Defy.

I was riding up brokenback in my granny gear, cold, tired, cussing a little, late in the game on Sunday, and I got to wondering how many times I’ve climbed that thing.  100 times?  Less?  Certainly not as many times as, say, C-Ham, or Captain America, whose residence at the base of the beast lends itself to more frequent trips up the mountain.   But a substantial number nonetheless, I keep going up it and it doesn’t really get easier.  I tend to forget just how hard the Pantani ride is.  47 miles or so.  5200 feet of climbing. Not so bad on paper.  But the reality of brokenback changes your mind about that when you keep turning the corner into another 100 yard, 20 degree pitch – again and again for 3.5 miles. 

In short, it’s amazing. 

I really just can't get enough pictures of Todd humping this sign. 

I wondered, somewhere about Stone Mountain Vineyard (whose owner recently passed away of a heart attack) about the effect Marco Pantani (also technically a victim of a heart attack) has had on my life.  And maybe it was the proximity to all of that dying young that made me acknowledge that Pantani, despite his own radically unhealthy obsessiveness, has made me a healthier person.  In a way, the pain that he put himself through inspires me to go out and ride anyway, whatever that anyway might defy.  Cold.  Rain.  Snow.  Sleep deprivation.  Too busy with work.  Too lazy.  Every winter, when I might otherwise tuck inside for a while, the notion that on the Sunday after Valentine’s day I will have to climb brokenback with very little left in the tank reminds me I should probably get off my ass and train a little. 

But every man experiences the Pantani ride his own way.  More details here and here and here, and perhaps my favorite of all way down at the bottom, here.  Among other places. 

Onward, but still on the topic of training through the winter instead of just honing mint lattes and cupcakes down your neck, might I suggest a little Sherando. 

Or a whole lot of Sherando

50 rugged miles.  Torrey, Kennedy, Slacks, Mill Creek, a little wintergreen sting in the tail, and then, perhaps most importantly, a Beer Garden.  That's where they grow beer.  New Belgian Beer to be exact.  

 

Rally. 

As my wife asked me, “Do you think people know what they’re signing up for when they sign up for something like that?” 

Firm answer, “no.”  And thank God for that.  Otherwise they wouldn’t do it.  And by they, I mean, we.  Scare hours after you have suffered cramped and bonked your way down Torrey ridge, you can barely remember just how bad you felt in that moment.  The glory overshadows the pain, and yes, oh yes, you were radical coming down the final section to the Furnace. 

Now drink your Fat Tire.  That’s what counts.

Keep climbing.

Up, up, up.   

Pop on Fox

Pop on Fox
Fox on Pop
Pop wears warm socks on Fox
Fox drops lots of pops who don't train lots

Pantani Ride Q&A and General Misinformation

Let's get this out of the way early:
The Pantani ride is happening this weekend, blizzard or not.

A little snow doesn't scare me.  A lot of snow scares me a little, but that's the thing about the peloton - it rolls on, with or without you.  And, let's face it, we've been in this situation before. 

And it was awesome. 

With that said, and for the sake of real, genuine misinformation (much of it remarkably outdated) let's dig into the mailbag and see what's so hard to understand. 


Let's start with the basics:
Q: Is the great Pantani ride happening this weekend?
A:  Yes.  Sunday at 11 AM, so not technically ALL weekend, but this weekend nonetheless.  But just a quick caveat to that statement, the only person one Earth with the panache, dedication, and heart to make the Pantani last all weekend is IN.  So, quite possibly, we'll be here until Monday. 


Q:  Really?  I'm in, but what time is it?  Your website says 10 and the blog says 11.
A:  Vague, yeah?  Technically, we are rolling at 11 AM Sunday on the big bulbous nose, but arriving by 10 AM or so in order to fix your flat tire, adjust your jock strap, align your compass, and generally screw your head on straight is probably a good idea. 

Q:  I can't seem to find the registration page on BikeReg.  How do I sign up?
A:  You'll need to write, print out, and sign a legal document proclaiming your intent to race the esteemed Pantani race and also claiming coverage under some kind of  team-sponsored, multi-national insurance policy; have it notarized, emblazoned with silver, and then laminate it.  Then, show up on Sunday, come to the start line, and shove it directly up your ass.  And you're in.  Easy as that. 

Q:  You mentioned that your pre-race interview with C-Ham was mostly fictitious.  But I have it on good authority that C-Ham does actually have Chlamydia. 
A:  That is not technically a question, but we'll allow it because it's awesome, and also a great reminder to you kids out there to think before you become grossly intoxicated and use a public restroom.  Thanks for the reminder. 

Q:  Speaking of which, that pre-race interview is no longer available?  What gives?
A:  Another smidge of cycling history, devoured by the internet. 

Q:  Hey Boss is the starting address still 551 Allen Road 22936? Pantani goes live at 11am right? I'm kicking around bringing the cross bike, what do you think would the MTB be the safer bet due to road conditions?
A:  That's at least three questions, actually, but again, fine.  Yes, we'll start from 551 Allen Rd at 11 AM.  The Cross Bike vs Mountain Bike vs Road Bike theory has been kicked around and tested to the point of breaking.  I'll say that the first half of the course is a good cross bike ride, but the lollipop loop at the top is really not.  By the time you come off Simmons Gap on the final push home, you'll probably see an even mix of bikes around you.  But you won't see *Bob Anderson*, no matter what he's riding.  He's already done. 
*speaking of which, someone please send off a homing pidgeon or a smoke signal or a flare or something to let Bob know about this ride. 


Q:  What do I do if there's inclement weather?  My smartphone says it'll be 37 degrees and snowing on Sunday at 11 AM. 
A:  Never mind, for a moment, how smart your phone may or may not be, or its merits as weather prognostication technology.  Never mind the fickle nature of February weather.  Never mind your lack of grit.  Marco Pantani would go.  If you can admit, at least to yourself, that pain is a part of why you ride and a part of what makes it good, then bad weather is actually something that will enhance the experience.  But please bring a winch if you have one because parking could get a little soft. 


Q:  It's going to be wet, cold, and determined on Sunday.  Is C-Ham still your pick?  Thomas Bouber is Belgian. 
A:  That's more like it.  Great question.  C-Ham is, indeed, still my pick.  But your point about Bouber's nationality, as well as the implied conclusion derived from it, are both entirely valid.  Mental note to try to spend some time on Bouber's 6 if he doesn't torch me in the first mile. 

Q:  Will there be a KOM category? 
A:  Hmmmm.  As much as I'd like to discard this question as irrelavant and needless change, I have to admit that Marco Pantani would dig a KOM category.  Really, the fact that we've had no KOM category to this point is sort of an oversight.  But, when you think about it, every ride you've ever been on has a KOM category.  Polkadotted jersey or not, there's always that one guy on every ride who has to get to the top first, bonk, crash on the descent, and repeat until he winds up at the finish mid-pack in a drippy mess.  So yes, unofficially-offically, there is a KOM category.  Prize to be determined.  But consider yourself to be grabbing a point if you're the first one over Fox mtn , the gap above Blackwells Hollow on 810, Mission Home, or the mailboxes at the top of brokenback either time you go past them.  That's 5 points up for grabs, I suppose, but if you've got sufficient bloodflow to your brain that you're able to count them, then you're doing it wrong. 

Q:  Better provision:  bear spray or cell phone?
A:  Toss up. 

Q:  OK, I'm in.  But I'm pretty sure I'll get lost and that intimidates me.
A:  Relaaaaaax.  Come on, think about it, what's the worst that could happen.  goooooood.   Now, take all of those thoughts, and flush them down the toilet with your EPO suppository.  Better?  Gooooood.  Now print these maps and this queue sheet, place them in a dry plastic baggie so your blood and tears don't render them soggy and worthless, and rest up so you can just tuck in with a fast group and not worry about navigation anyway. 









That's about all I can do for you at this point, folks.  If things are still too cryptic or undefined for you, then chances are The Pantani Ride isn't for you anyway. 

Just in case, though, here are some Q&A links from yesteryear:
http://www.blueridgeracing.blogspot.com/2011/02/pantani-would-eat-muffin.html
http://bikefactoryracing.blogspot.com/2010/01/pantani-ride-details.html

It's a mighty fine Friday, sunshine peaking in the window like the weekend from right around the corner.  So that's about that. 



Until Sunday, be kind to each other, relax a bit, and put your money where your mouth is. 

Up, up, up. 

ConferenceBike



Budgetary Shortfall in Q4?  No worries.  Just keep Pedaling. 

 Behold, the latest in meeting (and cycling) technology:  The ConferenceBike. 

It's a meeting on wheels.  How many wheels, I'm not sure. 

Work-Life balance just got a little better. 

But does it come in a 29er version?  (You see, the larger wheels actually roll over obstacles better...blah, blah, blah.)

Gearing choices?  2X10?  Can a team of 7 really pedal this thing up Brokenback without a granny gear?

Do they make a ti version? 

XT or XTR?

Fender and pannier options?  I'd like to pedal this thing down the Tour Divide. 

Which ConferenceBike model is best for hucking?

And so on. 

First person to photoshop Shawn's face onto the guy in pink gets to wear the Maillot Pistachio on Sunday. 

Pantani Ride Q&A tomorrow.  We've got some doozies. 

Up, up, up. 

February.

Global warming, or just freakishly terrific weather for February 1: it does not matter.  Pantani would be punching it up something steep right now either way. 

And so, it turns out, would The Rooster:

This just in:

Cock-a-doodle friggin' doo!
Count me in
Again
with another douche bag or two.



The Rooster will see you now. 

Yeah, it's like that when you're in Richmond and it's 80 degrees in the dead of a Winter - which is to say, very much alive.  Judging from the size of the needle, I bet that dude is monster fit, and if he's rolling up here with who I think he's rolling up here with, they'll be off the front by the time we hit Markwood rd.  Welcome to Droppedville - population: Me. 

You know what I've been pondering more of lately?  Not just the whole global warming scare, which is tough to really squawk about too much when you can sunbathe in January, but instead, Global Dimming - basically, the idea that, through pollutants in our atmosphere allowing less sunlight through to the Earth, things are just a little darker than they used to be.  As a metaphor for humanity on this planet, that's strong and at least worth considering. 

You know what else is strong and worth considering?  C-ham winning the Pantani Ride.  I put a considerable amount of thought into this, and without really knowing who will show up fresh on 2/19 in what is likely to be radically cramp-conducive early season conditions, C-Ham is my pick.  Nobody cramps and rallies like C-ham. 

ouch face.

 Lots of naysayers, perhaps, on that subject, and the forthcoming installment of our now-annual, mostly fabricated, pre-race interview will probably not convince them either.  But, just remember who knows the sneaky way down from the top the best. 

this way

 That's about all I've got time for.  In fact, no, that's way, way more than I had time for.  But a man's gotta say his piece and stick to it sometimes, and here's mine: 

C-HAM BY 2 LENGTHS.

Which, if you're C-ham's size, is just over 13 feet. 

Chime in with your picks, but don't forget -  keep your cards close to your chest, especially if you've got an ace or two, and don't play 'em until we hit Brokenback. 



vile, yet delightful. 



Up, up, up.

Dragon Rides and W101 Course Appendix

Something about New York City makes me want to listen to Christian rock. Not that I am ordinarily into that, and I know that there are those of you out there who think that Manhattan at rush hour is romantic and fun because you see Time Square on the Today Show every morning and Al Roker looks super friendly and huggy. But driving through Queens in January with the filth and potholes and $10 tolls, rats, angry assholes, blown out tires, dirty roadside furniture dumps, and the feeling that everything everywhere you look is a scam...well, I find the seek button on my rental radio and tolerate Creed before Creed was Creed, pray for Jesus or Al to be with me now.

I also yearn to ride the dragon. Something about life going a little too fast and complicated inspires the need to simplify, slow down a little, and ride a rigid 1x8 for a while. And this, in the year of the dragon itself, might be a theme of its own creation, the Chinese New Year.  I'm told that, astrologically speaking, Dragons prefer to live by their own rules, driven, unafraid of challenges, and willing to take risks. They’re passionate in all they do and they do things in grand style. So then, 100 rides on the dragon by next January?  I'm only on number 4, but goalsetting aside, sometimes you just need to shake yourself up a little.  Rigid, rooty singletrack might be a tad uncomfortable, but it's certain to give your life a good rattle. Perfect.

In the spirit of simplicity, I'm still running a 1x8. I considered a singleator and a gusset kit, but weary of having to actually use my brain to solve chain tension and chainline problems, plus the prospect of flat road one-track connector ass-chafing due to inadequate gears, and I made the reliable choice and loaded her up with an old 600 series road derailleur and a same era 11-26 cassette. And let me tell you, it shifts like a rusty, 1940's jeep. Again, perfect. The process is the point.  I'm in no hurry.  In fact, quite the opposite, I'm feeling a little rushed to stop rushing. 

Speaking of not rushing, let's talk about the Wilderness 101.  It would seem that multiple BRC racers who have never ventured into the wilds of Rattlesnakeavania have the itch to go test their mettle.  Resounding, Oh hell yes.  I won't use the space herein to debate the merits of 29er vs 26er on this course, tire selection, 2X9 vs 1x10, etc.  I just don't have that kind of knowledge anymore.  But, I can tell you where to poop.  So I drew up a little practical advice guide for the longest race on the NUE series, sent it down to Big John in Richmond last week, and I thought I'd post it up here as well for the semi-education of the not-so-masses.  Ahem...

29er vs 26er matters less than making sure you wipe thoroughly. 

W101 Appendix for Big John:

Course map:
http://www.mtntouring.com/mountain/maps/wilderness-101/2009_course_final.pdf

Mile 0 -  Coburn Park.  A jolly good time.  Right on Penn Creek, more of a river.  Good fishing.  Happy ball playing area, and perhaps a tussle for Mr. Jonas (john's dog) should he choose to accompany you on this great journey.  Good camping, shower in the river, but probably avoid showering near anyone named “Sandusky.” 

Mile 2 - First climb.  Yeah, that happened fast.  Good news is it's pretty mellow, but it's also packed with midget climbers sprinting for the top.  Roll over nice and easy and there’s a long, gravel decent.  Careful on a sweeping right hand turn.  Just a gravel road, but people always blow it here.  A couple years ago, some guy left approximately one third of his ear in the gravel on this turn. 

Mile 10 ish - At this point, I'll begin be a little vague with the mileage, and chances are so will you.  This is rolling gravel.  You are probably flying through here.  Slow down, it’s easy to go way too fast.  Sticking to someone’s wheel is nice, but not so nice that you should kill yourself doing it.  Spend as little time on the front of a group as possible.

Mile 22 or so - An amazing 1.5 track decent.  Gets a little more singletrackish every year.  Smooth as butter.  4 ish miles long?  Goes on forever.  Wooosh. 

Mile perhaps 28 -  A pretty radical rock garden in some singletrack somewhere in here.  Don’t hurt yourself.  A couple of long skinnies.  Inevitably, someone is laying on the ground here, cramping and screaming like it’s the end of the world.  Crowds tend to gather to see who can ride this section (but moreso, who can’t).  Probably not worth it.  A big climb immediately follows. 

Mile 40, for certain -  Aid 2.  40 miles in.  Eat yourself a sammich.  Keep takin’ it easy.  It’s been mostly a gravel road ride so far, and you can feasibly make it here before 9AM.  Do NOT get here before 9 AM. 

Mile 41 - Shit just got real.  A monster climb out of this thing.  1500 feet in about 4 miles or so.  It could be getting hot by now.  Probably a good time to shed a layer, especially if you are wearing pink panties.  They will be useless from here on out. 

Mile 50ish - For every monster climb, there is a great decent.  This one is gnarly, so watch yourself.  No need to ride all of it.  It beats on you – could be worth a stop on the way down to let the arms unpump. 

Mile 53ish -    Amish picnic area.  Look strong, they are watching you.

Mile 60, solid. -  Aid 3.  60 miles in.  I once made it here in 4 hours.  Do NOT get here in 4 hours.  Certain death awaits if you do.  Avoid a heavy feed – there’s a big, crampy, singletrack climb leading out of it.  It could be worth your while to grab a bar or a sammich and eat it while you hike a bit. 

Mile 61 - The aforementioned climb.  People crying on both sides of the trail, who, 3 hours ago, thought they could send this race in about 7 hours.  I’ll be about ¼ of the way up on the left, sobbing.  Please provide me with a sammich and encouragement.

Mile 66 -  Sassafras.  Goddammit this thing is good.  It’s got steep descending, flow, a berm or two, a jump with a cameraman, and it just rolls and rolls.  The problem is, you start to feel pretty terrible by about this point, and it’s a little tough to enjoy.  About halfway down, there’s a right hand switchback that 50% of riders blow.  No big deal, just don’t huck your meat straight off it into the peripherique. 

Mile 68? -   A super gnarly decent coming off a dirt rd.  It’s pretty straight, so if you just line it up you can send it.  But it’s sorta long.  And you’ve got to pedal through some sections to maintain your Mo.  Again, this might be worth walking bits of. 

Mile 70 -  A wee road section into aid 4.  30 miles to go.  The next 30 miles can take you either 3 hours or 12 hours, depending on what you’ve done to yourself up to this point.  Again, there’s a big climb right out of the aid station.  Don’t eat at the station, put something in your pocket and eat when you hit the top.

Mile 75ish, I can never see my watch because of the tears -   The top of perhaps the toughest climb.  Rattlesnakes are, literally, everywhere around you.  You might not see them, but they are in here.  Some of the densest rattler country in the USA.  If you must collapse in a pile of sobbing misery, try to stay on the trail. 

Mile? -  Some pretty rad singletrack atop Sand Mtn.  It’s, well, sandy.  But sorta neat.  Chances are you won’t appreciate sandy singletrack at this point, but in hindsight, you will reflect and think, wow, that was sorta neat. 

Mile 80something - Little Poe trail is a long, sort of flowy descent, but for some reason you have to pedal through the entire thing.  It’s not rocky, so I don’t understand why.  The physics of this one are lost on me.  But the bottom gets you to Aid 5.  It’s possible that SMT won’t get the permit to ride this section, in which case they’ll route you over to some godforsaken jeep road.  Less pedaling when you hit the top of it, but the decent will probably eat any tubes you have left.  Patch kit.  HTFU.  Stay positive. 

Mile 88 -  Aid 7.  If you can make it here, you can finish.  Too many people throw in the towel here.  Don’t be that guy.  Get a soda and turn your brain off.  Pedal, damnit.    

Mile 90 -   The run in.  It’s a long, flat railroad grade beside Penn Creek for a bit.  My grandfather used to fish in here.  Paved.  Super easy.  I’ve seen good riders walking this section because they just couldn’t take it anymore. 

Mile 94 -  Climb.  It’s really not too bad, but it’ll feel pretty tough.  If you’re feeling OK and you’re in a group, this is a good place to get away from them if that’s on your agenda.  One good attack usually let’s people know you’re still feeling like fighting, and if they are not, they’ll probably fold. Last year I got smoked and had to walk some, failing to avoid a dead porcupine carcass mid trail which I actually flatted on.  It is what you make of it.   

Mile 97 - Ridiculous, boulder-strewn, riverside singletrack.  Come back and try to ride it another time.  It’s a short hike back onto the railroad grade. 

Mile 99 -   A couple of dark train tunnels and you emerge onto the road back into Coburn.  The good news, if you are finishing in the dark, is you have your lights on anyway and the tunnels aren’t really a problem.  The good news, if you are without lights, is that you just rolled W101 in 12 hours or less.  Just roll straight and look for the light at the end of the tunnel (literally.)  You’re almost home. 

You take the good and the bad, that's just how racing goes.  I circled this thing my first year in 8:44.  Last year, I couldn't break 10 hours, and my wife, 6 months pregnant with twins at the time, had to push my bike from the finish line to our car because I was incapable.  I left a lot of pride at Coburn park. 

But, like all things shameful, I'm keen to return someday with a mind for redemption. 

Until then, keep climbing. 

Keep looking up up up. 

hear the snow crunch, see the kids bunch.

Nice pass, Bailey.