Life on a Bike

Never Too Young or Old to Ride a Bike!

2012-01-07T19:26:00.015-05:00

The beauty of mountain biking is that it crosses so many borders to connect generations and people from different walks of life. It was never more evident than on today's ride. What began as a celebratory ride for the birthdays of a few friends grew into a poignant reminder of why we ride. We may be getting older, but riding keeps us young in heart and attitude. Riding makes you feel like a kid again!

Whether you're 40, 50, 60, or 6, you can have fun riding your bike. A significant number of us seem to be hitting the halfway mark of our lives. Perhaps that is why the birthday ride is all the more important. Just because we're getting older doesn't mean we have to stop having fun and doing the things we love. When our groups get together to ride it is not just about the riding. It's more than that. It's about laughing and having fun and enjoying being able to move! Our bodies may be getting a little creakier, but in our minds we're still kids at heart that just want to have fun in the woods on our bikes.
I see more youngsters now on bikes than ever before and this brings a huge smile to my heart. How cool to have their passion nurtured and their talents molded in a positive and creative way. Anytime you go to Blankets Creek trail system you will see a slew of young kids. The future of mountain biking is definitely secure, at least in Georgia.

Some of our roadie friends have been training their kids on the road bikes for years and I've always admired them for the time and dedication it must take. Imagine my surprise this morning when I saw them on the dirt trails! At first it didn't compute in my mind that it could be them since I am only used to seeing them on road rides.

MarkO and Big Mike had a whole brood of kids ranging from what looked to be 6 years old to 14 all ready to tear it up on the trails. These kids weren't just playing around in the dirt, but were hitting the big trails and giving it all they had. They did what we did, rocks, roots, climbs, and downhills all with gusto and can do attitudes.

Watching Mark and Mike get in the mix and ride with the kids impressed the socks off me. This was Mark's 2nd time on dirt so he was having to learn along with the kids. Picking up mountain biking as an adult is not the easiest thing to do, and I admire his dedication to engage in his children's lives in such a manner.
Big Mike had a little tyke that we guessed to be 6 yrs old and that little fella wouldn't give up. Mike didn't give him any handouts either and urged him anytime he fell down, "get back up, hurry up, we're not stopping." We were all inspired to see this little guy giving it all he had to pedal up the climbs. I'm not sure who was more psyched, him or us.

Mark's girl, Annalise, looked every bit the pro in the Fulton Flyers team kit. It made me want to join the team so I could get a jersey too. When I see her on the road she has a fearless attitude. She had that same no-fear face here on the trails. If she takes to mountain biking, she's going to be a force with which to contend!
I absolutely love our mixed group of cycling friends. Here on a birthday ride for a 39 and 50 year old we also had a high schooler with us, Connor. Connor is a regular on our groups rides, as is his Dad, Mark, and he fits in with our crazy crew perfectly. I often forget Connor is a teenager, and I think it's cool that he blends right in with this bunch of ole' geezers. There's not many teenagers with which I can have a coherent conversation. Connor breaks the typical stereotype. He's great fun to ride with and it is always a pleasure to be with him. We share the same passion for mountain biking, it's the great equalizer. The list of women that celebrate their 50th birthday by mountain biking is probably pretty slim. I am honored to ride with women that choose that lifestyle! I'm guessing Robin will have a hard time convincing people she is 50, especially if she uses this for her picture ID. With that grin on her face she looks every bit the kid (even though she has 2 kids of her own). Paula celebrated her 39th on New Year's Day! A mother of five, yep, 5, and still ripping up the trails on a singlespeed no less. Way cool.The aches and pains linger a little longer now than 20 years ago. We don't hop back up as quickly from the occasional crash, but dang it, we're riding our bikes! We're not going to stop until, well, we're not going to stop. We're not too old to ride and those kids aren't too young to start. Just ride! You might just break out in a smile and feel like a kid again.

Ride out the Old and Ride in the New

2012-01-01T18:38:00.014-05:00

As long as I can remember, Raja and I have almost always started a New Year with a bike ride. It is a ritual I have come to cherish and cannot imagine bringing in a new year any other way. I love reflecting back on the different January 1st rides we have done. They have been in so many varying places, mountain bike, road bike, rain, snow, freezing temperatures, warm sunny days, all of course with a wealth of friends from our huge cycling family. After 24 years a family can get pretty big.

The weather this time of year is obviously touch and go, so we're not always fortunate enough to get in a ride on both Dec 31st and Jan 1st. Since cycling defines my life, I like the idea of ending the year with a ride and ushering in the new on the bike as well. This time we were lucky. Raja wanted to try out the trails of White Oak in Tennessee, so we headed north and met up with regularjoe for our last ride of the year.

The ride was of great significance to Joe because it marked a milestone in mileage for his year. He manages to juggle fatherhood and family, career, and riding all in a healthy and productive way. He has also managed to assimilate Raja's skills rather successfully and we have all watched Joe grow by leaps and bounds as a cyclist.

The White Oak trails delivered nicely for us. The smooth singletrack had good flow and most importantly there were helpful maps at every intersection. There was plenty of climbing enabling us to get a good workout. From the looks of it, there are still plenty more trails being built making it worth the 1.5 hr drive.While we feel the flow of extended downhills are best at the Five Points trail system , these Tennessee trails offer plenty of opportunity for a fun and challenging ride. Case in point; the White Oak Ridge trail (yellow markings) is like an exact replica of The Snake trail. If you did not know any better you would think you had linked into The Snake. Rocky and technical, it will test your skills for sure! Too busy trying to keep up with the guys, I did not have much time to get a good pic representative of that section, but hopefully you get the idea.At a moderate pace, we did all the trails in 2 hours (with a few bits being repeated) and clocked 15 miles. Joe and I were content with the 2 hours and happy to call it day while Raja wanted more. Much to his dismay I wanted to save some energy for the next day's ride and talked him into calling it quits. However, we could have easily gone out for another hour and not been bored. The loops are big enough that you could do them in different directions to keep it fresh. The White Oak trails were a pleasant surprise and have much to offer every class of mountain biker from beginner to racer. The trails are deceptive and you will find yourself climbing more than you realize. The ups and downs make you work, but the descents leave you wanting to go back for more. All in all, we were happy with our choice to check out White Oak and heartily recommend you do likewise!
I have not been riding much at all the past 3 weeks and as a result my cycling performance has been lacking. Winter is always a tough time for me as I lose my motivation, eat too much, and go into hibernation. This winter has been a rough start, but I was determined to end 2011 on a positive note. While the ride with Raja and Joe had left me exhausted, I was not going to give in on my waning fitness. I was going to do a New Year's Day ride whether I felt like it or not. It's what we've done for over 20 years, and feeling lame was not a valid reason to give up a good thing. Besides, if I fought my way through this haze, maybe it could represent starting the New Year with a winning spirit. How poetic that our ride began in the thick morning fog! We awoke to the sound of rain this morning, and Raja questioned our decision to head to the mountains. Waiting to hear the verdict from our friends, I almost didn't care what the weather was going to do. I wanted to start this day riding my bike because I had something to prove. Rex phoned with their decision. Michael had said weather be damned, they're going to Mulberry Gap come rain or shine. Good, we packed up the bikes and headed north again.

In spite of the weather, about 40 people showed at Mulberry Gap, and I took comfort in seeing my fellow cycling friends. Some were new acquaintances I'd only known for a year while others, like Mike, were friends we've ridden with since 1988. I like that. I think it's cool to know so many many many different people in the riding community, and I want the list to keep on growing.
The conditions were not the greatest, but heck, I've suffered through much worse. It wasn't freezing cold and that counts for a lot in my book. Whatever, I was riding my bike. I may not have been fast, but it did not really matter. One thing I've come realize through all these years in the up and down ebb of riding is that you cannot measure your happiness through performance. You enjoy your ride because you can ride. You enjoy the people with which you are surrounded. You make it through the tough conditions and you savor the glorious moments because in the end it's all a big tapestry of memories.

Riding should make you smile. Sometimes the conditions are less than optimal for smiling. You can still smile. As our Swiss Camp mantra goes; climb climb climb, happy happy happy. It's your choice!It rained, we got wet, our bikes got muddy, and we got muddier. I'm still glad we rode. Starting the first day of the Year on my bike is always a good thing. It has to be a sign of good things to come. Besides, maybe we got our nasty ride for the year out of the way. The rest has to be all roses and sunshine, right?!!!

Good friends, old and new, riding out the old year and riding in the new. Hey New Year, here we come, what do you have in store?!!! Happy Trails and Happy New Year, Ya'll!

Fun and Games

2011-11-26T20:28:00.014-05:00

I've never been much for playing games like Scrabble, Uno, Chutes and Ladders, but when it comes to cycling..........well, that's another story. I'm all about fun and games when on the bike. Perhaps that's why I never took to racing and hung my number up years ago. It was too much game and not enough fun for me. This holiday weekend, we had the chance to have some fun on our bikes with a bit of game thrown in for good measure. Mulberry Gap hosted a Turkey Shuffle ride the Saturday after Thanksgiving and the concept peaked our interest.

Everybody knows when you get a group of cyclists together and give them a list of rules and a time frame, then it's a race. No race fee, no number plate, no course markings, deny it is a race all you want, but it's not going to change the heart of the cyclist. Throw us a challenge and the game is on! These are the kind of "races" I like, because it is truly all about having fun while pushing yourself as hard or light as you want.

We had just under 5 hours to cover as much territory as possible. We were given a map of the area trails with places of interest marked. The goal was to reach as many marked areas as possible accumulating points for each landmark visited. Knowledge of the trail system was invaluable, because a bit of strategy would help to hit as many points as you could. Harder to reach spots held a higher point value than the easier ones and a photo of you or your bike at each spot was proof "you were there". Riders had to finish by 3:00 or points would be deducted for each minute arrived after the deadline. For every point accumulated, you received a raffle ticket. Riders could choose between about a dozen prize baskets to deposit their raffle tickets, therefore, the more tickets you had the better your chances to win the raffle.

With maps in hand (I forgot mine), we hit the trails at 10:15. Not everyone had the same strategy, but the majority of us all headed up the same forest service road. We were getting the nitty gritty climb out of the way acquiring little points along the way en route to a 5 pointer at the top of Potato Patch. Then we bombed back down the road to hit the fun trails like Bear Creek and Pinhoti!

My friends, Martina and Leandro, were visiting from Florida for the weekend and came along for a mtn bike ride. Since they didn't know these trails, I offered to be their guide to make sure they would hit all the right designated spots! Realizing I had forgotten the "treasure map" after we'd already started the "non-race", I felt a bit daft. Raja and Joe were still up ahead in range, so I bolted ahead to plead for a look see at their map. Riding and reading the map at the same time proved a challenge, but I managed to key in on our targets. Now, if I could just manage to remember it..........

I felt a bit like a tourist as we stopped at places and took each other's pictures. It was fun! Of course, it would not do for Martina to simply stand and have her photo taken. Before I could finish documenting Leandro's points, Martina would already be scaling the Falls or climbing up on the sign. She's more like a monkey than a cyclist.

"Come along, Martina," I would yell, "We've got to keep moving!" I could see this was going to be Fun and Games in more way than one. Stopping at the Falls was a pleasant change from riding on by like we normally do. Usually we're on a mission to get to the top as fast as we can. It reminds me that it is good to take the time to notice your surroundings, even when it is a place you have been seeing for decades. There is always something new to notice or appreciate. You just have to take the time.

Each time we would get to a "point" there would be various groups or pairs of riders there taking their picture. We'd cheer each other on and counsel if this was the right spot. For the first few points, Raja and Joe would have just finished taking their pictures when we arrived and be heading off to the next point. We waved them on, knowing that once the downhills came we would not see them again.

As laborious as a forest service road climb can be, this one isn't too terribly awful. It's pretty enough and you can easily see your progress when you look at the road below you.There were heartier racers that were going for the points over towards Windy Gap, but not us. We stuck to our plan doing the long road climb first knowing that we had a sweet descent awaiting. After that it was lots of nice singletrack on the Pinhoti trails. Once we got up to the overlook, I knew Martina would be smiling. As long as she can see mountains, she is a happy camper. No, it's no Switzerland, but we do have mountains here in Georgia. In fact, Mulberry Gap is gaining popularity with many out of state mtn bikers as a great riding destination. When you have some of the sweetest singletrack out your backdoor, it's easy to take it for granted. I forget that not everyone has this at their fingertips. Yes, we have mountains and we have singletrack. It will make you smile.
This Thanksgiving has brought us unseasonably nice weather. Thanksgiving Day was bright and sunny. Yesterday we did a wonderful 55 mile road ride under clear blue skies with the sun warming us nicely. Today was cloudy, but it wasn't bone chilling cold and I rode in a short sleeve jersey and arm warmers. No chemical toe warmers or woolies. Old man winter hasn't come yet, and I'd just as well he not. Riding through creeks is much easier without him.

The antics continued with Martina insisting we hug the Gennett Poplar.And see what I mean.....notice she's climbing on top of the sign here behind Leandro! It's a wonder we ever finished the ride with monkey girl climbing all over the place.

I always love taking someone to ride the Pinhoti 2 downhill. It's such a FUN run and you are guaranteed to see the newbie come out of the trail with a huge grin on their face. This was no exception, and Leandro ended the section beaming as he said, "Those jumps are so much fun!"

Technically we still had enough time to shoot for the 5 pointer on Hwy 52, but we decided not to push it. Instead, we pedaled a few miles up Pinhoti 3 because I did not want Leandro to miss seeing more of our fantastic trails. We ran into Carey as she was coming down P3. She had successfully reached the 5 pointer up at the top and was heading to the finish. "You think you're going to make it," she asked me? "Nah, we're not going to risk it, but we figured we'd at least ride this while we're here," I replied. "Yea, it's too good to pass up, isn't it," she said as she grinned ear to ear. Yep, that pretty much sums it up!!!

With just over 3 hrs riding, we rolled into Mulberry Gap eager to show our photos to the "non-race" official. With 7 of the landmarks attained, we were like giddy kids to have earned 20 points, that's 20 raffle tickets! Whoohoo! Pouring over the multitude of prize selections, I hopefully placed tickets in the bowl keeping fingers crossed that I would be a winner.

Hungry riders trickled in the Rec Room, turning in their photos and collecting tickets. Other riders sat hunched over steaming hot bowls of chili shoveling the food in fast as they could. Ginni at Mulberry takes her role seriously of feeding the hungry masses and she understands a ravenous cyclist! With all riders present and accounted for, the raffle began. Hoots and hollers rang out with the winning numbers, but nobody was happier than when #660714 was called. That was ME! I won! I won a session with Rolfer, Amy Lynn Larimer! To say I as excited would be an understatement!

What a good day! It was all fun and games to be had while riding a bike. I'm pretty simple, that's all it takes to make me a happy girl. I hope you're having as much fun out on the trails as well. Keep in touch and let me know what fun and games you've been up to this season! Whatever you do, keep on riding!

A Special Jersey

2011-10-20T11:07:00.008-04:00

In my closet hangs a jersey that has always been near and dear to my heart. A friend, John Kovachi, was opening his bike shop and I offered to help setting up shop. As a token of appreciation I received one of his jerseys. Through the years that Kovachi jersey has always been one of my favorites and now with the passing of John it has become even more special to me.

John was, in my opinion, the best wheel builder in the nation. If you rode a Kovachi wheel, you never had to worry if it would stay in true or if it would make it through the season. They were solid as gold and true as the day is long.

This week the nation and cycling community lost a real treasure, but John did not leave this world without leaving an indelible mark. Wherever he went, his reputation preceded him.

In 1996 as Atlanta prepared for the Olympics, I was part of a group rehearsing for our part in the closing ceremonies. There was a young boy in my group with which I could never seem to break the ice. Often I would commute to the rehearsals by bike and one day I chose to wear my Kovachi jersey there. The bright colors made me visible to cars and I wanted to do everything possible to be seen by motorists.

I'll never forget the look on that boy's face when I showed up in a Kovachi jersey. His cold look melted and I overheard him say to someone else, "she really is a mountain biker." From that day on we were friendly and I earned credibility in his eyes. That's the John Kovachi reputation.

I count myself fortunate to have been a part of the Atlanta cycling community in its beginnings. Because the sport has grown exponentially in size over the past 3 decades, there is now a dizzying array of groups from which one can choose to be a part. Back then we all grew up in the sport together as one big happy family. When John found himself in need of a heart transplant, Rick Lang spearheaded a group ride to raise money for the medical expenses. Considering that was pre-email days, we still managed to get the word out and have a big turnout. I think we did the Silk Sheets route, parking at a Subway pkg lot right off Fulton Industrial.

Fast forward a decade and we were talking to John (with his new heart) at a friend's wedding. He recounted the stories of "living in the hospital" waiting for his transplant. They would tote wheels into the hospital room and do business from there. Nothing could keep him from is passion.

It had been a long while since seeing John as of late. A couple months ago I took him some wheels to work on for us. That visit weighed heavy on my heart and touched me in a way I can't really explain. When Roger came home that night, I told him about our visit and we talked about John, about his incredible talent, his struggles, and the 'good ole days'. As the weeks passed I found myself thinking about my brief time with John, and then Roger told me he was at Emory for kidney failure. My heart sank and I thought to myself, "I need to go pay him a visit."

It felt like the breath had been knocked out of me when I got the news the next day that John had passed away. I've pondered our visit and cherish that last chance to talk with him. It wasn't the empty chatter or pompous words that often come when chatting with someone in the business. We simply talked as friends relating to each other through recent challenges and struggles in life. There was a raw vulnerability to the moment.

What struck me the most was literally watching John as he held each wheel. It was as though the wheel became an extension of himself. He had a communication between the wheel that not many people possess. Just observing him you could see it, it was palpable. I am not embellishing or making him grander than he was, but he genuinely had a special gift and he used it.

John took that gift and passion and made it his life's work. Despite the tremendous hurdles life threw him, he did not allow them to stop him. A lesser man would have used these challenges as an excuse to not work. We as a cycling community are fortunate John chose to pursue his gift.

Often when we lose someone in our life and community, you think of the things you wish you had taken the time to share with them. You want that one more chance to say Thank You. I take comfort in the fact that I got that chance. Not thinking that was the last time I would see John, I simply wanted to voice my appreciation of his artistry.

John Kovachi's life was too short, but he left a mark that will not die. We were blessed to have had the world's best wheel builder right in here in our backyard. A cyclist, an artist, and a true master at his craft, Kovachi you will be missed. I have your jersey and will wear it with pride.

Georgia's Newest Gem

2011-10-08T20:11:00.011-04:00

Trail building in Georgia is at an all time high as of late, thanks to IMBA, SORBA, generous Land Trusts, and countless hardworking volunteers. Barry Smith is one of those invaluable workers that has poured his life into mountain bike trails the past 15 years (maybe longer, that's just when I first met him). Yesterday was the grand opening of his latest baby, the Five Points Trail System of the Cloudland Canyon Connector Trail.

Tucked up in the northwest corner of Georgia, a stone's throw from the Tennessee border off State Route 157, you will find a small parking lot. The yellow gate sports a fancy sign stating your arrival at the Five Points trailhead. A changing area, sign pavilion and fancy wooden restroom are on the perimeter of the gravel lot that probably can only accommodate 15 cars at the most. There are envelopes and box for you to deposit the $5 parking fee. A larger parking lot is not far away off Ascalon Road, and the two are easily accessed via the trail as well.

Barry generously offered to be our tour guide for the day. The trails looked to be a complex labyrinth that would easily turn into a guessing game for us of where to go and how did we get here. With Barry as our guide, we were free to enjoy the ride and hopefully learn the different loops enough so that we could come back on our own without getting hopelessly lost.

We first met Barry in the mid 90s and was not only impressed with his kind and gentle spirit, but his incredible riding abilities. Nobody can descend like Barry, and when he's on, he's on fire. That passion for cycling is easily seen in the trail systems he has designed. The Tanasi trails were my first introduction to his insatiable appetite for trail building.

I'll never forget riding with him on the freshly cut trails of Tanasi as he talked about crawling around through the brush scouting out the place. That's dedication. That same dedication is quite evident at Five Points.
Thanks to the generosity and philanthropy of the Davenport family, the Lula Lake Land trust was developed and thousands of acres of land are now available for trail development. The trails are part new cut and part existing old trails from the 30's and 40's. The land was used for mining and acres of coal tailing's make for fun and thrilling mini ridge trails. There are 2 different tailing trails, one connects the two parking lots and the other runs off from the other direction of the Five Points parking lot. More like a roller coaster for mtn bikes, the tailing trails are classified as intermediate to advanced. While I didn't find them difficult, a beginner could easily be intimidated by the narrowness and uneasiness of being on the edge. Speed is key in this area, but you have to be alert lest you get a little too enthusiastic and go over a ridge.

All the trails lead to the Five Points intersection (not to be confused with the Five Points trail head pkg lot). It feels like there are a dozen trail heads at the intersection and you are bound to always come upon other riders here as everyone talks enthusiastically over the trail they just rode. I was pleasantly surprised upon exploring these trails. I did not get bored or feel like I was riding in circles. Each loop has it's own flavor. There are plenty of long sustained climbs and fun downhills. Some of the downhills are long and fast, some have switchbacks, some have jumps, but they all have good flow! There's swoop, and twist, and even the token rocky areas thrown in for good measure.

I didn't really have a favorite. Each trail was fun in its own way, each one made me smile! This is the perfect time of year to be on the trails. The air is crisp and the leaves are starting to change color. It could not have been a more perfect day! I could not help but notice what looked to me to be a number of Native American Trail (Pointer trees) Trees; trees that were modified by Native Americans to point the way to something of significance like a trail or water supply. The saplings were given a unique bend that pointed in the direction of interest. Whether or not these were indeed such trees, I did notice at least half a dozen of them at various points of the trail system.
Within the Five Points trail system we did about 20 miles with very little doubling back on ourselves. One can easily get in a good 2 hour ride without repeating any of the trails. We also added on some time by picking up the Cloudland Canyon Connector trail near the intersection of Tailings Run and Peace Can. This becomes Long Branch trail and goes about 7 miles to Nickajack Rd. Since we were running low on water, we only went out on Long Branch about 3 miles. What we saw was very nice, with plenty of climbing and descending. Next time we'll bring more supplies and go the distance. All in all we ended up with 27 miles in just over 3 hrs and loved every minute of it.Chattanooga was an easy 30 minute drive from the parking lot (you can literally get to Mojo Burrito in 20 min). That means you can make a fantastic weekend of riding up there by doing Five Points one day, Enterprise in the afternoon, and Raccoon Mtn the next day. The drive to Five Points from the metro Atlanta area took 1 hr 45 min. These trails are definitely worth the trip.

Yep, Georgia has a new hidden gem. Check it out soon! Don't forget to support IMBA SORBA that helps to make this all possible. And, if you see a nice guy riding a Merlin 4.0, stop and shake his hand. Thank you, Barry!

Stoked

2011-08-23T20:44:00.026-04:00

What led me to make that fateful decision, to utter those words, I do not know. Caught up in the moment, infatuated with the intrigue, and a momentary loss of sensibility, I said it. "Oooo, Chris, can we ride the tandem together?!" The deed had been done, there was no taking the statement back. Without a second thought, Chris replied, "Sure, if that's what you want to do."

Did I really want to ride a tandem? Me? Control freak extraordinaire! Too embarrassed to go back on my word, I numbly agreed to whatever bike adjustments Chris suggested in preparation for our virgin voyage. Stepping out into the crisp cool night air, I let out an audible sigh. What in the world have I done? Guess I will find out tomorrow.

Our scheduled ride was the Col du Sanetsch and Col du Pillon, starting from Sion and ending in Aigle. Without the usual rider's meeting to clue me in on statistics, road surface conditions, and what happens after the inevitable gallery, we were blind sheep following our master. I was literally attached to the leader and would follow wherever however he led.

Kate had recently been baptised in the tandem pool and offered up crucial advice. Sit on the back like a sack of potatoes and don't do anything. Don't lean, don't move around, just sit there. Hmmm, don't do anything? This is going to be much harder than I anticipated.

Chris and his wife, Heather, make a superb tandem team. I have ridden quite a few epic routes along side them and seen first hand the power and speed this dynamic duo can dish out. The two of them made it look effortless, but that's how it works with a good athlete. They make the difficult and challenging look like the most natural thing in the world. Chris can climb anything whether he's on a tandem or a 50 lb clunker. Secretly I wanted to tap into that power band and figured being his stoker would be my only chance.

Our group consisted of me and Chris, of course, and 2 others; Kate and Warren. One small thing of note, this was Warren's first encounter with a road bike and first ever mountain pass and he was my ward. Instead of me riding alongside to show him the ropes and hand out helpful tidbits, I would be dealing with my own first time of learning to ride a tandem. How could I have been so stupid not to think of this before I opened my big mouth? Here I was supposed to be watching out after him making sure he didn't get a scratch, and now I'd be rendered helpless to take care of him whatsoever.

I begged Kate to keep an eye on him for me. Tell him what to do! As a seasoned cyclist, it's so easy to forget the simple things that must be learned. Somebody has gotta tell him how to draft, hold your line, how to shift, how to spin, how to pace, remember to drink, take in the calories......all the basics we take for granted. In retrospect, it was a godsend for both our sakes that I was no longer the Chaperon. I worry obsessively when Warren gets on a bike and would have driven him mad with incessant chatter, commands, and advice to follow. No, this was the best thing that could have happened to us both.

I have the utmost respect for tandem riders and realize it's not an easy feat. However, until you walk in someone else's shoes, or, in this case, ride, you cannot fully appreciate or comprehend exactly what they must endure. This was my moment to taste a slice of humble pie and learn first hand what it takes.

A tandem has 2 riders, obviously, though Chris has been known to ride the tandem solo. The cyclist in the front position is referred to as the Captain with the rider in back called the Stoker. To be the Captain requires far more coordination and wits than I could ever muster, and honestly I was more than happy to relinquish control and be a quiet, submissive, obedient Stoker. Just as you don't need 2 cooks in the kitchen, you really can't have 2 Captains on one bike. It just doesn't work that way.

I would never jump on a tandem with just anybody. Chris is one of the few persons I feel completely secure in placing all my trust, and that's what you have to do. You have to trust your Captain 101% or it's going to be a long ugly ride. Early the next morning I clipped in to the pretty red steed and yielded all power and control to my Captain. Let the adventure begin.

Five minutes later I was ready to abort the entire mission. Trust or no trust, I was scared out of my mind. Where was the eject button?! Agh! This seat had no controls. There was no eject button!

Our ride had not officially started, we were simply riding down to the rail station to catch the train to get to the ride start in Sion. However, that 10 minute dash was a horrific eye opening experience that had me questioning whether I would survive the day. Chris knew this route like the back of his hand. Seconds counted as we had barely a minute to spare to catch our train. He whizzed along with the traffic through the twists and turns trying to make the green lights all with complete control, but to me it seemed like a chaotic suicidal end to my otherwise blissful life.

My heart was pounding out of my chest and I wanted to scream at every lean of the bike. Our speed was that of a bullet train, or so it felt, and my head started spinning as my brain synapses overloaded sending out conflicting urgent messages. "You're going to die, don't move, don't do anything, scream, make him stop, slow down, be still, don't move a muscle, dear lawd I want to get off, make it stop!" Any minute now I was going to hyperventilate, but I knew I couldn't afford to do so lest it disrupt my Captain.

Then the real panic set in; Oh, dear gawd, what about Warren!!!! Was he even with us?! Had he been able to stay on our wheel and avoid getting hit. I couldn't dare turn around to check. I muttered a desperate prayer, "dear God please take care of him! Let us get to the station in one piece!"

Barely making it to the station in time, there was no time to catch my breath. I asked hysterically, "Is Warren with us?" Yes, he was. Quickly we had to dismount, but wait, there's a certain procedure for that. I couldn't remember what to do. Chris calmly but firmly stated my instructions. Wait for him to unclip first and give the signal, okay, now I can move. I couldn't move, I was frozen with fear. Adrenaline rushing through my body, I came to my senses and got off the bike. We muscled our way through the crowd of people with Chris carrying the load. I was in a stupor and followed him. Buy the tickets, agh, we had to buy a ticket for Warren's bike. With my hands shaking I pushed the buttons on the machine, grabbed the tickets and ran toward the platform.

Chris had to disassemble the bike in order to get in on the train. Calm cool and collected, he could do the procedure in his sleep. Wrench out to unscrew the couplings, unhook the cables, you hold the front, he's got the back. Now, get on the train and find a hook for whatever piece of the pie you have. Easy as one two three, yea, right, he makes it look easy. If it was left to me, we'd still be there on the platform trying to sort it all out. I'm so happy he's the Captain.

I collapse in a seat and try to collect myself! Holy cow! This was nothing at all like I thought it would be. Not at all. Just breathe. I had at least 40 minutes to get myself together and have a little pep talk. You can do this. You can trust Chris, he's not going to kill us. At least we start out with a 3 hr climb. Surely the climbs won't be as terrifying as the downhill. Surely.

There were so many little things I didn't think of that had to be considered. For instance, you don't just coast whenever you please. You don't stand up or re-position your bored bum on a whim. You cannot slow down when you want, even when you want to take a picture. Uh oh. That's my usual MO for snagging all my photos on a ride. The downhills usually have the best panorama, so I get to the back of the pack, slow down, snap away, then catch back up to the group. Not going to be any of that today. I also coast when I take a picture; helps eliminate blur. Won't be taking as many pics as I thought I would. Here I thought being a stoker meant I could snap away all day long without a care in the world. Think again.

Riding a tandem is about communication. I had to listen for any commands he gave. I had to be alert and know when he was going to coast or need to shift. If he took a drink of water, I had to be on my post and not be taking pictures, otherwise, there would be no one steering our ship. Being a stoker is not the absent minded law-de-daw position people make it out to be! This requires a good bit of teamwork and cooperation.

Lucky for me the route sets out from Sion with a climb straight off. Without the breakneck speed of a downhill, I was calmer and able to process my new position sanely. Still worried about Warren, I constantly glanced back to catch a glimpse of him. I could hear Kate giving him sound advice and pointers. I hated not being able to ride with him and hoped against hope that he would survive the day. This was a brutal route for a beginner rider, let alone, a first timer. He was young, at least he had that going for him. Ignorance can be bliss, and the less he knew what he was up against then the better his odds were for survival.

My hand position on the bars was strategically placed right up against the back of Chris's saddle. The slightest move or re-positioning of my hands inevitably meant a bop on his bum. It occurred to me that as a Captain, he is probably quite used to this happening. After about the 20th time of inadvertently hitting him on the rear I said, "Chris, I'm not going to apologize for every time I hit you on the butt. I'm sure you know that's part of the territory of being a Captain and I'm not trying to get all fresh with you." He agreed to my logic and we had an understanding as long as there was no pinching involved. He draws the line with pinching. I had no intentions to engage in frivolous behavior as a Stoker and we carried on as I tried to be more svelte in my hand maneuvers.

A decade of cycling in the West Oak Crit taught me how to be a smooth rider. Focusing on my pedal stroke, I worked on a consistent smooth cadence. Things began to settle in place and I came to terms with my new found position. Chris did all the decision making, I just followed behind like a baby duckling. On the switchbacks he explained the different techniques in taking the corner depending on the characteristic of the turn. It's sort of like the ole "wide load" coming through. It takes a slightly different finesse to whirl around a 180 degree bend on a double wide.

Chris complimented me on my cadence, "you don't have any dead spots, it's very nice and smooth." I beamed inside like a little girl who had just received the coveted gold star from her favorite teacher. Perhaps that would make up for my lack of downhilling abilities. I felt bad knowing Chris would hold back for my sake when we descended, but at least I passed the test climbing. I was very happy indeed.

Too busy concentrating on being a good Stoker, I completely forgot to pay attention to the climb. Was it long, hard, steep, easy, boring, short, I don't know. There could have been elephants on the side doing a dance and I would not have noticed. I just wanted to be a good stoker and put all my energies into being still and pedaling smooth.

"Calm, smooth, forward." These are the words I used to recount to Alexis when she first started racing mountain bikes. I would sneak in on the course and ride behind her saying the words over and over. Now here I was reciting them over in my mind to myself. It worked.

Kate is an instigator and a mischievous girl. She rode beside us in an effort to get us to up the pace. We fell for it and dropped the hammer on her. Chris and I made a strong duo and she could not match our power output. Kate laughed in delight, "ha, I made you do an interval!" That's fine, Kate, we will do intervals all the way if you want because we will dominate this climb! She knew our threat was real and she was no match for our power, but she still relished in making our heart rates sore. Cheeky monkey she is.

I liked being a part of something bigger than myself. Combining our efforts negated my weaknesses and boosted my strength. This could be addictive. It started to drizzle, but we forged ahead. It was a long climb and there was promise of better weather on the other side. We just had to get to the other side.

Warren had figured out quickly that to try and match our pace was suicidal. You have to find your rhythm and settle in. He was doing extremely well and exceeded any expectations I had. Every so often we would stop and regroup, but we never had to wait long at all for him. He was always within sight and I was radiant with pride over my little charge. The rain and cooler temperature added another degree of difficulty for him, and I could only hope that it would ultimately be a day of memorable epic proportions.

I have enough experience now in the mountains to know the passes can play tricks on you and mess with your mind. You think surely you are near the top, when in reality the halfway point is barely in reach. With the rain coming down harder, we stopped to put on rain gear or any article of clothing available to keep us somewhat dry and warm. Our tandem was the Sherpa of the ride with a pannier and various other bags holding every one's gear. I looked at the extra weight as a training tool. Chris is a very smart Captain. Weight means nothing to him on a bike because he can pretty much propel anything up a mountain with ease. He had so cleverly installed a fender on the back which was keeping my bum perfectly dry. Warren and Kate were not so fortunate. Neither did they have the luxury of a human wind/rain shield as I had. Yes, today I was digging being a Stoker.

After loads of switchbacks and tunnels we reached that stage of the never ending eternal stretch of climbing. "Will this climb ever end?" Well over 2 hours of climbing, the top has to be just around the bend. A black sky loomed around every turn. The hard rain had stopped, but there was no hope ahead of blue skies. I felt for Warren. This was the hardest bit mentally. You're cold, tired, wet and ready to get off the bike, but you have to keep pedaling. The Auntie in me wanted to coddle the little pumkin' 4 year old I remember, but the Stoker had to be concerned with herself. No time to be all soft and mushy. I was not alone battling a mental fight of perseverance like Warren. I had a Captain right there with me. I fed off his energy knowing he couldn't drop me and leave me to flounder on my own. We were a team and in this together, literally.

Being 'attached' to someone was so empowering! If I'd been on my own bike I'd be on the verge of falling apart, forcing myself to turn the pedals, screaming out into the air at no one every time I turned a corner only to see the road stretch further ahead. Instead I felt a comfort, a calm strength knowing we were doing this together. Just a week earlier I had been in that horrible place of climbing into oblivion wondering if it would ever end. We climbed the Flüelapass, it was cold, windy, and overcast. Our legs were tired from climbing the Albula and the top of this pass just refused to appear. I did shout out to the skies, "are you kidding me? is this climb going to end?" It's a lonely feeling. There were no tandems that day. We were each lost in our own private world of torture, climbing alone, just trying to make it to the top.

I wondered what Chris was feeling, up front, taking the wind, making the decisions, steering our ship. Was it harder? Did he gather any communal strength or willpower from my presence? I did not envy his position. He asked if I wanted to know what the temperature was. "No, not really. You can tell me when we get through." He said he thought this was the last corner, then it will be the last stretch. But his mind was playing tricks too. It wasn't the last corner. After a few more times of pulling that stunt I told him to stop. We'll know we're there when we get there. Just stop it!

I was quite pleased when we made it to the top, but my pleasure was short lived. I realized it meant we would now be descending. I did not want to descend. I don't like this part. Focusing as hard as I could on the back of his helmet, I dared not think about anything, especially how fast we may be going. Like a woman in labor, I concentrated on breathing, stay relaxed, it's no big deal. You can do this. See, we haven't crashed! Slowly I grew more comfortable with the movement of the big ole lumbering tandem as it carved the turns and leaned in the corners.

The road took us through breathtaking scenery. I could contain myself no longer. Gingerly retrieving my camera from my back jersey pocket, I took a video as we gracefully glided down past a crystal blue lake framed with mountain peaks all around. Stunning! Then the grade got a bit steeper and I quickly stashed the camera away to brace myself for more speed. Chris took a right turn on a little path and all I could see ahead was a gravel road leading upward. Calmly he told me to maintain my position, he was going to shift down, just keep pedaling. Oh my, we're going off road on a climb, how is this possible? If Chris thinks we can do it, then I guess we can. With an adrenaline rush I put into practice my best calm, smooth, forward imitation possible. Next thing I know we had danced our way over the top of the gravel and pulled up to the restaurant. Wow! That was exhilarating!

We thawed out in the restaurant, spreading out our wet clothes between 2 fireplaces and drinking the best hot chocolate ever. The Chef explained with great pride his Fendant soup that was his speciality and we each ordered a bowl. With tummies full and bodies sufficiently warmed, we headed for the gondola.

Yea! No more descent for us! I scored big time! The small gondola held us and 4 others while our bikes hung securely from hooks on the back. Chris quickly took the tandem apart and it hung in pieces as we enjoyed stunning views of blue skies down towards Gsteig.

A nice ride along the valley and then too soon we started our 2nd climb, the Col du Pillon. This was nothing compared to what we had just done, but to Warren it was a climb nonetheless. He was spent. Chris and I motored ahead. We knew how to work together in sync and climbing was almost effortless with our combined strength. Warren found his pace and turned over the pedals. I could not have been prouder to see him come over the crest less than 10 minutes later.

There was a cable car at the top of this climb, but it was not for the descent. Unfortunately I would have to suck it up and endure this downhill. I told Chris not to go crazy. By now I knew the routine of how to get on and get started. As if I had been doing this all my life, I clipped in, my Captain clipped in and off we went. Finding a focus point I locked myself in place and didn't move a muscle.

This descent had some good long stretches with great visibility so Chris let 'er rip. When we dove into the turns I was sure my stare would bore a hole through his helmet. I refused to let fear get the better of me. Telling myself over and over that Chris knows what he's doing, I began to enjoy the ride. We might as well been going 100 mph. I felt as though we would take off for flight at any moment.

A series of nice switchbacks came up and Chris practically squealed with delight. "This is a nice one you can take real fast," he said. Okay, if you say so. It was a cool feeling, to be going so fast but knowing you have nothing to do with it, no control whatsoever over the speed. At the bottom of the descent we stopped to take stock of the rest of our crew. They were no where in sight. We dropped 'em like there was no tomorrow. You gotta go fast if you want to hang on to the momentum of a tandem on a wicked downhill. We killed it! What a thrill!

What started as a bicycle built for terror, turned into a thrilling rush! Not only had I learned how to ride a tandem, but Warren had completed the most epic challenging ride of his life. I was a proud Stoker with a fantastic Captain. What an experience, learning to trust, to feed off each others strength, to just be and let someone guide me. This control freak could get used to passing over the controls. I was Stoked for sure. Wonder what it's like on a dirt trail? I mean, how hard could it be?! ;-)

Money in the Bank

2009-03-29T21:09:00.004-04:00

I heard a phrase on today's ride that really clicked for me. Always a day late and a dollar short, it was new to my ears, so please humor me if this is old news. This weekend has been another miserable dreary non bike friendly weekend with rain all day Saturday. Sunday was gray overcast, windy, and bloody cold....for springtime. I came "that close" to bagging the ride for the day, but somehow talked myself into at least making an effort to show up at the start.

The only sound in the parking lot heard above the howling wind was the sound of chirping crickets....it was that deserted. Well, maybe I exaggerate. Damyankee, Rlaz, and Park were the only ones ready to ride. I reminded myself that sometimes you have to go through the motions regardless of how you feel about it. Just get on the bike and before you know it, you will be done and happy to have gotten in a workout. Come summertime you can reap the reward of consistency and discipline. I still didn't have to be happy about it, and I wasn't.

My crusty shell broke slightly as we headed out through Paulding County. Perhaps this wouldn't be too dreadful. I can endure 3 hours of riding, I've been through worse. That's when Damyankee made the statement that registered on my radar. His view of today's ride was that "this is money in the bank." Yes! Yes, indeed. What a perfect way to say it.

If you make a small deposit every week to your bank account, after a while there will be a sizable reserve available to use for fun things. That's what I was doing today, putting a little down, adding to my account. A bit of work now that will hopefully pay off later.

Many a ride during the winter and early spring classify as "money in the bank," but I'm laughing all the way to the bank. Pretty soon, I'll be withdrawing alot of buckaroos to buy up a heaping of Fun! In fact, I've been purchasing some snippets of fun for quite some time. You can read about our adventures over at the new site, My Life on a Bike. See you at the bank!

Staying Warm

2009-02-23T21:22:00.013-05:00

Being cold is an issue I deal with frequently, especially on our bike rides in the wintertime. Most guys with which I ride do not seem phased by colder temperatures, and I truly wish being cold was merely a state of mind for me. The fact of the matter is, I am always cold and when I am cold my body does not function very well.

During our trips to Italy, one the highlights is a visit to the sauna. Europeans know how to do saunas and it is a heavenly experience. Having a my own personal sauna was always a pipe dream and never considered an option. A few months ago, I popped into a bathroom remodel warehouse and noticed some saunas on display. Mumbling to myself how nice it would be to have one, the salesman launched into his pitch of how affordable these models were.

My interest was piqued and I endured his speech. He described this unit as being an infrared sauna, something of which I was unfamiliar. What truly intrigued me was the $1,000 price tag. Back in the solitude of my own home, I did some internet research to learn more about infrared and far-infrared saunas. It was very interesting.

Here is an easy to understand explanation of far-infrared from High Tech Health:
Far infrared is a band of electromagnetic energy, just as visible light and ultraviolet light are. The difference between visible light and far infrared is that we cannot see far infrared. Far infrared is experienced as heat and this is how the heat from the sun reaches the Earth through the vacuum of space. Far infrared differs from ultraviolet in that it affects the body differently - far infrared is not harmful to the body in anyway and does not lead to sunburns or skin cancer the way exposure to ultraviolet can.

What makes far infrared so special is how it is absorbed by the body. It is in sharp contrast to a band of energy called near infrared that is also experienced as heat. Near infrared energy is absorbed only on the surface of the skin. It is experienced as a sharper heat sensation. It is also what is emitted by the heat lamps you see warming hamburgers at the local fast food restaurant. Far infrared, on the other hand, is absorbed into the body up to a depth of 1 and a half inches. It is experienced as a softer heat sensation which is quite enjoyable. It is this experience that people enjoy about sun bathing. It is also this particular property that enables superior detoxification. By being able to penetrate into the body, it is able to mobilize toxins that other forms of detoxification just cannot reach (chelation does not have this ability).

There are plenty of companies touting far-infrared saunas, but the one that interested me the most was Sunlight Saunas, because they offer a portable sauna. With limited space in our house, a conventional sauna is not feasible. However, the unique portable Solo System appeared to be a good solution for our space issue. I mulled this over for a few months while searching other brands. Filling out a quick info form on the Sunlight website immediately resulted in a call from the area representative and an email with lots of information. There is no pricing available to view on the site. You have to fill out the online form to receive the price sheet by email.

The representative has an office in Roswell, just a half hour drive for us, and said it was possible to come and try out 2 different models if I brought a bathing suit and towel. We made an appointment for a Sunday afternoon and drove out there after a long cold bike ride.

The rep, Kathryn, was kind and gracious and not too pushy. I do not like to play the "salesman" game, but put up with it since I was genuinely interested in the product. While Roger listened to her technical talk, I slipped into my suit and hopped in the one person free standing unit first.

While I enjoyed the warmth from the far-infrared rays, I could not get comfortable in the cramped space. There is not enough room to lie down, and the seated position did not allow me to relax completely. I am accustom to lying down in a conventional sauna. If I were to buy one of the free standing units, it would have to be the 4 person unit that allows you to lie down. Obviously, space and money constraints prevented me from making that purchase.

Next, I tried the Solo System. This is a unique design that allows you to lie down while encased in a "tent" sauna. Your body is covered while your head sticks out the end....like a sleeping bag!
The opening is insulated with a plastic cover attached with velcro that can be removed quickly. A towel placed over the end works much better than the plastic cover once you are in the sauna. The plastic is very uncomfortable touching your skin, and a towel serves the purpose much better. Once the sauna is heated up and ready to use, the plastic can be removed and a towel used in its place.

The modular unit can be easily broken down into 2 pieces and stored away. The brochure states that it breaks down into a lovely piece of furniture....that may be stretching it a bit in my opinion. At least it is not a hideous eye sore, but just an odd looking piece.

A separate heated Solo Pad to lie on can be purchased as well to complete the set, or you can just use the modular pieces alone. A heat reflective pad is also included to use with the modules to insulate the heat if you do not use the heated Solo Pad. In this photo, the Solo Pad is shown on top of the reflective pad.

After our visit, I decided to take the plunge and purchase the entire Solo System with the Solo Pad. Four weeks after the order was placed, two boxes were delivered by a shipping company (Anytime Delivery). Assembly was simple and straight forward.

The main control box has one cord to plug into the bottom module and a cord for the upper module, allowing you to control the heat output independently for each half. Another cord plugs the control box into a standard 120v wall outlet. On the right side of the box there are 2 displays for the heat level of the upper module and the lower module respectively. When the unit is on, the heat level indicator numbers flash constantly. When I called Sunlight Saunas to inquire about this, I was told that is normal and it will always flash. The red flashing lights are somewhat annoying when one is trying to relax, so you may want to position the box out of line of sight.

The number on the left side of the box is the time control. All numbers are easily adjusted with up/down arrow push buttons. The ON/OFF button is next to the time control. The graphics used on the control box can be confusing at first. The Round logo circle appears to be the ON/OFF button, while the real ON/OFF button disappears in its location. It does not take long to train the eyes to ignore this and learn the correct buttons to use. Once you are in the sauna, it is awkward to use the controls, so easy-to-find buttons are essential.

The biggest blunder is the Solo Pad's hand held control. The cord is barely long enough to allow the control to extend to head end of the sauna, therefore making it almost impossible to retrieve while in the sauna without having to do some gymnastics. When holding the control in the logical position (wires extending away from you), it is upside down and hard to read the numbers and make sense of keying in the functions.

In order to read the tiny print of each function and sort out what button controls what, you must turn the control around first. Little circles everywhere make it difficult to figure out which button does what, and with my bad eyesight I had a hard time making heads or tails out of it for weeks. Now, I have it memorized, but it's still cumbersome and quite a bother to make any adjustments once you are in the sauna.

Now, with those minor cons out of the way, let's talk about the pros. The best feature is the speed at which your little cocoon will become warm and toasty. I turn it on, go take a quick shower, and by the time I dry off and slip in, it is nice and warm. My sister's conventional sauna takes a solid 20 minutes to warm up and even then, it is not warm enough for me.

I realize the purpose of a sauna is for sweating out toxins, but for me it is also about heating up my core. After 3 hours of riding my bike in 40 degree weather (or worse as is often the case lately), all I can think about is getting warm again. As much as I love soaking in a hot tub, that still does not warm my core up sufficiently since it is difficult to maintain a steady temperature in the water.

Another big plus is the ability to control the heat depending on the result you wish to yield. If I want to get a good sweat, I can easily crank up the heat level and be sweating in no time. However, if I want to create more of a relaxing environment for my body, the temperature can quickly be reduced. I have also used just the lower portion of the system (bottom module) to warm up my legs and stimulate blood flow before a early morning ride on cold days. It's quite versatile!

The Solo System is more cost effective to use than a conventional sauna. Our measurements with an amp meter agreed with the statistics provided on the website of the power usage. Based on the rate we pay of 11 cents per kwh, the average use of 35 minutes per day at 1.34 kwh comes to 14 cents per hour to use. That's affordable in my book.

One thing that caused us concern when we first used it was that it caused the house lights to flicker. After buying a meter, we learned that the way it operates is by pulsing instead of creating a continuous pull. However, if the heat level is set at the highest level of 9, the pull is continuous. So now when I first turn it on, I set the heat levels at 9. Then when I get in the sauna, I adjust the heat levels to where I want them. Generally, I try to use it when nothing else is going on in the house to compete with the energy draw. We have talked with the technicians at Sunlight Saunas about this. In my opinion, this is a design feature that should be addressed. They do not feel that flickering lights are a big issue, but to me that is not something you should have to deal with on such a big ticket item.

If having the luxury and benefit of a sauna are important to you, then I recommend you investigate the Sunlight Sauna Solo System. It is an unobtrusive way to bring a sauna into your home, while not compromising the layout of your home in finding a spot to locate it. Plus, if your future plans require a move, it is not a big deal to pack it up with the rest of your belongings.

All the sauna websites make you feel as though a sauna will solve all your problems and heal every disease, problem, and blemish. While I'm not so sure that it is the magic cure all, I do enjoy it. So far, my life has proceeded as normal after 5 weeks of daily use. I do not feel any different, better, or worse. A few persons have made comments about my complexion, but other than that, nothing seems to have changed. Time will tell if I actually yield any health benefits, but in the meantime, I enjoy being warm for a change!

Come on Over

2009-02-08T20:53:00.003-05:00

Come on over to my new site, www.MyLifeonaBike, and see what's cooking. It's still a work in progress, and the progress will be slow, but I'm going to give it a whirl. I'll keep putting reminders up here, but eventually the plan is to move over completely. That's the plan.........

This weekend was most glorious and much needed for us. After enduring endless weekends of rain and/or cold, we were treated to a pleasant surprise; two whole days of sunshine and warmth. No time was wasted in getting as much as we possibly could out of it and we had two fantastic rides.

Saturday we went back up to North Georgia to revisit the Rich Mtn Trails. Even though we were there just 2 wkds ago, everyone was eager to return. Despite the 60 degree sunny day, snow still remained on parts of the trail adding a little extra touch to the fabulous singletrack.

You can read more about the trails and our ride on my new site, My Life on a Bike.

Today's ride was a pleasant surprise for me since I did not expect my legs to work very well after Saturday's Rich Mtn thrashing. Damyankee has been leading a Rubber Mallet ride series this winter on the atlbike.org forum and the route he proposed for today's ride intrigued Raja. Wanting to take a nap more than go out and ride, I had to talk myself into joining in simply because I did not want another beautiful day to go to waste.

Fully expecting to be burdened down with acid legs, I was shocked that my legs could make the pedals go round. We got a head start on the group just to make sure that we could climb Hulseytown without being dead last and picked up the peleton of 10 riders on Old McGarity Road. From there we got onto the new route which turned out to be some fantastic rolling roads with no traffic at all.

We had the best time enjoying the views and basking in the warmth of the sun. I was thrilled to be riding with old friends (Foster) and to see some I don't get to see often (Brent, Tom, Debra). Gosh, it was practically magical.....don't mean to sound sappy, but it was such a good ride. Even Cam was on his best behavior and shattered his bad boy image for Terri.

Coming back down the Comet at the end, we saw Al and his family. I got to meet a blog-fan, Liz (friend of Cartecay Mike). In the parking lot, we saw Frenchy as he was riding back from Piedmont. Cam's parents joined in the apres ride chit chat, and we even got in a visit with old time original cycling friends, Paul and Rick, from our grassroots days.

What a weekend! A great weekend of super good riding filled with lots and lots of friends. It has been a rough and stressful few weeks for us, but these weekends of riding allow us to escape to a place of happiness and joy, of real living. It's what gets me through the week. I can't imagine my life without a bike.

Tomorrow's a new day with the promise of more riding adventures on the horizon! I can hardly wait.

Another Birthday Weekend

2009-02-02T21:11:00.003-05:00

We had another typical fun weekend of good riding with great friends!

This time we celebrated Al's birthday. If you would like to read more about it, then..........

check it out here. Let me know what you think. It's a work in progress, but you gotta start somewhere! Thanks to Robb for getting me going!!!

The Power of the Birthday Ride

2009-01-26T08:09:00.036-05:00

There is truth in the saying, "strength lies in numbers". Everytime we have a birthday ride, it confirms my belief in the strength we gather when amongst friends. Our favorite Carebear, Mark, celebrated his 47th birthday on Saturday and called a celebratory ride at Rich Mountain.

Now, mind you, Rich Mountain rates as one of the most difficult rides in our area, if not THE hardest. Even though we have been riding this trail for 20 years, it has never gotten to the point where I take it lightly. Rich, or Stanley Gap (it's other name), deserves the utmost respect. The mere mention of its name in a crowd will elicit groans, ooohhhs, aaahhhhs, tales of horror, and even somber silence.

The ride had originally been planned for Saturday, but as usual, the rains foiled our plans. The ride was postponed till Sunday, and we prayed the weather would cooperate. January has been an unsettled month, to say the least, in regards to the weather, and we are all getting antsy, cranky, and eager to get out and ride.

In the midst of our despair, the skies cleared Saturday afternoon. A quick call was made, and we rallied around for a spontaneous Carebear Birthday Road Ride.

We were all so happy to be out on our bikes, that it did not matter whether we were on the road or mountain. I was also honored to be riding with Millhouse for the first time on the road. I am used to chasing his singlespeed down the dirt trails, not pavement. His lovely wife, Kristen, has been diligently attending spin classes all winter, so I look forward to having her join us on some rides soon.

Carebear, Tweety, Robb, Millhouse, Speedy, Regularjoe, Raja and I enjoyed a leisurely ride through the nice roads of Alphatucky taking care to save the legs in preparation for tomorrow's big ride.

On a side note, I was honored to meet Lauren this weekend. Lauren is the first (and only) female in the Cherokee Mountain Bike Club. How refreshing to see teenagers engaging in a worthwhile discipline, thanks to the leadership of their coach, Stephanie! I look forward to seeing these young riders out on the trails. Having been the only girl cyclist in my group for many years, I am especially rooting for Lauren.

On Friday, I was joined by The Caminator and Rlaz for a few hours on the road to jump start my system. After almost 12 days off the bike due to an injury, I was dreading that feeling. You know the feeling. Dead legs, no strength, no power, can't breathe, the horrible realization that you're starting over. The longer I put it off though, the more I would prolong the agony. After 2 days of riding to shake out the cobwebs, I was ready to head North for some Rich Mountain Fun.

Sunday morning looked promising for the drive up to Cherry Log.

As much as I love to encourage riders in their conquest of a new trail, I confess I am always a tad nervous with first timers on this particular route. You never know if their mental skills are up to the task and if all will emerge unscathed. Sure, Milma and Tibbs are mutha's of a trail, but they're only an hour or so of suffering. A Rich Mountain ride ain't over till it's over, and there's never any promise that all will end well.

Regularjoe conquered Rich last August on his 2nd attempt, and he was on hand today in case our first timers needed coaching. The morning air was cold down in the valley where we started, but we would warm up quickly. The ride starts with a mile climb up a gravel road leading to a 3 mile singletrack climb.

Ony was not afraid to take on the challenge of Stanley for the first time!

Another first timer was The Power of Cheese!

Emil, Clogger, and Speedy rounded out the First Timer Group. Speedy was lovin' the singletrack!

The singletrack climbs relentlessly for 3 miles cutting through the side of the mountain covered with the barren trees of winter.

Occasional clusters of rock covered in moss line the trail and brown leaves cover the frozen earth that will be mush once it thaws in the afternoon warmth.

Our tires were able to get perfect traction on this half, but it was another story once we headed back down to the pkg lot. For now, we climbed in ignorant bliss having no clue as to the slop awaiting us on the return.

I enjoy this trail the most when I get in my own little zone, not concerning myself with other riders or trying to keep pace. It seemed to also be the MO for everyone else. I like to look back on the trail and see each rider in their own little world making their way up through the trees. How many cyclists can you find in this pic?

RaceyTracey has ridden Rich a number of times, and she has no problem holding her own against the guys. We were the only female contingents in this sea of males, but we're used to it. That's why we're so tough;-)

Just when you think you cannot climb anymore, the top finally appears. Victory, for now. Ony was stoked over making it to the top of Stanley Gap. A few more climbs to go, but first, some nice long downhill.

The Downhill! There's plenty of downhill at Rich. This is what Raja lives for cause he has a need for speed. The Fox rp3 had just been PUSHed and was getting a test run today. I was hoping against hope that this would make him happier with the MotoLite. It certainly didn't slow him down. Nothing does.

Our roadie friend, Brian, had called at the last second to see if he could catch a ride with us. We were thrilled to have him join in, and he wowed us with the ease at which he flew down the hills (and flew UP the climbs).

Tweety is a diehard downhiller, so he brought his Santa Cruz Bullit for the ride. He never even felt the first rock or root, I'm sure.

Robb was sporting a new Rocky Mountain Slayer.

This was the latest in the lineup of bikes he is reviewing on his website, Mtb Trail Review. Whenever I asked him how he liked the bike, he would grin and say "I love it, everything about it is great!" Judging from how he was flying down the hills, he was lovin' it!

Everybody was riding in top form, and no crashes were to be had. Thank goodness! Rich Mtn can dish up some nasty spills if you get in over your head. Regularjoe has come a long way from where he was almost this time last year when he rode here for the first time.

We continued on down towards Deep Gap before heading off to the Flat Creek Loop. Paul is no stranger to Rich.

Neither is cRASh. Although he did not live up to his name today, fortunately!

As we started the climb up to Flat Creek, the rest of the birthday crew joined us. Carebear's Dedicated Athlete teamates, Brian, Shane & Tim, rolled up on their singlespeeds, barely breaking a sweat after chasing us up and over Stanley Gap. Millhouse was happy to have SS company, and we all secretly called them freaks behind their backs. These guys are crazy!

Brian Bell took off up Flat Creek with the Dedicated Athletes right behind him. Somehow, I found myself riding behind them and decided to enjoy being in their presence while it lasted. They weren't going all out race pace, but I still had to focus in order to stay on Flatfender's wheel. I reminded myself that their bikes were feather weights compared to my 28lb MotoLite. I was also carrying a loaded camelbak AND 3 lb camera on my 115 lb body, while they had nothing on their svelte muscle chiseled bodies. Well, all that was supposed to make me feel better about my lack of physical fitness, but it only made me more aware of the small child I was carrying on my back.

My motivation was to be with them once we hit the downhill. Flat Creek's downhill is super rocky and technical and lots of fun when you have good riders to chase. But the real mystery for me was to see them pull off this descent on hardtail/rigid bikes. Insane, I tell ya, downright crazy. These guys ain't right;-)

At one point, the trail is basically a creek bed of large rocks and water. With the cold temps, it was now a trail of ice. The ice was beautiful and I wanted so badly to stop for the great photo op this would be of riders coming through the rocks and ice. But I did not dare break stride and lose the train. I was having waaaaay too much fun riding behind Tim and Shane, watching them pick their way smoothly through the rough trail. NOW I was really appreciating my 5" travel Titus and the fact that my eyes were not bouncing out of my head. I could hear Tim shouting out comments; something about having a hard time keeping his eyes in their socket.

At the bottom of the long downhill, the trail takes a left turn to lead you to singletrack climbing back out.

This climb is relatively short and one of my favorites. It's beautiful. The racers took off, and my wasted little legs did their best to get me to the top. Carebear was keeping a fast clip, and I could not catch him. None of us could! But we were still enjoying being out on our bikes on the dirt.

Back at the trailhead, we congregated to discuss our options. Raja was ready for more, but my legs were fading. The loss of muscle over 2 weeks was sorely showing, and inwardly I was questioning my ability to get back up and over Stanley Gap. Most of the group was still eager for more, so I dared not back down and show any weakness. I was pleasantly surprised at everyone's eagerness to keep on exploring. The power of the Birthday Ride was starting to kick in.

We crossed Aska Road and climbed up Green Mountain. Once at the top, we descended down to the Long Branch trail and flew down that at warp speed, eventually dumping back onto Aska Road. A nice mile long climb up Aska, and we were back at Deep Gap pkg lot.

All we had left was a 3 mile climb up Stanley Gap and then a nice 4 mile descent back to the cars. Sounds so simple. My legs were killing me, and had no umpf in them. I was envisioning having to hike-a-bike the entire 3 miles.

As we plodded up the gravel climb to the trailhead, I started whining to Regularjoe. Well, bless my soul, instead of whining back, he began to dish out the tough love speeches I have been preaching to him over a year. He reminded me of some things I had told him that were of help in tough moments like this. "I said that, really?" It was a nice splash of cold water in the face, and I swallowed my own medicine as we made the turn up the steep climb.

And just like Regularjoe said, things kicked in, I dug deep and found something somewhere to keep my legs going round. One pedal stroke at a time. It was slow, but I made progress. In fact, I was surprised to round a turn and realize this was the top. Thanks, Joe. The power of the Birthday Ride in action. You give a gift of wisdom on one ride and it keeps going round to be used over and over again.

Clogger and Carebear had long since dropped me on the climb, but I did not mind the solitude. I was enjoying being out on the trail, lost in my own little world, focusing on my pedal stroke and breathing. Once at the top, Clogger was waiting. I told him to go on and I'd wait for the rest of the crew. I know all to well how mental one can get when on a new trail for the first time. Being alone for too long is not always good when you don't know where you are, and I wanted to be their connection back to civilization.

I made sure to wait at the top of the climb, so I could holler down and assure any riders that the top was just ahead. The last pitch is a bugger and really steep. I've only made this climb twice in my lifetime. Today was not one of those times.

A few nasty roots were the only thing standing between us and the last downhill.

Millhouse is a rock star in my book. Anybody that does Rich Mtn on a singlespeed deserves a medal, or psycho analysis. (I'm just jealous I can't do it)

By now, the ground had thawed and created a nice sloppy trail for us to descend. Things were tricky and a few riders had some unplanned dismounts, but nobody was hurt. We survived the entire ride only to get muddied up in the last few miles. But we sure had a blast!!!

A treat of homemade Rocky Road Bars were in order. We rode 22 miles and climbed 4100'. And we did it with a little help from each other. The power of the Birthday Ride is strong!

I am very proud of the first timers! Rich Mountain is a toughie, and you have to be real tough to stick it out. Well done Emil, Brandon, Ken, Ony, and Mike!

There is strength in numbers, at least amongst us. I ride with a fine bunch of folks.

Happy Birthday, Carebear! Thanks for sharing the Power of the Birthday Ride!

It Doesn't Take Much

2009-01-10T19:58:00.018-05:00

It doesn't take much to entertain me and my friends when it comes to a bike ride. We don't need mountains, beautiful vistas, or epic trails to have a grand time together. Of course, we would prefer to have all that, but sometimes Mother Nature throws a wrench in our plans. Rather than be defeated, we make the best with what we have. Take a group of good friends, add mountain bikes, mix with zippy singletrack, blend together for a couple of hours, and it will yield a deliciously fun ride.

Regularjoe's second attempt at a birthday ride got scrambled yet again thanks to the eternal rains we have been "enjoying". Instead of going north to Bear Creek/Pinhoti as planned (where it was raining), we decided to gamble on beating the rain by heading northeast to Chicopee Woods in Gainesville. Our gamble paid off.

All the cool kids were there, and FarmerG even brought some party favors. Homegrown loofahs! Ain't that cool? I sure am glad he decided to skip the WBL roadie ride to come play with us mountain bikers. Thanks Greg!

Our friends are cool like that. It has been nice to reconnect with Greg after all these years. We began riding with FarmerG in the early 90's and have alot of old memories to share. It has been refreshing to see the mixing of our old friends with our new. We're all very different, but we all seem to get along so well. Mountain biking must be a timeless sport.

Speaking of old friends, we ran into Tom and Belinda in the parking lot. Good people, they are. Also saw Don, one of our original mountain biking buddies. We logged many an hour training with Don, and it's as though time never passed when you see a good friend like that. I cannot imagine our life without cycling. The friends we have made through the years is a precious thing to me, of which I shall never take for granted.

Our newest friend, Millhouse, was sporting a new fork on his previously fully rigid singlespeed and we were all anxious to hear what he would have to say about it.

Whilst waiting for some of the sleepy heads to arrive, some of us zipped off for a quick warmup on the Lake Trail.

Let me translate "quick warmup" for you....chase Raja & FarmerG as they fly off down the trail. Nothing like a sprint to get you warmed up. It was cold out, and I was wishing I was riding San Felasco with Martina enjoying 78 degree temps and sunshine. No sun for us today. Cloudy and gray with rain on the way. But we weren't going to let those stupid clouds rain on our parade. It's Regularjoe and Robin's birthday ride!

As the herd starting rolling down the trail, I was captivated by the sight of the long trail of riders snaking through the woods.

A fast pace was set (surprise surprise) and we all did our best to keep up with the leaders. SkidSteer did not seem to be having any trouble!

Millhouse was mumbling in front of me as he tried to get used to his new fork. I hear rumors he almost did an endo, but I missed that, darn it.

New signs have been added at Chicopee as well as some super fun trails. I will always remember the work partys here digging out the ZigZag trail, but I must admit, the new trails are much better. Flying Squirrel is the Bomb!

We zipped,

and we raced,

then regrouped just in time to chase again.

There's nothing like singletrack to bring a smile to your face!

There were no Christmas trees or mystery trails to explore, and no sheriffs to summon on today's ride. Just good old fashioned trails to ride

in the company of good friends.

And the weeeeeds! Can't forget the weeeeeds for Kate!

Oh! And the food! Don't forget the food!

Yea, it doesn't take much to entertain us! I love the simple life, the simple life and my friends. It doesn't get any better than that.

Southern Abenteuers

2009-01-04T21:48:00.023-05:00

Since living in Switzerland, Jeff and Becky have experienced countless exciting adventures, or abenteuer, as they call it in German. Kate is particularly famous for leading some grand expeditions climbing countless mountains for hours on end, perfect for Jeff's insatiable appetite for adventure.

Back here in our slow Southern universe, we do not travel far for abenteuer fun, because it doesn't take much to entertain us. No energy is wasted looking for fun, for it seems to follow us everywhere we go. What began as gray dreary start to the New Year has turned out to be a barrel of non stop fun and abenteuer.

Ever since I climbed Haleakala on Maui in the rain, the weather has been nothing but yucky and mucky back home. I am beginning to wonder if I will ever ride again with the sun shining down upon me. But I have been diligent and ridden on these gloomy days pretending I was in Maui climbing to the sun.

We had a brief reprieve on New Year's Day and woke to an odd shiny object beaming rays of light on the trail. With all our friends scattered here and yonder, it was looking like we would not get in a traditional New Year's Day ride. At the last minute, a small group was rallied and we gathered at Blankets to ride.

We rolled out of the parking lot with Cyclesmith, Robin, bikeaholic, Barry, Alexis, Speedy, CliffordBRD, Tim, and regularjoe. Right off the bat, Tim set a blistering pace with Clifford and Barry keeping chase.

I was feeling unusually spry that day, and gave it my best shot to keep up. My lungs were searing, my heart was bursting, and my legs were on fire. Tim was blindingly fast and hammered us into the ground. It was fantastic! I'm normally not keen on race pace rides, but since my body could somewhat deliver, I decided to go with it.

Hammering intensely while trying not to throw up, I reminded myself why I stopped racing. It's not that I mind suffering. I just like to suffer on my own terms. If you put a race number on me, I will turn myself inside out until the Finish Line. There is no backing off. But when hammering amongst friends, you know eventually we'll all stop, regroup, laugh, and do it all over again. It's an adventure!

The only one not enjoying the New Year Adventure was Raja. "Did you have a good ride, honey?" I asked him. "No, the MotoLite rear end is just too harsh. I'm stripping it down tonight," he replied.

So, the frame lies naked and rejected in our living room (I call it the fancy closet because it's filled with bikes and such instead of furniture). But alas, Raja the ultimate internet searcher, has found reports of success with PUSH from other MotoLite owners with similar complaints. The bare Motolite now awaits a soon to be PUSHed rp3 in hopes that it will ride the trails again captained by the man who knows no fear!

Our encounter with the sun was short lived and 2009 resumed with clouds, drizzle, and rain. We were supposed to have a special mtn bike ride Saturday celebrating Robin, Joe, and PJ's birthday. It was also the one year anniversary of when Regularjoe crashed Robin's birthday ride and became our new fast friend. But the rains had ruined our plan, and the ride was postponed till next wkd.

I was not amused and wanted to ride, rain or not. It took some poking, but eventually I was able to herd up some cyclists ready for adventure as I was. We were not disappointed. Notice anything odd about this picture?

You know you're in for a fun day when somebody first pulls out a Christmas tree and then a bike! In all the excitement over Speedy bringing the holiday decorations, Regularjoe locked his keys in his truck. The plot was thickening.

Al, Jdubbya, PJ, Raja and I were rolling on the ground with laughter, while Regularjoe and Speedy ignored us. It just got better by the minute.

Regularjoe finally relented and called the Sheriff to bail him out, so to speak. By now, Al and I had enough pictures to keep us photochopping through 2010 and we had not even started the ride.

The fog was thick, but it did not dampen our spirits. Regularjoe was finally free, and the ride could begin.

Equipped with our mountain bikes, we were not phased with the nasty conditions. When we weren't cracking jokes and laughing our heads off, we managed to actually ride.

Over cool bridges,

and off onto dirt roads,

we planned to do the Mixed Loop course, until it started getting a little too muddy. From the looks of this hardpacked gravel road, we knew Johnny Monk would be a mud fiesta.

So, with a change of plans, we hopped back on the paved road and made a game of it.

Time for us to take our friends to Hulseytown.

Hulseytown is a looooooooong road climb on super rough pavement with the KOM ending by this cemetery. Thus, I call it the Col di Cemeteri.

The fog wasn't lifting one bit, but the temps were rising nicely. Raja started the climb from the back and managed to chase everyone down, taking the KOM.

We explored some dirt roads off Hulseytown.

I won't go into the details, but the Thong Trail had us laughing!

We got real adventuresome and tried to find a trail that Crockett had told me about earlier that day.

Not having a clue as to where we were going, we felt like kids again playing in the woods.

With the exception of me and Raja, everyone present on the ride is a parent. Ranging from 2 kids to PJ's big litter of 5 young uns', I think they were all enjoying being a kid themselves for a day. We did not really care where we were riding, as long as we were riding, we were having fun!

Reaching a crossroads, we put out an SOS on the phone to Crockett. Maybe he can figure out where we are and tell us which way to head! At the last second, before we rode off the cliff, the phone rang with Crockett on the other end. He didn't have a clue as to where we were! Oops, guess this wasn't the trail about which he was telling me.

No worries, we heard some dirt bikes and worked our way through the woods towards them to find the road. More fun was had bringing it home, and we laughed our way through 3 hours of a fantastic Abenteuer.

Regularjoe and PJ got in their birthday ride afterall. Happy birthday, my friends.

The next day the weather was, guess what.....still dreary and rainy. That didn't stop us from getting out for more riding fun. Tweety got us together and we struck out from Alphatucky in search of a good workout.

Robb, Regularjoe, Speedy, RaceyTracey, and Psychobilly rounded out the group.

We enjoyed a tour of the beautiful roads of Alphatucky. In between hill climbs and sprints, we laughed and played and had a good time. How can you not have fun when you ride with a guy in an outfit as fine as Mattycakes? Is that Euro cool? I'm not sure yet.

I've said it a millions times and I'll say it again, my friends are the bestest. We take care of each other. Whether it's getting you back on your feet when you've fallen down or cleaning your bike, they will do whatever it takes;-) I love 'em.

2009 has started with a bang. If the past few days of abenteuer-ing is any indication, then this year is going to be off the charts. Fasten your seat belts, move away from the doors, and please keep your hands inside the vehicle.

This train is about to leave the station! I look forward to riding with you all in 2009!

Here's a link to the pictures from our Abenteuer, or you can just watch the slideshow here.

Choices & Opportunity

2008-12-26T17:06:00.029-05:00

Life is a constant stream of choices and opportunities. The choices we make and the opportunities we take largely determine the course our life will follow. Today I rode with some kids that are charting a course for great things. I doubt they have any idea what amazing opportunities are being laid out before them, but one day they will. In 20 years they will look back and realize how incredible their parents were for leading them on a journey that shaped their lives in such a positive way.

Surely I'm not the only one that often thinks, "if only I had done such and such as a kid, then I..." When we are kids, we don't know we're supposed to be paying attention to the opportunities before us. We don't know that every little tiny choice we make can have major consequences down the road. That's why we have parents to direct our path, which appears to me to be a particularly hard job.

Fast forward through my life 44 years to today, and you can easily see where my choices and opportunities have led me. The day after Christmas with no where to go, I had 4 choices for the day's activity. I could ride by myself because Raja is under the weather, join MarkD at Blankets for a mtn bike ride, join the atlbike group for a road ride, or go shopping. Shopping is never really an option, so it was a matter of road riding or mtn biking.

I'm making the choice these days to do more road riding since it tends to yield me greater physical benefits for when I do choose to mtn bike. 2008 was not a year of many hours on the road bike, and it is definitely showing. It's all about choices. If I want to have more fun when riding in the dirt, I need to be in better shape. If I want to get in better shape, then I need to ride the road bike.

Sending out an email to a few choice knobby tire friends, I managed to only entice one in joining me for a skinny tire ride. Robb was sporting a purdy new Blue bike and had enjoyed his first road ride experience, and he was ready for more. I had not expected him to be so eager to join in, so I did not have time to debrief him, give a pep talk, or explain the intricate workings within the quirky life of roadiedom. He was going to be thrown to the lions and all I could do was pray that his choice would prove to be a good opportunity.

There were about 35 riders ranging in age from 10yrs old to 51yrs old all waiting at the Brewery parking lot in the chilly morning air. I was delighted to see many familiar faces I have not seen in a long time: Brent, Robin, Hillbilly, Rod, Barry, Alexis, Wendy, MarkT, MarkO, Sweetwater.

As we readied for the ride, I noticed a number of little fellas milling about, so I could not resist making their acquaintance. I met Matt, Nick, and Mikey, the junior cyclists of our group.

Nick is MarkO's son, and I knew that Mark had been working with Nick for a couple of years on the bike already. Nick is 10! I was told that Matt is a triathlon champion and Mikey does track. These were not your typical little boys out to play with daddy on the bike. I cannot put into words how delighted and thrilled I was to witness this event.

With a nice consistent pace, we managed to keep the pack together for the whole first half of the ride. Even though the streets were wet, it did not dampen our spirits.

We were rolling along, and I said to Rlaz, "where's my boy? I don't see Robb, where is he?" My panic was short lived when I realized he was riding up front cruising along sandwiched quietly between riders. Last night, Robb emailed to ask if "baggies" were allowed on the ride, which made me encourage him to wear them all the more. I was so proud to see him riding alongside everyone else in perfect form sporting a fine pair of mtn bike baggies.

This was my first time to ride the new Beautiful Backroads route. I like this route much better and think it's even prettier. I was really enjoying the lack of hills on the ride. The relatively flat course made for perfect spinning at a winter pace.

Riding beside Barry, I heard him say to Cam, "this is that fun road, isn't it?" I knew that meant, "this is that fun fast downhill road." Cam replied, "Yea, come on, let's go." So I jumped on their wheel as they started to sprint. I can't climb fast, but I can give it my best shot at warp speed pursuit on a fast road. So I was grinning on the inside as I anticipated the upcoming roller coaster ride in their wake.

Three short hills later after I dropped one of my lungs on the road, I said, "guys, this isn't a downhill!!!!!" Yea, thanks, they had gotten their roads mixed up and miscalculated at my expense. Time for me to sit up with my tail between my legs and wait for the pack to carry me to safety.

Other than the pseudo downhill, a brief scare from a charging deer and a long stint with SuperDog running along with us for miles, the ride was uneventful. Cam and Barry tried to lead the dog back home, but it refused to give up a chance to play with them so they had to eventually outsprint it. Sounds pretty easy, huh? This dog was like the Bionic Canine and surely on EPO. We were all amazed at its speed and determination to do the entire ride with us.

No one handed out any favors to the young cyclists, and Nick and Matt rode in line with the rest of us like they were pros.

At one point, I think Nick was wanting a little sympathy help and I expected his dad to crumble like a cookie giving in to his pleas. But Mark didn't bat an eye, spoke firmly to Nick and they carried on strong as could be. Impressive.

At times the pace would pick up a bit, but Nick and Matt dug deep and never broke stride. If you've ever ridden in a pack of 35 riders for 3 hours, you realize what a truly impressive feat this is for these boys. They were holding their own in a sea of experienced adult cyclists. As far as their future is concerned, these boys are going places. They may not choose to be pro cyclists, but the discipline they are learning now will carry them far in any area of their life. Ride on!!!

We stopped midway at a typical little Georgia backroads store to regroup and refuel. Cam and Barry caught up after their multi-mile backtrack to send Bionic Dog back home and we continued on with the ride. A quick check over my shoulder, and I could see my new charge was hanging on fine.

The forecast had said warmer temps of 60 and sunshine breaking through midday. Was it my imagination, or was it getting darker and colder? I had on my winter Sidis, so I was good despite the illusion of dropping temps. The pack seemed to get more serious as the tendency to drop in line, nose to wheel, grew more frequent. JeffL was content to act as the freight train as he pulled us through the wind that was strangely growing stronger. Had we consulted the weather forecast for the wrong state?

I was secretly hoping someone would have a flat or that BionicDog would appear so we could slow down. In silence we picked up speed on the zippy road as I tried to keep pace while ignoring an occasional grimace from my protesting legs. Beside me, Alexis was rolling her eyes at the increasing pace. She knew this wasn't a proper winter pace, but we still were too stubborn to back off.

As we made a right hand turn, I realized there weren't many riders behind me. Hmmm, Robb wasn't in front of me, and I can't see him behind me. Uh oh. It's not cool to invite someone to a ride and then go off without them. I told Alexis I was turning around to make sure everything was okay.

I was mortified that all this had taken place, and just knew that this would be the end of Robb's desire to ever join me for a road ride again. "Stupid roadies, just leave me hanging out here to dry, can't we help each other out like we do on mtn bike rides." These are the things I imagine he's thinking by now.

As I was riding back, I realized how stupid I was being since I had not been paying attention to the route. Now I wouldn't know where to turn to backtrack. Just as I made a wrong turn I heard someone holler, "No Laurie!" Without me even asking, Barry and Alexis had also turned around to join me as well. Maybe this won't turn out to be so bad afterall!

I breathed a sigh of relief when Robb came into view riding with Pete, Wendy, and Micah. Robb had gotten unhitched from the pack for a second, and that was all it took to mess up his momentum. Never underestimate the power of riding in a pack. It reduces your workload by 20%. If you're new to the game, it's hard to get back on the train.

Pete can ride a bike all day and night (literally), and without prompting had taken Robb under his wing. I sat back and watched as he coached him along making sure his first experience was a positive one.

An Opportunity had arisen for something good or something bad to happen, and choices were made for good. I was feeling so good about my choice in riding today. Not that anything in particular was happening for me, but that my confidence in the camaraderie in the Roadie Kingdom was being restored. Robb and I belong to a very special tight knit band of mtn bike friends that make it their goal to see that every ride is a memorable for all involved. What we have does not happen in many circles, so my heart was warmed at the show of support and encouragement displayed before me.

Micah's derailleur cable was buggered, and he couldn't get out of his big ring. He was having a struggle as well. No one was making a big deal about anything and there was no discussion on what to do or who will help. Barry just stepped up to the plate and provided his assistance.

Then it just got downright contagious.

Robb was rejuvenated and wasn't about to let go of a wheel this time. We were on the homestretch and I was so proud of him and everybody in my group!

By now we had all agreed the temperature had dropped instead of risen during our ride. Closing in on 3 hrs riding in the cold and dreary weather, I wouldn't have guessed I'd be a happy camper at this point, but I was!

In fact, both Robin and I were "the happiest girls in the whole USA!"

I had gotten in a great workout amongst friends, made new friends, and introduced a friend to a new opportunity. I never got a chance to help him out with advice, because everyone else was doing it for me!

His 2nd ride on a road bike and he knocks out 52 miles with no problem! Uh oh, I've got a problem on my hands. He's my friend, but I still have that nasty competitive streak hiding inside. Just one more cyclist I've got to keep up with now!

MarkO was beaming with pride over Nick's incredible ride finishing with the pack, and Matt's parents were proud as well. I was happy for MarkO since he was getting to see the fruits of his labor and sacrifice pay off today in his son's accomplishment. They both have much in which to take pride, and I salute them.

I didn't have anything to do with it, but I felt proud of "my boy", Robb:-)

It was freezing outside and the wind was whipping up, but we still all hung around afterwards laughing and being entertained by Hillbilly.

It would have been perfect if only Raja had been here. Poor thing, he's going stir crazy at home. I told everyone not to post on the forum what a good ride it was, but they did it anyway;-) I don't want him to feel left out. Thanks for all the well wishes from everyone to Raja. He misses you all!

Hillbilly put together a fun video of our great day on the bike.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow's adventure and hopefully the weather will cooperate. I finally get to ride with Racey Tracey and the gang. We're doing the Snake Time Trial course, but this time my Choice is to do the 17 miler. It's an Opportunity to be with friends and being with friends always leads me to great places.

Postnote: Here are some pics from the great ride we ended up having Saturday at the Snake in Dalton, GA. Robin and Ony experience the Snake for the first time and rode like champions. Millhouse nailed it on his rigid singlespeed and wowed us all with his strength and skill. I definitely learned that doing the 17 miler is much more enjoyable than the full 34 miles like we did last month!

Merry Christmas!

2008-12-21T20:00:00.018-05:00

2008 is quickly coming to an end, but that only means new biking adventures are about to begin. So I shan't get too upset at the lack of exciting cycling events taking place in my life. Climbing Haleakala must have taken the last of my yearly energy quota, because once we got back home my gas tank has been running on empty.

I took a whole 12 days off the bike, and now it feels like I'm starting all over. Fortunately, last week the temperatures took an unexpected turn, and we were blessed with balmy 60 degree days. My old spark was reignited and I dusted off the bike to hit the road. Never mind it was raining. In fact, I rode in the rain 3 days in a row, and I loved every minute of it.

Raja and I were looking forward to Saturday's Chili Dawg ride in Ellijay. Everyone was going to be there, and we'd get to put in some long hours on the bikes. As fate would have it, the rains continued and scared most of us off. But we had a backup plan, because I had a sneaky suspicion that this would happen.

RegularJoe and Ony were the only 2 we could rally around us for Saturday's ride in the misty rain. Raja had built up my Litespeed and he had his Trek hardtail. We were ready to ride the dirt roads of Paulding County. Crockett had introduced us to a nice 40 mile route that combined the best of dirt and paved roads in the area with minimal traffic and maximum scenery.

My rainy ride up Haleakala had toughened me up for riding in the rain, and I hardly noticed it was raining at all. We saw Michael and Eric out on their road bikes, and said our hellos. I was glad we weren't riding our skinnies as they were, and was quite content to be riding a mtn bike. I'd gone from my 28lb MotoLite to a 23lb Litespeed, so I figured it would feel like a feather.

These roads are the best kept secret out in these parts. More and more cyclists are catching on, but I imagine it will be a while before the streets are clogged with fellow roadies. I knew Joe would love this route because it has lots of old homesteads and things of note just bursting with character. I could hardly wait for him to see this neat bridge we crossed.

Being a photographer, he loves old houses and such. So his head was on a swivel most of the ride as I was constantly saying, "you'll like this up here, Joe, look at that!"

I'm enjoying this season of my riding life where I actually notice the things around me instead of just hammering with head down oblivious to my surroundings. Sharing that view with cyclists of the same mindset makes my rides all the more enjoyable. Not to mention, they usually point things out to me that I've missed. There is, afterall, so much to see!

I was so proud of Ony for coming on our 3 hour tour. In just a year, he has made leaps and strides in his progress, and can now handle a 40 miler without any problem. He didn't complain when we reached the inevitable sea of mud that the rains had provided for us.

We just laughed our way through and tried to walk as gently as possible. Ony's wheel would lock up from all the mud in his brakes, but he didn't pitch a fit and we finally made it with a few more pounds of added weight on the bikes.

I'll never forget the first time Crockett led us here. The mud puddles were everywhere and a few riders even dove in for a swim. They were not amused. The mud wasn't as bad this time as it was that first ride, thank goodness.

We survived and carried on with the route, the rain coming and going. It felt so good just to be riding.

I could not have been happier with my choice of riding partners. It turned out to be a really great ride. Nothing special in particular, we rode in the rain and mud for goodness sake! Like I've said before, the people make the ride.

I know for a fact that Joe was happy. He loves trains, and he got to see a train. It's the simple things in life!

Sunday's ride was not so warm and fuzzy. It's not that my choice of riders was bad. In fact, I got to see some faces I haven't seen in a while. Damyankee, Rich, Cam, Jeff, and Debra were excited to be riding and did not seem to notice the drop in temperature. I could barely hold a conversation with anyone because my mouth was almost frozen shut.

We rode to Hulseytown, and I hoped the climbing would help to warm me up. It did not. I was freezing and I could not breathe. Does the cold affect anyone else that way? I feel like I'm getting in 50% of the oxygen available when it's 40 or below. Even my super duper Sidi winter shoes were not enough to keep my feet warm. There was not one part of my body that was warm. To make matters worse, the wind was blowing with 25 mph gusts. The conditions were not pleasant for a little Southern Belle.

The group turned off to add bonus miles, but I declined. No extra credit for me today. Raja and I headed on to Yorkville to put this torture to an end. I was exhausted. All I wanted was to curl up in somebody's lap and take a nap.

Now I remember, I don't ride on the road if it's below 48 degrees. It has been over a year since I've done something that stupid. The memory is not working so well, so I'll chalk that up to an honest mistake. After seeing the wretched conditions in the rest of the country, I should not be complaining. It could be worse, we could have ice and snow.

I wanted to do a nice recap of pics from this year for my Sorba friends, but the task turned out to be too much for me. I hastily put together this little post that gives a tiny glimpse of our fabulous year in review.

Raja and I send out our warmest wishes to you all for a very Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday Season!

Cycling in Paradise

2008-12-17T08:36:00.024-05:00

Bike riding in Hawaii. It brings visions of riding in luscious tropical jungles with dreamy beach scenes in the background. But that's really not why we go to Hawaii. The cycling there is....well, unique.

If anyone adores Hawaii, it is me. Not a day goes by that I do not day dream about my favorite spots on the isle of Oahu. However, Life on a Bike there is quite different from Life on a Bike here on the mainland. With limited space, it's obvious that the first challenge is having alot of trails from which to choose.

Many of the trails traverse harsh Pali cliffs. Tropical rains yield lots of slippery as glass mud over wicked large roots, and one false move will have you tumbling down razor sharp volcanic rock to a most unpleasant end to one's vacation. A few doubletrack roads can be found, but you want to stay away after a big rain.

Most trails in paradise are much better suited for hiking, but we're die hard cyclists. Gotta ride bikes wherever we go. We know all the places to go, and they all dish up a challenge. These ain't touring trails.

For most Hawaiian residents, a bike is merely a means to get around. Here, the sport of choice is based on the water, which is logical. This is an island afterall. Bikes are transportation.

Your bike takes you to your friend's house, the beach, or to school. This is my favorite sight, riding by the local school with all the kid's bikes lined up outside. Brings a smile to my face everytime I pass by here.

There are a few pump tracks and a free ride area with jumps, but you won't find it jam packed like you'd find Big Creek on a Tuesday night in Roswell. Everyone's out surfing instead.

There is a respectable contingent of triathletes, but then again, swimming is part of that sport. Road routes are limited, but the worst part, in my opinion, is the road surface conditions. The smallest little volcanic rock will slice your tire in a New York minute, if you're lucky enough to survive bouncing around over the rough surface. That's why you ride your mtn bike.

One year we brought our road bikes, and we swore we'd never do that again. Getting beat up from the rough roads and having to repair tires, we decided that a mountain bike is the way to go. That way you can ride wherever you want, road or dirt, and still keep your teeth intact.

All that to say, even though we don't come to Hawaii for the riding, there is still enough to satisfy our need for 2 wheel fun. So, Thanksgiving day we packed our bags and boarded a plane for the torturous 9 hour flight to Paradise. One of our bags housed my Santa Cruz Juliana frame, drivetrain, Fox shock, and other various pieces of a bike. No ridiculous $175 fee was to be paid to stupid Delta airlines because it fit within the measurement rules. A wheelset had already been shipped off to our destination and was waiting for sherpaman to do his thing.

The first day after you arrive in Hawaii, you inevitably awake at 3am bright eyed and bushy tailed. Therefore, by 5am, Raja decided to put my bike together, and at 6am I was ready to roll. He was not so lucky in his bike selection. Raja was to borrow a friend's bike. They were gracious enough to offer, so he could not complain.

Riding from the house in Kailua, we can weave through residential streets and work our way to the little town of Waimanalo.

You can do a nice little road ride on the backroads of Waimanalo that back up to the Pali cliffs, but today we were heading for dirt.

Just before you get into town, you turn off the main street and head to the trailhead of the Maunawili Trail. A short doubletrack climb takes you to the singletrack that cuts along the edge of the Pali Cliffs.

It's a narrow trail with lush foliage and a symphony of birds to serenade you.

There are so many interesting things to see and sounds to hear. It really is a delight to the senses.

The last 4 miles of the trail get really technical with lots of big roots and rocks to hike a bike over. If it has been raining, I do not recommend it.

One of our favorite things to do on a bike is climb. Climb climb climb, happy happy happy, that's the Camp Hillseeker theme. The perfect ride for that lies up on the North Shore. We park at an airstrip alongside the planes,

while the gliders get towed up to the skies.

After a few miles of riding past ocean views, horse farms, and palm trees,

the real fun begins. The road begins to climb for the next 4 miles. From sea level up 2,400' to those trees on the ridge line in no time flat.

The best part is there are no cars, except for service vehicles that have a key to access the 3 gates along the way. It's just the two of us, Nene birds, and a dilapidated road that climbs straight up.

It doesn't take long before you can look over your shoulder and see the North Shore.

Raja had his work cut out for him on the Giant bike and its lack of low gearing, but that didn't stop him, of course.

4 miles later, you'll find yourself at the Nike Tower with views of both the leeward side and the North Shore to Kaena Point. Some days we've been up here with winds of 25-30mph that would blow you over. Thankfully this time was fine, so we headed back down just a bit to hook up with the dirt roads of Peacock Flats.

This will take you all the way to a singletrack trail that drops back down to where we parked. However, it is the most heinous trail we've ever ridden/hiked and it is not for the faint of heart. Since Raja wasn't on a nice full suspension, we opted for some playing around before heading back to the road for our descent.

It's so beautiful up here.

The descent is much more enjoyable on a mtn bike than a road bike. It's only when you go down that you think, "dang, did I climb up this? This is steep?!"

Raja put his rig to the test to see if he could rail the turns.

He said it was a bit of a challenge, but I thought he made it look pretty good.

I love the view coming down.

It reminds me of the other world down there, and I start getting antsy to go take a look. Time to wrap up this ride so we can go watch the insane action at Pipeline.

During last year's Hawaiian escape, we did not have bikes. We were Bikeless in Paradise, and we lived to tell about it. This trip we had about every experience I could think of on a bike. We had casual rides through neighborhoods and the park, we climbed a steep road and played on doubletrack off shoots, we traversed singletrack trail in the thick jungle, and climbed a volcano on road bikes. We even had the chance to help a little guy take his first spin on a bike.

I love the look on his face when he got going!

I hope he has as bright a future ahead of him riding bikes as we've had. Afterall, he lives in Hawaii where you can ride everyday. Cycling in Paradise. That does sound pretty good, doesn't it?!!

Cycle to the Sun

2008-12-09T14:23:00.100-05:00

It is my firm belief that anniversaries, birthdays, and special occasions should be celebrated doing something memorable. Receiving of gifts and consuming an overpriced meal do not rate in my book as memorable. Marking a date with an epic ride or adventure is a sure fire way to forever brand one's memory bank.

Every December, my birthday rolls around and every December the weather is less than desirable. Rarely do I spend that day doing anything memorable. Raja always marks his good day with exciting adventures like cycling up Whilster's Blackcomb Mtn, Marin County's Mt. Tamalpais, the Stelvio Pass in Italy, or up the Swiss Alps. The last birthday I recall was my 30th. Imagine my surprise when I ran into Harry's Farmers Market only to find the bread department filled with all my friends dressed up in various chocolate outfits. Suffice it to say, it's hard to surprise me, and that one did.

This time the surprise was on Raja. I had no intentions of spending my birthday in cold dreary Georgia, so I pestered Raja until he relented to my scheming. Two tickets to Hawaii were purchased, and we were on a jet plane Thanksgiving day.

I had accomplished one goal of being somewhere warm for my birthday, but now for the 2nd goal. What to do on the actual day that would be memorable? Lying on the beach hardly counts as special. It would have to be a bike ride, but there aren't any super epic rides we wanted to do on Oahu.

I know!!! Let's go to Maui and climb Haleakala, the 10,000' high mountain! Dozens of tour companies drive eager tourists up the mountain and suit them to ride down the mountain. We would do it the opposite way. We'll ride up it. We did 12,000' climbing one day in Switzerland, how much harder could this be?

There is a race up Haleakala each year called Cycle to the Sun. Checking out the results, I saw the times ranged from 2:51 to 6:45 with the average looking to be 4 1/2 hrs. Judging from this, I wasn't too daunted or worried over the degree of difficulty. Besides, we are graduates of THE Camp Hillseeker, the hardest Swiss cycling camp of all times. I can handle anything. Bring it on. I'm the birthday girl.

We were scheduled to fly to Maui at 6:30 Tuesday morning with the return at 8:55 that evening. I had it all figured out. We'd slowly work our way over to the bike shop to pick up the bikes, head out for the ride by 8:30, finish by 2 or 3, grab a bite to eat, enjoy the sunset, and roam around just in time to catch our flight back. What was that I've posted about before? The best laid plans of mice and men........?

If you're ever in Hawaii and want to fly between islands, don't go with a compulsive obsessive early bird. Our 6:30 flight did not necessitate a 4 am wake up call, but we still managed to rally at 0:darkhundred, no thanks to Raja's new Touch Ipod that went off with an ungodly Defcon red alert alarm at 1:00am. I resisted the urge to throw that thing across the room, and went back to a deep sleep. Fortunately, Raja woke up at 4:15, and we had more than enough time to make our flight.

I've been to Maui a number of times, and wanted to make a stop by Ho'okipa Beach on our way to the bike shop. At 7:45 a.m. the parking lot there was full and all the surfers were already out in the ocean waiting for the perfect wave.

"I thought this was windsurfer territory," I commented to Raja. Being in the know, he told me that surfers have priority until 11:00 am, after which the windsurfers get to do their thing. We watched in awe as the surfers rode the monster waves. I'll never comprehend the amount of courage, strength and agility that sport requires. They have my utmost respect.

As we rolled into the bike shop just before 9:00, a couple from Canada were already suited up and preparing for a guided ride with the shop owner, Donnie. I was envious since the girl was being set up with a Litespeed. Something told me I was not going to get the same nice rig.

Kay assisted us in getting bikes and such, and could not have been more helpful. She was very patient, informative, and full of energy and I appreciated her attitude. She even insisted Raja use her personal lightweight backpack for carrying the extra clothes we'd need on the downhill. I usually dread dealing with bike shops when renting bikes. I don't know if it's because I'm short and a female, but they tend to treat me like I'm a moron and act as though they'd rather be at home doing laundry instead of helping me.

For the lovely price of $60 each we were handed Scott Speedster S30 road bikes. Raja noticed the rear cassette looked to only be a 12x25, but was slightly relieved to see the front had a triple ring. If we're going to climb 1o,ooo', we needed all the help we could get. I was a bit worried with the ride the aluminum frame would deliver, but was pleasantly surprised when it rode more like carbon. Hawaii road surfaces are horrible at best, and a harsh riding bike can shake your teeth loose. Believe me, we've been there, done that, don't want to experience it again.

Kay handed us a casually drawn map and went over the directions pointing out landmarks for which to look. There was about a 10 mile climb to get us to the start of the 22 mile climb, and time was a wastin'. Finally, around 9:20, we rolled out of the parking lot.

Within 1/2 mile we had already missed a turn. We were off to a roaring start. Backtracking, we found our turn and got back on course. I had absolutely no idea what this ride had in store, other than we would be climbing the entire time. Looking ahead, all I could see were clouds. For all I knew, Mt Kilimanjaro was looming before me. What you can't see, can't hurt you....at least that was my theory for the ride. Carry on and upward.

The roads led us up through lush beautiful upcountry fields with grazing cows and sheep, flower farms, lavender farms, fruit trees, and big giant majestic trees lining the way. We would get to an intersection and scratch our heads while taking a wild guess as to how to interpret the map.

After a few miles we began to see groups of cyclists coming down the road. Ah ha! These must be the Maui Downhillers. These suckers got up at 4am just like we did, so they could make the 0:darkhundred shuttle ride to the top for the sunrise. Now, they were enjoying over an hour of cruising down, down, down.

With full face helmets, windbreakers, and hefty bikes, some of the participants gave us the shaka sign as they zipped on by. Some looked happy, others didn't look so enthralled. I hoped I too would be a happy camper once I made my descent.

We turned on Olinda Road and faced a wall to climb. Kay had warned us, and assured us that it was short and would be the steepest thing we'd face all day. Still the downhillers would trickle by as we continued up. Two here, 3 there, a big group, then a straggler or two. We passed by the van where cyclists were finished with their downhill run and were loading up the bikes.

They stood there gawking as we rode by, and we heard them saying, "they're going up the hard way!"

The clouds stayed put and I began to lose hope that the sun would break out. We decided this was a blessing, since the lack of shade would cause us to roast if the sun were to shine. Convincing myself that it was okay, I came to terms with the clouds. As long as it's not raining, I can handle it.

After climbing for days, we finally reached the official turn for the Haleakala climb. Only 22 more miles to go. Sounds so benign, so doable, so easy. What's the big deal? Never mind it has taken us an hour and a half to get this far. I told myself it was because we had stopped to consult the map and take a picture or two. The grade wasn't steep and once we got cranking I figured we'd be at the top in 3 hrs.

At various strategic points along the course, the elevation was painted on the road. I ignored the 2,000, & 3,000' markers. That's just too depressing. But once the 4,500' popped up, I started the mental games. "Almost halfway there, that's 4,500' closer than you were a few hrs ago, this is a piece of cake."

A rather bold sign announced the entering of cow territory. Watch for cows in the road, it said. Yea, yea, whatever. Like I'm sure cows are going to be ambling around in the road when there's zillions of green acres around for them to graze.

Whoa! 1/2 a mile later I came to understand they were not kidding. This big ole cow was staring me down as I came up on him. I'd move, he'd move. I'd stop, he'd stop. Um, what do I here? We played chicken for a little while and finally he crossed the road, but not without checking me out first. It was a bit nerve racking. I made a mental note to watch out for him on the way down.

We passed loads of cows, many right on the side of the road, but none were as interested in me as the first one I encountered, thank goodness. After I recovered from the shock of that experience, I realized the fog was getting thicker and thicker. That's okay, I thought. It's just fog and the effort we were putting out was keeping us warm despite the falling temps.

For every 1,000' rise in elevation, I think the temp drops by 2 degrees. I couldn't help but wonder how I was going to deal with things in another 5,000'. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. Right now my work was cut out for me and I needed to stay on task.

The road had turned to long stretches connected with switchback after switchback. The clouds concealed the path ahead, and I imagine it would be a daunting scene to look up and see eternal switchbacks. Even with all the fog, you could sense the wide expanse and how spectacular the scenery would be if one could see it. Pretending I could see the beautiful view below, I'd say "Wow, that's incredible, that is so cool!" In reality it was just Raja against a not so stunning backdrop of clouds.

Already I was getting a bit too mental, but it was the only way I could think of to keep myself going. Talking myself through this was the best plan I could formulate. Otherwise I'd be mad that I'd come this far just to ride up some road for ever and ever and not see a thing. What are you going to do? Regularjoe would tell me to pitch a hissy fit. That would fix everything. But not today. I was going to be the victor today.

Climb, climb, climb. For hours now, all I've been doing is climbing. No relief, no letting up, no rolling hills, no views, nothing to tame the senses, no conversation. Just a gradual grind up up up. At least there were the sounds of exotic sounding birds to entertain me, but as we climbed higher, their sounds faded.

It's hard to pace yourself when you have no idea exactly what your facing, so I did the best I could to be conservative without crawling on all fours.

Raja had the unfortunate luck of being sickly the previous few days. A lowgrade fever and serious congestion had left him with no energy at all. I kept trying to talk him out of doing the ride, but he insisted he might as well do it since we'd come all this way. Riding at a slightly quicker pace, I'd ride ahead into the fog trying to find my own rhythm while stopping every once in a while to spot him on a switchback.

"Are you sure you should be doing this, honey," I'd stop and plead with him to turn around. But he was as stubborn as I, and insisted I go ahead and ride my own pace while he did his own thing. "Okay, be careful," I said and rode off.
We had reached the 5,000' mark and I was ready to make some time. No longer stopping to check on my sherpa, I got into a zone and worked at clicking away the feet. Mile markers started at the bottom of the 22 mile climb, and it seemed to take hours to pass between miles. Mile 7, aaaaaggghhhhhh, that means 15 to go. Time for a new strategy. I decided to cut the mileage in half and shoot for the 10 mile marker as my goal. Then I'd start over again at mile 11. Kay had said something about a park entry gate at 7,000'. That would be my other goal.

The fog had now developed into a light drizzle. Still coping rather well with the dismal conditions, I continued with my pace in short sleeves and shorts. I would not put on any more clothes unless absolutely necessary. The arm warmers, jackets, and such would better serve me for the descent if they started out dry. As long as I was working up a sweat, my body stayed warm enough and the cold did not effect me. Who was this person, and what had they done with the real chocolate girl, I wondered?

The closer I got to the park station the more driven I became. But then I had a sinking feeling. The park gate meant I would need $5 to enter and my sherpaman, who was trailing behind me, was my money man. The smart thing to do would be to stop and wait or turn around, but instead I kept driving onward as if possessed. Surely Raja wouldn't be too far behind, and surely he wouldn't have decided to abandon and turned around. Like a mindless droid, I turned the pedals over and over methodically, watching for the elusive mile marker to appear.

I must be hallucinating, because I could see a mirage in front of me. Two riders were standing on the side of the road. I had not seen another cyclist, other than the Maui Downhillers, since we started. It didn't even occur to me that someone else would be doing this. Resisting the urge to get off and hug them, I passed them by while saying hello. Riding along for hours in the same rhythm, up up up had put me into a type of trance. Seeing other humans shook me out of my solitude and sense of being the only person left on the planet. A planet I could not see, just a sea of fog, rain, and an endless paved road forever extending before my wheel.

This jolt made me realize it was actually raining, not just drizzling. I decided to stop and put my extra clothes in a plastic bag within my backpack and to put on my vest to slow down the drenching effect. As I stood on the side of the road, my 2 compatriots rode by and we greeted each other again.

This was fantastic. A carrot to follow! Two carrots to follow. I hurried and got back on the bike to pursue my new found rabbits. Slowly, very slowly, I caught up to one and passed him by. It wasn't about proving anything or trying to look stronger. I was feeding off their energy and using that to motivate me to continue onward. It took a little longer to catch carrot #2, but eventually I did. Actually, the facts are blurry now, I cannot recall what transpired. I don't think we rode together, because if we did I would have chatted with him. I guess I rode on ahead, in the rain.

I had no watch and no computer for keeping time. How long have I been riding? Have I missed our flight back to Oahu? After what felt like days, the Haleakala park sign came into view with a little shack in the road marking our entry fee point. I would have to stop at this point and wait for Raja, in the rain, in the cold rain.

My godsend friends appeared and stopped to evaluate their plan. I kept coming up with new conditions on whether I would continue. At first I had said "if it rains" I'm not going, and now it was raining. So I said, "if it downpours" I would turn around. Yong Sik and Ivan were seriously debating continuing on past the gate. "Oh, come on, please, you've got to try it, you've come this far," I pleaded with them to go for the summit. Ivan was already cramping and did not feel he had it in him, but they decided to go on anyway.

We said our "goodbye, see ya shortly", and I waited for Raja to appear. There was no way in H-E-double hockey sticks that I was going to ride down how ever far to find him. No siree, not today. Once I've climbed a foot, I'm not descending it until I'm at the tippy top. Right as I watched my 2 new friends ride off in the fog, I looked back to see Raja's jersey appear around the bend. Shew.

He was a bit dismayed that I had ridden off and not gotten some money from him. "You could be way ahead by now," he said, "you need to keep going. I don't know if I am going to continue." He assured me it was okay to go for the summit without him. At this rate, I knew I didn't have enough food, so Raja gave me the rest of his supplies. "Can I have your Sunto too?" Raja equipped me for time keeping and bid me on my way.

Paying my $5 to the guy at the gate, I asked him if he thought it would clear up at the top. He had eaten his ill pills for the day, and said gloomily, "I doubt it, from the looks of things here it's probably worse up there." Gee, thanks Mr. Sunshine, I felt like saying. Then he smugly said, "We all make our choices, you could be lying on the beach right now." To which I replied in the happiest perky voice I could find, "What would be the fun in that? I'd much rather be doing this!"

I left cranky pants to his gloomy day, and rode up another 1/4 mile to the information center to fill up my water bottles. As I got back on my bike, I saw Raja coming up through the fog. Wha????? Figures, he's going to try his best. I felt so guilty, so bad for him as we exchanged smiles across the distance and I carried on with my personal quest. I am a lucky girl.

Choosing to ignore the rain and colder temps, I set my sights on catching up with Yong Sik and Ivan. There had been a sign at the info center showing the remaining route ahead, and I had made note of the number of switchbacks to give myself something to count down. The road appeared to go in long stretches with only about 7 switchbacks. 11 miles to go and 3,000' more climbing.

The terrain was turning rockier, almost Moab looking with short desert bushes and little yellow flowers dotting the roadside. I thought it odd that these delicate little flowers could survive in such wretched conditions. If they could do it, then so could I. Seeing the colors gave me hope in this sea of dirt, rocks, pavement, and rain.

I passed by my 2 friends stopped on the side of the road. They said they were just stopping for a bit, so I encouraged them on and said I'd see them soon. Somehow I felt that that would be the last time we'd see each other. (Post Note: Yong Sik attempted the climb 3 days later and successfully made it to the summit. Now that's impressive!)

Whenever the road headed east (I think, or lets just say going across the leftside of the mtn) the air would be drier and warmer. I began talking outloud to myself. "Whoohoo, this feels great, that's what I'm talking about!" As I looked up towards the next switchback, the fog and clouds were thick, so I knew this would not last. I enjoyed it while it lasted, and then the road turned back into the rain.

By now I could not believe what I was doing. I was doing everything I hate doing on a bike. Riding in the Cold and Rain up a Climb with No View whatsoever. I was laughing inside, like a possessed deranged person. It was as though the worse the conditions became, the more driven I became at overcoming them. That summit was up there, and I was going to get to it on these 2 wheels.

I hate to belabor the whole "been riding 20 yrs+ thing", but it really has paid off in some ways. Ten years ago I don't think I would have had the mental endurance to stick with this. All those decades of experience have taught me a thing or two, and I felt a slight sense of satisfaction at getting to draw from that.

My legs were started to twinge and fatigue from the countless of hours of climbing. With no computer to see my speed, no fellow cyclists off which to pace, I had no concept of how I was doing. I was going forward, that's all I knew. At least I now had a watch, but I tried not to look at it too often. The time seemed to pass faster than my wheels were carrying me forward. How many hours is this going to take me? It was a mental challenge not to dwell on it, thus risking the onset of discouragement and defeat.

The mile markers were much more encouraging at this point. They came more frequently than the elevation signs, so I started a new game. When the marker would appear, I would holler outloud, "Yahoo, Yea!" Then I would say whatever number it was, "Fourteen!" Then I would say it in German, "vierzehn!" Then in Italian, "quattordici!" Of course, between the fatigue and diminishing supply of oxygen, my mind was not working so fast anymore. It would take me a while to process the words and language in my brain, but it helped to pass the time. I would refuse to say the next mile number or even think of the next number until it appeared.

I sang the Camp Hillseeker song, "happy happy happy, climb climb climb". But I couldn't overdo it with the verbal action, because it would use up too much of my precious valuable energy. Just a few verses were sung outloud, and the rest in my head.

Amazingly enough, this strategy worked well, and the miles moved along with my legs. Any sign that appeared would bring great excitement since there was not much at which to look. Some signs were not so encouraging.

Others were intriguing.

I guess I would have missed the signs had the clouds not been obstructing the fabulous view that I could almost feel, it was so real to me.

Then I saw it. I patch of blue in the sky! I had not seen that color since 9:00 this morning. By now, it was closing in on 3:00. Would I actually be able to see the sun today? Would it be up there at the summit waiting on me!??

Watching the clock, it was taking me about 8 minutes per mile. I had to up my pace if I wanted to make it to the top by 3:00. With at least an hour and a half descent still ahead after the summit, I could not waste any time.

Even though my altitude was climbing higher and higher, my breathing did not seem to change as it usually would at higher elevation. My legs were more than making up for it though. The muscles were screaming, and I remembered reading about someone elses same experience. Does the higher humidity make you react differently to altitude? I don't know. All I knew was I was glad to not be panting anymore than necessary. My mind went back to last year when we climbed the Stelvio in Italy. I could hardly breathe those last few miles from 7,000 to 9,000'. Interesting. Whatever the phenomena was, I'll take it.

The clouds were still thick as a blanket when I looked down below me. Unable to get the satisfaction of seeing the switchbacks I had already conquered, I squinted to see what was glistening ahead. Oh my, oh my! I bet that's the observatory! I started to giggle. I'm going to see that sucker! Oh yea, baby! I'm doing this thing. For the first time today, I saw a most unusual sight, my shadow! I was ecstatic, so much so though that I had to take my picture. Never has something so simple made me so happy.

That revelation did not make it any easier, but the excitement made me click it down a gear and push a little harder. My effort lasted all of 30 seconds as the searing pain ripped through my quads and down my calves. Shift, shift!! You've got to make it to the top in one piece. Just calm down and keep it going.

The rain had stopped and I was going in and out of the clouds. The thought of actually making it to the top was slowly starting to register in my brain. All I could think of was, "take it all in, this is probably only going to happen once." And I did take it all in. The moonlike terrain, the big puffy tops of the clouds, the bright reflection of the sun bouncing off the glass observatory, the beautiful summit sign pointing me on my way, it was all so beautiful.

I turned a corner and saw the information center knowing that this was the last push. As if laughing in my face, the road pitch got steeper and tried to bring me down. But I just weaved the bike and pushed the pedals over as slow as I could without seizing up my legs. Too tired to laugh outloud, I was hysterical on the inside. The top of the world was laid out before me, and it was spectacular!!! I slowly inched by the 10,000' sign and rolled into the parking lot. A small pathway went up to the very top and I continued on my bike up it not stopping until I was all the way at the Summit.

Barely able to get off the bike, I gingerly lifted my left leg over the top tube while trying not to fall over. A feeling of disbelief washed over me. I had been pushing for this moment for so long, and it was finally here. I had no vision of what to expect, which made it all the more exhilarating and fresh to behold. There were just a couple other people at the top, and the solitude was appreciated. It was so quiet and majestic, and a group of jabbering tourists would have ruined the moment for me.

I knew that just below those clouds was the most spectacular thing I could have seen, but today I would only be left to my imagination. The Haleakala crater was at my fingertips, and I wanted so so badly for those clouds to vanish and reveal the volcano's glory. It didn't happen.

My disappointment never had a chance to surface because the euphoria and awe over what I had done took over completely leaving no room for anything other than excitement. My watch said 2:55. I had made it with time to spare. Time to gawk and stare and stumble around saying, "I can't believe I made it, I can't believe it, I did it, I'm here." Five hours, five continuous hours of climbing, over 32 miles. That's a first for me.

After officially documenting that my bike had brought me to the top of the summit, it was time to begin layering up in preparation for the downhill.

My hamstrings were tight as a tick, making it difficult for me to move about swiftly. Thankfully, not many people were around to wonder why I was hobbling like a 99 yr old woman, and I slowly put on some clothes. Arm warmers, knee warmers, shoe toe covers, long finger gloves, vest (already on) and wind breaker. The sun was shining so brightly that I questioned whether I would really need all this stuff. It felt so good standing there in its warmth, that I did not want to leave. But I knew I had to get going, so I took one last shot of the infamous Silversword plant that is only found here in the crater.

A group of foreign speaking guys were suiting up with body armor in preparation for some type of mtn bike descent. I wanted badly to inquire if they were going to go down the Skyline Trail, but was too focused on my task at hand....getting down. The second I started down I realized just how frigid it was. Instantly, the cold air pierced through my helmet vents, inducing brain freeze. Holy smoke! It's Cooooold!
Thank goodness I have on these clothes!!!

As I rounded the first switchback, all of a sudden everything went dark. What's going on? I started to panic as I gingerly tapped the brakes trying to avoid skidding while I slowed to a stop. Oh, duh. The clouds and light rain had instantly covered my glasses making it impossible to see. Putting them away in the safety of my pocket, I continued down into a thick wall of clouds.

It only got colder and darker. Was it this thick when I was climbing? No, the conditions had worsened considerably in that small amount of time, and by now I could hardly see 20' in front of me. I had 2 choices, I could lock up, panic, and stand there crying, or I could focus, block out the bad thoughts, and keep going.

Not being a big fan of downhilling on wet roads, the zero visibility and zero temperature made things downright unbearable. "Just keep it going, the faster you go, the more stable you'll be, relax, just tap the brakes, keep your speed down in these tight turns, don't go off the edge, stay in control, you can do this." I talked my way through it with intermittent breaks in focus, "crap, it's so stinkin' cold, I'm freezing, aghhhhh, No, stop it, don't think about it."

With no warning, 2 car lights would appear in the opposite lane right before me. I could only hope that they didn't swerve in my lane and take me out. I almost careened into a van stopped in the middle of my lane. What the......? They decided to stop and take a picture of a Nene bird on the side of the road. Brilliant. Thank you very much for taking a few years off my life.

Under normal conditions, I would be enjoying a stunning view of The Valley Isle below me. Not today, still the same ole scenery I had on the way up. Nothing. For an hour. When I got near the cow zone I was extra careful. That's all I need is to plow into a cow! Crossing over the cattle guards was nerve wracking since they were slick as glass.

I passed by the Hawaiian version of the North Georgia Gaps Sunrise Market. The sign was so inviting, but I whizzed on by in pursuit of the bottom.

The air was finally feeling warmer and I had broken out of the thick rainy clouds. My core was still frozen and my wet clothes were not helping to warm my body. It would take a while for me to reap the benefits of the rise in temperature.

This bike was surprisingly comfortable for me and my hands were not cramping or uncomfy at all as they were during my descents in Switzerland. At the end of the 22 mile road, I took a right and looked for the blue arrows to guide me on the rest of the way down.

I was so fatigued at this point that I couldn't figure out how to stop the bike and take a break. All I wanted to do was get back to that bike shop and get OFF the bike. Riding for so long in the clouds was messing with my senses. The rushing of wind in my ears during the long descent was deafening and filled my head with a constant buzz. It felt like an ancient form of torture and I wanted to make it stop, but the constant drone was always there. No interaction with other humans to speak of, no normal scenery to see, and the buzz in my head had lulled me into another trance.

Now it was getting entirely too warm for me to be wearing the jacket so I slowly came to a stop and took it off. Trying not to take too much time, lest I never get back on the bike, I cleaned off my glasses so I could put them back on and see for the rest of the way.

As I blasted down down down, I heard a car blowing its horn. Huh? Oh! Oh, thank goodness! It was Raja coming back up to find me. It didn't even occur to me that he would do that, but boy was I happy to see his face! Normally I would never surrender and cut a ride short, but today I didn't hesitate to answer when Raja asked if I was done. "Yes! I'm done, load the bike up please." With only 5 more downhill miles remaining, I didn't really care. All I wanted was to be off my bike and celebrate making it to the top.

Thinking I would be famished and ready to eat a buffet, my appetite was rather suppressed. This is the reaction I used to have after super hard races. It would take me a couple of days before I could eat, and then I couldn't stop eating. My original plan was to have a nice meal and drive to the west side of Maui to watch the sunset. Obviously we weren't going to have time for that since sunset was less than an hour away. But that was okay, I had accomplished what I had set out to do for my birthday.

We headed to Pa'ia, the ultimate hippie town. You've never seen so many affected people in your life. Very entertaining. Our first encounter with Pa'ia was in 1998 and there wasn't much to it. The main street only had one store worth going into and it did not even offer full meals. It was the perfect picture of a sleepy town. Yesteryear's Pa'ia is gone and has been transformed into a green loving, hippie fashion, homegrown, organic, homeschooled, surfers mecca.

Walking down the street, we passed by a grungy looking grocery, Mana Foods, and decided to pop in and take a look-see. Raja was thrilled as this appeared to be the motherload of all grocery stores. It was the store of his dreams.

After cruising the town for somewhere to eat, we both decided we'd rather go back to Mana Foods and eat from the food bar there. Fresh baked bread, homemade brownies, and lots of yummy healthy foods, and we were good to go. That's my idea of a birthday meal! And all for $12. You can't beat that.

Seeing a gelato store on the corner intrigued me. Since nothing says Maui like gelato (?) I was impressed with the selection and taste. It was almost like being in Italy.

I've ridden over 6 hrs today, I think I deserve an extra treat. Mmmm, happy birthday to me!

While I didn't climb Mt. Everest or change a life for an orphan, it was still a momentous occasion for me and a great way to celebrate my birthday. I don't know why I feel the need to do such feats. No one else really cares and it won't change anyone's life. But overcoming personal odds and difficult circumstances are the challenges that keep us going and give us a reason to get up in the morning.

The older I get, the more I realize how precious memories will be to me, and I want to make all the memories I can. With all the money we spent to do this, Raja could have bought me a pretty ring or even a nice bike part. But in the end, these items will eventually fade away and become dated or useless. I don't ultimately care about acquiring things. Things don't bring me happiness or give meaning to my life. It's the memories.

I hold on to all these memories for the humdrum of day to day life. Everyday is not a party. We have routines, boring routines. You may see me going through my monotonous daily routine, but I will also be smiling on the inside as I relive these classic moments and epic trips over and over, dreaming about the next one. There may not ever be a next one, so that's why I cherish the memories I have. That's why I do it.

I cycled to the sun. One cloudy rainy day, I rode my bike 10,000' up to see the glorious sun. It was on my birthday. I remember, because the sun was shining that day, at the top.

On Holiday

2008-12-01T01:25:00.010-05:00

Aloha fellow cycling friends! Raja and I have escaped the cold dreary days of Georgia for a little R&R in Hawaii, but I at least wanted to check in and say hello.

While Hawaii is not a cycling paradise in our book, it doesn't keep us off the trails, of course.

This is by no means, Camp Hillseeker. In fact, it's more like the vacation we needed upon graduation from the fabulous Swiss Cycle-rama. Better late than never.

No time has been wasted though, and a new cyclist was born. We had the privilege of helping this guy take his first spin, and judging from his smile I think he's hooked.

Just because we're relaxing on the beach doesn't mean we're not thinking about our buddies back home.

The weather is here, wish you were beautiful. I mean, you all are beautiful, and we wish you were here!

Here's to a week of sunshine and flowers. See ya when we get back, cause we're on holiday!

Snake bites.......hurt

2008-11-23T13:57:00.031-05:00

For four years now, Raja and I have been riding The Snake. Snake Creek Gap, or The Snake, as we all fondly refer to this delightful trail, is aptly named. Having never been bitten by a snake, I can only imagine how it hurts. If it is anything like the pain of riding The Snake, I can only hope and pray a snake never bites me.

Going on five years now, our local NWGa Sorba chapter has hosted a time trial series on the Snake trail. For some strange reason, it draws a huge crowd of pain loving torture suffering racers. No longer able to be lured into the glory and glamour of racing, Raja and I are content to do the preride of the course which the chapter sponsors each year. Each time we do it, I question my sanity. A year has elapsed since my last encounter, and my memory is fuzzy on the details and I forget that I swore I would never do this again. It all comes back to me once I am back out on the course in my own world of suffering, "Oh yea, I said I wasn't going to do this again."

The forecast for Saturday morning was 20 degrees, and I was none too thrilled about it. But Raja wasn't the least bit affected and was not wavering in his resolve for us to attend. He wanted a long workout, and by golly, he was going to get it. I suggested that we just consume less calories during our day, and therefore not feel the need to exercise so much. He didn't buy into it.

Thank goodness I had my new Sidi winter riding shoes. This was the only ray of sunshine keeping my hope alive for the ride. They had passed the test last Saturday during our cold rainy ride at freezing Springer mountain, so surely they could handle a paltry 20 degrees in sunshine! MarkD and I were both proud to be sporting our purdy warm footwear. You can keep your Jimmy Choos and Monolo Blahniks, all I want are some nice riding shoes!

I had a fancy party to attend last year, and needed shoes to go with my sexy dress. Since my Specialized or Sidis didn't match, I had to resort to my mom's closet which is full of the lastest designs from Rome and Milan. "Here, these Jimmy Choo's will be perfect," she said, and I put them on. That evening a friend swooned and commented, "Oh I love your shoes!" I replied, "They're some weird name like Jimmy Choo or something."
She almost fainted. "You don't know what Jimmy Choo's are," she gasped! "Uh, no, should I? Is he a mountain biker?" Well, I bet she doesn't know about my high fulutin' Sidis, so there. You know you are addicted to cycling when your closet is 80% full of riding shoes priced $100 and up, and 20% full of everyday shoes priced $40 and down. I've got my priorities in order.

So, back to the ride. We had gotten up at 0:darkhundred and 18 degrees, packed the car, and headed to Dalton. Pulling in the parking lot at 7:50, only a few other cars were there. cRASh was sitting in his car with the heater running, and Tweety and Psychobilly pulled in right after. Trying to mask my unhappiness, we all greeted each other with half a snarl and a half smile. Somehow, having friends with which to share your pain makes the suffering bearable. MOMentum and MarkD melted my frozen heart with their warm smiles.

and Namrita consoled me with encouraging words and a hug,

In fact, we all fainted when Eddie and Namrita drove up on time, and ready to go. Surely this was a good sign that extraordinary things would happen today. Or was it just something too good to be true?

Slowly cars trickled in and more hearty riders appeared. Everyone stood in the sun trying to warm themselves while fueling up with lots of hot coffee.

Snake virgin, RexM showed up and loaded his bike on the shuttle with slight trepidation. He said he felt as though a big "doubt" sign was hanging over his head, but I convinced him he would have no problem conquering the Snake. Inwardly I prayed he would have a good ride, because I didn't want him cursing me in the end. I gave him some free advice, and tried to act as casual about it as possible. As long as he paced himself and didn't let his ego run amuck, he would do fine.

With all the bikes loaded on various trailers and in a few trucks, we headed off for the trailhead 45 minutes away. My toe warmers were doing their job in my toasty shoes, and my feet were about to combust during the drive over in the heated truck. In addition to all the insulation, I'm using these nifty little insoles, Bama Alu therm Airtech which amp up the heat factor a good bit. Happy feet means a happy rider, or at least a rider that has one less thing about which to be unhappy given the circumstances.

Unloading the bikes, Namrita made an unsettling discovery. Yep, Matt confirmed emphatically, "that's an 18T cog, Nam."

If ever there was a sign to abort, abort, that was it. We should have all just loaded up the bikes and gone to Waffle House. But instead, we left Namrita in a state of shock and rode off into the frozen woods.

The trail felt knee deep in leaves, and it was imperative to always have someone in front in order to find your way. Rex had asked if he could hang out with us, and I was hoping the pace would be tolerable to allow me to warm up. But as usual, the guys took off and immediately I found myself off the back. It was going to take me hours, literally, to get warmed up and my body was simply not getting in gear. Knowing what lie ahead for the next 4-5 hours, I settled in and tried to find a rhythm.

The long stretch of moderate undulating doubletrack ended and the trail took a right into the singletrack climb. Some of the guys had waited and we took off into the sea of leaves.

The challenge lies not only in climbing and orienteering thru the hidden trail, but in navigating the rocks lying stealthy beneath the innocent layer of leaves. It takes a certain technique to ride blind through the rocks, being always on the ready to react in a split second when your bike gets tossed and thrown. You have to be relaxed and yet alert, so it doesn't help when you're frozen and your body parts move like molasses. This is where the MotoLite shines, and it helped me to traverse through some tricky sections, not all, but a good bit of them.

By now my shifting was buggered and I was growing increasingly irritated with it. Finally I had had enough and decided to ask sherpaman to address the issue. In the meantime, he was having enough troubles of his own. Thinking he had a flat, he slowed down. "No, it's not flat," I said as I did my best to study his tire through the leaves and my watery eyes.

Note to all MotoLite owners, if it feels like a flat, and it's not a flat, then it's something much worse than a flat. Check your swingarm bolt to make sure it has not gone missing. Can you believe it? The second time this has happened to Raja, and this bolt had Loctite!

Fortunate for Raja, he had the foresight to carry along an extra bolt, and was able to remedy the situation. While we littered the trail with bike maintenance, the rest of the riders made their way around us and continued on with the ride.

Raja did his best to fix my shifting, but it needed more help than could be had trailside. "Oh whatever, I'll deal with it. Let's get going," I said. Thinking the group was waiting just up where the trail pops out onto the gravel road, Raja raced ahead. We got to the intersection with no riders to be found. I think Raja was a little irritated that we had gotten unhitched from the train, so he took off that much faster in pursuit. I got irritated that he had bolted off leaving me alone to waller in my self pity.

Passing 3 of the guys changing a flat made me change my tune. I would hate to be changing a flat in this cold weather, and crossed my frozen fingers that it wouldn't happen to me. Time to change my attitude. There was plenty of time to be had for talking to myself. With nothing else to do but make the pedals go round, I had a chat, in my head, of course.

Doing my best to follow what I thought could be the trail, I came to a section that did not look familiar. Oh please don't let me have gotten lost! Oooooo, Raja's going to feel really bad for leaving me now. Think happy thoughts. My legs aren't working. I'm not going very fast. I can't go very fast. This sucks. No, be happy. Be grateful you're able to ride your bike. Think of Hodge, he'd give anything to be out here riding.

The trail crossed the road, and there stood Raja, Eddie, and Namrita waiting. Shew, that's a load off my mind! We continued on climbing.

In all the past attempts of the full 34 miler, I don't recall the first 17 being very hard. In fact, it always seemed easy and we'd breeze right through it in less than 2 hours. Today was not unfolding as I expected. Time was dragging, along with my legs, and the trail seemed over challenging to me. That is never a good sign when something you normally consider easy is no longer easy.

Getting off to walk a section, I became increasingly mad. I NEVER had to walk any of this. What is wrong with you?! That's it. I lost patience with myself and resolved that I would take the road back at the halfway point. I obviously was getting no where fast, so it was no use in prolonging the torture.

The end of the first half has a nice long downhill section, and that's the part you push for. We finally reached it, and I began to calm down. In fact, Raja was riding too conservatively for me, and I wished he'd let it go so we could fly down the trail. Knowing he was taking extra precaution due to the deep leaves and hidden rocks, I still wanted to take my chances and let 'er rip. It was my only consolation for an otherwise wretched performance.

Arriving at the Snake Creek parking lot halfway point, I re-evaluated. Oh, alright, I guess I'll go for it. Hoping I was not making a decision I would later regret, we continued up for the 2nd half.

It was hard to believe there were still leaves on the trees since there were so many littering the trail. But the light streamed through what remained of the last of Autumn even though it felt the dead of winter.

I know this half of the trail much more intimately than the first half, so I could bite it off piece by piece. We played yo-yo with Eddie as he'd catch up with us, ride a little while, then pass by, then wait for Namrita. This is the only time I ever get to "ride with" Eddie. Last year on the Chili Dawg ride he briefly entertained us by riding our pace. Guess he wanted to see how the other half lives;-)

My gel flask had fallen out long time ago, which meant my usual means of fueling was gone. At the last minute I had packed extra bars and gels, so at least I didn't have to mooch off the others. But it also meant I couldn't eat on the fly. Everytime I got hungry, I'd have to stop, take off my gloves, grope underneath 10 layers of jackets and vests and contort my arm to jerk something out of my jersey pocket hoping it would be what I wanted. The upside is, no one seemed to mind stopping for a snack break.

Rex was doing fine so far, but I kept saying things like, "we haven't gotten to the hard part yet, save yourself for the last 5 miles, it will get difficult eventually." He was already on his knees and begging for mercy, so I didn't think his ego would be a problem.

Nah, he was really just stretching his back. The Snake does that to you. Apparently snake bites cause great back pain. The remedy? Stop every once in a while and stretch.

Rex, Robert, Raja, Eddie and I continued on climbing in silence. Finally we got to the doubletrack downhill and enjoyed a brief moment of fun. There are some great rollercoaster rollers once you make the 3 creek crossings, and for a second we hollered with glee. "Why can't it all be like this?" I hollered to Eddie. But the roller coaster ends and the road gradually and gently leads you upward. There was not any chatting to be had and each person settled into their own pace.

At the top of the climb we were greeted with a most welcoming sight.

A nice fire had been made just begging me to curl up and take a snooze. How it teased me, but I did not give in. We were now at what I consider the beginning of the ride. This left turn into the singletrack is where it all starts in my book.

I can't remember the exact time that had passed, but as I looked at my computer it must have been somewhere around 3ish hours. In the past I used to let this fool me into a false sense of security. Heck, at this point you have about 6 miles left and you've only been riding 3 hours. You're home free! Right?

Wrong!! So wrong. The challenge has only just begun. I continually warned Rex that it was only going to get harder from now on so be prepared. Maybe if I hyped this up beyond the truth, he wouldn't think it was all that bad. Only thing is, I was being truthful.

I could not help but recount my experience here last year riding back and forth with Carey. This is the section where we came upon another rider that had completely lost it and was ranting and raving. I understood how he felt, but wasn't so sure he should be venting his internal thoughts in such a manner. Hopefully, today I would not be the one going postal and embarrassing myself in front of the guys.

Raja picked the pace while Rex and I followed behind. All of sudden I decided it was time to go a little faster, and Raja could feel me breathing down his neck. He let me by and I entered a strange zone. I was not feeling empowered by any means, but rather on a mission to get done with this trail. My pedal strokes were still powered in the little chain ring, but pulled me away from the guys nonetheless.

Expecting Eddie to catch up at any moment, he never did. Turns out, Namrita broke her chain. Once fixed, it was so tight you could have played it like a fiddle. Lucky for them, there was a bailout point and they were able to hitch a ride.

We were all having our issues. Rex's front fork practically seized up and was useless. Dave and his group had 5 flats and broken spokes. MarkD's derailleur succumbed to the wrath of a stick. The Snake is notorious for having no mercy. It will keep you humble, that's for sure.

I like riding alone on this last section because it takes a certain amount of focus. It's hard enough to pick your line through the rocks without having to worry with the rider in front of you and if he's going to mess you up. I passed by Robert riding on a hardtail and less than ample front shock and did not envy his bike one bit. Duane was the next rider in the line, and we played tag a little bit before I pulled away. I was wishing the reason I was leading off the front was because I felt strong and my legs were putting out the power. But I did not feel strong at all, and fatigue was setting in on us all. I just happened to be the only one with the most comfortable bike to keep it going.

Psychobilly put it perfectly as we talked later that night about those last 5 miles of the trail. He says the closest we will ever come to being bi-polar is on that trail. As you ride along there is a great battle of dialogue going on inside one's head. "I'm doing this, this rocks, Oh, gawd, these rocks suck, I hate these stinkin' rocks, I can do this, I'm almost done, yea, I feel strong, Oh lord, where are the stupid towers, will I ever see the dumb towers, WHERE ARE THE F*%$# towers? You're doing it baby, this is it, yea, power through those rocks, AH, S#@%* these f&%$# rocks, I can't go any further, Come on, yes, you're riding strong, follow it through, good job, yea, ahhhhhh, is this trail ever going to end?!!!!!"

Of course, I am addressing the normal people here. Not the racers and I have a training regime folks. You can handle the Snake just fine and don't feel the kind of mental and physical pain us little people do. I'm talking to the regularjoes, the working mom, the dad's with wives who resent their biking husbands, those of us who can never aspire to physical eliteness. We want to feel that super human power pulsing through our legs powering us effortlessly over the rock garden. We want to finish the same day we started. We want to be able to stand up at the end and not feel like a branding iron is stuck in our backs. But we don't.

Instead we feel the pain and suffer the agony. And we are all the more stoked when we do finish the ride! We may not crank it out in 3 hrs, but darn it, we did it! And we did it Saturday. Rex did it, all in one piece, with a smile to spare!

34 miles and 4 1/2 hrs later, we all survived. We survived the haunting voices in our heads those last few miles. We looked in vain for those towers to appear on the horizon as the sign to let us know the end was around the bend. And we finally saw them! I hollered outloud to no one in particular, Thank God!

Well done, Duane, Rex, and Robert!

It hurt alot. My back hurt and I was delirious for a good half hour after I finished. Yes, the Snake bite hurts. But it's not fatal. I'm going to live afterall. Probably to do it yet again........in another year. Recovery takes a while.

Post Note:
Speaking of recovery. Look who showed up for the party last night as if not a thing in the world was wrong!

Yep! Ole Hodge has been given the all clear from the doctor to resume normal activities. The only thing is, the doctor isn't clued in on normal activities for folks like us. Everyone knows "normal" means riding a bike, duh. So, technically, Scott can do all normal activities, except ride a bike.

We are SO excited for him and happy that things are moving along so well. Don't forget he still needs your support and encouragement. We all need our friends. Friends like these are hard to come by, and I'm holding on to mine tight!

Rough Transitions

2008-11-16T17:41:00.004-05:00

With each passing year, the transition from lingering summertime weather to the brutality of winter gets more difficult for me. If there could just be a half degree temperature drop ever other day, then perhaps I could slowly adjust to the cold. Nah, I doubt that would even work. The long and short of it is, I do NOT like cold weather, and my dislike for it grows stronger each season. But alas, winter comes whether I like it or not, and this weekend was a rough reminder of what is in store for the next few months.

If you must have pictures at which to look while you read, you will not find them here today. You will have to take a peak at my latest entry on the QuickshotNinja Blogspot for visual entertainment. There is a detailed pictorial of our most epic ride in Switzerland when we conquered 3 passes and 12,000' of climbing in one day (the Grimsel, Furka, and Susten Passes). We fondly refer to it as the Swiss Triple Bypass. Recapping those fantastic memories will give me something to focus on during the dark dreary days of winter.

The past few weeks have not held much riding for me at all. Raja enjoys night riding, so he has been getting in a few rides at Big Creek while I sit at home in the comfort and warmth of our heated house; getting fat, slow, and lazy, but at least I am warm while I do it.

Not only do I dislike cold, I do not enjoy darkness. Being visually challenged to begin with, I have difficulty seeing in the dark with only the aid of a light strapped to my helmet. I see a trend here. I am now a grumpy old woman that can only complain, "It's too cold. It's dark, I can't see. This 3 lb lead battery hurts my back when I ride." What am I going to do with myself?

Suck it up. For 20 years I have been complaining about the same old things. Obviously they aren't going to change, so I guess I will have to do the changing. Well, I ain't gonna change, but I suppose I can do my best to deal with it and keep the whining to a minimum.

Saturday morning Raja woke me up from a deep deep slumber, and I contemplated rolling over and resuming my luxurious sleep. Instead, I grumpily got up, and readied myself for a mountain bike ride without uttering one word the entire time. He declared that we were going up to Ellijay for the Chili Dawg ride. It was going to be too windy for us to join Cam and Rlaz for a road ride, so a mtn bike ride on dirt roads would be the saner option.

We were the first to roll in at 9:30 to the Big Creek Fire Station. We were still the only ones sitting there at 9:59. Where was everyone? A little rain and cold weather never stopped these people before. The first Chili Dawg ride we did last year was in the exact same conditions and there were a cast of thousands in the parking lot when we arrived. Oh well. We're here, so let's ride.

We drove a few miles down the road to the bottom of Springer Mountain, parked, and suited up. At the last minute I decided to take my wind breaker, thinking I would not need it until the last 3 mile descent. What a wise decision that ended up being.

It was cold to begin with and the forecast was for dropping temperatures. I put on a base layer, long sleeve jersey, vest, and jacket, and it still was not enough to keep me warm on the ride. At least I had my new Sidi winter shoes. This was their first ride, and I was never so happy to have a new pair of shoes!

The road up Noontoola and over Springer was soft, muddy, and laborious. It rained off and on the entire time, and even sleeted on us. The wind blew brutally cold air and we laughed at ourselves over the absurdity of what we were doing. I found myself singing the Camp Hillseeker song, "happy happy happy, climb climb climb" in hopes that it would lift my spirits. I cannot wait until the hot days of summer return. Give me heat, I can handle that.

We survived a whopping 20 miles and just over 2 hours. That particular route is probably the coldest spot in the area, so why do we always do it in the wintertime? We should be doing it in the summertime when we're begging for a cool place to ride. I only associate Noontoola/Springer with cold, ice, and mud.

Today was just as cold, but at least the sun was shining. We went south to Dauset for the poker ride by OMBA. My legs felt much better today, and it did not rain on us. The Captain led us on a mad chase to find all 9 punches, so it kept my mind off how cold I was. We laughed and had a good ole time and raced from station to station. With barely over an hour of riding, we were done. Normally, I'd be begging for someone to keep riding with me, but not today. I haven't made that transition yet to enduring the cold. Maybe I'll make it eventually, just not this weekend. These transitions are hard!

This week is supposed to be cold, so I seriously doubt I'll do a night ride. Besides, I have work to do. There are over 150 dozen Rocky Road Bars in my fridge that need to be shipped out.

I do not miss those days of cranking out the chocolate. This is the busiest time of year for a confectioner, and it makes it next to impossible to stay on the bike. Chocolate....cold weather......too many things to keep me off the bike. Somethings gotta give. Ooooo, transitions are rough!

A Cord of Three Strands...

2008-11-09T16:07:00.033-05:00

"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work; If one falls down, his friend can help him up....A cord of three strands is not quickly broken." Ecclesiastes 4:9,10,12.

You can judge alot about a person from the friends he has. Judging from his huge network of devoted friends, Scott Hodge is one incredible person. October 16th, Scott survived a terrible motorcycle accident, and since then he has been surrounded by family and friends lavishing him with love and support.

When you put as much into the cycling community as he has, you reap the benefits. Right now, Scott could use all the benefits he can get, and we are all on a mission to see that he gets them. PBC put out the call, and on Saturday, a boat load of mountain bikers gathered at Ft. Yargo in Winder to ride, chill, and most importantly show Scott and his family that we are here for them.

After riding the fun singletrack trails of Ft. Yargo, we all hung out at the pavillion while Anne, Trev, Mindy, and Rusty grilled burgers and hotdogs for the hungry athletes.

We all know the voracious appetite a cyclist has after tearing up the trails. Thanks to the generosity of many folks, there was plenty of food for everyone.

We all a great time out on the trails. The leaves are still changing and it makes such a beautiful canvas of color with the morning light streaming through the trees.

The hands down favorite part of the trail was the gully drop, and I had a hard time keeping my boyz focused on the rest of the ride. Around they went in circles doing the horseshoe drop over and over. Dropping in......

and flying up the other side.

"Whoohoo! Let's do it again!" Squealing like little kids on a playground they played in the drops lined with confetti of Fall colors.

If I had not cracked the whip, The Captain would still be there going up and down!

Enough! Come on boyz, lets enjoy the rest of the trail. And off we went on the fabulous zippy singletrack.

Everybody was there! Racey Tracey is now back on the bike after her accident! Yahoo! Peanut did 2 laps on her singlespeed...impressive!! Lots of beautiful mtn bike chics were present: Aimee, Kate, Robin, Mindy, Pebbles, Badge, Amy, Tina and Jenn to name a few. Some guys were there too; The Clogger, Mattycakes, Tweety, iride, Sammichkilla, Millhouse, Ony, Joel, Jan, rlaz, Flatfender, Pinkpuss, Tim, Chris, Carebear, Speedy, JungleBoy, Blair, Grog, Jake, regularjoe, Colin, Robb, MarkD, Jim, Phillip....the list goes on and on and on.

Some are fast riders, some are slow, and lots are in between. But the thing we all have in common is we love to ride our bikes and share in the camaraderie it brings. Nobody knows that better than Scott. He makes that passion possible for so many riders and racers through Addictive Cycles.

Today's focus was not the ride, it was about family. It didn't matter if you were a cyclist or not, all were welcome. Tequila Rose brought her mother visiting from Minnesota. It was an honor to meet her and also the wives and children of the great guys with which I ride every weekend.

Fresh, young faces on the scene, like Millhouse, and us old worn out has beens, we all need and thrive on the support of our friends in the cycling community.

That's why we are happy to donate to this worthy cause, and I hope all of you out there will be inspired to do so as well. No amount is too small. It's real easy to do through paypal on the Addictive website.

You may be thinking, "yea right, I don't even know this guy." Actually, technically, I've never met Scott. He doesn't know me from Adam's house cat. But he's a good friend of MY friends, and that's good enough for me. We live way on the other side of the Atlanta universe from Addictive, and our paths never cross, but we're still a part of his family. Therefore, we do what family does, we support each other through the good and the bad.

He's well known and highly respected in the mountain biking industry, as the news of his accident affected more than just those of us in Georgia. He's an integral part of the cycling community, so that means we're family. I watched Scott with his family, wife, Deb, and 2 girls, Sarah and Hannah. It was easy to see the love they have for each other. There's nothing stronger than the bond of love. Scott is a lucky guy.

When an accident strikes one of our own, it makes us all realize how precious life is. We come together not only in celebration of Scott's life and progress in healing, but to join forces. Life is fragile, and we need to handle it with care. Careful to share in our resources, give freely of our smiles and encouragement, and always be thankful for the moment you have.

Scott, you're going to be alright. A cord of 3 strands, well, more like 1,000+ in your case, will never break!

Tour de Coop

2008-11-06T11:31:00.014-05:00

With all the hoopla and posting over our Swiss Hillseeker camp, I failed to report on the most important mission of the whole trip. The Tour de Coop.

The Tour de Coop is an exclusive Tour, and we are the only participants. We are the only people strange enough to do it. There is no entry fee, no fancy kit issued, and no sag support. You take this on at your own risk and you decide when it's over.

Since no one ever knows when I'm serious (which is not often) and when I'm joking, from this point on, I will give it all to you straight up. No metaphors, no stretching the truth, and no kidding around. This is a truthful account, and I have no shame in telling you.

In 2000 on our first trip to Italy, we had our first taste of this yummilicious chocolate bar bought in the local supermarket of Greve. It was love at first bite, and no other bar has won our hearts over like this one. Funny, it's akin to coming to the United States and going to Publix to buy the store brand candy bar. Only this store label chocolate is truly divine, and we have found no other to be its equal.

Each year during our trip to Italy, we would pop in a local Coop to buy a handful of chocolate bars to take back home. By 2005, the number we would acquire had grown. Then in 2006 we got real serious and brought along an empty suitcase dedicated to the smuggling of Italian delicacies. 2007's trip yielded us about 80 bars, but in 2008 we were ready to break all records. We were on a mission.

Now, what does this all have to do with my Life on a Bike, you may be wondering? Everything! When I'm out riding for 5 and 6 hours up 40,000' mountains, there's one thing that keeps me going. The thought of getting back home to indulge in my beloved Coop bar is the fuel that makes these little legs keep spinning.

By August, our arsenal was down to 3 bars, and this trip was our only hope to restock. The problem was, we were going to Switzerland, and the chocolate can ONLY be found in Italy. We were not about to let a little country stand in our way of happiness.

We conveniently planned a weekend getaway with Becky and Jeff to northern Italy under the guise of showing them some rides in the Dolomites. Leaving early Friday morning, hours before they were to join us, we headed to the border as fast as we could. We had about an 8 hour jump on these two and had to hit as many stores as possible before they joined us in Castelrotto. There was no time to waste.

With an Euro GPS card, we figured we could find some Coop stores in the town of Bolzano near our final destination of Castelrotto. After driving through Lichtenstein and Austria, we finally arrived just before noon. The dreaded lunch time in Italy means stores are closed and cars clog the tiny streets. In utter frustration, we wandered aimlessly for a half hour without finding the first Coop store.

In desperation, we made a rash decision. An hour and a half hour drive further south to Lago di Garda was familiar territory for us where we could find a number of Coop stores with our eyes closed. With little discussion over the matter, we took off for the autostrada in mad pursuit. Time was now really ticking away, and we would barely be able to make it back before our teammates arrived to meet us.

By now, we've been driving for well over 5 hours, we're famished, and crankiness is setting in rapidly. There was no time to stop for a snack, we would have to hold off to the Coop and grab something there. According to our calculations, by the time we would arrive to our Tour de Coop destination, the stores would still not be open for another hour. We could use that siesta time to scarf down some gelato to energize ourselves for the mad dash.

Arriving in town, we were thrilled to see the signs announcing the new store hours. For the first season since we have been coming, the store remained open all day. Can you imagine the mayhem grocery stores in Georgia would cause if they all closed between 12:30-3:00 every day!?! It may be the Italian way, but it sho wouldn't cut the mustard down South.

No time for a gelato break. We bolted into the stores as quick as we could cram our "midsize" rental car into a compact parking space. Raja would grab a basket as I bolted ahead to hunt down the aisles. "Here, here they are!"

"Hurry, quick, get them all!"

Faster than you could say grits and jowls, Raja counted the bars as he flung them in the basket.

"How many this time," I'd ask. He'd report the total and I'd tally up the euros, as we did not want to waste any time at the checkout. The register clerk would look at us like we were crazy and begin to count. "Trentadue" or "ventiquattro" I'd say, and sure enough she'd repeat the total as if in disbelief.

We'd deposit the stash in the trunk and head off to the next Coop, hitting as many as we could.

We filled our baskets at as many stores as time allowed. After we broke the 100 mark, we stopped to think about it. Uh, yea, we have to get these things back home. Are we going to have enough room?

We called it quits at 109. It would have been 110 except for one inquisitive shopper whose suspicions were aroused by our behavior. She had observed our shopping frenzy and decided that this particular chocolate bar must be worth a try. As she snitched a bar quickly, she said to us, "this must be really good so I better get one!" Darn that signora.

We laugh when we think of the confusion we must cause in inventory. Every Fall, in one day, there's an inexplicable mad rush on a chocolate bar.

Once we survived the grueling Tour de Coop, we could enjoy our grocery store encounters. Raja's favorite part is the produce department. Yet another example of "why don't we do it like this in the U.S.?" You pick your produce, set it on the scale, punch in the corresponding number code, and poof, a label with a UPC price code pops out to stick on the bag.

We are so easily entertained, and it's like a game for us to go shopping. In fact, this is the only kind of "shopping" I do in Europe. With all our time spent riding bikes and hoarding chocolate, there's no time left to look for souvenirs. That is fine with me, because I am NOT a shopper. The groceries and bakeries get my attention. Look at all the pretty colors! I love it!

So, that's it. The Tour de Coop. Never heard of it? Now you have! And just cause you know there's about 50 lbs of good chocolate at my house, don't go getting any ideas. I ain't sharing. I may be little, but don't even try to get between me and my chocolate. Just ask Raja. I can get pretty nasty if you move in on that territory!

Before you sign out, check out the picture post of the training ride we did to prepare for the Tour de Coop. I wish you happy shopping and if you ever see me in the grocery aisle with a wild look in my eye, get outta my way. I may be pretending I'm in Italy on a secret quest!

Napolean & a Dyno-Might Day

2008-11-01T22:08:00.032-04:00

Eddie and Namrita organized a Happy Halloween Bash weekend at Mulberry Gap this weekend which included a day of riding on the Pinhoti trail. Even though the Chili Dawg Series rides started today, we could not resist the siren call of our favorite trail. So we headed off to Mulberry early this morning to join our mountain biking buds.

Last weekend's Fall colors were at their peak, but bursts of yellow and a little red still linger on painting a serene setting through which to ride.

There was quite a crowd gathered, and lots of new faces for us to meet. I promptly forgot everyone's name, so I will not even try to recount lest I make a complete fool of myself. I almost fainted when Rlaz came rolling in to join the ride. No amount of coercion could convince him lately to come on our mtn bike rides, especially this trail with the switchbacks of doom. He must have had so much fun with us last weekend at Gaptoberfest that he simply wanted to bask in our greatness (or something like that).

cRASh set the mood with his Napolean Halloween costume, and we pedaled out of camp towards Shakerag Road. It has been a long time since I have carried the DSLR in my camelbak, but today I decided to give it a go. The Pinhoti trail is probably the most difficult trail on which to get good shot, so I figured a little classwork was necessary. I have been lazy in my photography and my mind is going soft. My attitude was not the greatness, and I hoped things would get better.

My legs were slow to come to the party as we rode down Shakerag Road to Bear Creek Campground Rd. A photoninja needs spry legs, so this meant I would have to take on a new strategy. While riders regrouped at various points, I took advantage of the lull in action and rode ahead to find a strategic spot on the trail.

Climbing solo through the woods in early morning silence suited me just fine today. I set up on a fast section and enjoyed watching everyone come flying through the turns.

But I made sure to be hooked onto the Duckman, Raja, Captain Train for the downhills. I am comfortable keeping pace with Cyclesmith, because I know we'll live to see another day. But as for this guy, uh, I'd rather not try and keep chase with him.

Eddie and Namrita came blazing through on Pinhoti 1. Out of the way! Racers coming through! We did see Nam again briefly on P3!

The cool morning air was warming up a little bit as the light streamed through the trees still laden with the last of the Autumn leaves. I don't know what it was about today, but the trail seemed magical and I was truly enjoying my ride.

I wasn't the only one enjoying myself today. Chet was grinning from ear to ear, as was everyone else that rode by me as I crouched in the foliage snapping shots.

On the toughest part of the climb, and Emil is all smiles! Mtn biking will do that to you!

One of the reasons you smile on this trail is because you know what comes after the climb. The downhill! The fun fast downhill. No picture taking there, I'm all about letting it rip and indulging myself 100% with riding.

We all made it down the P1 downhill without incident (to my knowledge) and headed on towards Pinhoti 2. You do have to concentrate a little bit to insure you make it down in one piece.

The little creek crossing at the bottom was not a worry for us yet, as it wasn't too deep and the temperature was rising. Despite a bum knee, Ony was able to get in a good run on P1 and P2.

The start of P2 is a gradual climb on a gravel road leading to a gradual climb on doubletrack.

I purposely frolicked through "thaaa weeeeeeeeds" in honor of our new English friend, Kate.

"Loooorrreeeee, thaaaaay'r just weeeeeeeeeeds," is now the standard line everyone hollers out to me at random on a ride. Makes me laugh everytime.

Pinhoti 2's downhill was savored and enjoyed and celebrated with great jubilation. As riders pop out at the bottom, they hoot and holler and you hear over and over, "I love that downhill, That is so much fun, I had a blast!"

With the adrenaline still flowing, it was time to head up Conasauga Road to the Pinhoti 3 trailhead. Time to climb, again. Gotta work for those downhills. They don't come free.

Duckman's goal was to make it all in his middle ring. I think he came pretty close to it.

MarkD was feeling just as spry as Duck and charged hard up the climbs.

The trail was in perfect condition. Beautiful, absolutely stunning.

The light, the colors, everything was perfect.

Raja is forever pushing the pace, and led The Captain and Clogger up the last pitch of the P3 climb.

Sweetwater had a video rigged up to his helmet, so I look forward to seeing some documentation of the ride!

Finally we made it to the top of that loooooooong climb. Some chilled while waiting for everyone to arrive.

We ride as hard as we rest. We're just a bunch of kids at heart and we all love to play in the dirt on our bikes.

Rest time was over. Time to blast back down P3 for our reward.

It was such a beautiful day for riding, and not all of us were ready to stop even though Mulberry Gap Camp was just a mile or so away from the bottom of our descent. Last time we rode here with Toccoa Fred, no one took me up on my offer to ride back up P2 for a rerun. I wasn't about to be rejected again, so I kept my mouth shut even though the thought was running through my mind. Imagine my surprise when regularjoe pipes up, "Does anybody want to go back up P2?"

Expecting groans and moans, I was stunned to hear a few chime in with a "Sure, why not?!" With such a gorgeous day, it seemed a crime not to spend every moment out riding. So MarkD, Cyclesmith, Robin, Joe, Raja, and I headed to P2 for a little extra credit. We were so impressed with ourselves that we had to take a group shot;-)

The P2 downhill was just as much fun, if not more fun the second time down for the day. With 32 miles, about 4400' climbing, and just shy of 4 hrs ride time, our little crew headed back to the barn to hang out with the rest of the gang at Mulberry Gap Camp.

Our legs were toast, but our hearts were happy! Everyone had a great day on the trail, and it was fun to sit around and hear the different stories of each person's adventure. I could do this for a living!

Just another typical day on the trail with Raja and Chocolate Girl. Always a Napolean Dyno-Might Day! hehehe

Gaptoberfest 2008!

2008-10-26T20:04:00.037-04:00

Who needs Octoberfest in Munich, when Gaptoberfest is right here in our backyard!? Some Atlanta roadies began a Gapfest weekend in Helen a few years ago, and the 4th annual celebration coincided with Frau Buggy and Herr Gustav's stateside visit from Switzerland. Knowing these two celebrities can get you into high places, and we received the coveted invitation to join in the fun.

Even though we had just seen Becky and Jeff less than 2 months ago, we were thrilled to see them again so soon! Camp Hillseekers reunion!

Enough with the greetings though....Raja, I need your help! This bike needs a new tire, water bottle cages, handlebar tape......
Sherpaman mechanic to the rescue.

The morning air was very brisk, and we weren't too sure how many layers to wear. The sky was crystal clear and the sun was shining, so surely we'll be warm in no time.

What's that I hear? An Alphorn? Maybe we're in Switzerland afterall!

Buggy and Gustav packed up their Alphorns, and we rolled out of Helen.

Happy, happy, happy, climb, climb, climb. This was our Swiss Camp Hillseeker mantra, and it was the song we would be singing today. We would need all the encouragement we could get, because our first climb of the day was Hogpen.

We were meeting some new faces today, but also getting a chance to say hello to familiar faces. Longtime riding friend, Sid, was there with his new bride, Jody.

We took a gorgeous backroad out of Helen that led us to Hogpen in no time. Nothing like a 15 minute warm up for the hardest 7 mile climb in Georgia! Even though today was a casual ride, each person settled into their own pace for the ascent.

Hogpen is not exactly a climb you saunter up while casually chatting. Those with fresher legs sprinted ahead, while others found a more reasonable pace. The wind was blowing hard, and wispy clouds whisking across the horizon above made for a dramatic affect to the sound of my heavy breathing.

Raja was still reaping the benefits of Camp Hillseeker and set a pace I could not match. My roadie friends, Rlaz and Damyankee, raced ahead as well, and I could only watch as they all pulled away.

This was the supreme Gaptoberfest package, as we had our own personal photographers and support crew. BeckyM and Bernadette were around every corner snapping pictures, carrying water & food, and taking care of any other need we had.

We climbed, and climbed, and climbed!

and climbed,

and sang, happy, happy, happy,

while we climbed, climbed, climbed.

The sun felt fabulous and actually made me hot at times. I learned my lesson a long time ago, and peeled down my arm warmers so they would not get soaking wet. I'll need them to be dry when I get to the top and it's freezing cold.

Becky is use to the colder weather, and didn't need all the warm gear the rest of us had. Those Swiss Fraus are tough cookies!

When you see the mile 7 marker, you know you've made it. That's the top of this bugger of a hill, and the pain is over. Sean leads Jeff and Raja to the top, whoohoo, you made it!!

Everybody knows that when you conquer a climb in Georgia, you break out your Alphorn and give it the ole celebratory song. Despite the freezing temps, Jeff and Becky still played us a wonderful concert.

Some of us even gave it a go as well. How hard can it be to play an Alphorn?
Ricola!

With the concerts over and frostbite setting in, it was time to start down in search of more gaps to climb. But first, we had to document the moment.

The descent is beautiful this time of year with all the colors, but dang it was cold. Normally, I would be quite upset over the frigid conditions. But after my stint at Camp Hillseeker in the real Alps, I was not that worried. This descent would only be a few minutes, as opposed to the 30-45 minute downhills we had in Chocolate Land. I toughed it out. No biggie.

Our next "gap" was Craigs Gap.

This is probably one of my favorite roads in North Georgia.

It is funny how we ride by cows here all the time, but I have never taken note of it. However, when in Switzerland or Italy, I freak out, oooooo & awwwww, and take pictures of the bell clanking creatures. I have decided to appreciate Georgia cows more and not hold it against them that their owners do not have the sense to put bells around their necks.

From Craigs Gap, we went up Jacks. That is when Jeff's tire decided to explode, but fortunately we had a support vehicle! Up until that point, we were having a grand time.

In spite of that little glitch, the party continued and we pedaled on to climb Unicoi. Rich sprinted ahead to summon the sag wagon, while Brian and John got extra points by climbing Brasstown. I opted out of the Brasstown excursion to stay with the socializing crowd. Besides, Raja and I did Brasstown a few weeks ago. That has already been checked off my list.

The Fall colors were gorgeous all day, and I enjoyed the scenery even though it was a blustery day. Normally this time of year you would never find me on my road bike. The wind plus the road do not mix well for me, but today was an exception. Riding my bike, whether road or mountain, is all about having fun, and we were having fun with some good friends.

With 42 miles and 3 hours, our Gap time on the bike was over, but the Fest part was still in full swing. We ate and laughed, while others soaked in the jacuzzi. Alpa, Brian, and Becky even carved a pumpkin!

While we were celebrating Gaptoberfest, all of Helen was celebrating Octoberfest. So, we strolled into town to join the throngs of people. The street was jammed with cars cruisin' and the sidewalks packed with tourists. We found a good spot for a concert and set the Swiss Alphorn players loose.

At first, people were not sure what to make of these two.

But then the crowds slowly gathered and the festivities began.

Japanese and American tourists alike were snapping photos and everyone clapped after each song. Then the tips starting coming, a dollar here, a dollar there. Hmmmm, maybe we're on to something!

A few onlookers were bold and wanted to try their hand at playing. This one guy was hilarious and had us rolling in the floor laughing.

This young kid was not the least bit bashful and stepped up to play. Playing alone was not enough for him. He insisted that Becky join him and they played quite a concert!

What a treat to have these 2 talented musicians entertain us. Helen has no idea what greatness has graced its streets!

What a fabulous day it turned out to be! It was a real treat to make some new friends and to ride the beautiful roads of North Georgia. Thanks to master organizer, John, and for letting us be a part of Gaptoberfest 2008! We hope to ride with you all again soon. And if you ever want to go mountain biking..........!

With a full agenda for Sunday, we had to leave the party and head back home. But not without sneaking in a brief mountain bike ride with The Captain, Robin, Ony, Jan, Speedy, and Maurizio this morning at Blankets. It felt great to be on the dirt, even though my legs were protesting the whole way. Oh yea, I climbed Hogpen yesterday. That's why they're tired!

Happy Gaptoberfest!

Hope to see you all on the trails soon!

Riding with the Regular Joes

2008-10-19T20:59:00.023-04:00

In just two days I went from riding with the Pros to riding with the regular Joes. Ah, such is life. Yes, MY life! A life filled with a cast of colorful characters, never ending adventures, and loads of laughter. I am quite content to ride with the regular joes of this world. Besides, I am just a regular girl.

After Thursday's ride on the Pinhoti with Krista and the gang, I only had one day to recover in preparation for Saturday's rerun on the trail. A visit to Janusz on Friday helped get the kinks out of my back, and I was ready for more. Saturday morning was like a deja vu as we pulled into Mulberry Gap Campground, the same meeting point as my last ride.

The big difference this time was the temperature. Saturday greeted us with some cooler weather, and I was trying hard not to be testy. Anything below 70 degrees is TOO cold for me. That's when I get mean and downright cranky, whenever I am cold. The morning sky was crisp and clear, so I knew the sunshine would melt away my ill pill humor.

We were to meet some new faces today. Fred, a mtn biker from Toccoa, had come over to spend the weekend checking out the trails, and he had a group of fellow cyclists from their UC3 club along for the ride. We did not know Fred, but he was lurker on the Sorba forum and had asked Cyclesmith to be their tour guide. Not knowing if Fred was a psycho ax-murderer, Cyclesmith called us in as backups in case things got ugly and witnesses were needed for the investigation.

Turns out these guys were good as gold, and the only thing they were guilty of was spending more time in the hot tub than on the trail.

Introductions were made, arm warmers were donned, and the ride began. Today we turned right out of the camp on Conasaga Road in order to take Shakerag Rd back to Bear Creek for the climb up Pinhoti 1. The same pretty colors were there as they were 2 days ago. I was just glad we were not starting off with a 5 mile climb this time.

The air was brisk, but it was not bad at all. I can handle this, but not a degree colder, please.

Fred was giddy with excitement. He says they have great trails where he lives, but after a while you get tired of riding by yourself. Come ride with us! You're sure to have a Fantastic Time, satisfaction guaranteed, or your money back.

With 10 of us, and 7 of them, I had already forgotten names. Name tags should be mandatory anytime you meet new riders. It has taken me a year to learn the names of my best buddies I ride with every weekend that were with me now; Robin, Kevin, Robb, Marty, Joe, and Ony. And to confuse me further, Ony brought his brothers, Joel and Jan, that I've only ridden with a few times. It was pointless, and before the day was through I had renamed Craig to Keith, and could not remember anyone else correctly but Fred. They all ignored my dementia.

In addition to a constant stream of new bikes, Robb has another new toy to add to his bin; a Nikon DSLR. I recognize the symptoms, since I too suffer from them, and just smiled as he dashed off constantly to snag photos of us riding. Joe also had along his DSLR, and I felt as though a load had been lifted off my shoulders. Knowing these two would take over photoninja duties for the day was honestly a relief for me. It was fun for me to observe them all day.

Robb is young and full of energy, while Joe is a little more laid back;-) It is nice to see a ride from another point of view.

Even though we were taking the usual tried and true route starting up Bear Creek to P1, it's always great fun.

The sun began to warm things up a bit, but hopefully not enough to make the snakes come out and play. I couldn't help but look as we passed near where Krista saw Mr. Snake on Thursday, as if he'd be sitting there waiting for me. Silly girl.

Despite the fact these were not the Pros, the pace was just as brisk as Thursday's ride. Regular Joes and Freds, Experts, Pros, it doesn't really matter who you ride with because we all seem to push each other.

I was quite impressed with Chris and Craig as they were riding downhill bikes, and we were not on the downhill yet! Chris had a blast anytime we hit the descents and hollered like a kid in a candy shop.

I am used to Robb and his obsession with riding reclining sofas on our cross country rides. He has the energy to spare, and needs to spend it somewhere!

But for crying out loud, Craig was on a 34lb Giant Reign 6" travel bike with 2.5" tires and he was killing it on the climbs. Impressive indeed. Fred was right there with us as well on the climbs, and still riding strong even when we got to P3. I question whether or not these were regularjoes or were they really Pros?

The downhills were rewarding as always, and Raja and Craig were challenging us all as they charged full speed ahead. I was still feeling a bit confident on my downhills and tried to push it as much as I could without killing myself. Trying to stay on Raja's wheel is a dangerous endeavor for me, but when the right juices are flowing I will give it my best shot.

The Toccoa guys were grinning like school boys, especially after we completed the Pinhoti 2 run. If you can't have fun on that downhill, then you need to seriously reconsider another sport, and just go ahead and give me your bike.

We climbed all the way to the top of P3 and then bombed back down P3 to Conasaga Road. Of course we had to run into some other riders along the way. We got to see our friends, Larry and Gary. We knew Larry was out here, since he had talked to us the night before and was hoping to hook up with us. After saying our hellos, we later ran into Scubacruz and Lori who were also out enjoying the Fall foliage.

26 miles, 3700' climbing, and 3 hrs later, the hot tub was calling. No one took me up on my offer to climb back up Pinhoti 2, and we headed back to Mulberry Gap. Chris had managed to bend his derailleur earlier in the ride, but somehow salvaged it to the last second. Literally, as we topped out at the last rise of the road before the descent to the camp, his hanger went - POP! Wow, timing is everything!

While some had their beer in the hot tub, others had PBJ's and beer by the fire. Mulberry Gap has it going on with a great setting with which to end a ride. The guys were going to get a nice dinner at 6:00, but we had to head back to civilization. It was fun to hang around the campfire and chat with our new friends.

As we were driving home, Psychobilly, Aimee, Eddie, Namrita, and a few others were driving up to spend the night at Mulberry. I bet they had a great ride today up there. Ooooo, I'm jealous.

But we had a great time Saturday! It was a treat to meet you guys; Fred, Craig, Keith, Danny, Chris, John, and Brad. I hope we get to all ride again soon. For "regular guys", ya'll are way cool!

Today was even colder than yesterday, so I did not spend much time on the bike. Raja is not the least bit affected with cold temps, so he rode at Blankets in the 52 degree morning air while I stayed in the warmth. He rode early because he had something important to do today.

If we did not spend our Life on a Bike, it would be Life in the Air. This is Raja's other fascination. It is pretty darn cool. That would be the dream.

I'm glad we live Life on a Bike though. I can't imagine trying to chase the guys around in an F18!!!

Riding with the Pros

2008-10-16T18:03:00.035-04:00

Ever since our Swiss debut as Euro Pros last August, word has spread quickly across the pond, and our expertise is now in high demand. Night and day the phone rings off the hook with Pros pleading for a chance to ride with us in order to see such greatness up close and personal. All the guys want me and the girls want to be me. It's tough being a superstar.

Mountain bike super pros, Krista Park and Carey Lowery, were banging on my door all week begging me to play hooky on Thursday and ride with them at Pinhoti. Finally I relented and decided to throw together a quick Mtn Bike 101 clinic for them. Twenty of us congregated at the peaceful retreat of Mulberry Gap Campground for a day of playing hooky.

We wasted no time in establishing female dominance. It is best that the guys know who is in charge!

You can clearly see in this picture that Krista just could not match me and my blinding sprinting power. Laina and I took this sprint easily, but Krista did not give up.

She hung on to my rear wheel as hard as she could and gave it her best shot. I felt sorry for her and let up on the pace after the first climb.

Okay, before some of you get upset, YES, I am kidding. If you know me at all, you know that I cannot be serious for longer than a nano second and tend to make any situation a silly one at best. So, now that I have gotten the silliness out of my system, I will give you the REAL story for the day;-)

A Let's Play Hooky Day had indeed been organized for Thursday with Krista's presence being the impetus for the plan. If one Pro is good, then surely two would be better. Carey added her star power to the list and those of us brave enough to ride with them showed up eager to enjoy the beautiful Autumn day.

I know Krista by default from our crazy BOD family. Usually she's living out West and tearing up the race circuit full time, so it is not often we get to see her. Carey and I met last year during a Snake Time Trial Preride. We shared a funny experience together that day when we passed by another rider having a total meltdown on top of the mountain. It still makes me laugh to think about the two of us riding by quietly with wide eyes hoping this madman wouldn't turn on us and go postal. Carey and Lisa raced the TransRockies this year and totally dominated pulling out an impressive win.

I have nothing but respect and admiration for these two women and was honored to get to join in the ride. They are pleasant and approachable and do not suffer from I Think I am So Awesome that I Cannot Talk to You Syndrome. Like I always say, mountain bikers are cool like that whether you are a super star or not. We all get along well and play nicely together.

CookieM was our unofficial official ride leader, and she led us from the camp to the long 4 mile climb up to the Overlook. Or was it 5 miles?
Mr. Dusack wasn't afraid to spend the day with the ladies (of course, Mrs. D was along to keep him in line).

PBC can always be found where there is a good mtn bike ride!

Krista was probably wondering what she had gotten herself into!
I'll tell you what she was getting into: some fun fabulous singletrack riding, that's what!

Suzy and PJ were there!

Lady D was pleased with how Mr. Dusack behaved with so many ladies around him.

This time of year is a delight to the eyes with all the colors. The temperature was perfect for me, and it really did not feel like a Fall day. If it had not been for the changing leaves, you would have thought it was still summer.

I was so busy chatting that I did not realize how quickly the climb had passed. Thinking we were still at a few switchbacks down, I told Krista this was the last stretch. Oh, wait a minute! We're already at the Overlook! I love it when a climb goes by fast like that!

This sure beats sitting in an office and working.

We enjoyed the view for a while before continuing on to the upper singletrack section of Bear Creek.

Carey rode down the gnarly singletrack to show us how the real Experts do it! Seriously, check out her form here for a little mtn bike 101. Her weight is back and low. See how relaxed her upper body is? Look at her head position. Her chin is level, turned and pointed in the direction of the trail ahead. She's not looking down at the trail in front of her. Very nice form. Thank you, Carey.

Loretta's been racing strong all year.

Our fearless, always smiling leader, Aimee!!

Chris was having fun!

I met Jenn for the first time today. She impressed me as she tackled this section with no hesitation at all. At the bottom of Bear Creek, she was grinning from ear to ear! "How'd you like it?" Aimee asked her. "This is Great," she exclaimed with enthusiasm!

This will be the last of the rides where we don't have to fret over getting our feet wet in the creek crossings. Cold weather is coming soon:-( But today we were having a blast ripping down the trail, zipping through the creeks.

At the bottom of Bear Creek, some of us took a right and climbed up Pinhoti 1, while others took Bear Creek Campground Rd around to join up with us for Pinhoti 2. Krista casually pointed out a snake to me as we rolled right by it. If she hadn't of said anything, I would have never noticed. Neither did anyone else. As the wheels went by, I said to the riders, "you realize you just rode by a snake?"

"Huh? Really? Where?"

Right there!

Just a black snake. No worries. Last ride I did, we passed by Llamas. No llamas today. Just a snake and pretty yellow leaves.

Pinhoti 2 is everyone's favorite, and today I was dreaming about it. About the downhill. I was selfish and made sure it was all mine. Without the pressure of Rocket Raja breathing down my neck, I wanted the pleasure of being first in line to bomb down what is the most fabulous of downhills in the State. What a rush! I had an absolute Ball! Although I hear Gail did not have as much fun as I did, especially when she did a face plant. Brigette reported on her blog that she's going to be okay. I'm so sorry, Gail! We wish you a speedy recovery.

Suzy, Loretta, PBC, Krista, and Carey were still up for more riding after P2, and took the turn up Pinhoti 3. Even though my legs were protesting slightly, I could not resist following them up the singletrack, mostly because I knew we'd get another fun downhill coming back down it. We went up the first climb of P3 and then turned around for the rollercoaster descent. Whoohoo!

Our three hour tour turned out successfully, and we headed back to Mulberry Gap. This is the closest I will ever get to riding with the Pros, which is just fine with me. I cannot possibly manage being a Euro Pro AND a Mtn Bike Pro at the same time.

What a perfect way to play hooky! I can't say that I've ever ridden with that many females before, now that I think about it. I am used to being the only girl, or one of a few in a sea of males. Pretty cool! Thanks Sorella, Aimee, and Krista for putting together such a great ride.

Diane & Ginnie of Mulberry Gap served up a fine lunch, and some of us even enjoyed some time in the hot tub (notice Anne's wet hair). What a luxurious way to end a ride!

I enjoyed meeting some new people today, and putting faces together with names from the forum. Hope to ride with you all again soon, but I'll have to check my schedule first. Riding with the Pros, you know, keeps me busy;-)

Assault on Brushy Mtn

2008-10-11T17:39:00.037-04:00

Paulding Sorba hosted their first annual "Assault on Brushy Mtn" to introduce the mtn biking community to the many incredible trails they have so diligently been building and grooming as of late. The word, assault, sounds so abrasive and hostile, yet that is appropriate nomenclature for many a bike ride we have done. I did not want to assault anything today, but rather "Embark upon a Fun Adventure" of the New Mtn Bike Trails. How's that for a Festival Title?

Paulding Sorba has some really cool exciting members just oozing with motivation, energy, and ideas to make mountain biking fun and accessible not just for the athletes, but for the common everyday citizens of their community. Hardworkers like TJ, Scott, Derick, Buster and Dave (only to name a few) along with countless volunteers have built a fabulous network of singletrack trails running right alongside the Silver Comet trail. Even though you are never more than 20 feet away from the paved path, the dirt trails give a sense of being in the middle of the woods, worlds away from the hub bub of city life. You can see the Comet just behind PJ and Rusty as they play in the singletrack oblivious to the paved universe.

Raja took me on the trails for my first time last Tuesday, and I felt like a little kid that had discovered a new secret hideout in the woods. Yet, you can look over your shoulder at some places and see triathletes hunched over their aero bars riding by on the Comet and power walkers keeping stride with their ipod music. It's not just anywhere that so many disciplines can all coexist and play together in such close proximity.

There were 3 options for our ride this morning, 12, 20, and 50 miles. PJ was geared up to do the whole enchilada, and had no idea what she was in for! I told her that ignorance is bliss. After it was over and done, she said she now understood that theory.
During the previous day's phone conversation, I had unwittingly peaked shredder Michael's interest in coming to the ride. He showed up along with Andy and Steve. I knew I would not be seeing much of these guys during the ride, so we tried to get in our socializing beforehand. Al, Rusty, Rob, Scubacruz, Lori, PJ, and Badge were also there signing up for varying options. I was surprised to see such a varied group of riders.

Crockett, our fearless leader, called the meeting to order and gave us the lowdown. This was NOT a race, he specifically stated. Well, that was a load off my mind! Steve and Andy had been downplaying their riding abilities all morning, and we all know what that means. They were going to kick our butts with Michael leading the pack. Maybe with this tactful announcement, a truce would be called and we could actually ride for fun?! Riiiiiiiiiiiight .

We were gently dismissed, and the pack went barreling down the Comet towards the side trail as if free money was being dispensed at the trailhead.

Hitting the rolling dirt track, one cannot help but give into the adrenaline and flowing fast trail. We raced along at a fast clip, heartrates climbing higher and higher. Last I checked there was no race number plate attached to my bike, so why was I keeping chase? The faster you go, the more fun it is! These trails rock!

Once you hit one of the short little climbs though, the fun factor fades and your common sense tends to take over the voting process.

Things got more intense and I could only watch as Michael's wheel pulled away from me. "I've got to get my heartrate under control or I'm going to bonk in the first 5 miles," I thought to myself. Backing off a click, I took advantage of the rolling downhills to gather my thoughts. Michael and I popped out onto the Silver Comet for a few hundred yards, and we could see the rest of the lead pack just ahead. I knew Michael would motor up easily to close the gap and hook back on to the train, so I jumped on his rear wheel. But he is so incredibly strong that I could not stay in his draft, and fell back a few bike lengths.

As we popped back into the woods, I could see Raja letting some riders pass by him. He too had come to the same conclusion I had. "What's the point in racing this? Let's ride with some of our friends!" We waited at the top of the next steep climb and joined in the fun with our friends that were experiencing these trails for their first time. Personally I want to be remembered not by how fast I can rip up a trail, but as a friend that is simply a fun person with which to ride.

Now that my bursting lungs were no longer the focus of my attention, I took the time to notice the beautiful surroundings and subtle Fall colors beginning to emerge.

The trail is narrow and zips through trees and up and over not so subtle switchbacks. For being a trail that runs parallel to a paved path, it dishes up some real surprises.

This is not a dull straight-as-a board flat trail as one might expect. Challenging for a beginner and yet just as interesting for an experienced mtn biker, you will not be bored out here!! I'm excited to have something new to ride that is only 12 miles away from the house.

The singletrack treats end right before the Pumpkinvine Tressel Bridge giving you about 9 miles of dirt altogether. Today's route was going to take us further down the Comet and then off on some gravel dirt roads and paved roads. Less than an hour into our journey, everyone was still full of energy.

At mile marker 12, our sag stop was waiting. There was no need to carry much water or food, because they had plenty of supplies in stock. Paulding Sorba had all sorts of safety measures in place, and signing into the sag was a must along with getting our wrist bands hole punched. A phone number was on each wrist band in case a rider got lost, and needed to call for assistance.
The only thing Paulding Sorba wasn't doing for us was turning the pedals on our bikes. That was up to us! After fueling up and getting safety clearance, we turned off the Comet onto McPherson Church for some gravel road grinding.

The entire route was well marked with yellow ties hanging from tree limbs, signs with arrows, and marked trees. The paved roads were a welcome change from the gravel, yet they had their own disadvantage. Climbing on the road on a 27lb squishy full suspension mountain bike is no walk in the park, and works you twice as hard as your skinny little road bike would. Raja and I wanted a good workout today, and we were getting it! The clouds would come and go, with more coming than going, and the wind blew fiercely reminding us that a real roadie ride would have been torture.

The route took us to Braswell Mtn Road and then to Brushy Mtn where Scott was waiting with sag #3. He pointed us down a doubletrack gravel trail that would eventually lead to a nicer singletrack trail. Mmmmmmm, fresh big gravel. Now that takes a bit of experience to learn how to ride, and thank goodness I have a wee bit of know-how to endure it.

We were thrilled when that finally ended and we took a right turn into a thick overgrown trail. Are we sure this is the right way? Yep, I see the yellow ribbon hanging just ahead, we're on track!

No mountain bike ride would be complete without the obligatory creek crossing. Be careful though, this stuff can be slick and sometimes it is better just to walk it.

The next section of trail reminded me of what we used to ride 15-20 years ago in our beginner days of mountain biking.

It was a nice old raw piece of trail without any fancy grooming. Taking us up a respectable climb, it took all your focus and concentration in order to make it without dabbing. I really liked this section.

Once at the top, we rolled along and then quickly descended down a short steep pitch that dumped us out onto the Comet. Darn, we were having such fun in the dirt.

In just a few short clicks, we were back at our first sag stop with TJ still manning his post. This time we went the other direction on McPherson Church for a steady climb up to Willow Springs Road. We are very familiar with Willow Springs since this is part of the Hulseytown Loop we used to do on a regular basis. Down Willow to Mt. Olivet and once again we were back on the Comet.

This meant that shortly after we went through the tunnel we would pick back up on the singletrack side trails this time in the opposite direction.

Yea! Dirt track again, where I feel at home.

Wait a minute! What the heck?

That's not something you see everyday on the trail! We didn't even see those in Switzerland! I've seen people walk their dogs on the trail, but their llamas!?!
This was definitely a first!

After shaking off the shock of our Llama encounter we continued on towards the Maniac switchbacks which Al attempted with ease. This is another one of my favorite sections of the trail.

We were nearing the end and our odometers were still far from 50 miles. 42 miles is all we would get credit for at the finish, but that was plenty! PJ wouldn't argue with that distance either. She had assaulted, embraced, and embarked these trails with gusto and I was very proud of her!

As we rolled into the park, Crockett was announcing our arrival over the loudspeaker as if we had completed the Tour de France. Bowls of chili and chicken soup and trays of treats were waiting for us to consume. In between bites, we listened for our number to be called out in order to pick out some cool schwag off the table courtesy of the many generous sponsors. Raja and I scored a pair of Tifosi suglasses and a huge jug of Hammergel.....suhweet! The best part, of course, was just hanging out with the fun folks of Paulding Sorba and enjoying the super weather and laughing at stories from the day's events.

If this is what an Assault is all about, count me in! Thanks Paulding Sorba for an awesome Assault on Brushy Mountain. We look forward to next year!

The First Time

2008-10-05T17:04:00.027-04:00

The first time you conquer a particularly challenging trail is a moment to remember. More importantly it should be done in the company of friends to make it even more memorable. The more you laugh and smile in the face of a challenge, odds are the smaller the beast becomes.

Our local trail, Tibbs, is the legendary beast. The mere mention of its name in a crowd immediately evokes uggghhh's, oooooohhhhh's, and Aaaagggghhh's! You are not considered truly inducted into the inner sanctum of mountain biking until Tibbs is listed on your resume.

Cyclesmith had called a Windy Gap/Tibbs ride and made it the official Raja/Chocolate Girl Anniversary Ride. We could not have picked a better group of friends with which to celebrate!

We had celebrated on Wednesday with just the two of us by heading to the North Georgia Mountains in search of some hills....remember, we're Hillseekers now.

It was a gorgeous day with crystal clear skies, but we still could not see any snow capped Alps on the horizon. As much as I adore our yearly European treks, it is causing a problem back on the homefront. We are slowly becoming Alpine snobs, and are no longer impressed with anything short of a 8,000' pass involving glacier waterfalls, cowbells, 48 switchbacks, and strudel.

I pretended to be scared of the warning signs at Brasstown Bald, but secretly my eyes were rolling in boredom. 3 miles, whatever. We made the best of it and climbed Brasstown for our first time.

It was a nice day on the bike just the two of us together, something we rarely get to do anymore. 50 miles went by fast, and it was time to call it a day. A day we will remember because we marked it with climbing on a bike!

By Saturday, we were ready to celebrate again with more climbing. This time it would be mega climbing. More like Alpine climbing via dirt roads. Our "little" 16 mile route included a rough start 1.5 miles immediately up Windy Gap, 5 miles rolling on Milma, and then a 1.5 mile climb up Tibbs, the motherload of climbs. It's a heck of a way to start a ride, and is not for the faint of heart. You do not have to be the best mtn biker in the world to take it on, but you do need a certain amount of determination, a little fire in your belly, and a high threshold for pain.

The ride was not really about our anniversary at all. It gave us an official excuse to be festive and silly. The real purpose, at least for us, was to cheer on and witness some of our friends' first experience with TIBBS! In an effort to spare them the fear of the unknown, we try to lay it out bit by bit, rock by rock, describing what to do how and where. The rest would be up to them. We were hoping today would have a happy ending.

Some days we've not had as much success and happily ever after campers. Some have puked, some have cursed madly, and some have walked while cussing and puking. You never know how people will respond to Tibbs. You get everything from, "that wasn't so bad" to "I don't ever want to come here again." I had a feeling these campers would all do well.

Regularjoe was one of the first timers, along with cRASh, Speedy, Tweety, and Robb. I gave strict instructions to them to resist the urge to keep pace with the group and climb at their own pace. "You will regret it if you go out too fast", I told them as if scolding school boys.

Fortunately, none of them suffered from male ego mtn biker induced stupidity, and each settled into their own world of pain. I tried to keep tabs on them ever so often, and spoke a few words of encouragement. You can't do too much talking on this climb though. When you are suffering from the pain of climbing Windy Gap, the last thing your mind wants to hear is some cheery little voice blabbing on incessantly.

The trail was a mile deep in dust. When we climbed it in August during the Drama Queen race it was dusty, but not this bad. No rain had fallen since that time, and the rolling tires were stirring up clouds. The morning light streamed through the trees passing through a dust prism casting a beautiful glow. I enjoyed watching the riders ahead and wished I had my Nikon.

My legs felt really good for a change. Ever since our return from Switzerland, I have felt like crap and not had a decent ride until now. Thank goodness. There's nothing worse than climbing these trails with cement bags. It made it easier for me to ride back and forth on the climb to check on everyone's progress since my legs were not protesting as of yet.

Everyone made it to the turnoff for Milma, but I could see the nervous looks in some of their faces. I could tell what they were thinking, "this better be worth it, cause that climb sucked." I kept my fingers crossed.

Milma has some nice downhill sections in it and then gradual rolling ups. At first I started down with the front pack, and quickly abandoned that idea. With 5 guys in front of me going full speed ahead, the dust kicked up was blinding. Backing off to let things settle, I tried to catch some shots with the light reflecting off the dust clouds. It was much more dramatic when I was in the thick of it.

Milma trail always brings a glimmer of hope back into the first timers eyes. The downhills are fun, and the climbing is not so bad. Funny how quickly you can forget the pain of a climb.

Part of the reason I enjoy bringing newbies to this trail is so that I can relax and enjoy myself. The majority of times we have ever ridden these routes is during some sort of sufferfest like Firewater, Drama Queen, or just chasing the experts. Our earlier days of riding here were never particularly pleasant. Much much suffering was involved. I like to try and keep the suffering to a minimum for the newbies. We'll unleash on the 2nd lap.

Since this was a "neutral" ride, everyone was waiting at the turnoff for Tibbs. Shredders like Shane and Carebear were content to stop and chew the fat. Shane told me later how much he enjoyed the ride because it "reminds him of what it's all about." That's a bold statement coming from one of the fastest expert racers in the South. But today wasn't about stroking his ego or anyone else. No one really cared if they were in the presence of the Drama Queen and King or how many hours you rode last week. This was all about getting up Tibbs for the first time! Let's do this thing!

If you have the luxury of going up Tibbs at your own leisure, that is the way to do it. Trying to keep pace with the group or racing up is another level of torture that I don't relish. Everytime I climb here, I go through all the memories in my head of past "races". My first time was on a hardtail, fully rigid I think. Climbing on full suspension makes a huge difference, and I really enjoyed the MotoLite. Robb and Tweety were riding full-on LazyBoys and climbed amazingly well.

With such a rough trail, I think the more suspension you have, the better it serves you. Of course, if you're Shane, you don't need anything but 2 wheels.

You may be wondering what the big deal is about Tibbs. The big deal is that it is a long unrelenting climb with no clear line. You have to pick your way through loose rocks trying to keep enough momentum while struggling to keep your heart from exploding due to the constant steep trail forever extending before you.

If your legs are fresh, it is a fun challenge. But if they aren't, it can be quite the climb, or hike, as the case may be.

Our campers all did great and finished with smiles on their faces!

With the nasty parts over, we continued on the gravel forest service road to the firetower. Once we reached the gate, it was a 2 mile gradual climb to the tower.

I like doing this climb before the dead of winter because it's much prettier with all the color still out. The more curious of us climbed up for the view.

In the meantime, Raja discovered he had a problem.

Seems one of the bolts came out on the climb. What is with these new bikes? Duckman's self destructed on the first few rides, and now it's Raja's turn. Not to worry. With Tweety on board, they would be sure to come up with a solution. While we were up gazing out on the horizon from the tower, Raja was busy ransacking the vacant bikes, striping them of nuts and bolts.

Duckman saved the day with a spare stem bolt, and MarkD sacrificed his bike tool by stealing all its washers.

We have, without a doubt, the most generous, creative, helpful friends in the world. I don't leave home without them.

While they were scratching their heads and solving equations, the rest of us were not afraid to kick back and relax. It was such a beautiful day, and we were not about to let a second of it go to waste.

It's so nice to be on a ride with all kinds of rider abilities, but everyone is still able to relax and chill. Nobody got uptight or anxious because we weren't hammering. The trail will be there when we get there!

Finally the repairs were made and we continued back to the Windy Gap trailhead. But not without a stop for some more antics. Thanks to G-Off and Sweetwater adding fuel to the fire, we did our own version of silliness. If you can't laugh, then go home.

Windy Gap was the reason Tweety and Robb brought their recliners, so they took off with Shane to bomb Mr. Toad's Wild Ride while the rest of us rode more sensibly.

Raja continued to litter the trail with pieces of his bike, Kokopelli augered in, and a few more of us had our own encounters with mother earth. Windy Gap will challenge the best of riders, and everyone rode like a champ. We survived with all bones intact and minimal blood loss!

Judging from everyone's faces back at the parking lot, I could tell it was a successful ride. I was so proud of my newbie friends!!!! That's not an easy ride and something to be very very proud of for accomplishing. So now that means there's no excuse they cannot all do the Drama Queen next year. Hitting Windy Gap and Milma after racing 23 miles........that's your next big challenge!!! Remember, there's a first time for everything!