Sunday, October 4, 2015
Berkshire East Bike Park
Some videos from a recent trip to Berkshire East Bike Park to enjoy the fall foliage and gravity.
Saturday, October 3, 2015
Putting the "Wild" into wild rides
Looking back on this I realize this could have ended very badly for all involved. Thankfully everything worked out for me and the other guy. Nothing worse then super man endo-ing over a table top jump, and I'm very glad it didn't come to that!
Monday, August 17, 2015
Fat bike racing isn't just for the winter anymore
I was torn. A beloved race of mine was refined to a loop course and reserved for one of the hottest weekend's we've had all year. As much as I love the outdoors, I can't handle it when it's too hot or too humid which is why I'm rooting for global warming to trigger a mini-ice age in my lifetime. All joking aside I do have a tendency to run hot as compared to others and get heat exhaustion very easily; the flip side being that I never, ever get cold.
Hampshire 100 was to return this year as a lap course, with the 100k consisting of 2 30 mile-ish loops with 3,750 feet of climbing for each one. I eagerly signed up and started training until I saw the forecast a week before the race which was calling for a high of 85-90 with humidity as high as 80-90%.
I don't mind a good suffer fest every now and then and the 100k is certainly that. But I wasn't particularly feeling like suffering while melting at the same time, so I reluctantly emailed the race director a few days before asking if I could drop to the 50k, which would allow me to ride the new course, but not die.
I didn't feel right riding the 50k on my race bike when I had been training and racing other long distances so I signed up for the fat tire option. I figured that this would most certainly be a challenge as I have never ridden the fat bike that far. I rode the fat bike a lot in the winter and it was certainly fun. I had been missing the fun factor with my constant training for races this summer and so I designated Friday's solely for fat biking as it was a way to goof off before my long Saturday rides, or races, but those rides were no longer then 1 hour and were less then 10 miles. This was going to be 33 miles on a very tough course.
My fat bike is not a fast bike. It is built like a tank, and rides like one. Basically rolling over anything that gets in its way, however a race bike it is not. The frame is built from tanged chromoly steel which makes it very strong, but very heavy. The tires are 4 inches wide and there is no suspension; it is a fully rigid bike. That makes it an excellent climber, but a terrible XC race bike. Still, you race the bike you have, not the bike you want, so I made my way to the race eager to test my mettle and my bike against the course.
And I was not let down. Riding the new course on a fully rigid, steel fat bike weighing around 40 pounds was no small task. However, I met this challenge head on and grinning for most of it, with the exception of the last dozen miles of single track that managed to literally destroy me. The fat bike excelled at the climbs, even allowing me to clear the "Crotched Mt" climb when everyone else was walking. And, it still managed to speed me down the hills with the characteristic monster truck tire whirling sound that is so fat bike, and even managed to float me over the muddy and sandy sections (and there were a lot thanks to the previous night's thunderstorms).
But the rooty, rocky single track was to be my downfall. It was not the bike itself that made this bad, but my spoiled arms, back, and core that has grown used to the comfort of full suspension bikes. My arms were actually more tired then my legs (which were wiped out from pushing a 40 lb bike).
I was actually able to feel the knots forming in my back as I was crushed over every rock and root. After awhile I learned to grin and bear it as I tried to go as fast as I could over the rough stuff, hoping that speed would minimize the pain: it didn't.
I finished in 4 hours and 37 minutes with 2 fist pumps in the air, ecstatic that the tenderizing treatment my muscles were undergoing was over. Despite the difficulties in the single track I was very glad I raced the fat bike. It was hard, but sometimes doing hard things that are out of our comfort zones is how we become better.
I feel this race has made me a better rider by taking away the technological advantages I have grown accustomed to and going more old school. Despite the fat tires I was forced into picking the tightest lines I could and I was made very uncomfortable during this race, which was a good thing. Most important of all the fat bike made me smile and laugh even when I felt horrible and that's why I race: to have fun.
Would I bring my fat bike to every summer race? No. But I'll certainly bring it to at least one so that I will never forget why I ride.
Hampshire 100 was to return this year as a lap course, with the 100k consisting of 2 30 mile-ish loops with 3,750 feet of climbing for each one. I eagerly signed up and started training until I saw the forecast a week before the race which was calling for a high of 85-90 with humidity as high as 80-90%.
I don't mind a good suffer fest every now and then and the 100k is certainly that. But I wasn't particularly feeling like suffering while melting at the same time, so I reluctantly emailed the race director a few days before asking if I could drop to the 50k, which would allow me to ride the new course, but not die.
I didn't feel right riding the 50k on my race bike when I had been training and racing other long distances so I signed up for the fat tire option. I figured that this would most certainly be a challenge as I have never ridden the fat bike that far. I rode the fat bike a lot in the winter and it was certainly fun. I had been missing the fun factor with my constant training for races this summer and so I designated Friday's solely for fat biking as it was a way to goof off before my long Saturday rides, or races, but those rides were no longer then 1 hour and were less then 10 miles. This was going to be 33 miles on a very tough course.
 |
The fat bike ready to ride |
And I was not let down. Riding the new course on a fully rigid, steel fat bike weighing around 40 pounds was no small task. However, I met this challenge head on and grinning for most of it, with the exception of the last dozen miles of single track that managed to literally destroy me. The fat bike excelled at the climbs, even allowing me to clear the "Crotched Mt" climb when everyone else was walking. And, it still managed to speed me down the hills with the characteristic monster truck tire whirling sound that is so fat bike, and even managed to float me over the muddy and sandy sections (and there were a lot thanks to the previous night's thunderstorms).
But the rooty, rocky single track was to be my downfall. It was not the bike itself that made this bad, but my spoiled arms, back, and core that has grown used to the comfort of full suspension bikes. My arms were actually more tired then my legs (which were wiped out from pushing a 40 lb bike).
I was actually able to feel the knots forming in my back as I was crushed over every rock and root. After awhile I learned to grin and bear it as I tried to go as fast as I could over the rough stuff, hoping that speed would minimize the pain: it didn't.
I finished in 4 hours and 37 minutes with 2 fist pumps in the air, ecstatic that the tenderizing treatment my muscles were undergoing was over. Despite the difficulties in the single track I was very glad I raced the fat bike. It was hard, but sometimes doing hard things that are out of our comfort zones is how we become better.
I feel this race has made me a better rider by taking away the technological advantages I have grown accustomed to and going more old school. Despite the fat tires I was forced into picking the tightest lines I could and I was made very uncomfortable during this race, which was a good thing. Most important of all the fat bike made me smile and laugh even when I felt horrible and that's why I race: to have fun.
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| Racing the Hampshire 100 on a fat bike |
Thursday, July 23, 2015
Going Tubeless
In early May of this year I decided to sign up for a season opener by doing the Battle at Burlingame 6 hour solo. I had been fat biking and cross country skiing all winter and I wanted to see where my fitness stood at the end of a busy, but fun winter, and to gauge the effectiveness of training this way for future seasons.
So I showed up ready to give it my all on a course I knew nothing about, and I was destined to have a literal blast at this race. The Battle features a 14 mile lap that includes the last 2 or 3 miles of the XC course and a whole other beast of single track that laps around the lake at Burlingame. There were a few sandy road sections in the very beginning that I managed to completed wipe out on, but other then that the single track was really nice: certainly challenging and sweet.
I remember 2 sections in particular, one was the rocky outcrop that actually turned into a trials ride for a few sections and the other was the winding bridge section that raced us over a swamp and at one point through a gazebo!
It was on my 3rd and final lap, however that I was to have the biggest blast, which occurred when I cleared a log obstacle, only to proceed to experience a completely flat front tire. So I did what any racer would do, which was to pull over, quickly unscrew my front wheel, take it off, remove the tire, and the tube, and feel for thorns in the tire tread. But, in my race-haste I did not search diligently enough (which would be the cause for my demise). After installing the new tube, I proceeded to pump it up, only to terrifyingly witness my only spare tube deflate! "Oh crap!" was my immediate thought, followed by, "how the hell am I going to finish this thing without a DNF with 5 miles to go on a fully flat front tire?"
I began to run my bike, but that was a disaster as I couldn't get out of the way in time for other racers to pass me and my bike shoes were giving me horrible blisters, plus my fitness wasn't there for me to run a bike out of the woods for 5 miles. So I decided to carry my bike on my back like a wounded soldier, but that was even worse and the frame was digging into my back and starting to hurt and I couldn't maneuver through the tight turns of the single track.
I allowed myself to get very upset and curse profusely for about 5 minutes (enough to make any sailor proud), and then I told myself that I would not DNF; and that the only way I would get out of the woods was to do the unthinkable and ride my bike on a flat tire.
This was a lot tougher then I initially thought but actually hysterical. I was to navigate some fairly hardcore single track on a bike rim cushioned by a mere few millimeters of rubber, but surprisingly I was able to ride. Down hills and turns were a disaster though, but somehow the tire stayed on the rim. I did finish the race within the 6 hour time frame, and I also finished laughing at myself for the less then ideal predicament.
I proceeded straight to the local bike shop tent that was supporting the race, explained what happened and asked them to inspect what I believed would be my destroyed bike rim (I had hit some rocks pretty hard while on my way out of the woods). To my astonishment there was nothing wrong with the rim, and it didn't even need to be trued! On my way home I drove straight to my bike shop and asked for a conversion to tubeless so that a thorn would never have the chance to ruin my race ever again!
It took me awhile to convert to tubeless, but now that I have I haven't suffered any pinch or thorn flats and that's alright in my book!
See Race Results
 |
| Road rash from blowing out on a sandy corner |
I remember 2 sections in particular, one was the rocky outcrop that actually turned into a trials ride for a few sections and the other was the winding bridge section that raced us over a swamp and at one point through a gazebo!
It was on my 3rd and final lap, however that I was to have the biggest blast, which occurred when I cleared a log obstacle, only to proceed to experience a completely flat front tire. So I did what any racer would do, which was to pull over, quickly unscrew my front wheel, take it off, remove the tire, and the tube, and feel for thorns in the tire tread. But, in my race-haste I did not search diligently enough (which would be the cause for my demise). After installing the new tube, I proceeded to pump it up, only to terrifyingly witness my only spare tube deflate! "Oh crap!" was my immediate thought, followed by, "how the hell am I going to finish this thing without a DNF with 5 miles to go on a fully flat front tire?"
I began to run my bike, but that was a disaster as I couldn't get out of the way in time for other racers to pass me and my bike shoes were giving me horrible blisters, plus my fitness wasn't there for me to run a bike out of the woods for 5 miles. So I decided to carry my bike on my back like a wounded soldier, but that was even worse and the frame was digging into my back and starting to hurt and I couldn't maneuver through the tight turns of the single track.
I allowed myself to get very upset and curse profusely for about 5 minutes (enough to make any sailor proud), and then I told myself that I would not DNF; and that the only way I would get out of the woods was to do the unthinkable and ride my bike on a flat tire.
This was a lot tougher then I initially thought but actually hysterical. I was to navigate some fairly hardcore single track on a bike rim cushioned by a mere few millimeters of rubber, but surprisingly I was able to ride. Down hills and turns were a disaster though, but somehow the tire stayed on the rim. I did finish the race within the 6 hour time frame, and I also finished laughing at myself for the less then ideal predicament.
I proceeded straight to the local bike shop tent that was supporting the race, explained what happened and asked them to inspect what I believed would be my destroyed bike rim (I had hit some rocks pretty hard while on my way out of the woods). To my astonishment there was nothing wrong with the rim, and it didn't even need to be trued! On my way home I drove straight to my bike shop and asked for a conversion to tubeless so that a thorn would never have the chance to ruin my race ever again!
It took me awhile to convert to tubeless, but now that I have I haven't suffered any pinch or thorn flats and that's alright in my book!
See Race Results
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
Earnin' the turnin'
Earnin' the turnin'
If you're like me, when the flakes start to fly you get a certain feeling in the pit of your gut. When I hear of a big snowstorm, or watch as those first flakes begin to fall, I get giddy. Down right, ashamedly hyperactive. My speech quickens, my pace hurries, and I can't stop smiling. As each flake begins to amplify, accumulate, and pile up, my excitement grows in as fast and as furious as the snowfall itself.
I am waiting for the snow to build to such an extent that allows for excursions into the back country. Now, if you're from out West or Vermont, then I envy you: because you know exactly what I'm talking about, and you're spoiled :)
This year in New England we have been blessed (or cursed depending on who you talk to) with 2 storms that dumped 33 inches and then 18 inches respectively of the sweet stuff. And I took it upon myself to go and enjoy this powder the best way I know how.
Most people will dress in layers, grab a group of friends, pile into a car and drive many hours to a ski resort where they will spend a small fortune and a lot of time waiting in lines and on chair lifts to get to the groomed corduroy. That used to be my scene, and once in awhile I'll still do that, as there's always a place for that.
However, lately, and perhaps not by coincidence, I have found myself longing for simpler methodology and perhaps harsher conditions. And an experience that is more satisfying (although admittedly riskier). But where there is great risk, there is greater reward.
When I first started to telemark, my goal had always been to leave the ski resort behind. I longed for virgin snow, where no man, ski, or groomer had spoiled that smooth, creamy blanket.
I wanted to get away from the heated spa-lodges with all the crowds, pub fare, and booze and return to an experience more spiritual and perhaps even, religious.
The back country is where I find this. No chair lifts anywhere, the simplest of runs must be earned by hikes that take several hours to complete. No crowds. Sometimes you'll stumble upon a few kindred spirits, and sometimes not. Natural scenes that are drinkable, to the soul at least. After many labored steps, there is the pause, the rituals of gearing up for the run down, and the exhilaration of carving down that trail as you could be the first and only person to do so.
What better way to carpe diem then by earnin' the turnin'?
If you're like me, when the flakes start to fly you get a certain feeling in the pit of your gut. When I hear of a big snowstorm, or watch as those first flakes begin to fall, I get giddy. Down right, ashamedly hyperactive. My speech quickens, my pace hurries, and I can't stop smiling. As each flake begins to amplify, accumulate, and pile up, my excitement grows in as fast and as furious as the snowfall itself.
I am waiting for the snow to build to such an extent that allows for excursions into the back country. Now, if you're from out West or Vermont, then I envy you: because you know exactly what I'm talking about, and you're spoiled :)
This year in New England we have been blessed (or cursed depending on who you talk to) with 2 storms that dumped 33 inches and then 18 inches respectively of the sweet stuff. And I took it upon myself to go and enjoy this powder the best way I know how.
Most people will dress in layers, grab a group of friends, pile into a car and drive many hours to a ski resort where they will spend a small fortune and a lot of time waiting in lines and on chair lifts to get to the groomed corduroy. That used to be my scene, and once in awhile I'll still do that, as there's always a place for that.
However, lately, and perhaps not by coincidence, I have found myself longing for simpler methodology and perhaps harsher conditions. And an experience that is more satisfying (although admittedly riskier). But where there is great risk, there is greater reward.
When I first started to telemark, my goal had always been to leave the ski resort behind. I longed for virgin snow, where no man, ski, or groomer had spoiled that smooth, creamy blanket.
I wanted to get away from the heated spa-lodges with all the crowds, pub fare, and booze and return to an experience more spiritual and perhaps even, religious.
The back country is where I find this. No chair lifts anywhere, the simplest of runs must be earned by hikes that take several hours to complete. No crowds. Sometimes you'll stumble upon a few kindred spirits, and sometimes not. Natural scenes that are drinkable, to the soul at least. After many labored steps, there is the pause, the rituals of gearing up for the run down, and the exhilaration of carving down that trail as you could be the first and only person to do so.
What better way to carpe diem then by earnin' the turnin'?
Winter training
How I've been training for the past several weeks.
With the crazy amount of snow New England has received in the last few weeks, I've been training by taking care of the snow the old fashioned way:
With the crazy amount of snow New England has received in the last few weeks, I've been training by taking care of the snow the old fashioned way:
Getting "fat" in the off season
Getting Fat in the off season
Ah the off season. A time to kick back and relax on the coach catching up on movies and beer consumption. Warm memories of the past season's triumphs and tribulations fading into the dark corners of my brain. No races to anxiously prepare for for another several months, and just days upon days of early nigths and long slumbers.... or so I thought.
I got about 1 month into the off season before I started to get nostalgic for some serious mt biking and outdoor workouts. I hopped back on the bike to squeeze in as many rides as I could get, even riding on new year's day in temperatures hovering just around 25 degrees. There was no snow or ice yet, but the cold was bitingly fierce.
I was ready for telemark and back country skiing and indoor weight training workouts, but there was no snow, just very cold temps. Then a few flakes began to fall and ice started forming on all my favorite trails. The temps were too cold for comfortable mt biking, and the snow wasn't deep enough yet for the back country... so I started to shop.
I have known about fat bikes for several years now with several of them showing up on local trails and races. I always thought of them as a passing fad, but this year I took a serious look at them. I thought what a great way to enjoy the iffy months (October-April). The months where the weather is very unpredictable and the trail conditions equally so.
I did my research as best I could, determined my price range, and started hunting. I didn't want to break the bank on a bike I knew I wouldn't ride all year, and I wanted a simple, but tried and true design. I settled for a chromoly frame, knowing that chromoly is indestructible, although heavy, but would last me a long time and fit into my price range. Components and brakes I was flexible on, although I'd want the best my price range could afford. I had my eye on the Fatboy (entry level trim) but couldn't find a local bike shop that had any in stock, and there was no one who could give me an estimate on their arrival.
However, I did find one bike shop that had a different model still in stock (although a previous year's model). It was for a bike built by a company I had never heard of before. The bike had everything I was looking for in my price range, and as a bonus, it was on sale! So I picked it up. The Maxi is not the lightest of bikes, but it is very fun to ride. It is very stable, offering 4" tires, and just an absolute blast. I've been so happy with it that I have found myself riding in all sort of conditions, from a bitterly cold 8 degree ride, to a snow storm ride, to a bush whacking snow trail run. I've even started entering fat bike races.
As for the couch, the movies, and my beers? They'll have to be enjoyed by someone else; 'cause I've got riding to do :)
Ah the off season. A time to kick back and relax on the coach catching up on movies and beer consumption. Warm memories of the past season's triumphs and tribulations fading into the dark corners of my brain. No races to anxiously prepare for for another several months, and just days upon days of early nigths and long slumbers.... or so I thought.
I got about 1 month into the off season before I started to get nostalgic for some serious mt biking and outdoor workouts. I hopped back on the bike to squeeze in as many rides as I could get, even riding on new year's day in temperatures hovering just around 25 degrees. There was no snow or ice yet, but the cold was bitingly fierce.
I was ready for telemark and back country skiing and indoor weight training workouts, but there was no snow, just very cold temps. Then a few flakes began to fall and ice started forming on all my favorite trails. The temps were too cold for comfortable mt biking, and the snow wasn't deep enough yet for the back country... so I started to shop.
I have known about fat bikes for several years now with several of them showing up on local trails and races. I always thought of them as a passing fad, but this year I took a serious look at them. I thought what a great way to enjoy the iffy months (October-April). The months where the weather is very unpredictable and the trail conditions equally so.
I did my research as best I could, determined my price range, and started hunting. I didn't want to break the bank on a bike I knew I wouldn't ride all year, and I wanted a simple, but tried and true design. I settled for a chromoly frame, knowing that chromoly is indestructible, although heavy, but would last me a long time and fit into my price range. Components and brakes I was flexible on, although I'd want the best my price range could afford. I had my eye on the Fatboy (entry level trim) but couldn't find a local bike shop that had any in stock, and there was no one who could give me an estimate on their arrival.
However, I did find one bike shop that had a different model still in stock (although a previous year's model). It was for a bike built by a company I had never heard of before. The bike had everything I was looking for in my price range, and as a bonus, it was on sale! So I picked it up. The Maxi is not the lightest of bikes, but it is very fun to ride. It is very stable, offering 4" tires, and just an absolute blast. I've been so happy with it that I have found myself riding in all sort of conditions, from a bitterly cold 8 degree ride, to a snow storm ride, to a bush whacking snow trail run. I've even started entering fat bike races.
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