Summer Surprise

I dream of riding in shorts and short sleeves all winter, and somehow a few days of summer arrived bypassing spring. Warm days and a hot sun before the trees are ready to offer shade. I have enjoyed evening meals outdoors and hanging out in sandals without a thought of sweaters and down coat.

CCWC09

Somewhere in a county far away, 23 like-minded bike racers joined together on a training mission. Three days, two disciplines, many miles and lots of climbing made up the weekend. Some may call it a race, but I like to think of it as a training camp in a stage race disguise. Alias names and places were used to keep this event top secret and known only to the underground society. The weather gods gifted the bike racers with a beautiful warm spring weekend.

Day one: took place in Briana’s little patch (as if ?) … of the woods. This was a 4.5 mile TT section of real woods trails, with a techy rock climb, 2 mud sections and a small stream crossing. Briana, with the home advantage took the stage with a 61 second advantage over Dumpster Boy. Reigning champion Crispy Kernal won the ladies by 91 seconds over yours truly, too tired princess “2TP”. Goat, missing his start and then breaking his chain, earned the coveted DFL jersey. The boy and I were coughing up a lung all the way home. Ahhh, feels good to be racing again.

Day two: 20 of us rolled out on our road bikes. This time everyone had gears, and a good thing, because we were going to climb. We were to have 2 timed sections that would count towards the GC, 2 sprints, and 2 KOM’s. Our first timed section was up Sun Cheese Mountain. Stick, Kernal, Tex, the Mayor and I were battling it out on the bottom section. Then I saw JimBoob and proceeded to reel him in with what seemed like a train behind me. Once Boob was caught, the train rode by, but I fell off a bit finishing behind that group and 40 seconds behind Kernal.

Next timed section was from Cheesepack Inn to the top of Cheesebrook Rd. Twelve miles, part rolling, two major bumps, and then a daunting 13-18% grade up the last 3/4 mile that will humble just about any cyclist. Last year I tried hanging onto the lead groups down the rolling part, and got spit off the back 3 or 4 times by them and the passing groups. This year I felt good on the previous section, so I tried that again, and it worked. I held with them easily all the way to the first bump, and then passed a few and hung behind “shake and bake” to the top. I felt a little shaked and baked myself, zig-zagging the top part in the 84 degree full sun, but made it to the top as the first women. Some how Kernal was snoozing and never got latched onto the lead group, so I gained back the time I lost on the last timed section, which was a lucky break.

We finished the day with 79 miles and 8200 feet of vertical climbing. Briana stayed in the GC leaders jersey by 2:25, Kernal in the women’s GC jersey by 92 seconds, and The Hamburglar with a 7 minute margain in the DFL jersey, drooling over his soon to be beer prize. Goat now wore the Sprinters Jersey, Otto the KOM, Blockhead the U23 and Dumpster in the 45+.

Day three: 17 of us set out into the great woods on our mountain bikes for 38 miles with the same number of competitions as the previous day. Right from the start my legs felt like toast and I was struggling to hang onto the group. To make things worse I was feeling brain dead. Imain Imaoutski gave some code instructions that may have seemed normal for everyone else, but that I could not decipher in my stupor. So besides being exhausted, I got lost. Thankfully I was with Tex, because my brain was still in slumber. By the time we got to the wrong finish area, we found others as well. Luckily the unofficial pro-rated our times, and we were still in the games. Grabbed a quick bite to eat and continued on to the next timed section.

By this time I was way beyond tired and wondering how I would make it up the next climb, if I could not even follow instructions. I pushed as hard as I could, but it felt like a snails pace. On the turns I could see a train of riders behind me, Kernal included, and wondered why they were not passing this snail. When I asked if anyone needed to come by, all I got was “nahhh, not yet”. I continued this way all the way to the top, and it seemed like a long, long way, feeling apologetic for holding the group up. I was surprised to find out after, that I was the motivation pulling them all the way. Group rides can be great in that way, offering opportunities to be on both ends of the chain of motivation. So although I was doubting myself for coming out this last day, I now had some purpose for being there.

Results:
Briana LaFevre - GC
Crusty Kernal Curd - GC female
Blockhead Square Wheels - U23
Imain Imaoutski - 45+
Otto von Emmental - KOM
Butt Insurance - Sprinter
The Hamburglar - DFL

It was great to see both Briana and Kernal back out racing and in the leaders jerseys, after being out most of last year from illness. Overall it was a successful weekend filled with challenge, great people and good times. The group as a whole rode awesome, .5mph faster on the road than last year. Fin and newcomer G-unit rocked it with the guys and should feel ready to jump into racing this year. Looking forward to CCWC10!

Healing a Clipped Wing

Swing the leg over the bike, and I head out into the woods. As I start to turn the pedals, my legs begin to burn. Each labored breath rips deep in my lungs and reminds me of my mortal weakness. This goes on for a bit, but eventually my legs seem to disappear from my mind, working solely on their own without question. My lungs begin to feel quenched of air and take a relaxed simple rhythm. The relaxation of my breath stretches out to the end of my fingers. I feel as if I were a hawk floating through the woods in search of something not known to me yet. Momentum begins to replace the feeling of gravity and the texture of all that is below my tires becomes the wind to ride upon, …gliding over rocks and roots with just a slight change of position or a dip of the wing to guide the path of my trajectory. Once in the single track, I rarely ride a straight line, but ride from one arc to another, as if I were an ice skater always on edge. The system to my flight becomes intuitive. I am lost in flight.



Being injured as an athlete is always a difficult thing to go through. We take time off the bike, and can easily slip into feelings of anxiety, doubt, self-pity or denial, to name a few. It can get to us all in some way. Last year it was Lyme disease for me, and now I am nearly six weeks into a torn rotator cuff. Neither of these injuries has been life threatening, or even kept me completely off the bike, but they can certainly slow me down in life for a bit. When you look at the big picture, these are minor set backs, but still require some patience, trust and focus to heal. Truthfully, riding a bike is a gift, and the ability to do so may just be on loan to us. We just don’t always realize this, until it is temporarily taken away.

Although I did not see it at the time, when I look back to last year when I had Lyme, I see a path of rest that led me to my first cycle-cross race, and guided me into an energized season of winter road riding. There is a small part of me that feels some disappointment in having to slow down after such a strong winter, but it is now my path, and I will embrace it, and see where it takes me. So, although the exact destination of this path is unknown, I do plan to fly again.

Desert Escape

watching a cactus bloom over the week


saguaro and penstemon going around the mountain


a cow carcass that has been dried and preserved for over a year


only one day the sun took off to let a dark sky perform


some happy desert visitors ;-)


always get a foot in for perspective


a girls choice: flowers and I9


catching a breeze on a rock, high above cherry tank


prickly pear, a new friend/enemy to Patti, and penstemon, supplying nectar for butterflies and hummingbirds galore


cholla: they look cute, but don't even think about it.


burnt mesquite

Once again, Art and I returned to the desert in search of some much longed for sun and warmth that is missed over winter. On arrival, the sun greeted us with it's warm touch, and the desert was alive and beautiful in many ways. Out the gate of the property onto the trail each day, we found great riding that is so different than what we have in New Jersey. After the days ride, we could chill out at Way Out West B&B. The property is the closest place I can imagine to an oasis, alive with the gentle sounds of nature and the welcoming colors of spring, that rejuvenate a worn down winter soul.

The desert has a distinct harshness, that is home to some amazing cool stuff. Some of the cool stuff must be well respected, as was reminded to Patti after falling on a prickly pear and getting hundreds of tiny thorns in her bum .....ouch! It took a few shots of tequila and several of us an hour to tweeze them out of her. She certainly deserves a badge for good sportsmanship for her cheerful de-thorning.

During our visit: Nine butterflies were born, cactus bloomed, Cheech the rattlesnake emerged from his den, Chester the rat gorged on bananas, and the hawks were building a nest among all sorts of birds and quail going about their daily business. Spring was there, and it was nice to be a part of it .... a much appreciated vacation. I patiently wait for the arrival of spring in New Jersey.

First Signs of Spring

goodbye snow....



hello flowers.



once this is gone, shoveling may become just a memory.


We have had two warm days, and I can not find the words to express how great it felt to be out riding my bike with arms and legs exposed to the sun, wind, water and wahtever. It is a re-birth I go through every spring, bringing sensations new, or so they feel new at that time. Two days, 100 miles, who knows how much climbing, my whole body was stuck in a smile. All of this more appreciated after spending a week on my butt due to falling on the ice and jamming my shoulder. The bruises healing and the few pains I had seemed to be lost in the sunshine. Hooray for spring!

L & M Express to Suffer City

Believe it or not, just the name “Suffer City” was enough to lure me in. Plus the ride leaders, Denis and Cliff put together some great routes with lots of enjoyable climbing through some scenic settings at a time of year when I need to get out on my road bike and build up my leg strength and base endurance. What I really like is that although their rides are rated A/B*, the routes are truly A caliber routes. Being a women, who can not quite keep up with some of the speeds that men can crank out in the A rides, I really enjoy the same challenges offered in the A ride terrain, but at the B* pace.

Besides our leaders, our group consisted of Art, Willy, Marianne, Nate, Jim, Rob and myself. It was really cold off the start as we headed right into the wind and the sun had not quite come over the mountain yet. Luckily the pace was quick enough to keep me working overtime, and my fingers came back in about twenty minutes. The sun was with us all day long, which was perfect.

Our first climb was Tweed from 9W. I was warned ahead and was actually nervous, because I had never gone up it and was wondering if it was possible for my humble winter legs. The ramp is quite steep, and when descending it in the other direction, it can be very dicey in the winter when strewn with ice and piles of road salt. As soon as the ramp came into view, I knew it would not be a problem. The gradual climb on the top had surprisingly better views than in the other direction. Marianne and I climbed side by side, looking out over the Hudson River, and down on the Tappan Zee Bridge.

I like to build rather than blow up on the first climb, so I tempered my speed a bit, and absorbed the views, as I knew there would be plenty more climbing ahead. We continued north, and by this time, I realized that we were doing some of route reversed from last year. This would put the serious climbing in the first half, which could mean not quite as much suffering. Marianne and I hung in there pretty well climbing, always keeping someone in sight, or close to sight. I spotted some more great views that were missed in the other direction. Many of the climbs seemed harder this way, and I was able to embrace the climbs because they seemed new.

On the return home from Nyack, we had a very long stretch on 9W where we encountered many cyclists along the way. The terrain was more rolling, and the group split and merged many times. We picked up a few tag alongs, and traded pulls. I did a little more pulling and riding out of the draft, which I feel good about. Last year at the end of the ride, my legs were quivering and unable to even hang in the draft. This year my legs seemed much better. The ride ended up being 62 miles, and by the time I got home, my legs were just tired enough. Afterwards, on each trip up the stairs my legs talked back to me, but no harsh words. A good ride indeed.

Pictures taken a week and a half later on an abbreviated revisit solo ride up to Tweed.

Nirvana Day Ride

It felt great to be out today in 50 degree weather. It did not really matter that we got rained on for the first half hour and then one months worth of melted snow and road salt was getting splattered onto us for several hours. It just felt great to put all my energy into riding instead of trying to keep warm. As the snow receded, rivers of running water grew on the streets. Smiling cyclists were everywhere.



Todays ride had just as much to do with completing my old bike project as with logging some climbing miles on my legs. Finally the Team Fuji was complete with White Industries dos enos freewheel. The bike had been found under my sisiters deck and was in mint condition. The conversion consisted of pulling off some shifters and cogs, replacing the handlebar with a newer one I had in the parts bin at home, replacing tires and tubes with ones from my tire pile, and a new stem donated from a bike shop. I purchased two chainrings 40t and 42t, a freewheel cog, pink chainring bolts and some new bar tape, .... all under $150.



The warm temperatures created much excitement at the start of the ride, and I was already beginning to meditate on my lack of gears and cleansing of distracting gadgets. I had no computer, no heart-rate monitor, no clock, no gps, no shifters, and most importantly, no expectations. By the time I reached my first hill, I had already found my rhythm. While working in a pace line of fancy bikes and forcing some uphill surges, I came to my first enlightenment: It has less to do with the bike than you think. Riding a SS reminds me of what I am and what I CAN do, and that is usually more than I think I can.



Returning home on the back half of the ride, I felt so much better than I did last weekend. I noticed a few members of the group that began to tire and cramp. Familiar with that very same feeling myself, only a week before, I felt lucky to have that behind me already. The rhythm of the single-speed , helped flush out my legs with each little incline, and before I knew it, I was home with energy to spare. Maybe a bigger ride next weekend.

Winters Day

Gliding in the snow
Sun, moon and wind watch me play
On a winters day.

Following the Road the Plow Takes

It is inevitable that during some time of the winter, mountain biking comes to an end. I always hope for only a short time without, but sometimes, as mountain bikers we must look elsewhere to feel the wind on our face and get the satisfaction of a hard effort, all with giddy smiles. These feelings I do not often find in a spin class or on the trainer.

Looking out across the frozen iced over sea of snow, I knew the time had come. With temps rising close to 34, the plowed roads would be my safest choice, so as much as I love to ride up in the park, I decided to stay in suburbia. Art had just converted my sister's 1985 Team Fuji into a single-speed, and during the last few days, the new bar tape had been calling out to me for attention, so without hesitation, I grabbed the retro single-speed.

During the first few miles, I decided my gearing was too tedious and spun out. It was still set from my last hilly ride. I do not have the single-speed set up like a normal single-speed. It's what some refer to as a "dos". It has 2 chain ring and cog combinations of equal number of combined teeth and no derailleurs. So what I had to do to switch, was pull off the road and slide the rear wheel forward and manually change the gear combo. Thirty seconds and "viola", super soul rider is back up to speed and cruising with the taller gear.

Once I looked past the SUV's, dirty snow and piles of salt, it was quite nice to be out. I find the adventure of riding by myself to be energizing, and then throw in the discipline of one gear and I'm even more energized. I followed the road or wherever the snow and ice was not. Although much of my concentration was on avoiding potholes, cars and buses, I felt the wind on my face, and my heart pounded whenever I went uphill. I returned home sweaty like always, but with more energy than before. It was a good winter ride.

Ice Bike

With all the rain we had yesterday, I was a bit skeptical about riding when I received Marianne's email to ride. I had the afternoon off from work, and wanted to drop off some things at the park office, so I thought I would poke my head in and see how it was. What a surprise when I saw all the ice. The park employees were in the gardens taking pictures of the glittering branches and glazed plants. Driving straight into the sun, I had to stop the car to absorb all that I could see. It was spectacular.



Once dressed and ready to go, we were glad to still have our studded mountain bike tires on, because the ground was completely covered in shiny ice like a fancy french pastry. As we rode across the field trail, I couldn't help but smile with what my eyes could see. I could tell instantly that it was slippery, and I would need to be cautious with the brakes. I passed the odd green bamboo grove, which stood out against the winter palate, and they were all bowing down to me as if I were queen. Perhaps I was, riding on top of the ice like a super hero.



There were lots of ooh's and aah's mixed with yikes and uh-oh ...holy craps! Needless to say the trails were pretty tricky, so we opted for gentler grades. We got into a good groove climbing up to Pierson Ridge, but the way down was insane. Hunters trucks had made ruts combined with snow drifts and all iced and frozen solid. I managed to keep it upright, but Willy went down pretty hard. It was his first day with the studded tires, so maybe he needed to figure out his boundaries with them.



Overall it was a fantastic time, and quite unexpected. You never know exactly what you will get out in the woods, but sometimes the adventure of surprise is half the fun. Don't let the excuses keep you home. Get out and ride!