To Be a Mountain Biker

What I love about mountain biking is that mountain bikes go just about anywhere anytime. When the pavement ends, the ride goes on, and usually gets better. It is about unstopped adventure and true enduring with little to no boundaries. It is freedom.

Mountain bike national championships are only a few weeks away and while many would expect me to blog about racing or training, what interests me the most these days is fun rides and building cool trails. I look forward to my Thursday trail build day each week.

This week, we were working on a repair a few miles in from Lot C. With severe thunderstorms pressing, we opted to ride bikes in and haul tools with a trailer. This way we could high tail out if rain came before dark. We got only an hour or so of work done when it started to sprinkle. Working under the canopy of trees, it was hard to tell how hard it was really raining, but it seemed light enough to keep working. Then our phones gave off the verizon severe weather alert, and Art said “two more buckets!”.

Art dug and I started packing up. He dumped dirt and I tamped while he packed tools. We were on our bikes and heading out in no time but it was already dark in the woods from the storm clouds. I could see fire flies light up as I rode down the trail. The clouds opened up and drenched us with what seemed like warm water. I had this comforting dejavu feeling taking me back to nationals last year.

I could taste sweet rain mixing with sweat as it ran down my face and found it’s way onto my lips. My wet pants clung to my thighs. All these subtle sensations reminding me how good it feels to be alive and moving. As I passed duck pond, I noticed it was transformed from glass to texture from heavy rain. Then, everything went white in a flash of lightning. I hurried a bit up the final hill and hoped for the best as I passed down the corridor of trees going to lot C. Under the last tree there was another flash. Luckily it did not strike the area. We got into the truck and noticed it was hailing. What a great night of trail work, and how nice to just be a mountain biker!

Bearscat 50

When I registered for the Bearscat 50 in February, I had no idea what role it would play in my season. I had a few minor hick-ups in my spring training schedule, and I use the word “training” loosely. I like to think of it more as riding with a purpose. Whatever term you want to use, I had a minor set back and was trying to play catch up. The Bearscat 50 had been approaching too quickly and to be honest, I had some doubts on how well I would handle the race.

Day before the race, I received an email saying that it would be a mass start, staged according to estimated finish time. I had about an hour of panic, envisioning aggressive men elbowing and running me off course or brow beating me to stay behind them while they flailed about, but I decided to let go of all that negative stuff and take a deep breath. It is always best to embrace the positive. I slept better that night and was mentally prepared to be patient and positive towards my fellow racers at the start. After all, I entered this race mainly to become a stronger rider.

As it turned out, the traffic on the start kept my heart rate down, allowing me to ease into the race, as well as offering me a lot of practice on passing, both in handling skills and etiquette. By the end of the Pumphouse trail, I had somewhat calmly worked my way through what seemed like 100 Keystone Cops and finally found some space to ride.

It was kind of strange, but it seemed like I would pass the guys in the single-track and they would pass me back on the climbs. Once a strong climber with apprehension on the descents, I now find myself struggling on the climbs and chaffing when I want to flow more in the technical. A few seconds of patience often allows enough rest to pass cleanly. This was great passing practice for Nationals, and I now know that I need to work on my climbing.

The course was pretty awesome and I can honestly say that for most of the time, all I thought of was the actual riding. I had received an early report from a marshal that I was 3rd women on course. My team mates Darlene and Marianne, as well as my riding buddy, Wendi were all close to me on course, yet with the entertaining trails, traffic and rest stops, I did not know where we all were through most of the race. Then in the last few miles, and right before Porcupine trail on our last lap, we merged into a train together, and I took the lead. You may expect some narrative of a dramatic sprint to the finish, but at 45 miles tired and as humble as we all are, we all rolled in quite calmly within minutes of each other. Dar and I even held hands for a tie for 3rd.

Our finish time: 5:43. Our estimated finish time, and where we lined up: 6:30. Once again, the humble Jeresy girls, rocked the rocks in style almost an hour faster than we thought we would. I am feeling much better about Nationals after this race!

A Junkyard Wedding in Bend

Event: Junkyard Wedding.
Activities: Mountain biking.
Destination: Bend, Or

Oregon had been on my "must visit" list, yet I had never been. This trip was long overdue. It took a dear friend getting married to seal the deal. So, six of us headed out to Bend to witness and share in this grand event, and of course, we would spend a week mountain biking as well.



As we flew across the country, my anticipation grew. The dismal clouds that engulfed Chicago finally gave way to snow covered mountains in Montana. I had been to Montana, so that was not a new sight, but as we approached Portland I noticed wind farms along the Columbia River. And then, snow covered volcanic peaks came into view. Independent and statuesque, they rose into the sky alone with no range around them. This was all new to my eyes and indeed spectacular.



After a hectic morning getting set up with rental bikes, we got out on the trails to ride with the bride to be. The trails themselves were also a sea change difference from our home trails. First off, no rocks. The trails were super buffed out and smooth. The most noticeable difference, and this comes from a trail builder, is that the trails were bike specific. There were burmed turns, one way trails and bike only trails. Bend is a biker town indeed!

The big deal of the day was riding the Woops trail. Imagine sampling a slightly downhill 2 mile combination of pump track, table tops and woopty’s. What a hoot!! Every single one of us came out of the trail smiling like a kid. This is a must ride if you are ever in Bend.


The bridge that we crossed to start one of the most beautiful and spectacular rides....


McKenzie River Trail .... WOW! ....


clear lakes


gigantic trees


volcanic rock and ferns


pine forest


100 foot gushing waterfalls


crystal clear, brilliant blue pools


pools that come from under ground



The trail zigzagged along the river, crossing it many times. There were ups, downs, volcanic rocks gardens and smooth twisty sections that meandered through forests of gigantic trees. We did a double car shuttle so that we could see the whole length and still make it back for the rehearsal dinner. It was really spectacular! When I got to the top of Sahalie Falls, I was awed with the sheer volume of water launching over the edge. No guard rails on this trail, so you really felt the closeness to the natural forces... spectacular!





The Wedding:

I am fortunate to have a friend like LW. My life has been enriched through our friendship and being inspired by her gentle spirit, her passions, her creativity and her connection to a simple life. Her wedding held true to her passions in many ways. Held in a salvage facility, the eclectic mix of table linens, dishes, and cuisine at the wedding, were as refreshing as the mix of people joined together that day. It was awesome to see her get married to her perfect match in a junkyard. It was a perfect celebration. Add margaritas and dancing, and you have a great wedding that begins a life story of these beautiful two people!







Our motto of the week was 500 laughs a day. I’ll have to admit that this was harder than we thought it would be. We had a schedule to follow, and that did add some stress now and then. I have to thank Patty for often interjecting laughs to keep us on track. It seemed like every day we over extended our riding time and were under the gun to get home in time for social activities. We did manage to end our trip with some epic adventure, and although I am smiling now, there were fewer smiles during that ride.

It was our last day of riding and we headed out for what we though was a three hour ride. I can assure you that my legs were toast as we had ridden mountain bikes close to 150 miles already. Rain showers were pressing, so I packed a trash bag in my pack, as I had no real raincoat. I did this with superstitious hopes that it would keep the rain away. We were doing a big loop with no short cut and that may have been a risky choice, but our NJ transplant friend, now Bend bike mechanic/dog musher, wanted to show us his favorite trail loop.

I struggled early on the ride because my legs were really tired. As we approached higher elevation, we were faced with hundreds of blown down pine trees and snowdrifts. Some snowdrifts were 3 feet deep, making it hard to find the trail. This went on for almost 5 miles. It was actually a welcome break for my climbing legs, to have to get off and walk and lift my bike over trees. At that point we were feeling like we were digging ourselves in past the point of no return. I even began to question if we would make it back to the bike shop in time to return our rental bikes.

Finally we reached our trail junction to start our descent down the other side of the mountain. This was comforting, however, the snow and blown down trees continued. Finally the trails cleared and it began to rain. I put on my trash bag, which was a lifesaver to keep my core warm. I could barely feel my hands when we got to the bottom, but I stayed positive as I knew I was past the half way point and there would be more downhill from this point on.

Eventually the sun returned and the bag came off. Our loop spit us out at the top of woops trail, so we had one more run down woops. However, we were all so tired, I wondered if the trail would make us smile like it did the first day. Tired, beaten, soaked wet and feeling lifeless, I smiled my way down! After 45 miles and 5.5 hours ride time, we were done.

The next morning we were up early to drive to Portland for our flight that was terminally delayed and doomed from the start. Watching lightning nearly strike our plane during landing and sleeping in an airport refugee camp in cots seemed minor compared to the effort of our last ride. I made a point to try and catch up on smiles while camped out in O'hare Airport. The sun came up the next morning and those of us still laughing ran to the window to see the sun rise. It was a hopeful sight that seemed perfectly timed near the end of a few epic days. I am now home resting up for Bearscat 50.

Passing the Torch

Way, way behind schedule this year, but here is my recap for my first race of the season:

I usually have a few races and plenty of training rides under my belt by mid April, but this year was a bit different. At some point, I just gave up. I got back from Arizona in mid March, had a great few weeks on the bike, and I was poised to take charge of race training once it warmed up and the snow melted. But something unusual happened, …. spring never came. After a month of pulling on tights and winter jackets to try to go out on my road bike in 30 mile an hour winds, I folded. I decided to put my efforts into trail building and trail advocacy. With an increase in hiking activities and unknowingly riding a bike with a broken rear shock, I some how, ended up with a strained glute and an extremely sore back.

So now I was back on my trusty, old, steel, hard tail at the start line of the Jamis Bicycles H2H Spring Cleaning Race at Wawayanda State Park. Discouraged, sore and lacking race fitness, I started my race, knowing it would be a very long and slow day of riding. However, I was determined to finish the race, if I could. I proceeded to get my heart rate up on my first lap, but it was only a matter of time before I had to resign myself to just plodding along just to make it to the finish. Half way into my race I had a discouraging thought that I had just passed the point where I was on my longest ride of the year, and still had half the race to go.

I do not recall all that much about the race, except there were some gigantic mud holes and running water in spots. Many people mention rocks, but I just call that riding and really do not remember any rocks in particular. It was just a long steady ride that seemed to go on for a long time. I am happy to report that my back did not hurt during the race. Perhaps it was because everything else hurt enough that I did not notice my back. I did finish the race, and I am still amazed that I was not the last person on course to finish.

Through my 20 years of racing, I realize that I have learned to hang in there and get the job done, and by doing so, it seems to get easier each time. However, Sundays race was extremely humbling, and I do not know how many more are left in me. I certainly am not going to quit racing today, and I have much to do before Nationals. I also have a master plan: It is to pass the torch on to other women coming into the sport. It is great to see more women racing and taking charge of their lives on bikes. There is so much healthy fun out there for the taking, and I sure hope we all take and share or pay it forward in some way. Ladies- Go get some!

Fear of Flying

Usually I am very aware of takeoff when I am on a plane, but on this particular day, I felt a little bit different. The winter had been so cold and snowy, and I was finally en-route to someplace warm, where I hoped to ride my mountain bike on dirt under a warm sun. I looked out the window and I was overcome with a feeling of peace. There is something very comforting about a big, deep, blue sky above. White puffy clouds gave only tiny glimpses of the cold, white, frozen world below. It felt oddly encouraging.

Usually, planes make me a bit uneasy, mostly because to my simple brain, a metal tube flying through the air long distances seems to defy physics. As a child, I did not fly. Actually, my whole family did not fly for a long time. I grew up in a family with fear of flying. As much as I want to say that I am over that phase, there will always be that deeply buried fear. So, what would cause such a fear? … the story of my grandfather’s death.

October 28 1949, Air France Lockhead L-749 Constellation crashes into Monte Redondo, San Miguel Island Azores, killing 11 crew members, and 37 passengers. There is plenty of information available about this crash because Middle Weight boxing World Champion Marcel Cerdan was killed on the same flight. Stories and even a movie were created about Cerdan's life and affair with Edith Piaf. As for my grandfather Raoul, my grandmother was shipped a body thought to be my grandfather. Weeks later a misidentification was reported and my dad had to identify another body which turned out to be my grandfather. He could only identify my grandfather by his teeth.

The whole story seemed kind of creepy to me as a kid, but there is a good reason why my dad told me this story. I am sure it bothered him emotionally at the time, but he looked at death, realized his fragile mortality and decided to keep living. This is something each one of us must do at some point in our life. Fear can keep us alive, it can also keep us from living. There is a time to look past fear and get on living.

My dad is gone, and now Art’s dad is gone too. A little of them is in us both. Whether we care to embrace it or not, it is life.

Today’s journey in my life, is to travel to a sunny place where I will ride my bike, laugh, love and live. I will live a little bit like my dad and Art will live a little bit like his dad. It is a beautiful day! .....Hello Arizona!

Homemade Bone Broth Soups

During the winter, I like to make soup every week. They are healthy, economical and taste yummy on a cold winters day. I usually start with roasting a chicken for dinner. After using most the meat, I save the whole carcass to make bone broth or stock.

Bone broth is an excellent source of minerals and is known to boost the immune system and improve digestion. It's high calcium, magnesium, and phosphorus content make it great for bone and tooth health. Bone broth also supports joints, hair, skin, and nails due to its high collagen content.

In selecting the bones for broth, look for high quality bones from grass fed cattle or bison, pastured poultry, or wild caught fish. Since you’ll be extracting the minerals and drinking them in concentrated form, you want to make sure that the animal was as healthy as possible.




Fill large pot with water. Add:
chicken carcass or bones
1 chopped carrot
1 chopped stalk of celery
½ chopped leek
salt

Cook for 2-3 hours. Let cool, and then run through strainer and remove all bones, skin and cartilage. Use broth to make your favorite soups.

I like a tortilla soup with greens.

Tortilla Soup:
stock
chopped fresh chili or pepper
chili powder
cumin
cilantro
rice
carrots
spinach or kale

Winter Fun and Games

Winters come and go, but this year winter seems colder and icier than most I can remember in the last decade. It is not that we have had any big snow falls this year, just long periods below freezing with some form of ice and snow cover, making it hard to ride my bike outside regularly. I enjoy the big snowfalls that allow for XC skiing , but this year has been lean on that as well. This winters activities have included a few days out skiing on the county golf course and a few scattered days riding the road or trails when the conditions have allowed, but in all it has not seemed like a lot.

One thing I have noticed is the feeling of real winter when I am outside. The kind of real winter that I have not noticed in a while. Whether real winter just has not been or I have been in too much denial to notice it during the past decade, is something I do not know. It just seems to be here now.

I have been re-acquainted with the squeaky sound of walking on snow, and cold dry air that freezes my snot. There have been days so cold, that cold doesn't feel cold anymore. As long as the sun shines, I am happy. I feel a tad out of sorts not spending time with bikes each day, but the bike has been replaced with my puffy coat. My puffy coat has been a good friend that I never leave home without these days. Right now I can only dream of the day when I strip down to my skin, leave my coat behind and feel the sun and wind once again on my arms. This thought keeps me going.

Appalachian Hike

Winter Arrives in New Jersey

As a cyclist, winter is something I endure more than enjoy. I know that without black, we would not have white and without rest we would not have strength. The seasons are a perfect combination that I am lucky to experience. Winter just seemed to come fast this year.

December rolled in and so did winter. Christmas is only a week away, and already three snowstorms and the woods are covered under a blanket of snow. I have already tried to hike on ice, ride my mountain bike on icy roads and XC ski on crusty snow. All of which fall into the endure category. There is no doubt that the snow and ice have been beautiful, but winter conditions outside have not been ideal just yet.

The really good news is that the days are already getting longer, which means the countdown to spring is not all that far away. So, in the mean time, there is plenty of hope for some winter fun and perhaps a few long rides when the weather allows.

Crossing Over

After 11 weeks recovering from a sprained ankle, I am finally able to race cyclo-cross. I gave it a few experimental tries in October, but came up short and felt like I needed more time to recover enough to handle the basic off the bike part of cross. As it turns out, this forced time off of racing has almost been a gift. The weather this fall has been so wonderful, and this free time has allowed me to do some great mountain biking. I did so much mountain biking that I could almost say I was getting tired of riding. I have a hard time admitting that I could be sick of riding my mountain bike, but yes, pixy needs a break from her favorite thing now and then, and that is where cyclo-cross fits into the plan.

I took my lack luster attitude on the mountain bike as a sign to do something else, and signed up to race CX at Fair Hill. Fair Hill has a really fun course and Art agreed to ride White Clay on Friday to make for a worthwhile drive south. I nearly fell asleep on my White Clay ride, and I feared that CX would not go well. However, that was not the case. I had such a good race, that I decided to race HPCX the next day. Somehow, I fell right back into racing like I never missed a beat, and somehow I was back to racing every weekend.

Yesterday was Supercross Cup: The 3/4 women had an 8:45 start and were cut to 30 minutes. It hardly seemed worth getting up at 5:00 am to do 3 - 7minute laps, so I checked my options. I had never raced with the men before, but I decided to race my age group with the men, as it would be a better training option. This would mean I would get a full 45minute race. It also meant that I would be out there with Art. Art was second to be called to the start, and before the front row was full, they called my name. I was a little flustered as I assumed I would take the back row, but I ended up right next to Art in the front row. Art looked to me and said “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten to do this but” and he raised his hand to high five me. As we did our high five, I heard “15 seconds”, and we were off!

Amazingly, I held onto the whole group to the bottom of the first hill, then a few, including Art, got away, but I still had a few in my sight in front as well as a few already behind me. Not a bad place to be, I thought. Then I clipped my foot on the barriers, nearly tripping myself. The barriers were a tad tall for me to clear on the up hill with my short legs and weak ankle. From there on, the course got fun with twists, roots, holes, ups, downs and even the stupid curbs. I can’t say I liked the cubs, or even felt comfortable jumping them, but I made the most of what I could do with them, and made it work in my favor somehow.

As much as I love racing the ladies in the Mac series, I enjoyed the lack of expectations that came with this day of racing with the men. I felt a certain freedom with it, and of course one of the extra perks is the heckling and hand ups that do not always take place with the women’s B races. I managed to grab a cookie on the run up. My heart rate was so high that I did not want to eat it right there in fear of puking, so I stuffed it in my skin suit. Instantly, it started bouncing in my bra and driving me crazy. So in between technical sections, I managed to dig it out and stuffed it under my pant leg.

Later I rolled in with 5 very consistent laps (ranging from 7:31 to 7:42) to take a mid pack 6th place. I took a cool down lap and ate my yummy ,warm and now, salty cookie. By the time I found my way to finish line, Art had taken 2nd place. ….A good day all around representing our age group.


Photo by Christy Perkins


Photo by Christy Perkins