The Amazing Journey Pt. 1

Somewhere in Indiana.

There is nothing in Kansas. Nothing.

Crossing the state line into Colorado.

My first Colorado sunset.

Merckx

Devi

Beginning the climb, looking East. Denver skyline in the distance.

A place called Red Rocks. There's a theater there. You may have heard of it.

Snow-capped peaks in the distance

Mount Falcon summit

I am seated at a desk beside a cat named Merckx. A wood burning stove is humming behind me. A spare bedroom is full of bikes. I am in Denver. I left New Jersey and a lifetime of memories four days ago. And four days were spent inside my van, whether it being in the drivers seat or buried beneath every blanket I own, and whether gazing out at the endless expanse of I-70 or up at the halogen glow of the lights in a Wal-mart parking lot.

Not much can be said about driving through the heartland, which is, in a way, why I have started this entry once I reached the Rockies. I can sum up the experience in just a few sentences. After Pennsylvania, there really isn't much to see until St. Louis. The Arch was pretty cool and so was crossing the Mississippi River, although it was already dark out and it came and went rather quickly. The only other thing left to say is that Kansas is the worst state I have ever driven through. At first, it's actually quite amazing and I thought, "Wow, I can't believe how vast and endless it is." Nine hours later, I was saying "I can't believe how vast and endless this is!" but in a much more exhaustible tone. The entire time, I was waiting and waiting and waiting for the Rocky Mountains to first emerge on the horizon. Unfortunately, it never happened.

The sun had set just as I crossed the Colorado state line and I was still looking at a flat line. Darkness. I exited off I-70 for the first time in over 1,000 miles onto Rt. 24, a curvy highway that seemed to be gaining elevation, or at least it felt that way. I imagined that the road was tree-lined and that I was entering a more mountainous area, but once in a while the lights of a distant town proved that the sky was still as massive and the landscape was still as flat as before. With 20 miles to go after 12 hours at the wheel (such a long stint was partially due to the adrenaline rush of reaching Colorado Springs that night, but also because I had not seen a Wal-mart since Topeka) the tell-tale signs of an approaching storm had proven positive and I was greeted with snow. I was smiling ear to ear.

Finding a Wal-mart in this town was easy. There was not one, but three to pick from. I settled in for the night and the morning sky revealed what had been hidden from sight the night before. Somehow, as in magically, as I slept, the snowy mountains silently grew from the flat horizon that I was sure was there only yesterday. I guess John Denver wasn't so full of shit after all.

Having arrived two days ahead of schedule, I decided to take up an offer from a friend whose only ties were that of cyberspace and a passion for cycling. Ken rides for the same team as me, but this was the first time we've met. I have followed his travels with his girlfriend, Sarah on their blog and have admired their outdoorsy lifestyle, so I was excited to finally meet them and also have a warm bed and a hot shower.

It is now the first day of December and I am back in Colorado Springs. I have been reunited with my friends from High Gear who arrived here this morning. We are headed to the first session of classes. Stay tuned for part 2!

Psycho Cross

A new race was added to the NJ Cup calendar this year, the Cyclocross at Central Park of Morris County. It was held on the grounds of the abandoned Greystone Psychiatric Mental Institution, whose main building provided the eerie grey backdrop to the day's race course.

As it turned out, the CXCP race fell on the same day as the Staten Cross (SICX) MAC race, which is a huge event and draws racers from all over the tri-state area. Knowing this, and closely monitoring the confirmed riders list on Bikereg.com, I decided it would be advantageous to sign up for the Pro race. All the heavy hitters that routinely dominate the A race would either be at Staten or in Fort Collins, CO for the USGP race the following weekend. The A race carries a payout that usually goes five deep, so there was a chance I would make a little money... though at a price.

That price was suffering for a full hour as opposed to the 40-45 minutes for the B racers. Until about three days before the pre-registration cutoff, I was the only person signed up. My plan was seeming to play out perfectly. I ride my bike leisurely around the course for an hour and collect my check at the end. Well, it didn't quite go like that, as you could have imagined.

Come race day, six other riders signed up for my race, so I would have to beat two of them just to get a podium spot. Some of these guys are my friends, including Ryan Heerschap and BL, so it was going to be fun no matter what. However I knew that I was going to suffer horribly just to finish, and that it was not a question of if I was going to get lapped, but how many times?

After a thorough warm up, I headed for the starting line where I noticed that two of the riders were not present. Sweet! All I would have to do is finish and I would get paid. From the whistle, I immediately accepted my spot in dead last, but was actually able to hold the pace and hung on for the first half lap. Slowly, they began to form a gap on me that I had no desire to close. It was a long race and if I tried to hang on, I would surely have blown up.

Just finish the race. Easier said than done. This course had some really huge divots in the race line, unfortunately on some of the portions of the course where I really wanted to open it up. One false move and I could have damaged my bike and ended my day. With no pit bike or extra wheels, I was just a little cautious. I did not hold back though, and I raced at 100% the entire time. The few fans who were still there and some of my good friends were cheering me on the whole way, making it impossible to ease off.

As I rolled through the start/finish to begin lap 3, the scorer called out "9 laps to go!" and I yelled, "WHAT?!?" This was going to be a long race. Somewhere around lap 4 I got my second wind and actually felt good. I turned it up a little bit, drilling the sections where I knew I could go fast. I was actually really excited that only the top three guys lapped me and it wasn't until lap 9 of 11 that they caught me. When BL was approaching, I saw that my friend Art had stuck a $5 bill in the mud between the barriers. I rode as hard as I could to hold off BL, beat him to the barriers and claim my prize.

Since I had so much time, I really focused on my technique. I nailed every dismount/remount and rode very clean. I still felt relatively good after an hour of pain and sprinted out of the saddle to the finish. It was all smiles and handshakes at the end and a feeling of a great accomplishment. A quick change into my street clothes and I was back to the scoring tent to claim my first Pro level payout. I'm glad that my plan worked out and I am thankful for the experience to race with guys at this level and sort of hang on and not completely die in the face. I am going to switch my attention back to my training this winter and hopefully return next year with the legs to actually give these guys a fight.