Grounded...

So...The past two weeks have flown by. When I last posted, I was on my way to Aspen, CO for the final stop on the NORBA National series, and effectively, my final race as a pro in the US. Thursday, August 10, I was supposed to fly after work to Denver, pick up a friends car and drive the remainder of the way to Aspen. Well, just like this whole year has gone, surprises happen when you least expect them...
Thursday night after waiting seemingly forever for my plane to arrive from Atlanta, my flight was canceled. The flight from Atlanta never made it off the ground due to weather. Keep in mind, this was also the very same day where the Terror Level went to Red. Because so many people missed their flights due to "increased insecurity" that day, the soonest I could get a rescheduled confirmed flight was Saturday morning. I tried everything in the book. Different airports, different times. Different connections. The closest I was getting was Santa Fe, NM before Saturday. With that in mind, and a sick feeling in my stomach, I canceled my flight and hence my final race On the NORBA circuit. This was not supposed to happen. It was the last time I was going to see many of these people, and somehow I felt robbed.
After pulling myself out of a depression on Friday, I realized that while I may have missed out on that opportunity, but when one falls away, another arises. After studying the schedules online, I found the perfect racing supplement locally, Howell Mountain Challenge in the hills surrounding Napa, CA. Perfect. A local race on the dirt with a good field of local pros. Excellent preparation for what is coming up on my schedule.
I arrive on Sunday morning after spending Saturday visiting with many relatives scattered around the Napa valley. I am feeling better than good. I know the race is going to go well...I can just feel it.
Long story short, I had the race of my life. I had a great start, set a good hard pace. I dropped a lot of people, and then worked on shelling the remaining trailers in the opening minutes of the race. About eight miles into the first of three ten mile loops, I was descending a fire road at a high rate of speed. My front wheel clipped a tree branch and kicked it up into my rear wheel where it got stuck in the spokes. It managed to rip out a couple of spokes before it forced itself onto the frame and managed to break my frame in two places. My race was over, and my weekend was nearly a complete failure with catastrophic results. The good in it all was I was okay. I did not take a "dirt nap" or have an "agricultural experience." Despite the frame breaking at a high rate of speed, I managed to keep the bike upright and safe from danger. The one shining moment in this whole thing was I looked at my stopwatch when it happened, and I managed to gain over a minute and a half in not even a full lap...and I was just starting to get'r goin'.
I was as far as I could be from the start/finish line when this happened...so I had quite a hike to get back. On my journey, I managed to run into my good friend and now boss, Gary Erikson, owner of Clif Bar. He too had a mechanical that day. We had a great chat on out hike. It had been a long time since we had spoken. Some things were meant to be I guess...
Enjoy your time with your friends, when you can...
Sorry, no pictures this time...my camera is still packed for Aspen. Maybe I will bust it out before I head off to Mt. Washington, NH next weekend, August 17th.
Till then...enjoy the ride...

You Got Up Dog?

I raced in Fort Ord last weekend where the experience was totally different. I managed to have some fun, mostly because everyone was acting their age and not throwing temper tantrums and waterbottles.

It will be good to see Ty racing again...even if it's his back wheel for a minute...

My career as a fulltime pro is winding down fast. Next I am off to Aspen, Co for the NORBA National Series finals. Interestingly, it was my crash in Aspen that ultimately ended my career as a ski racer at the ripe age of 20. And now, 15 years later, it will be on the very same slopes that I will race my final time in the US as a pro. Isn't that Ironic?...Don't you think? I have been invited to represent THF in New Hampshire in the Mount Washington Hillclimb. By the numbers... Terminus 6288 ft. (1916.58 meters)Base (Toll House) 1565 ft. (477 meters)Elevation gain 4727 ft. (1440.79 meters)Length 7.6 miles (12.23 kilometers)Grade Avg.12%, extended 18%, final 100 yds. 22%Road surface 65% paved, 35% packed gravel. Record 49:24 by Tom Danielson, 2002. And apparently, the hard part is not the road...it's the weather. Check it out.

Does anybody have some spare legs I can borrow? Because I am pretty sure mine will be obliterated by the time I get to the top...but this is what I love.

After Mt. Washington, I have a weekend of rest and then I head to Canada for my final race...World Mountainbike Championships in Kamloops, British Columbia. I have heard the new course suits my strengths even better than last year. And with a fith place under my belt from last year...well...no predictions...just dreams and aspirations. It would sure be nice to go out on top.

And just when you think it's time to take a much needed break, I head to Europe. I have decided to forego the World Cup and focus all of my efforts on the THF MS Global Ride. It was just going to be too much of a hassle, bringing two bikes over trying to rush around Europe to race AND lead the ride. Besides, I am so slow, they would undoubtedly kick me out after a lap or two. So, Spend a week of running around to race for 40 minutes or so??? I don't think so. Besides, I will be retired...And a new card carrying member of the PLT (that's Pro Leisure Tour).

Besides, I have found my next gig http://www.prostaredown.com/ Care to jump in the ring with me?

Enjoy you ride...and try not to stare at those that enjoy less conventionally.

Sorry...I have been busy.

It happens...we get busy. I have had my entire life turned upside-down. My new job has me going into work early and training late. By the time I get food in my belly, it is way past my bed time. My spare time to write has been severely hampered by this transition I have been going through. Not to mention I have been racing on the weekends...nowhere near my home. I know..I know...Blah, blah, blah. You don't want to hear it.

Last weekend, I was racing in the Masters District Championships up in Woodfords. (Yeah, Like I knew where the effe Woodfords was). I threw my tent, backpack stove and sleeping bag in the car and drove deep into the Sierras on Friday night. I ended up camping somewhere near Kirkwood. It was a warm night with a ton of stars out. It sure felt good to get out and sleep under the stars. It is not the best thing to do before a race...but it sure beat trying to find a motel room at one in the morning in the middle of nowhere.

The race course was beautiful. Probably the most beautiful of all the races in California. Too bad it only had two mini-climbs in it. (Especially with the Sierras RIGHT there next to the course). I was happy because I made the winning break of ten guys. With one lap to go, two guys from two teams that had teammates in the break started fighting. I mean they were throwing waterbottles at each other, brake checking each other and yelling explicatives that I don't care to mention here (it's a family show...). I managed to tolerate this for about a half a lap before I got really frustrated and downright sick of it. It was bad enough that wherever I go, most NON-cyclists and even occasional cyclists treat me as if I am a doper because Floyd was deemed a doper, then we all must be dopers. To these people, I represent the entire professional cycling population to them...and so I must defend the beauty of the sport as much as it sucks.
Not to mention these are grown men, acting like a bunch of school children fighting over a dodgeball game or something. I finally rode up next to them after nearly getting taken out numerous times by their shenanigans and politely told them to grow up and ride their bikes. The only reply I heard was"Mind your own effin' business". So I sat up and pulled out of the race...not ever wanting to ever race my bike again.

In my mind, the sport that I love, the sport that has allowed me to recreate myself, the sport that has allowed me to make a difference in others lives is under severe public scrutiny for deep rooted corruption amongst the ranks. I am already feeling personally attacked for even being a competitor in the sport. And now, I find myself, on the most beautiful course in California, racing for a district title and these guys are not upholding the beauty of the sport and the true spirit of competition. I mean really, we are not racing for anything other than the joy of the experience and your name on a sheet of paper that says for one split second in time, you were the fastest. In reality, while trying to impress others, nobody gives a shit. You are really only impressing yourself...and if you believe differently, you are good at lying to yourself. They are not racing a smart and tough race, instead, they are making asses of themselves and ruining my experience in the process. You would think better of grown men...in all regards.

After collecting myself while sitting by a high Sierra stream on that afternoon, I realized that my journey is really up to me. I can allow them to ruin it or not...it's my choice.
I choose to continue on my journey that I dreamed about, decided on, planned for and have lived everyday since.

8.04.06

"Staff Meeting"

So...it's been too long since I have had a minute to post anything. First it was Nationals right here in my backyard. I managed to have a career best ride in Short Track on Sunday the 16th. The temperature rose to 105degrees for the start. Larry Longo, the announcer for all NORBA Nationals, calls Short Track the "Hurricane of Pain." A fellow Rider/Blogger, Nick Martin compares Short Track to that of giving birth to a cactus. I would like to add that it is always all those things and more, but on Sunday, with the temps...well...the only way to describe it is imagine wrapping your lips around a hairdryer while going anaerobic. Let's just sat, "I melted the motherboard." And I had a great time doing it.

The next day, I started my new career at Clif Bar. My game plan in job acquisition was to loiter there until they gave me a desk and a paycheck. My plan only took the better part of 6 years to implement. While the first week was filled with a lot of meet and greet meetings and learning a whole new lifestyle, I loved it.

At this "Meeting", Finance, Upper Management, R&D, Customer Service, Luna Chicks Team and Marketing departments all "Collaborated" on future initiatives.

The first week of any job can be a bit on the difficult side. For me, coming into Clif Bar, it was more like returning to school from Summer Vacation. The company is filled with new and long time friends. Most people thought I already worked for the company.

I have a feeling I am home.

I mean, where else can you drop your boss at a meeting.

I celebrated my new job by heading to an Extra-Innings Giants game with my mom, uncle and cousin in the afternoon sun. It was only 102degrees. At least the seats were close to the action.

Adendum: I am not complaining about the weather, I am merely commenting. I appreciate any day that it does not RAIN.

WInter Wonderland

Sonoma, CA 105degrees...
Pretty Busy...started my new job at Clif Bar...
More details to come...
But for now, chew on this...

You know you're big time when you can call your Blog in.

Another Birthday...

Nathan, I could not ask for a better brother. I will talk to you soon...

Black Lung

Park City, UT
I think I have Black Lung...(cough...cough)It's been three days since my latest dive into the dry pool of pain and I am still coughing up the dust. This time I emerged victorious. Well, I didn't win the race, but I managed to get my best pro result of my short career (38th out of 97) in the cross country. I felt good going into the race on Saturday, did my normal warm-up, and then gunned it from the start. I had to starting on nearly the back row. That's what I get for missing the last two races. I managed to pass a bunch of people right at the start as it was the typical Ski Area Start...straight up. I always do well when it goes like that since I am not trying to haul a huge carcass up the hill.

Upon reaching the bottom of the next hill, I was staring at the back wheels of guys I never see in races...just at the start line as they get called up way before me. This inspired me to stay on the gas. I managed to pass a lot of them too. In my mind, I cannot believe it...then again, after all of the training and planning, I can. The most unbelievable thing besides a working class pro like myself riding with the full-time pros, was this was at altitude. Something that a sea level person should be feeling the effects of, yet I was floating instead of drowning in Hypoxia. Normally riding that hard at that altitude feels like breathing fire through a soda straw. Yet both the lungs and the legs felt great.

All systems were go, so I stayed on the gas the entire race. I never had the feeling of crumbling or pain so bad that you are looking for any reason to quit. You know, excuses like, "Ummm...I think my tire is flat and I got a stick stuck in my spokes...and I am trying to save myself for tomorrow. My feet hurt. I think my frame is cracked. I sure am hungry. " I have had all of those reasons and more run through my head many times...but not this time.

When I ride through the feed zone, I can always count on the moral support of a few people regardless of how far back I am. This time, Jon from Fisher/Subaru was feeding me. The first time through he had this look of amazement on his face. When I saw that, I knew I was having a great ride. Poz from Trek always gives me a shout as well as Waldek from Luna and Gary from Maxxis...and this time, they were louder than ever...they knew I was going good too. As I ride past the start finish line, I always get props from Longo, the announcer. This time he did not even see me as he was probably expecting to see me 20-30 places later. Even Frosty, standing on the course at the start/finish line will give a yell, but he just stood in amazement. Those guys are always there for me...rain or shine as well as many others all around the course...all around the country...I may not see you or recognize you...but I hear you...so thanks. This is a day I will never forget!

For the latter part of the race I was locked into a battle with a couple of guys, one of which is a fellow Northern Californian and good friend, Aren Timmel. Aren and I kept yo-yoing for the final two laps. I think he was having some mechanical issues. We also had two other guys that were latched on. On the final climb, both Aren and I gassed it trying to lose the other two. I know I was on the edge of blowing up so I backed off a little bit, allowing Aren to get a 5 second gap. The other two Yahoos caught me on the final descent, but I managed to pull it together to surge one last time, caught Aren at the pavement, but ran out of room to pass for the finish sprint with the other two only seconds in arrears. It made for an exciting race right up to the finish...something that rarely happens when I normally finish further back.

With the US National Championships in my backyard this coming Friday at 2:00 and Sunday at 2:30 up at Infinion Raceway things could get real interesting. My form is definitely coming around. We will have to see what this weekend brings, but if Deer Valley is any indication, it should be another great ride. Stop on by the Luna Truck and say Hi if you are in the neighborhood.

Enjoy the ride...

Happy Birthday Seth

To a great friend who for the first two months of knowing me in college thought my name was "Simon." Seth, "My name is NOT Simon."
Seth is the kind of great friend that inspires you to be better than the best. He has seen me at my worst, and has pushed me to be my best. And throuh it all, his friendship has never wavered.
Happy Birthday my friend.

Mom Always Said...

Never trust somebody with ankle weights....

...and a bad-ass adult size Razor skooter.