we now laugh while the other remains tried and true standing the test of time and technology.

Ten years ago I averaged 300 pictures a year, as opposed to my now 300 shots a week. I do not have tons of old riding pictures, and have very few pics of our cycling friends in a non-riding situation. A wave of nostalgia washed over me when I came across this pic of Steve and Anne from 1997. At that time, we had been riding together for almost 10 years. Add on another 10 years later, and they are still dear and instrumental in our lives. Priceless (and I can still fit in that dress 10 yrs later, barely).

We have so many wonderful friends now who enrich our lives that it would take all day to list everyone. Our Life on a Bike would not be what it is without our friends. Thank you!

I do not know what the following year will bring, but I certainly look forward to the new adventures and challenges. Thanks to all who have been a part of our exciting and fun filled Life on a Bike. I appreciate your comments and feedback. Sometimes it gets quiet out there. Just when I begin to wonder if it is worth all the trouble, someone pipes up with an encouraging word. Keep in touch, and keep on riding! A Life on a Bike is a Life Worth Living!
(Crested Butte, Trail 401, July 1998)

As The Wheel Turns.....

Finally, I have figured out how to cash in on Raja's obsessive, compulsive bike demo disorder, or BDD, as referred to in medical terms. Listen to my pitch I'm presenting to the big heads at Fox Talas TV for a new reality series:

"Fox Talas TV is proud to present our newest reality series, As The Wheel Turns. (credit goes to regularjoe for the title) In an effort to reach out to the athletic viewers, our original series, The Bachelor, has been revamped with some new twists. Our single male in search of true love has been replaced with SherpaMan, Raja, in search of The Perfect Bike.

Sequestered deep in the trails of North Georgia, our Sherpaman will be forced to choose one bike from a cast of many. Each week, he will ride and critique a 5" travel mountain bike, eliminating them as they fail stringent tests until there is only one remaining. Will Raja be able to resist eliminating them all? Will he be able to pick one lucky bike with which to spend the rest of his mountain biking days? Will the bikes be able to stand the pressure of his relentless demo rides? Find out the answer to these questions and more on, As The Wheel Turns."

I do not have a technical bone in my body. Therefore, detailed bike geek writing does not come naturally for me. I know ya'll would rather read some in depth analysis, but I just do not have the time to put it in writing the way you want it. There is a line a mile long outside our door of folks wanting to know Raja's thoughts on such n such bike. So before the masses get too out of control I better put up something.

Raja can do alot of things, but his one shortcoming is a lack of typing ability. Coupled with the fact that we rarely have a spare moment together at home with him by my side telling me what to write, I leave the techno talk to Robb and other sites. Therefore, we'll have to settle for the fluffy, touch on the highlights version of "Raja's BDD Test Results".

When reading any assessment of a bike, one must always consider Who the assessor is. A beginner mountain biker will not necessarily be looking for the same thing in a bike that a Professional Downhiller will. Many of you know Raja, but for those of you that do not or have not ridden with him, let me introduce you to our Sherpaman, BDD extraordinaire. Knowing the Judge may influence whether or not his opinions will have sway in your opinion. Much of it is subjective and based on personal wants.

At 5'9", Raja weighs in at 182 with quads that are solid as a rock. He has more of sprinter's build than a boney climber. A few weeks shy of his 48th birthday, a plush riding bike now takes priority over the responsiveness of a hardtail. He may not be as nimble as a 30 year old, but he has decades of experience riding mountain bikes and dirt bikes. Highly regarded and respected by his peers for his excellent skills, he prefers his trails on the skinny twisty side without too many large boulders or drop offs. Hucking comes easier for him on a dirt bike than a mountain bike. His strength is zipping through tight singletrack and bombing fast downhills. He likes to take on steep climbs and can usually clean vertical crap that no one else can. Raja likes long rides of 3 hours plus and he loves to go fast in the singletrack. What is the perfect bike for his riding style and ability?

Ellsworth Epiphany:
Raja had a brief flirtation with the Epiphany, but ownership lasted only a few weeks. It more than exceeded his standards for a plush ride and it climbed well without the need for propedal. However, the long wheel base made it difficult to maneuver as fast as he'd like through the trees on a tight trails. He rode one for a week in Moab and Fruita where the trails are rough but wide open. It was the perfect bike for those conditions, but here in the woods of North Georgia on fast tight singletrack, it did not give him the same satisfaction. Its heavy weight was a real negative, and could really be felt when trying to accelerate.

Titus MotoLite:
Raja just recently rode the MotoLite on the VanMichael trail at Blankets. Very plush ride over the small to medium stuff. Easy to jump and lands well. Light rear end makes it easy to flick around. Climbing is okay, but to get the best out of it you must put it in propedal. Too harsh with the square edge hits. Didn't not like it, but didn't love it. (I am still very pleased with my MotoLite)

Trek EX 9.5 Carbon:
Has ridden the Trek at Big Creek, Bull Mtn, and Pinhoti. Great climber, plush on the downhills, acceptable weight, excellent braking with the fancy brake pivot. Overall great bike, but he just cannot get it to rail through the turns.

Sultan 29r:
Did a Competitive Cyclist Demo with this one. Rode at Pisgah and Big Creek. It rolls beautifully over any obstacle, and is stable on the downhill. Certainly a comfortable ride, but with the larger wheels, too much flex is felt and they are slow to accelerate. Would have to buy high dollar wheels to combat the flex. Biggest turn off for him though is he's not able to quickly change directions in the tight singletrack.

Santa Cruz Blur:
He has not actually demoed a Blur because there have been no opportunities. But the LT is too heavy for his weight test and the XC only accepts a 100mm front fork which won't cut it. Cockpit is too short for his very picky measurements.

Yeti 575:
Very quick and nimble bike. Climbs like a hardtail and rails nicely. But it is heavy and too harsh of a ride. We both rode the Yeti in Fruita and both made the same observations (which is unusual since our styles are different). I cut my demo ride short so I could get back on my MotoLite because the Yeti was beating me to death. However, I bet it would make a good ride for Georgia trails.

Pivot Mach 5:
The Pivot accelerates nicely without the use of propedal. It jumps well and is stable on fast downhills. However, it is slightly harsh for cruising along fire roads, smooth singletrack, and on the rocky rooty downhills. He wasn't thrilled over its weight either. The Pivot was tested at Bull Mtn and the Van Michael Trail.

Ibis Mojo:
This contestant comes close to being the perfect bike if it were not for 2 issues. It climbs well, rails, and is extremely comfy on the descents. But it seems to have an inherent problem of chain suck, which is not acceptable. And when the rear suspension is deep in the travel, the chain rubs the front derailleur. Pedal strikes also seem to be an issue. The cockpit measures in at 22.5 which is a bit too cramped. Testing grounds were Bull Mtn, Big Creek, and Blankets.

Specialized FSR:
He has not tested this to any extent because it doesn't seem to jive with his measurements. Never felt "right" on it.

Which brings us to the Gary Fisher HiFi:
Simply because he wanted a plusher ride than his RacerX for our recent ride at Rich Mtn, he got his hands on the Cycleworks demo HiFi. This bike surprised him! It seemed to check all his boxes; very plush, easy to zip quickly through tight singletrack, corners well, and not too heavy. It needs Propedal to climb well and the chain slaps the underside of the chainstay, but thats about all of the negatives.

He's already called me to report on the price of the HiFi. Who would of seen this coming? Of course, he has not actually purchased a bike, so don't get excited. This time last week, I thought he was going to order a Pivot.

So, you have to stay tuned. Things change on an hourly basis As The Wheel Turns!

Note: As we speak, he's at his "2nd job", as I call it. You wonder how we get money to pay for all our trips? He makes more at this 2nd job than I do at my day job. Analyzing cars and test driving. Researchers are picking his brain right now. If we could just get the bike industry to get in his head like the car industry does.....

Conquering the Beast.....Within

Tackling a challenge in life, whether it is on the bike or otherwise, is the impetus that keeps one fresh, current, strong, and alive. There are certain trails in our repertoire, no matter how many times ridden, that always test and stretch my cycling aptitude.Introduced to these trails in the early nineties, we refer to them as Rich Mtn. Now, many folks call it Stanley Gap, but that's just one of the many "gaps" you climb on this beast of a ride. Accessing the system from the Cherry Log end of North Georgia, or from Aska Rd outside of Blue Ridge, you will find more than your fair share of a climbing fiesta.
Today's ride originated from the Cherry Log end at the game check station off Rock Creek Road. Being the "elders" of the group and stuck in our ways, we insisted on this starting point. That's the way we learned it, so that's the way they must do it. None of this easy warm up stuff off Aska Road. A nice 1 mile climb up a gravel road would bring us to the 3 mile singletrack climb to begin our challenge.The first time Raja and I ever attempted Rich was probably in 1989, and it was pretty pathetic. Sure, the initial climb was harder then than it is today, (thankfully it has been rerouted a bit) but we only made it a couple miles up before bailing. Pretty bad.

Dozens of repeated attempts and many years later, we now manage to do the entire trail. Sometimes it is ugly, sometimes it is fun, but it is never easy. Ever. We have been in various forms of fitness through the years from expert racers to just riding w/the racers, and it still has never been easy.

We have brought along all types of riders from first timers to seasoned veterans, and have been witness to all kinds of results. From bailouts on the first mile, to "show me the quickest way back", and "I'm going to finish this thing" attitudes, we have seen it all.
Rich Mountain has dished out more wild experiences to us than any other trail system we ride. I was hoping today would just be one of the memorable because it was fun rides.

Our cast included Regularjoe, Tweety, Concrete Blonde, and Robb. Each person had had a few encounters with this monster course, with Regularjoe being the most green behind the ears. His first experience here was 5 months prior on a big epic group ride in the snow. It was not a ride he wanted to remember. Today represented something big for him. Would five months of pushing himself, learning and growing as a cyclist be enough to turn the tide in his quest to conquer this beast called Rich Mtn?
Inwardly, we all hoped this would be a day he would not forget. But that was a battle he must learn to fight, for it was not Rich Mtn he was battling today. It is the beast from within you must conquer.

This is all he had to arm himself with before today's ride: "The first time I was there (in March) we only did Stanley Gap and Flat Creek. The ride was 14 miles. it was pure hell. That ride was pretty depressing, but it drove me to realize that if I want to ride in the mountains, I better start learning and riding and pushing myself.

I'll never forget that ride. After that ride, I remember sitting at El Agave in Ellijay and Chocolate Girl asking me about my ride experience that day and gently encouraging me by recalling her experience with that trail some 20 years ago. I also remember saying to Tweety that I thought I could never get stronger riding at Big Creek all the time. He told me to that was B.S. and to do intervals in the freeride area. So I did. I had delusions of being right with my sherpas the entire time."

We began the climb up Stanley Gap with a gentle stride. The ride ahead was long, so a conservative approach would be beneficial. Each wheel click goes round, stroke by stroke, that's how you make a climb. Amazing the progress that can be made when taken inch by inch.

The three mile climb is beautiful. Thick fern covers the ground and glimpses of the mountains can be seen through the trees. But no one is gazing off at the scenery because the climb demands your full attention.
Normally we ride here in the dead of winter through ice and snow. I was enjoying seeing cool features of the flora I do not usually notice.
Raja had scored yet another demo bike for the day. Rich Mtn is not easy on the body, and he wanted all the suspension he could find. The RacerX was not going to cut it here. He was very pleased with what the Fisher had to offer so far. After letting the rear shock absorb the rough roots, all he had to do was flick it back into pro pedal for some more climbing.
This was my MotoLite's first visit to Rich and I was loving it. The Talas is almost as good as a box full of chocolates to me. I dialed it down to 120 for the climb and switched the rear to pro pedal to see what this baby could do. I felt indestructible. The higher bottom bracket has opened up a whole new world to me than the Blur could ever offer. Raja may go through the bikes, but so far I am content with what I have.

At the top of the climb, faces were rather serious. I was a little concerned, and hoping the mood was not going to turn sour. But then the magic word was spoken and smiles began to appear; Downhill!
For all your hardwork climbing at Rich, there are equal amounts of long downhills to reward you. Screaming, fast, technical, flesh ripping, rocky, rooty downhillin'! Whoohoo!
Rich always pushes me to the edge of my comfort zone on the downhill. The price one pays for a crash here is quite high, and I let that sit in the back of my mind. That's not necessarily the beast I want to conquer, but a consideration to take in mind. Raja has no issues here, of course, and he was chomping at the bit to take the lead.

Robb, Tweety, and CB live for that stuff too. I did my best to stay on somebody's wheel as long as I could before my eyes began to shake out of their sockets. Once you talk yourself through it.....relax, look ahead, weight back....it is alot of fun.

Racey Tracey is the huckster supreme, and my little point and shoot could not keep up with her. When I grow up, I want to be like her!

No time for daydreaming though. That downhill ended and we crossed Aska Rd to climb Green Mtn and head down down down to Lake Blue Ridge. With the thrill of the 2nd downhill fresh in our minds, we turned around to climb back up what we just came down. Regularjoe was fighting a major battle. Who was going to win?

I knew he could do it, and I did not mean that flippantly. The past few rides we had done together showed he had the endurance and stamina, but this was a different beast from anything else he'd done. I wanted him to want it, to taste it, to own it.

Other than hearing him say he thought he was bonking and us encouraging him, we didn't exactly sit down and have share your feelings time. I know bonking, and he was not bonking. Trying to kindly let him know he was doing better than he realized, I could only hope the truth would win out over the screaming demons. I knew all to well about the battle going on inside his head, but was not privy to all his thoughts:

"Coming back up out of there was tough and I started to get really nervous. I was tiring fast and I was starving. When I tried to eat I felt like I wanted to puke. I was afraid I was on the verge of bonking and I couldn't stop thinking that we still had to go back over Stanley. The part that killed me last time. Dammit. Again, I was encouraged by chocolate girl's gentle brand of tough love, Tweety's no nonsense coaching, RSutton's positivity and Concrete Blonde gently giving me tips from behind as we climbed......"

As the battle raged within us all, we climbed up to the intersection of Long Branch Trail for a well deserved reward of downhill that dumped out onto Aska Road. See! I did do some road riding afterall!

It is not a bad grind a mile or so up to the Aska pkg lot. Everyone was riding sensibly and keeping their heart rates in check. We still had 2 more major climbs to go after this. I was proud of the Pain Train. All engines accounted for...onward we go.
Our group was a little too sensible today.
Janusz would have been so proud.Okay, enough. I cracked the whip. Let's get a move on. You know how impatient I can get.We climbed up towards the Flat Creek Loop, passing the cut off to take you back to the car. Tweety gave Regularjoe the option to take it, but Joe would have none of that. I was so glad. I could tell, he was going to win this battle. For me, that was his turning point.

We carried on. My bike started making this horrible popping noise, but I could not figure out what it was. Neither could my sherpa. Oh well, must not be too bad. Everything checks out tight. I'll keep riding.

Down the Flat Creek downhill we went with Racey Tracey going at warp speed. Geez Louise, that girl can fly! They all can. Riding with these guys (and gal) was forcing me to push myself. I needed that.
I love the climb out of Flat Creek and middle ringed it to see if I could do it. My legs almost felt stronger as the day went by. Rich never ceases to serve up surprises.

But the sunny side up could not yet be had and our victory was not yet won. The hardest climb was looming ahead as we still had to get back up and over Stanley Gap.
Keeping the grumbling to a minimum, we each picked our way up through steep pitches,
and rocky, loose, rooty terrain.Unless you are riding with cyclists of all equally matched abilities, it is hard to climb together. I prefer to find my own rhythm, enter my zone, and ride away in oblivion to the rest of the world. I could not help but wonder how Regularjoe was doing. This last climb is a Beast with all the miles of effort in your legs, and it takes every ounce of mental energy one can muster. "Please Joe, fight to win," I thought.

He was: "At this point, I wanted to quit and I was scared of the climb back over Stanley. I had a gel, some salt caps, and got a snack to nibble on as well. This is where I would lose my sherpas as they did their thing and I did mine. They waited to give me back a bottle I had lost and I saw chocolate girl, giving a little check after she had taken some photos. I began to feel bad, as I did not want to make them wait on me."

"I didn't see them again until the top of the false summit. I started to get that feeling of never getting off the mountain. I wanted to get off my bike and sleep. I could no longer climb at 90% or more heart rate, so I had to stop a couple times and I walked 4 or 5 steep sections. I was walking as I could see Concrete Blond's blue shirt and pink helmet. This was the false summit. Holy s&%t! I made it and rode most of it! Much better than last time. I walked probably about a half-mile. Last time I walked about 3. I went from being discouraged to encouraged."

With Joe rejuvenated as he relished in his victory, we watched as Spider Rodge inspired us all to tackle the last really tough climb (doesn't appear on film to be the steep wall that it really is).More battles can be won when you join forces with fellow believers. Through encouragement and example the beast within seems to lose its power over you.But there was another beast roaming about, one inside my hub making an awful racket by now. But Tweety said I did not have to be afraid. Just put it in the bigxsmall and keep pedaling. "Have you ever ridden a fixie before?" No! "Well, you're getting ready to. Just remember to keep pedaling."

So that's what happens when your bearings go a wandering! Poor free hub just couldn't stay straight and was all buggered up.

Have you ever tried to pedal on a downhill? A steep, rocky, rooty, 3 mile long downhill? Kinda tricky, if not downright impossible. Thank goodness the real downhillers did not have to be concerned with that.
It was a challenge to say the least, but it could have been so much worse. I did not have to walk it out, no injury was involved, and Regularjoe did not have to feel like he was bringing up the rear!

3 flats, a bum hub, a busted elbow, and 2 bee stings later, we emerged from our 4 hour tour. We all had conquered this ride and had plenty of which to boast. 27.9 miles and 4,800' of climbing.
I was very proud of our cast, especially Regularjoe! He passed a milestone on his cycling growth chart. He dug deep, used his head, rode smart, and stretched himself further than he ever has before on a ride.

He could now go home with positive thoughts of being a conquerer instead of defeat. "I had struggled, but I had made it up the section I had been scared of all day long. It was a challenge for sure, but I made it."

We all conquered the beast within today. The beast that says to quit, you're no good, you have no business doing this, you'll never get any better. It is easy to entertain those thoughts, and harder to shut them up. The battle may be within, but the help comes from without, fellow cyclists fighting the same battle. Victory is sweeter amongst friends than in the solitude of your mind.

Now Joe says, "I'm looking forward to going back." That's what I like to hear. A sure victory.

Well done, my friends! Well done.