I can hear you

This past sunday was the Westwood Velo Cyclocross event at Campgaw Mountain, which, for me, was the race that almost didn't happen. I had gotten a little mixed up to say the least regarding my race schedule. I thought I had pre-registered for this race, but in actuality it was for a race two weeks later and what happened was basically I found myself at the right place at the wrong time. When I approached the registration tent and answered the attendant's question of "What category?" he then pointed to the race currently underway and said, "There they go." My heart sank under the weight of the realization of my error. Since there was no other race that day that I could "legally" participate in, I settled into my role as a spectator and cheered for my friends. It looked like a really fun course that only got better as the day went on and I was seriously bummed that I couldn't ride it.

About an hour before the Cat 2/3 race, my friend Jdog rolled up and asked why I wasn't racing. I explained what happened and how I couldn't race with the B-men. When he asked, "Why not?" I really didn't have a good answer. He said he was going to, so why couldn't I? Good point. He marched me over to the registration tent to not ask, but tell the guy I was going to race as a Cat 2/3, even though my license permits me to only race Cat 4. I needed $30 for the day-of race fee and I didn't have it. Thank you, Art for spotting me and yes I DID get your money's worth! I learned later that it's allowed to race up, but not down. In either case, the guy said if I podium they wouldn't be able to count my points. I said if I'm in 3rd at the end of the race, I'll hit the brakes before the finish line. We laughed and he handed me my number.

I was super excited and I ran all the way to my van, passing Laura in the parking lot waving my number over my head yelling, "I'm going to race!" A quick change into my Superman uniform and a short warmup later, I was lined up at the back of the pack just in time for the 30 second warning. Moments later we were off! My friend describes 'cross racing as having nowhere on the course to win, but only places where you can lose. I'm reminded of motorcycle racing in the respect that the riders are pushing their tireless machines to the absolute edge from the start of the race to the bitter end, and only when an opponent makes an error does he get overtaken. Cross racing is as close to motorcycle racing as I've ever experienced. When I raced XC, the field was so spread out that oftentimes I would ride entire laps without seeing another racer. With cross, the course is much tighter and no sooner do you overtake someone, you can immediately set your sights on the next guy. Whoever can push their bikes harder into the corners, use their brakes less, accelerate faster, and negotiate the barriers better will find themselves moving up through the field.

The first two laps, the pack was still bunched up and passing was a little tricky. Once things spread out a bit more, I was able to take the best lines and carry more speed through the corners allowing me to close gaps on the guys in front of me. My favorite thing about cross racing is how involved the spectators are and how awesome it is to hear them cheering your name. My friends were littered throughout the course and were cheering for me each time I went by. With every time I heard my name, I got a surge of energy that carried me until I passed my next cheering fan. I had a mantra going through my head as I rode faster and faster and passed more riders; "I can hear you. I can hear you." I thought as their voices fueled each attack. It's one of the best feelings in the world. Thank you. "Thank you."

Overtaking a rider on the staircase.

The best place to be cheered for, at the top of the hillclimb of pain!

I can hear you.

Recovery day

Since the one spill I took on Sunday left my knee a bit tender and unwilling to bend, I decided to exercise the joint and went for a summit hike on Mt. Tammany. This was certainly one of those spiritual hikes that are great for clearing one's head. I was in the woods alone all day. There are no words to go with these images. Only thoughts. Okay, maybe some words. Enjoy.

Halfway up. In the crack.

A slab-tastic discovery! This thing is HUGE!

Note to self: Bring climbing shoes next time.

They weren't even afraid.

Mt. Minsi

I lowered myself onto this little outcropping with a sheer drop before me. I was actually shitting. I hope my mom doesn't see this.

The swimmin' hole. Gotta come back next summer.

An entire hillside of ferns.

This is no rolling stone.

This reminded me of that scene from Into The Wild when he's on the PCT.

The rainbow tree.

Where I was (above).

A stage of life complete and a whole new chance to grow and learn.

I almost step on bugs. Then I take their picture.

Wissahickon

Dig, dig, dig!

Cold. Rain. Mud. The ingredients for a perfect cyclocross race. ABC and I succeeded in achieving the two goals wet set for ourselves (not to be lapped and not to come in last) and I couldn't be more pleased about this.

I decided to race with the B-men, which included not only the Cat 4's, where I belong, but the Cat 2's and 3's as well. I did this for a few reasons, some personal and some logistical. Needless to say, these guys are pretty fast and the field was huge. Since I rode Singlespeed in XC, there weren't more than 20 guys in my class at any race. There were 117 starters here! I was late to the staging area and lined up in the very back of the pack, immediately at a disadvantage but felt I haven't earned the right to be any further up. Also, I believe, in 'cross, priority is given to the faster racers. So in either or both cases, my work was cut out for me.

From the gun, since the pack was so large, the leaders were entering the first turn by the time I even began moving. There was a huge pileup on the opening stretch that slowed me down even more and saw me in just about dead last. Once underway, I was in chase mode. It was an incredible feeling to pick off so many riders on the first lap. Within the first few turns, I must have gone by 15-20 guys. I began to second guess myself. "Am I riding too fast?" "Is my pace too quick to control my bike in these conditions?" "Will I bonk if I keep up like this?" A lot goes through your mind out there and I tried to suppress my analytical self and let my physical self take over, who reacts based on instinct rather than logic. I went primal, yo!

I managed to stay on two wheels the whole race, save for one major wipeout. The course came off a gravel road back onto the grass in a gently sweeping left turn. The inside line through the apex was where ABC wanted to go, but it was deeply rutted and muddy. I noticed a high line on the outside that was smooth and dry, but it required leaning away from the turn and riding up an off-camber mud slope. It was as if my brain and eyeballs left my body and watched from the sideline and thought, "Hey dummy, that's physically impossible!" It was too late, I went for it and immediately my tires slid down to the left, back to the low line and I ate shit. I was all by myself though, jumped right back up, and didn't lose any positions.

I was totally psyched when I passed the Start/Finish area at the end of my third lap and wasn't waved off. One more! I was still feeling strong and battled with a few more guys. I had to take a few B-lines to pass them, which meant going through some soup rather than tracking easily through the grassier stuff. When you exit a corner and realize you just pointed yourself into the worst line possible, you immediately think, "Oh no!" But I put the hammer down and motored through that shit and gained a position.

Looking back, the conditions really couldn't have been much worse and yet I had an absolute blast out there. I always say it, but this was the most fun I've ever had on my bike. I can't wait for next weekend, but now is the fun of tearing my bike down completely and rebuilding it. A to the B to the C.

HVCX

Gotta love the tongue-outta-the-mouth-concentrating-on-not-eating-it-face.

Downing Park in Newburgh, NY overlooking the Hudson River

Perhaps the world's smallest CX fan leaning in to catch the action.

You did well, ABC. Though, I'm sorry you have a horse's ass for a mechanic.

The gear my bike decided to be stuck in.

Not my Halloween costume, I swear.

Today was day two of the Hudson Valley Cyclocross event at Downing Park and my first cross race of my life. To sum things up, it was awesome, it sucked. I loved it, I hated it. When's the next one?

My race would begin at 11am and I knew when I would have to leave my house to make sure I got there with enough time to warm up and survey the course. I ended up leaving late, largely in part due to my inability to escape the confines of my bathroom for more than 5 minutes before needing to return. Once on the road, I grabbed breakfast and a coffee, but was too nervous to swallow it. I got to the park with 30 minutes before starting time, not enough to get a proper warm up. I also learned that pinning my race number to my jersey is much more difficult than fixing it to the front of my xc bike. I got it right on the third try and made it to the start with minutes to spare. I was concerned about my lack of a warmup, but in actuality my heart rate was elevated since the moment I woke up.

It turned out that the thing I was most nervous about during the race itself was one of the things that ended up not only being a blast, but an area where I excelled in. I'm talking about the barriers. The first one came as a total surprise since I was within the pack on a fast straight when all the sudden I was upon it. It amazed me how poorly many of the riders handled their bikes on the sharp corners. I guess anyone with an mtb background has an immediate advantage over the dedicated roadies. I not only overtook riders on the barriers with my smooth and efficient dismounts and mounts, but also in the corners. I didn't even come close to crashing the whole race! ABC and I were rocking it... until disaster struck.

On lap 2, I noticed the indexing on my shifter was off and my chain couldn't decide what cog it wanted to be on. I struggled with it for half a lap, searching for gears while riders caught and passed me. When I had gotten frustrated enough, I pulled off and gave the barrel adjuster a couple turns, thinking maybe it got bumped somehow. Back on the bike and another half lap later, the real problem revealed itself when I lost my shifting altogether and my derailleur settled into its most relaxed position over my smallest cog. What actually happened was my cable pinch bolt lost its death grip on my shifter cable. I'm mystified by how it came loose, perhaps sabotage, but this was no time to ponder the wonders of the universe. I was in a race and since Goonies never say die, I needed to keep moving forward.

I loved riding my singlespeed xc bike all season long and the thought of ss cx is not unheard of. What IS unheard of is choosing 42:12 gearing to do so. I did my best to power through the sections of the course that were either level or downhill, which included both barriers, super twisty off-camber turns, and the stairs. ABC and I were flying at these times and no one could catch us. I overtook riders on each lap in these sections, but was left helpless on the climbs as I had to dismount and run as I slowly got passed by more riders than I could catch. To all of you who cheered louder, clapped harder, rang those cowbells more vigorously and ran beside me as I shouldered my bike, I love you. Thank you. Your encouragement made it impossible to give up.

My overall goal for the day changed from finishing in the top half of the field, to not getting lapped, to not coming in last. The leaders went by me as I completed my second to last lap. I succeeded in only the last of the three goals, but barely. After the race, I felt every emotion possible all at once: joy and pain, elation and frustration, thirst and satiation, alive and dead. It was the greatest racing experience I've ever had. Cross involves a combination of all the disciplines I enjoy most in cycling. It's no wonder that this has become an immediate favorite.

Stink eye

That's what they should call "pink eye." There is nothing fun about people avoiding you like the plague. I have had a 16 year streak of never missing a day of work that has been broken yesterday when my boss requested that I don't come in, in the case that I am contagious and get the other employees sick.

Yesterday was one of the worst days ever. Unlike most people, I love my job. Being stuck at home and not being able to work was depressing. I longed to be at work like people at work long to be home. To make matters worse, my boss told me to stay home today, too. I barely made it through yesterday by reading (with one eye), doing housework, and cooking. Now that my house is clean and the fridge is full, I don't know what I'm going to do. This stinks.

The moment of truth

I have successfully done what I had set out to do. No pressure, be myself, and just have fun. Things went as well as I could have hoped. Perfect weather, perfect conditions, and the perfect setting. Today was a great day.

Doin' things right.

Oh, and as far as this relationship is concerned... I didn't get shot by a Cupid's arrow. Instead, I got stung in the ass by a bee. Draw your own conclusions.

ABC

Another Bad Creation rolled out of the shop tonight. "Rolled" is the key word there, since I have been waiting over a month for my wheels. But now that they are here, I couldn't be more excited about this bike. We're both looking forward to our first race, but not before we get some good practice time in. A to the B to the C!

It's pants weather

I woke up today feeling really good since I got to sleep in a bit. I also had a great dream that in actuality only took a few seconds, but left a lasting mark that would set the tone for the day to come. There was definitely a chill in the air when I left my house this morning and the overcast sky suggested snow. Winter will be here soon. Some unfortunate people suffer from that seasonal affection disorder, but not me. This is my favorite time of the year. A transition period. When I left work, the smell of the air and sight of my breath brought reminders of good times spent on nights just like this. How can anyone be depressed by that?

Another good thing to happen to enhance the mood of the day is that my long awaited cross wheels have arrived and I began at once the process of gluing my tires. I'm excited for cross season for a few reasons and now that it's getting colder, it fills me with anticipation and excitement that what's to come is drawing nearer. On the drive home, all the right songs were coming up on my shuffling iPod. I opened my windows and sunroof and enjoyed the rush of cold air. I'm thankful for the seasons. I'm not one for routine and the same old, same old and I love how a change in the weather brings changes in me.