Short Days

photo by Art




My first amaryllis bloom chose to open on the solstice.

Crossing the Line

Last Saturday was my last cyclocross (CX) race of the season. If you asked me on Oct 15, before my first CX race this year, if I would be racing CX in December, I would have said, no. Last year my CX season ended with me feeling burned out and I questioned if I had done the right thing by upgrading to Cat 3. I told myself that I just raced too long into the season, and I would not do that again.

This past year has been incredible, and I have come leaps and bounds with figuring out what cross is all about and how to extend my fitness into the fall. This past season I did 9 CX races, won 2 of those races plus some cash, and diced it up with some pretty fast ladies. So here I am, 2 weeks into December, writing my last race report for 2010:

Hudson Valley Cross (HVCX) was a small race just north of New Jersey that was being put on by my friends Tim and Ed. Yes, December 11 is a tad late in the season to still be racing, but these guys put together great courses and I wanted to show my appreciation and support the event. In addition, they had a decent payout, so I had the chance to win some cash while having a hoot.

Unfortunately, the turnout was really light, but the venue was as nice as I expected, nestled in a small park overlooking the Hudson River. Everyone was cheery when I arrived, and I quickly hopped out and walked the course with my camera to see all the little berries and views that I would inevitably miss during my race when I would be tearing my lungs out chasing girls around the course.

At this point I did not really feel like I was in a racing mood. I had only been on my bike Tuesday the week before and was feeling stiff from not exercising. On top of that I drank a few glasses wine with dinner the night before. I am telling you this, but not necessarily advising anyone to do this. I usually avoid or limit the amount of alcohol consumed the night before a race, but had let that rule slip as well as a few other dietary restrictions for the last race of the year. I had already begun to let my guard down for the holidays.

There were only 3 women that took the line in the open/elite field. Even sadder was that there were no men elite’s at all. Us ladies were the main event, and only a handful of people, mostly our husbands gathered around to cheer. Christina’s husband, Tommy was the lap horn blower. The whole setting was actually very comforting, considering the pain that would be unleashed in seconds.

Once under way, the leader set a hard pace that put me in a bother, but I did manage to hold her wheel. I have the advantage of pushing a little harder into my fitness because my bike handling skills are second nature from racing a mountain bike for 17 years. So although I felt close to out of control, I was able to keep it upright and stay on the bike in the first technical section.

I eventually found my stride and I decided to take a risk and pass the leader on a long straight. My thinking was that if I could stay in front to the first turn, I could put some distance on her in the twisting decent. It worked, and I held pretty steady at about 8 seconds ahead for 2 laps. Putting the gas on to pass, had my stomach on the verge of cramping. Once I got leveled out, I was able to pull away increasing the gap even more, ending the race and the season on a very positive tone. At the time I crossed the finish line, I crossed the line from my race season to winter. From that day on, my eyes will be looking to 2011.

Sunday as rain fell, I stayed in the house and decorated my Christmas tree like people do this time of year. I was not a bike racer that day. I did not even think about riding my bike. I drank more wine with dinner and enjoyed the feeling of being done. Monday I got out for my first winter ride, and it started to snow. How perfect, I thought.








Dan, my pick for most improved mountain biker of the year!

You Lucky Dinges

Now with a December cyclo-cross race behind me, and a muddy one at that, I feel as if I am one step closer to being a real cyclo-cross racer. As the first muddy race of the year, I was surprisingly quite comfortable with riding in the mud. I guess one can really appreciate things once you go without them for awhile. I'm not sure if all the ladies felt as sentimental about the mud as I did, but my race year may not have felt complete without some mud.

One of the not so good parts about late season cross is the ice and cold. I saw a bunch of guys go down in the morning on the icy trails, and was real thankful to have a later start with more mud than ice. I wore just about every article of clothing I owned and was quite toasty while riding. I'll admit, the hanging out in the cold all day was beginning to get to me, but I did my best to deal with it. I actually warmed up on my trainer while wrapped in a blanket.

My race started off well, getting right to the front which successfully got me through the first mud bog cleanly. Unfortunately for a few others, there was a bit of of a pile up in the mud hole. It may seem really bad to fall in the mud, but in 15 minutes we all were going to be covered in mud anyway. It was really slippery. I was fighting to keep it upright around every turn. Sometimes a tire would just let go on the flat and turn me sideways. It was great practice for my balance and my ability to nurse for traction and still try to put the power down.

As each lap went by, what I could grip on was disappearing, and I started to get brambles tangled in my wheels and drive train. I tried to push ahead but felt like I kept losing places. I was so glad to hear the bell for the last lap. At that point my front derailieur was so clogged with mud that it would not work and I was small ring only. Legs burning, I gave it the final push, and held a 5th place finnish. I received some cash and a cool lucky horseshoe. What sealed the day was the belgian wafel with "speculoos" topping that Art bought for me after the race.

CX at Greystone

Frog in training ...take the leap.


...another kind of leap.


It was all business down the boulevard in front of Greystone "ward 40" at the start of my race.

Greystone, now with most it's windows boarded shut, was home to great depression era folk singer/songwriter Woody Guthrie, who suffered from Huntington's disease. Guthrie, most famous for writing "This Land is Your Land".

This land is your land This land is my land
From California to the New York island;
From the red wood forest to the Gulf Stream waters
This land was made for you and Me.

As I was walking that ribbon of highway,
I saw above me that endless skyway:
I saw below me that golden valley:
This land was made for you and me.

I've roamed and rambled and I followed my footsteps
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts;
And all around me a voice was sounding:
This land was made for you and me.

When the sun came shining, and I was strolling,
And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling,
As the fog was lifting a voice was chanting:
This land was made for you and me.

As I went walking I saw a sign there
And on the sign it said "No Trespassing."
But on the other side it didn't say nothing,
That side was made for you and me.

In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people,
By the relief office I seen my people;
As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking
Is this land made for you and me?

Nobody living can ever stop me,
As I go walking that freedom highway;
Nobody living can ever make me turn back
This land was made for you and me.



Taking a moment to chill after my race, where I found this tree, ..... Woody's "magic tree" ? It looked near dead, but it's roots went deep.
... is this land really for you and me?

Dragonflies and Newts

After two weeks off the mountain bike and three weeks off of Ringwood, it really felt good to get back out in the woods this week. It is amazing how my weekly visits into the woods affect me in a positive way. Until I go without, I do not see the value of this ritual.

I spent a few weeks healing a shoulder, and fighting the first signs of winter, and now I am gifted a healthy body and fall-like conditions. Moderate temperatures have returned, and fallen leaves have made open views of the sky and left piles of leaves on the trail. I would say, that I am not a big faller, but these leaves have me diving over the handlebars more often than usual. None of this bad, just all part of where I am today, and I am very happy to be alive and experience the fall and my yearly passage though the seasons.

Today was a birthday, and three friends rode together in celebration. We stopped along a beautiful swamp-side. The sun beat down on us and dragonflies adorned the birthday girl. As I noticed the newts swimming in the shoreline, I realized we were also taking advantage of these last few warm days and preparing for winter. Sad at times, but a reality we all must face and use to motivate us to move ahead in life. As always, great to be a mountain biker.

Fall Colors

Ringwood


Wawayanda


Ringwood


Wawayanda


Deer Park


Deer Park

Building Trails In New Jersey

Oct 9 : IMBA Trail Care Crew visit to Ringwood State Park and Sterling Forest hosted by Jorba.

I would like to extend a big thanks to all the volunteers that took the time to come out to attend this seminar. It was really inspiring to see so many enthusiastic trail builders in attendance on a beautiful fall day. Yes, we all want more trails, but those that take the time to come out and get in the know, make the difference between good trails and great trails. Thank you!


A large group of enthusiastic trail builders piled into the Sterling Forest Visitors Center for a very detailed classroom presentation about building sustainable trails. In that group were mountain bike trail builders from parks such as: Ringwood, Ramapo, Wawayanda, Jungle Habitat, Sourlands, Allamuchy, Allaire, Highbridge NYC and Grahm Hills to name a few.


Seminar presented by Chris and Leslie Kehmeier of IMBA.


Chris and Leslie's traveling home, that brings trail knowledge to people around the world.


In the afternoon, volunteers went out into the woods of Ringwood to work on a trail in need of love....


and put their new found knowledge to use, by re-routing an eroded section of fall line trail.


By the end of the day, the old trail was reclaimed. Can you find the old trail?


... and the new trail was complete.


We all had a great time as well.

Monkeys, Acorns and Traumeel

Last weekend the H2H series race took place at Jungle Habitat. The once defunct safari theme park in the 70’s, now bike specific park is built and maintained by Jorba mountain bikers and Team Town Cycle. Town Cycle trail builders pride them selves in building the toughest, rockiest and in my opinion the least flowing trails on the race circuit. This race is known for being a bike handler’s course and not a racers course, all good to me, by the way.

The promoters granted us 40+ women our own start, so Campmor filled the entire line-up. After a good start, I got a little bogged down through the Warthog trail, but did not worry because the race is plenty long to settle in and sort out before the end of three laps. After the Fence Line descent, I cut back through the fence into the cages and miscued on a slightly upward tight turn. I applied some torque to the pedals to pull me out of the stall and as I reached the top, my bike was pulled out from under me, and I was on the ground with my hand screaming at me. I sat myself up slowly, with all attention to my hand stinger. I made a fist and opened and closed my fingers and although it hurt, I could move everything. Realizing I was still in one piece, I picked myself up and assessed the damage. After a brief go over, I saw that I had no gaping holes with blood gushing out and I decided it was ok to proceed with my race.

Within 50 feet, I noticed that rear braking and holding the handle bar was painful and for some strange reason, someone was throwing acorns at me. I adjusted my grip, and was doing ok through Tiger, but wondered how I would fare the Goat Trail. The first turn in Goat went well, and I managed to get over the big rock and through the nasty boney part, but I soon had a racer bearing down on me that did not offer any communication. I tried to speed up a tad, but went down in the next turn. He ran by, and although I was a little frustrated, I felt better that he was in front of me, so that I could figure out if I could finish this race or not.

I had a good clean ride up chute, and not being a quitter, I opted to try 2 more laps in hopes that endorphins would set in, and I could find out who the heck was throwing acorns at me. About one lap later, the endorphins finally set in, and I had a decent last lap, where I bridged back up to the women’s field to finish as the fourth overall woman. This was probably not a top finish, but considering the circumstances, I was happy to finish and take the NJ champion title for Campmor. As for the acorns, it is a mystery to me. I heard rumors that ghosts of monkeys exist in the Jungle, but that sounds like a chapter in “Weird New Jersey”. I think you may need to go up there and find out for yourself.

As for Traumeel, that stuff is great! http://www.traumeel.com/
I am back on the bike today, and my bruised hand has healed nicely.

Colors and Textures on a Bike Ride

909 Wake up Call

photo by GTLuke

909 wake up call at 2:03 a.m.: stomach cramps. Later in the morning I had them as well. I thought things were under control, so with no food eaten since my 5:30 breakfast, I lined up to race at 1:00 p.m. Start got delayed, and I may have cooled down too much. Sounds familiar, right? I got dropped off the start and by the time I caught back up to the last rider, stomach cramps set in again. I do get them on occasion, and I back off a tad and they go away in 5 minutes. I catch back, no problem. Unfortunately, This time they went for 15 minutes and got really bad. Plus some of the ladies are getting stronger, and pixy is getting older, so catching back up is getting harder.

I was backed off to a crawl in the twisty single track after the road climb. The twists nearly made me dizzy. Then everyone was out of site, and I was by myself … the last rider. This was not a new feeling, as I spent the first 3 years as a Cat 1 racer being the last rider on course. I just had not been there in awhile.

I had a moment of feeling sorry for myself and wanted to stop, but I thought about the ladies that were not lucky enough to race that day: Jocelyn, Stacey and Rebecca, and I found the will to pedal through some stomach cramps, even if it was slow. My thinking is: a slow day on the bike is way better than a day on the couch. Then I hit a fast downhill and spotted the first photographer, Luke and I felt distracted enough from the pain to let it go from my mind. The drops were next, with all their excitement and some much appreciated cheering, and I was able to regain my composure on the big climb. The descent that followed was amazing fun and seemed to go on forever. By the time I got to the anthills (yes the course wound through a series of anthills), the cramps were gone, and I reeled in my first rider. From there on, the race went well and I passed 4-5 more riders and pulled myself up to 4th place.

I am so pleased with my new Titus X. This is my second race on her, and the suspension is slightly more active than the Racer-X, and allows the rear tire to hug the ground in the most technical terrain. The Fox 15mm fork is also another big improvement. I did not think I would notice these upgrades, but they are instantly noticeable. I don’t know if I could have sailed down those rutted descents with such ease on the old bike. The bike rides like a rocket ship. I also really like the Sram XX 2x10 drive train. Besides dropping a pound off my bike, the stuff works flawlessly and seems to have all the gears you need. I find, I can stay in the big ring for much of the races, but may need to rethink my shifting rhythms. The X is now my favorite bike in the stable, and a great all around XC bike.


An uncommon site to see a smile on pixy's face when there is air under the tires. I must really be trusting my bike these days, rolling a 6 ft drop without even a finger on the brake lever. ...photo by John Coog