Goodbye 2011, Hello 2012

A wise fictional count once said, “Get some rest. If you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything.”  Then he methodically tortured a poor chap whose only crime was loving too much.  Well, and pirating too much.  And looting.  Some pillaging, I reckon.  Oh, and murder.  There was lots of murder.  But mainly it was the love. 

Such is the story of me having to withdraw from this year’s edition of the Tour Divide.  I loved it too much, and I trained so hard for it that I tortured a years old spinal injury, making it progressively worse until it was so painful that I wanted to pillage and murder.  Instead of that, I decided to “get some rest” and, more importantly, to seek actual medical attention as opposed to continuing my own personal treatment method, which is basically to “just rub some dirt on it.”

Why I just crafted my notice of withdrawal by butchering a scene from “The Princess Bride” is beyond me.  But withdraw, I must, due to this injury and a couple of other ailments which have kept me from any serious saddle time for the last 6 weeks.  If I were to magically have the time and money to run through a battery of aggressive treatments, perhaps I could be well enough to race by June 10th, but there would be no guarantees that the intense pain wouldn’t return during the race, where continued treatment would be non-existent.  Also I wouldn’t be in prime race shape since I’ve had to lay off the training.  It’s just not a recipe for a great race. 

And so I will step aside and let this field of bravehearts seek their own tales of epic glory without me.  And epic it will surely be!  Word is that the snow fields are deep and plentiful this year due to an unusually long and wet winter.  So much so that there is talk of foregoing the majestic Flathead section of the route, as conditions there could be highly deteriorated.  If this winds up being the case, I will feel so bad for these guys and gals, because it would mean they’d miss out on (IMO) the most beautiful portion of the race.  None of the above makes me regret having to withdraw…I would be truly disappointed if I knew I’d be bypassing the Flathead.  Hopefully next year it will not even be an issue. 

Yes!  My plan is to compete next year!  Whether or not it happens is a matter for Fate.  All I know is I will heal myself and prepare as if I’ll be all up in it.  For now, I will switch to fan mode and get my favorite easy chair ready….it’s TD junkie time for me!  I’m actually pretty excited about it, and I’m especially looking forward to watching and listening to my fellow Texans. 

My heartfelt gratitude goes out to everyone who has commented or emailed me with their encouragement and sympathy.  Thanks for being a supportive reader, and if you are riding this year, GOOD LUCK my friend!  You are about to embark on a long grind and a great experience, and I’ll be watching!  To those looking at 2012…I will see you in Banff next year!

TD 2011 Training Entry #3: Stan’s The Man

I know what you’re thinking.  It’s written all over your face.  Don’t ask me how I can see your face right now…you DON’T want to know.  Also, why you would let someone write all over your face, I can’t begin to imagine.  Were you the first one to fall asleep at a party?  And if so, why was I not invited?

So anyway…what was I saying?  Oh yeah.  I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking “Hey Ton, when are you going to talk about your wheelset, and who do you like to win American idol?  I can’t believe they voted Pia off!  When I saw that, I nearly took a Pia in my pants!” 

I hear you.  On the wheeleset, I mean.  I don’t watch American Idol, so I can’t really comment on how I think James Durbin is going to win.  And sorry to tell you, friend, but that Pia joke was only slightly funny for about half a second. 

Now, down to business!  I received my new Stans Arch 29er wheelset this week and performed the tubeless installation a couple nights ago.  This being my first tubeless experience, I had spent a lot of time reading up on all the problems I might encounter during installation.  I read about how it may be tough to inflate the tire and that an air compressor was needed, and about how I may need additional rim tape, and about pourous sidewalls and how some tires just won’t seal no matter what.  Loads of stuff.  So I went into the installation expecting problems.

It was all for nothing.  I followed the instructions on notubes.com and the whole procedure was as easy as pie.  The bead popped into place using only my hand pump, I didn’t have to pump furiously at all, and what miniscule leaks there were sealed up very quickly.  I took ‘em out for a 20 mile maiden ride last night, and they were as smooth as silk.

If you’re wondering why I went with the Arch rims over the lighter 355’s, it’s mainly for peace of mind.  For me, the extra support of the Arch is worth a few more grams.

My tires are the “new” WTB Nanos with the aramid bead.  Nano(raptors) have been the de facto tire choice for the Tour Divide for years …I saw no reason be an outlaw.  The toughest thing about installing these tires on to the Arch wheels was popping one side of the tire off the wheel so I could pour in the sealant.   That sucker did NOT want to lever off.  I can’t imagine what it would take to blow the seal on these babies. 

I’m not mega-happy about going with the Stans 330 hubs.  I would have preferred DT Swiss or even Hope hubs, but at some point you have to draw the line on all the crazy spending. 

So anyway, I wrote this little mini-review to help anyone else who is considering undergoing the tubeless experience for the first time.  Methinks you could do much worse than to go with Stans and Nanos.  Also, ”The Tubeless Experience” would be a pretty cool name for a rock band.  (thanks Dave Barry!)

This weekend, Pat and I are heading to Huntsville where I’m going to test out the new get-up on 30 miles of singletrack + 90 miles of paved/dirt road ridin’.  For the first time in months, I’ll be riding with no TD kit!  Partly because I deserve a “reward” ride on the new wheels after months of lugging my entire gear kit around, and partly because next weekend is the Red River Riot, a 130 mile race near the Texas/Oklahoma border.  I need to get used to my kitless weight this weekend so I don’t freak myself out during the Riot with my newfound speeds of blinding fury.  After that race, I’ll true the wheels and hang ‘em up until the TD, as I don’t want to wear the tread on the Nanos anymore than I have to.  Besides, the extra rolling resistance on my old wheelset makes for good trainin’!

For the month, I’m shooting for 800 miles of riding, which would easily be my best monthly total ever, and 550 miles of that will be with full kit.  If you don’t know why I keep mentioning that on this blog, it’s because going full TD kit makes a huge difference.  The miles are tougher with the extra weight, and your knees take more of a pounding.  Like I mentioned in my Lessons Learned page, if you’re a TD hopeful, you should be training with extra weight to become accustomed to the added grind.  Ignore at your own peril! 

That’s all I got for now…look for my Red River Riot report after next weekend!

TD 2011 Training Entry #2: Geartrippin’

Gear.

It drives us.  It enables our adventures.  It fuels our obsessions.  Gear is Life.

We must have it.  We must use it.  We must read reviews about it, post questions in forums about it, and save up money to get it, much to the chagrin of our spouses, who are the unfortunate victims of our costly inattentions.   

Gear:  give it to us.

The most visited page on this Tour Divide blog is (surprisingly) my Big Bend page, which isn’t so much about the Tour Divide.  After that, however, it’s my gear list page.  Fans and riders (especially rookies) of the Tour Divide are supremely interested in the gear lists of other riders, and for good reason.  You’re gonna be alone and self dependant in the remote wilds of the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route…you better have what you need.  There’s a kind of romantic fascination in that thought.  Non-bikepackers are astonished when I tell them I’m carrying everything I need to affect my survival and assured mobility for (hopefully) 2700+ miles.  “What are you taking with you!?” they ask incredulously.  “Are you gonna have a tent?  What about water and food?  What if your bike breaks down?  What about protection!?” 

I love the protection question.  It affords me the opportunity to make groan-inducing jokes about either condoms or my “deadly fists of fury,” both of which I insist are highly effective protective devices.   But eventually I tell them the real answer, which is “a bear bell and maybe a whistle,” and I am often rewarded with priceless looks of horror. 

But enough of that!  You want to know about my gear choices/configuration for the 2011 Tour Divide, and I aim to fulfill your gear-lust.  So first off:

Gear I Carried Last Year That Won’t Make the Cut This Year, In No Particular Order!

1. ACA Maps – Comforting to have, but all of them together form a brick of paper with little real value other than the elevation profiles and services info.  I’m extracting and condensing this info into a few sheets of paper.
2. Toe Warmers – I carried several packs of them last year and only used one, and that one didn’t work.  The thing is, your feet pretty much stay wet on the route, probably through Colorado, rendering these ineffective while riding.  And I didn’t need them at night in my goose down sleeping bag, so they get the axe, and I live with cold, wet feet while riding.
3. MSR Dromedary Bag – Took it last year with the Great Basin in mind, and it turned out to be unnecessary weight.  If I make it to the Basin this year, I’ll know my water sources ahead of time and I’ll shove some extra water bottles in my jersey and/or frame bag.
4. One Water Bottle – I had two water bottles mounted to my forks last year using TwoFish bottle cages and extra zip ties and Velcro ties.  The setup just plain bothered me…I was always fiddling with the ties and repositioning the holders because they’d slide around the forks and junk.  And I really only ever used them for purifying water with my Steripen and then dumping it into my Camelbak.  So I keep one bottle which will mount to my frame and ditch the other bottle and holder.
5. My Backpack!! – Oh baby, this is a biggie.  I’ve eliminated enough gear to be able to reapportion all my remaining stuff, enabling a free-wheelin’, rump-saving backpackless configuration.  I didn’t feel comfortable even thinking about this as a rookie.  This year…loosey goosey, baby… loosey goosey.
6. Sirius Cold Weather Gloves – Touted as windproof, coldproof, and waterproof.  Bah!  I take “Sirius” issue with these claims.  They are not even close to any of the above.  I had tested a few pairs of gloves before these, and none of them kept the nasty stuff out to any great degree.  So I thought I would just “live” with these.  If only I’d known about the Gordini gloves which I will carry this year. 
7. Seal Skinz Chillblocker Waterproof Socks – Great idea, but they just didn’t work for me.  Heavy, cumbersome, no warmer than thick wool socks, and not waterproof.  When you’re tromping through snowmelt and/or its raining on you all day long, water eventually gets in, either from the top or right through the material, rendering these useless.  I threw them away in Ovando.
8. Pearl Izumi Therma Fleece Tights – Last year I’d thought to use these as my sleepwear as well as cold riding pants.  But I was constantly pulling them up while riding, and they are heavier and bulkier than just separate leg warmers.  Going with the leg warmers this year.
9. Showers Pass Rain Pants – They worked, but they were heavy, bulky, and tight.  My quads are extremely large and sexy…much too sexy for these pants.  They wound up ripping in the groin and down the inseam.  This year I’m going with a cheapo pair of rain pants and just may wind up chucking those.
10. Nanopuff Down Jacket – This one still surprises me a little but it’s the right call.  This lightweight marvel is quite compact and kept me very warm.  Too warm.  I put in on over my base layer and jersey two separate mornings in 30-something degree weather, and a few miles later, I felt like I was in a sauna.  My torso was on friggin’ fire.  It’s just too much.  I didn’t use it after that.  Even when I rode through the snowstorm on Huckleberry Pass, it was just unnecessary.  My Showers Pass rain jacket over my base layer kept me plenty warm.

New Gear I Will Carry!

1. Secondary GPS – See #5 above.  Thanks to Pat Smith for letting me borrow his for backup.
2. Sea to Summit 5 Liter Kitchen Sink – If there was one thing I couldn’t stand about last year’s race, it was myself.  You know…the stench.  Inhaling my own putrescence all day long for days on end wreaked havoc on my psyche.  And trying to locate Laundromats in the cities, let alone spending a couple hours there laundering your stank threads, is not a speedy option.  This compact, magical piece of gear will allow me to launder my clothes and wash my body/hair in the wilds, thus erasing that overwhelming desire to spend way too much time seeking hotel showers and Laundromats.   It lets me stay human, conveniently.
3. Dr. Bonner’s Pure Castile Soap 2 oz – used with the above.
4. Bib Shorts – Yeah, I’ve had enough of the sagging shorts experience.  Time to go full monty.  I’ve just been dreading that little strip tease you have to do when you need to excrete. 
5. Alpine Design Rain pants – Lightweight cheapos that I may just wind up throwing away
6. Epic Design Fuel Cell – Thanks to Pat Smith once again for letting me borrow it
7. Gordini AquaBloc Elite Gloves – Thick and warm, even in freezing temperatures.  Wish I’d have had these last year instead of the CRAPPY Sirius gloves.

My full gear list will be updated shortly.  I am still tinkering with a few things, but the freedom of backpacklessness is an extraordinary gift to myself.  It has really helped to take the pressure off my rump.

In addition to the new gear, I’ve steadily amassed new components for my Orbea over the last half year…a whole new drive train, a new Stans wheelset, new seat and seat post, etc.  I’ll publish full specs soon. 

Next up on the agenda, another multiday this coming weekend and then my rematch with the Red River Riot up neat the Texas/Oklahoma border.  Should be a blast!  I’m hoping to get about 800 miles of riding in for the month, with about 80% of that being fully loaded with TD kit. 

TD 2011 Training Entry #1: Ain’t No Tailwinds In Texas

Dang…less than three measly months to go before the TD and I’m just now getting around to my first real training post for 2011.  I’ve let my gajillions of faithful readers down.  What would Charlie Sheen say?  I bet it would be something along the lines of:

“I’m tired of losing all my gold into the fucking ether-sphere of fucking stupidity. My thing is fucking gold and platinum and diamonds and every other precious fucking gem that falls out of fucking losers buttholes.”

Thanks Charlie.  That is my absolute favorite quote from your crazy ass.  Well the truth is that even though I haven’t been posting much, I’ve sure been training as much as a full time job and family will let me.   However, since this is my second time around the block, I seem to have lost that former desire to detail every training excursion while taking loads of pictures to document them.  I mean, I’m a big bad Veteran now, so I suppose things that seemed monumental to me before no longer seem worthy of detailed, individual analysis.  Or maybe I’m just type-lazy. 

Whateva the case, I’m just gonna kinda mash together everything I’ve done, training-wise, up to this point.  My next post will detail my changes in gear/components.   If you’re a starry-eyed Tour Divide noob reading my site for the first time, and you’re wondering how you might build yourself up from a bacon-jacket wearing couch fixture to Tour Divide competitor, read my 2010 training posts, for I was once a top model for Bacon Wear Unlimited. 

If you don’t already know, I live in a town called Deer Park just southeast of Houston, TX.  It’s FLAT.  No, dude, I don’t mean that the climbs are short and/or not very steep.  I mean there ARE no climbs.  At all.  It’s FLAAAATT.  You can stand anywhere you want and still see things 20 miles away with the naked eye.  That is, if the smog is not irradiating your eye holes that day.  This is the worst environment you could ever train in for a race like the TD.  Besides being ultra-flat, it’s also eye-wateringly polluted, searingly hot, heavily humid, and chock full of obese, angry drivers.  It is a steamy cesspool of land that I like to call The Armpit of America (Florida is the arm).  And I live here.  Are you weeping for me yet?   

As much as I’d love to get away from here for some “real” TD training, I simply don’t have the vacation time to travel somewhere “good” and get in hundreds of miles of elevation riding.  Just like last year, I must save every bit of vacation time for the actual race.  So what’s a fella to do?

The Texas Hill Country is my answer.  I make the 3+ hour drive out there on weekends anytime I get the chance so I can take advantage of the rolling terrain.  It’s not much in the way of elevation, but at least there is some decent climbing, clean air, and lots of lonely country roads.  And WIND.  Holy hell, is there ever wind! 

A quick word about Texas wind:  it hates me.  It loathes even the imperceptible recesses of my soul.  When I ride North, it blows from the South.  When I turn back South, it blows from the North.  Yep, it spontaneously changes direction based on MY heading, defying the laws of nature specifically to pulverize my sanity.  And if you think I’m kidding, then you have not peer-reviewed my highly scientific analyses of the situation, whereby clumps of grass and loogies are hurled into the air and their flight patterns are observed and cursed at.  Doesn’t matter where in Texas I’m riding…Austin, Houston, Dallas, Big Bend…the wind cares not.  It is always in my face, and its ferocity increases when I’m least in the mood for it.   Check out the video below…it’s from a recent trip to the country east of Austin when the winds were blowing at 30 mph all damn day:

That was a fine day indeed.  I was woken up that morning at 4:30 AM by a rain storm that should not have existed, according to various meteorologists.  Based on their stellar predictions, I hadn’t set up a rain cover over my bivy, and I got soaked real quick.  So I got up and began riding, only to be assaulted by relentless headwinds, which persisted all day long.  And there I was, pushing against it with all my might, because I’m trying to get faster.  After 103 miles of that, I was toast.  Just absolute toast.

And that brings me to my main topic of the day: gettin’ faster!  That has been my focus since late last year, and I’ve had mixed results.  Before TD 2010, my training was focused more on endurance than speed.  Back then I just wanted to make it for the long haul in one piece.  But then I raced the TD and found that, physically, I held up extremely well.  I felt that I had more to give.  I felt that, assuming I could lose some gear weight and some body weight, I could push a little harder and move a little faster.  So that’s exactly what my training has focused on.

During my 100+ miles rides in the Hill Country, I’ve been pushing harder, taking fewer breaks, and eating less food (because I suck at eating while riding).  The results…yeah I’ve definitely increased my speed, routinely finishing my hundys 1-2 hours faster than last year.  But I feel much more fatigued afterwards, too.  The legs and knees are crying for a day or two afterwards.  As it stands now, I couldn’t imagine keeping a pace like that for multiple days.  Hopefully, if I keep ballin’ out, it will get easier and easier.  If not…screw it!  I’ll just race TD 2011 at a much more enjoyable pace for longer hours per day.  Hell, I can barely sleep out there anyway.

 So here’s a good week’s training for me right now.   It’s not ideal, but it’s pretty much the best I can muster up with a full time job and family to consider:

Monday
12:00 PM – Spin cycle for 40 minutes during lunch break
6:00 PM – 25-30 mile ride, full TD kit

Tuesday
12:00 PM – Spin cycle for 40 minutes during lunch break
6:00 PM – 25-30 mile ride, full TD kit

Wednesday
12:00 PM – high intensity weight training for 40 minutes during lunch break; upper body

Thursday
12:00 PM – Spin cycle for 40 minutes during lunch break
6:00 PM – 25-30 mile ride, full TD kit

Friday
Off
8:00 PM -  drive 3 hours out to the Hill Country and bivy up

Saturday
5:00 AM – Begin 100+ mile ride, drive back home when finished

Sunday
Off

Sometimes I will substitute a 6-ish mile run for a ride so I can spend time with the wife.  And sometimes I get lazy and don’t do shit.  Such a day is usually accompanied by an entire Meat Lovers Pizza forcing its way down my unwilling throat. 

My buddy and former TD aspirant Pat Smith accompanies me on some of my Hill Country ventures.  What I love about his company is that 1) he’s a funny guy and a cool friend and 2) he makes me feel like Flash Gordon on wheels.  Ha!  Thanks Pat!  I know you’re just pretending that I’m way faster than you to boost my confidence!  One thing Pat doesn’t know yet (but will after reading this) is that I am grooming him for 2012…we will be riding a tandem.  We’ll be known as “The Tony & Pat Experience.”  Or, for short, “The TP Experience.”  Heh.  Heh heh.   

One last thing I want to mention is the “staggering” number of Texans signed up for this year’s race.  I was honestly a little shocked to see so many of them appear on the Start List, because, well, Texans in the TD has been a rarity up to this point.  I mean, hell, this ain’t Colorado.  Here’s all of us:

Cadet Bryant (V) – Big Springs, TX
JP Evans (R) – McKinney, TX
Yours Truly (V) – Deer Park, TX
Vance McMurray (R) – Austin, TX
Ray Porter (V) – Dallas, TX
Dale Shadley (R) – San Antonio, TX
Steve Moore (R) – Wimberly, TX (South to North)
Shelia Reitner (R) – Austin, TX (not on Start List yet)
Sheila  Torres-Blank (R) – Austin, TX (not a typo..there are two Shelias are not on the Start List yet!)
Sandra Musgrave (R) – Austin (not on Start List yet)

And I know of at least two more dudes who may yet sign up.  Hey, I’m beginning to think my forthcoming title of “First Texan to Finish the Tour Divide” is in serious jeopardy!  There are some folks on this list who are “The Real Deal”…I’m gonna have to up my game to even have a sliver of a chance!  Some of us are meeting in Austin at the end of April for pre-TD note comparison…I’m lookin’ forward to an exciting exchange of ideas.  If you’re one of the folks on the list who hasn’t heard about this meeting, email me! tony at gdrquest dot com. 

In my next post, which I am really looking forward to, I will be introducing you to my new and improved BACKPACKLESS configuration.  Yeah, buddy…I’ve eliminated some gear and achieved my own personal Holy Grail of bikepacking setups.  You’ll be amazed at what you see!  (Not really…I suspect you’ll just be “interested,” not “amazed.”  I’ve been conditioned by capitalist media, what can I say)  See you soon!

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TD 2011 Training Prologue

What a difference a year makes.

More accurately, what a difference racing the Tour Divide makes.  From dreaming about it for years to actually participating in it in 2010 has completely changed my outlook for my 2011 bid.  Gone is the “starstruck” effect it had on me during my two year build up from noob to racer.  Gone is the obsession over gear choices.  Gone is the nervousness and anxiety about whether or not I will be “ready” for an undertaking of this magnitude.

This year, there is a “V” for veteran next to my name on the Start List.  Although I don’t feel like I fully earned it, my attitude towards the TD this time around certainly feels more veteran-ish.  There is a calmness governing my preparations and my training.    A feeling of realism has replaced my almost childlike excitement.  And there is resolve:  just a very strong determination and focus to “do it right” this time.  This can be evidenced by my Letter of Intent.  Last year, my LOI was a long-winded joke fest, easily the lengthiest submission on the list.  This year, it’s two sentences.  I’d post them here but I honestly don’t even remember them, and the TD web site is not displaying the LOI’s for some reason.  My letter says something along the lines of “Vengeance is mine.  Let’s do this.”

That being said, I’m still as happy as a clam to be pursuing the most awesome race in the world once again.    Why we look upon clams as the Bastion of Happiness, I’ll never know.  I mean, they can’t even have sex.  And with all that water in their mouths all the time, I reckon it’s pretty difficult to drink beer, too.  What are your thoughts? 

Ha!  Did you think my second bid for the TD would make me less corny?! 

Yes, I’m happy to be working towards a magnificent goal once again, and I am anxious to avenge my disappointing drop from last year.  I tell ya, that feeling you get when you’re coming home, knowing that the race is still going on…it’s brutal.  Getting home and watching the race on the Leaderboard, listening to call-ins from guys you’d been speaking with in person just a few days ago…even brutaller.  (Yes, brutaller is a word now)  Having to quit the race after spending almost two years in training and spending a small fortune in the process….brutalzilla.  Yep.  I said BRUTALZILLA.

But that’s all in the past.  A few months ago, I began working on my number one goal for this year, and that is: getting faster.  I placed getting faster in italics because words look speedier in when they slant to the right.  The first thing I did to get faster is to peel the Orbea decal off my frame and replace it with an Orbea decal.  I instantly gained 2 mph, and I wasn’t even riding the bike.  Does that blow your mind? 

Seriously, I have identified my “areas of improvement” after my 2010 experience, and I’ve begun working on them.  Here are my macro goals for this year’s TD:

1. Get faster.  I’d like to stay with (or at least close to) the main pack this year.  Secretly I want to beat the main pack, but I won’t hold my breath. Also I guess that’s not a secret anymore.  Anyway, I want to pick up my average speed and maximize my daylight hours by taking fewer/shorter breaks, especially in towns.  This means harder training among other things (see #3).  I also need to avoid a group mentality and be strong enough to move on alone.   I’d actually gone into 2010 with most of the above strategy but I wasn’t disciplined enough to make it stick.  I have to remember:  it’s a race….race it.
2. Get tougher.  Against harsh elements, and against my own brain.  A combination of those things did me in last year.  If you’ve read my 2010 story, you know I developed a phobia mid-race.  Gotta correct these shortcomings.  
3. Get lighter.  Drop some gear weight and some body weight.  The gear weight is easy…I’ve already identified some stuff that isn’t making the cut this year (to be detailed in an upcoming post).  The body weight is tougher.  I’ve been a pocket-sized linebacker my whole life, and my upper body just refuses to lose mass in any meaningful quantity, even with the training and a clean diet.  I think I’m destined for the dreaded calorie count, as well as near-abandonment of weight resistance training (except for core)….I really want to come in about 15 pounds lighter this year.  Should work wonders for the speed. 
4. Take a new vital piece of gear…..a Snuggie.  Wife’s orders.  She saw the picture of me riding through a snowstorm on Huckleberry Pass last year and she didn’t like it one bit. 

Ha!  Kidding on that last one.  Or am I? (yes)

As for my reasons for attempting this thing again…they haven’t changed much.  I still long for wide open beauty, I still yearn for peaceful solitude, and I still want to embark on the most adventurous competition of my life.  I suppose you can add vengeance to the list. In a world where an average joe like me has meager opportunity to accomplish something great and memorable, the Tour Divide looms large.  It speaks to me.  It says, “Be awesome.  Do what few can.  Ride me.”   And I respond, “Did you get that from my wife?”

As I write this, the 2011 Start List has swelled to an unprecedented 74 entries for the classic north to south route, and unlike last year, I won’t be the only Texan in this hare-brained race!  Veteran Ray Porter from Dallas is back in as well as a handful of other Lone Star Staters.  I’ve been in contact with several others who may yet sign up, too, including a certain superhuman from Odessa, if he can be bothered to stop running 120+ mile ultra endurance marathons for a few weeks.   My point is that this year, I will have some friendly competition for the coveted title of First Texan to Finish the Tour Divide.  To that I can only say…. YEEEHAW!! 

Ok, so it’s time for me to start writing about my training again.  I’ve been at it since late last year, and I’ve got a lot of posts building in my mental database.  I’m sure my sometimes-training partner Pat Smith is wondering where his mentions are.  (Here’s the first one, dude!)  Look for some new stuff soon!

Get This Book!

Two time Tour Divide racer Eric Bruntjen has just released The Cordillera, a collection of stories, essays, interviews and poems focused on Divide Racing (both Tour Divide and Great Divie Race).  Contributors to the book include such notables as Jon Billman (Outside Magazine), Mark Jenkins (Outside Magazine and National Geographic) and 2009 racers Paul Howard (Two Wheels on My Wagon) and Jill Homer (of Up in Alaska fame).  There are also essays from Scott Morris and the original Divide Racer himself: John Stamstad!  And guess what…yours truly managed to sneak a little something into the book as well!

All proceeds from the sale of the Cordillera go to the Adventure Cycling Association (creators of the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route).  So get a great book while contributing to a worthy cause!

http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/the-cordillera-volume-1/11051486

Enjoy!

TD Training Entry #15: The Final Countdown

As the sole Texan signed up for this year’s Tour Divide, I would like to start out by saying:

YYYEEEEEEEEEHHHAAAWWW PARDNER!!  Git along little doggies cuz evrathang’s bigger in Texas!!  Remember tha Alamo!  Longhorns!  Cowboys!  George Bush Sr. AND  Jr!   Oil wells!  Luv Ya Blue!  Bang bang bang!! 

And so forth and so on.  Let it never be said that I bravely fight the grave injustice of stereotyping.

Less than three short weeks from now, I am set to begin the greatest adventure of my life, and I hope to bring the very first Tour Divide finish back to the Lone Star State!  If I may be so bold as to reveal my true goal for the first time on this blog, it would be to finish in sub 22 days.   Wow…I suffered a little even as I TYPED that!

My recent training efforts have been nothing to write about in great detail…a 100 miler here, an 80 miler there, throw in a decent multi-day or two.  It has really become very boring riding the same old routes over and over again, hence the lack of substantial training updates on this blog.  My biggest challenge, though, has been trying to force my body to get up and moving at 4 A.M.  This is my desired wake-up time on the Tour and I’ve been trying like hell to adjust with mixed results.  After doing it for an ungodly 4 days in a row and immediately riding 30 miles before work, I was thinking I was on my way.  Then I got sick.  AGAIN!!!

Every year, I get bronchitis, usually in the beginning of the fall.  In recent years, though, its raspy tendrils have not taken hold of me to the same degree as in years past.  Its like it has been letting me off the hook.  This past fall, it was nowhere to be seen.  I thought I had kicked it, thanks to a better diet and my intense Tour Divide training.  Pffft.  “Foolish mortal,” some voice somewhere probably said, “You dare mock The Way of Things!?  For that, take two, yes, TWO heapings of bronchitis this year!  One before each of your most major events!  MWUHAHAH!!  Damn you to Hell for some reason!! MWUHAHAHA!!!”

And so I was stricken before the Texas Chainring Massacre, which luckily was postponed and I was still able to race, and now, I am stricken once again.  This time before the Event of all Events.  The one I’ve been waiting for for two looong years.  That’s right.  The series finale of Lost. 

Kidding, of course.  I’ve not seen episode one of that show, but every mouth within a fifty mile radius has been forcibly shoving Lost-realted dialogue into my hear holes.  I was talking of course, about the Tour Divide, and I am ill once again, sitting at home, worrying like hell that I’m going to start this race with the remains of my ever stubborn infection.  Oh yes, I will start this race as planned, however sick I may still be.  I have been training and obssessing for too hard and too long to let these viral little shits have any say-so over my dream race.  Fellow TD’ers, consider this an advance warning!  Give me a wide berth, lest I ruin your race like the white man ruined Native Americans! 

<– My next TD rig?    As gung ho as I may sound, I do admit that I’m pretty damn nervous as well.  Although I’ve come a long way, I still sometimes feel like the ultra-noob I was when I first began this quest.  I find myself panicking about my gear choices and questioning my set up, things like that, even though there’s not a heck of a lot I can do about it now.  I also worried pretty hard about my surgically repaired right knee.  It gave me some problems while bikepacking out at Big Bend, so I ran to my orthopedist to have it checked out.  He said it looked great other than a little arthritis.  Got some good anti-inflammatories from him, which I’ve stowed away for the race, and the layoff caused by my sickness really has it feeling good again.   To test it out, I kicked a guy in the groin when he started talking to me about Lost. 

This week, while laying around, I got my GPS all loaded up with Scott Morris’ new TD 2010 split track and also topo maps for the entire route.  My brain took quite a flogging trying to get that one figured out.  Thanks to the peeps at gpsfiledepot.com for the maps and the help.  I also made my cue sheets and (unfortunately) added more stuff to my load.  Things like a vitamin bag, an extra bag for my ACA maps, my new Steripen, my camera battery charger, etc…none of them heavy by themselves, but all togther they make a big difference.   So much for ultra minimalism. 

I also got my music nailed down for my MP3 player.  Most recently, I dumped a ton of classical music on there.  Bach, Beethoven, Chopin, Mozart…I tried it out on a recent training ride and loved how it affected my riding.  I even threw on some Medieval and Renaissance music, old Irish folk songs, things like that, and it has just been excellent.  Eric Bruntjen turned me on to some alternative country which has been a nice surprise, and bluegrass music (especially the O’ Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack) is really mellowing and promotes an even keel.  Of course I still have the Metallica and the Godsmack and the Alice in Chains, but I wonder now how much I will want to listen to them…they often seem to disrupt the nice, long-haul type of mood I want to be in for long distance riding.  And by the way, BEST. SONG. EVER. for the Tour Divide…..laugh if  you must, but I think its the “Wheel of Pain” from the Conan the Barbarian soundtrack.  It moans with unspeakable suffering and ends in clashing triumph.  It is a musical microcosm of the TD.  Or so I would assume.

BUT…I plan to only use the MP3 player when I need a pick me up.  I honestly wonder how much I will need it.  I was born and raised in southeast Texas, where the land is flat and smoggy, and where the horizon is ruined by chemical smoke stacks billowing putresence into the atmosphere.  The two times I have visited  the Rockies, I have been awestruck.  Its like culture shock.  I am just absolutely in heaven when I gaze upon the majestic snow capped peaks and glittering mountain lakes.  Whereas these scenes might be same ol’ same ol’ to my fellow riders, I for one will be well occupied, jaw agape, as I ride through stunning scenery that I have only rarely experienced. 

So, assuming I get well by this weekend, I’ll get in one more long ride on Saturday, then I’ll show off  the rig and gear at a send off party my family is having for me on Sunday.  After that, I’ll prep the bike for boxing and continue riding my Jamis next week.  I’ll ride every day next week, but only 25-30 miles a day, just to keep the legs ready and my body waking up at 4 A.M. (fates willing).   We leave for Banff on June 7th.  I’M STOKED!

Look for at least one more post before I leave!  Thanks for reading!  (sorry for the lack of pics!!)

TD Training Entry #14: Magic in the Hill Country

This past Friday, I bade farewell to my very understanding wife and began a five hour drive out west to the Texas Hill Country, so named because it’s very hilly and very Texasy.   (See, down here in the Lone Star State, we name things what they are.  Not like, say, the Andes Mountains, which is comprised of not even one single Andy, let alone many Andes)  In general terms, the hill country is a rugged 14,000 square mile area north of San Antonio and west of Austin, with a maximum elevation of just under 2,500 feet.  You may not know that it is also Lance Armstrong’s backyard…he has a 450 acre ranch west of Austin with some pretty gnarly trails in it.  Although we’re not exactly talking Mt. Kilimanjaro here, this area is the closest I can travel to on weekends for training purposes, since I’m leery of using any precious vacation hours to travel somewhere “good” for some elevation training.  At this moment, I have five weeks of vacation saved up (I haven’t taken an actual vacation from work in a year and a half….arrgh!!) and I expect to  have almost six weeks by June.  That should cover pre-race travel and acclimatization, four weeks of racing, if needed, and then one more week for post-race travel and recovery.  That’s worst case scenario.  Best case scenario, of course, is that I finish sub 21 days because I rocket straight down the entire route as though my bike and I were shot from a cannon, possibly causing the syrupy drool of slack-jawed spectators to sway erratically in my wake. 

OK, so where was I?  Oh yeah, the hill country.  I’d made all my preparations  during the week, ready to jet as soon as I got off work on Friday.  My goal was to bivy Friday night at my Canyon Lake campsite, ride a 120 mile loop on Saturday, bivy again that night, and then on Sunday get in another 60 miles at least, and maybe 80, time permitting.  As always, though, Fate had other plans!

After I’d left the house and driven a few miles, I began mentally running over my checklist again, and I couldn’t help but to pull over and make absolutely certain that I had all my gear in the truck.  That’s when I noticed a broken spoke on my front wheel.  Huh?!  When did that happen?  I had no replacements, it was after 5:00 PM, and I had to check in at Canyon Lake by 10:00 or they’d close the gates on me!  If I couldn’t somehow get it fixed right now, I’d have to find some bike shop near Canyon Lake the next morning and waste hours of precious training time waiting for them to open and then begging them to give me immediate priority, and I didn’t even know if there was a shop anywhere in that area to begin with.  I considered calling off the trip and just riding locally (the very thought of which I’ve come to loathe with all my soul) but Canyon Lake already had my money for two nights of camping. 

I furiously began calling bike shops in Houston that were in a general westerly direction…if one of them would take me, it wouldn’t put me out of my way too much.  Long story short, I was shot down three times before the mechanic at the fourth shop, Daniel Boone Cycles, agreed to save my weekend.  I hauled ass down there, and he fixed me up lickety split, and he cut some spare spokes for me as well.   I forced him to accept a generous tip and I blasted off…right into rush hour traffic!  UGH!  As I sat impatiently in my truck, inching down the freeway, it occurred to me that I had just trained for one aspect of the Tour Divide.  Calling ahead to bike shops and begging them to stay late and do work for you is a prevalent theme in past call-ins to MTBCast.  I now have some experience in that!  Sweet!

Somehow, someway, I made it to Canyon Lake just before closing time.  “We were just about to give up on you!” said the weary-eyed old lady at the gate.  I didn’t tell her that if I had arrived to find the gates closed after a manic four hour drive, I’d already decided that I was going to paint the words, “We Eat Poo” on the guard shack.

I made a hasty camp using only what I will have on the TD and fell asleep quickly, not heeding the fact that my efforts to get here had been so frantic that I’d forgotten to eat.  Friend, that is something I’ve never “forgotten” in my entire life.  I am usually thinking about what my next meal will be and when I can make it happen, and I was doing that way before I started training for the TD.  Don’t make me get all Fat Albert up in here. 

My plan was to crawl out of my bivy sack no later than 5:30 AM and be in the saddle by 6:15 or so.  FAIL.  I got up at 6:30 and proceeded to display alarming slackitude for an hour and a half while I took pictures, fiddled with gear, and scratched my ass while looking at deer.  I was rolling by 8:00, but I was cussing myself for losing almost 2 hours of riding time. 

I rode up and out of Canyon Lake and was immediately rewarded with a long, steep climb, which I knew was coming from having driven down it last night.  Double granny whammy right off the bat.  Thus began my most challenging and most scenic ride to date! 

The hill country is quite beautiful, at least by comparison to where I live.  It is miles upon miles of rolling hills and sweeping views.  It features tons of steep climbs (and exhilarating descents) and has a great open air feel which I don’t get to experience much.  That being said, I didn’t enjoy it as much as I thought I would.  I’d failed to realize just how developed the hill country was.  For one thing, what I thought would be 120 miles worth of lonely farm and county roads turned out to be heavily traveled and bustling with traffic.  And it wasn’t that nice country traffic where the rare vehicle is not in a hurry and always give you a wide berth.  No, this was that mean city traffic.  Cars were barreling down the road and sometimes coming so close to me that my asshole puckered up to the size of an atom.  Much of the time, there was only a tiny sliver of shoulder to ride on, and often there was no shoulder at all.  As beautiful as my surroundings were, the ride itself was pretty stressful.  I was too scared to even think of putting my headphones in, as I needed all my senses for avoiding a careless doom. 

I attacked the climbs with delight, and I roared into the downhills with glee.  I got up to 37.5 mph on the steepest one, which is the fastest I’d ever gone on a bike.  I’d always imagined I’d be scared shitless going that fast, but no, my shit remained intact, and I was grinning ear to ear the entire way down.   

About 50 miles in, I started really disliking the continued intake of junk food.  In order to simulate my Tour Divide diet, I was fueling on candy, Little Debbies, and assorted other crap.  As I mentioned, I’d forgotten to eat the night before, and there were no breakfast places on the early part of my route, so I hadn’t had anything substantial.  The crap wasn’t sitting well, and I decided I wouldn’t eat it anymore…I’d push to Johnson City 20 miles away and grub there.  A lesson would soon be learned from that decision…

At mile 60 I hit Pedernales Falls State Park and went on a site seeing tour there.  From having studied up on it, I knew they had about 8 miles of singletrack there as well as some nice waterfalls to snap pictures of.  The park was pretty crowded, and I couldn’t get any pictures of the falls without people in them.  That, along with the non-stop intense traffic on the roads, was really beginning to grate on me.  I was hungry for solitude and I knew now that it would not be forthcoming.  I loved that the route itself was so challenging, but I was beginning to regret having made this trip…it felt like every resident of the hill country was on top of me, and not in a good way.  I decided I was not going to ride in the same conditions tomorrow.  I would complete this 120 mile loop, bivy down, and leave in the morning, and that knowledge was very sad indeed.

I took off from Pedernales, trying to focus on the satisfaction of having visited it rather than the disappointment in my decision to leave, and a few miles down the road, I began to feel a bonk coming on.  Could this be right?  I mentally reviewed my food intake….yep, I had not been eating enough.  I hadn’t eaten from my junk stores in a couple hours, and even before that I was taking in too little, because it just wasn’t going down right.  Plus, I’d had no “real” meal since yesterday afternoon.

But damnit, I didn’t want to eat anymore shitty candy!  Not until I had a shitty double cheeseburger and shitty fries in me at least.  I was 7 miles or so from Johnson City, I would forego the candy and push on.  I could make it.

I began to crank with a purpose until I heard “rattle plink rattle plink”…my cassette had come loose.  I guessed I didn’t tighten it enough when I’d taken it off to clean my drive train the other day.  My lock ring tool and wrench were back at the truck.  Shit!  I would have to live with the rattling and the piss poor shifting. 

I returned my gaze to the road, and I felt the familiar dizziness indicative of the onset of bonktown.   Come on Tony…only five more miles.  Don’t eat the damn Skittles.  Just five more miles.  But it was too late.  Each pedal stroke suddenly felt as if someone had tied 20 pound weights on each foot, and my thoughts were becoming more and more disorganized.  I saw a massive climb comin’ at me, with a water tower marking its crest.  Making me earn it, huh?  Fine, it will be all downhill into Johnson City after that.  I plowed on and eventually reached the top to discover….no water tower. 

No.  Water.  Tower.  I’d hallucinated it.

I stopped pedaling…I looked around…was it hidden in the trees??  No…it was never there.  As I stood there straddling my top post for a few minutes in a daze, I became aware of my legs shaking weakly, not wanting to support me.  Hm…I guess I better eat the sonofabitchin’ Skittles.

After lying around for a while and choking down as much junk as I could stomach, I willed myself into Johnson City and pulled into the first joint I saw, Dairy Queen.  As much as I wanted it, I had to force down the entire large chicken basket, fries, and toast.  I sat around for a bit, letting it digest, but my powers were not returning.  I didn’t know if they would or not.  I knew I had 50 more miles back to camp, though.  Still feeling weak and bonky, I saddled up and pedaled out of town, laboring with my head down as the promise of dusk settled in over the hill country. 

And then….magic.

It was the most amazing experience of my young endurance career.   It came out of nowhere, and it came at the exact moment when I needed it most.  Absolute magic.  Thus, I switch to dramatic third person mode, just to do it the justice it deserves:

As the sun settled in behind the hills, the lone rider struggled mightily against the forces arrayed against him.  Exhausted and out of sorts, he could but hang his head low as he toiled into the wind, sped along only by the vaporous whoosh of unending traffic that seemed to mock his crawling grind.  His thoughts turned to defeat and the nebulous of self loathing that such an ugly word lives in.  He’d made a critical blunder, and now, he wondered ashamedly if he would give up and hide his bed in the thickets, cursing himself until the light of the morn. 

But wait…what’s this?  The traffic…it has gone?  All was suddenly quiet, it seemed.  Had every vehicle in the hill country spontaneously vanished?  A peace was about him…a wonderfully silent peace.  As he mused on whether such a thing could be real, the rider heard birds….hark!  He had not heard them all day over the roar of humanity, and suddenly their cheerful voices had found his ear.  He raised his head up for the first time in what was surely an hour, and he saw the last rays of the sun kissing their feathers as they sailed lazily on the wind together.  On the wind….the wind!  It was upon his back!  It fought him no longer!  Great heavens, it was pushing him up the hill!  He yelped in amazement, and without notice, some inner reserve of strength was mobilized within him.  As his speedometer inched ever higher, he wondered if he should dare allow himself to get his hopes up.  Perhaps the tides were turning, or perhaps he was being setup by the cruel hand of some wicked Fate. 

A scent reached his nose…the smell of open air, untainted by smog and pollution.  The grass, the trees, the very hills were in the air.  The rider looked to his right as he gained the top of the climb, and beheld the most beautiful vista he had laid eyes on in lo these many miles.  A vast expanse of unspoiled hills stretched across the horizon, and they were GLOWING.  It was as if the sun had retired for the night within the very hills themselves, for they exuded a subtle, fiery, yellowish aura.  High overhead, the first stars of the evening sparkled down upon the scene.  It was the setting of a fairy tale come to life.

The rider longed to stop and gaze at the majesty laid before him, for this was surely his greatest moment.  Before he could ponder over it, he looked forward, and could not help but to overwhelm himself with sweet, sweet emotion.  It was a descent.  A long, long, long descent, the end of which was but a dream lost in the shadows of darkness some miles away.  

It was too much for him.  The rider laughed, cried, and yelled all at once.  He flicked on his headlamp and let the wind dry his tears as he coasted effortlessly on the widest shoulder he’d seen all day, and still no hint of another soul in any direction.  He plunged into the cool night air, grinning in unquestioning gratitude at this utterly magical weaving of events, and just when he thought his mood couldn’t possibly get any better, he spied a lone piece of debris, the first he’d seen all day.

A toilet seat. 

At his sight, he bellowed into the world, unleashing his newfound mirth as he imagined a number of circumstances that may have seen someone hauling a toilet seat in their car, and then making a conscience decision to hurl it into the hills.  He laughed and laughed, and all was right in his world.

I rode that enchanting wave of fortune all the way back to camp.  I rolled in at 11:13 PM, having completed 120 miles, my farthest ever in one day.  Even with the bonk, my actual saddle time was only 10 hours, which I am very happy with.  I swallowed a Fosters, threw down the bivy, and had a great night of sleep.  I opted not to ride again the next day, which upset me, but the traffic was just way too stressful, and I did not want to deal with it again.  Besides, there is no way that kind of magic would happen again.  I will take it with me, and I will never forget it.   Nor will I forget my very important lesson about fueling! 

Next up, Pat and I are doing the Texas Chainring Massacre on 3/21!  It’s a 116 mile self supported dirt road race near Dallas.  Because it’s being held on a Sunday, there are only like 15 guys signed up.  So guess what…I am going balls out to try to win it!  Check back soon to find out how I did!  And here are all the pics from my hill country ride:

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TD Training Entry #13: Gettin’ Down to Business

You may think I’ve been cold hard slackin’ on the ol’ training blog lately, and you’d be right, but I’m going to ask for mercy from my jillions of readers universe-wide (seriously, Pat, does anyone read this blog besides you?)  and let you know that there are a multitude of very good reasons for the aforementioned slackage.  For starters, feast your eyes on the image to the left.  That’s me on my first 100+ mile multi-day ride, featuring fully loaded TD kit, out in Huntsville, TX last weekend.  Joining me as always was my friend and training partner, Pat Smith, seen in the second picture at mile 75 on Saturday.  Layin’ around on the job again, Pat, good lord!  Ha!  Pat’s previous best had been 54 miles out at the Red River Riot (more about that soon), so this 100 miles was a torturous, ass-dragging, and ultimately triumphant affair for him. 

 My previous best had been 85 miles on the weekend before, and for the first time in my training, I felt strong from beginning to end, even with the non-stop climbing and the extra weight of all the gear.  I suppose it helped that we were fueling like kings on a mock TD diet of M&M’s, Skittles, Pop Tarts, Fritos, pizza, chocolate milk, and so forth.  ‘Tis the Food of the Gods, of whom we were loyal subjects that day.  Pat took off the next morning, so I mounted up in full rain gear and braved the storms for another half a day before making the 2 hour drive home.  And may I say right now how much it sucks having to get in your truck after churning out miles like that and just SIT there for 2 hours while your body gets stiff and sore?  Yes, I believe I may.  IT SUCKS.  Such is my fate, however, if I am to escape the flatlands of Houston and get some meaningful miles in. 

It was a great test for me as I inch my way torwards legitimate TD competitor, and I was thrilled to have accomplished what I did and come home smelling like roses.  Roses dipped in shitbaskets.  And we had some very memorable adventures to boot, like when our route, which had been mapped somewhat haphazardly on MapMyRide.com, lead us down a dirt road straight into someone’s house, instead of, well, THROUGH like it should have.  A pack of mangy muts came barreling at us, which we have become accustomed to, and as we turned around and booked it out of there, the dogs gradually fell away one by one, except for the friggin’ Carl Lewis of dogs, who barked at me incessantly while staying right on my back tire for well over a mile.  I tell you I was in high gear nailin’ it down this road and the freakin’ Ayatollah of All Endurance Dogs never faltered or fell behind.  So I hocked a few loogies on his head, and I swear his fur just absorbed them like the T-1000 absorbed bullets in Terminator II.  So I sprayed my hand sanitizer in his face, which as least shut his yap for about three seconds.  But the son of a gun kept on bullying me, so I tossed a bag of Sharkies at him, which I hate anyway.  He glanced at them as they hit the ground (I guess he hates them too) and continued his tirade against me.  Just as I resigned myself to the fact that the little bastard was just going to have to come home with me, he abruptly ended his protest and allowed me to catch my breath enough to cuss out Pat for routing us right into Fred Sanford’s front door.   Ha, kidding, I actually enjoyed the experience.  Just another good story to tell.  It was also pretty cool when we ducked into “Porky’s Icehouse” for some burgers and fries and the Harley guys stood around checkin’ out our rigs.   

So that’s me in my bivy sack in a light rain.  Not sure that I ultimately want to go with the setup you see here or not.  My down bag, though, warm and lightweight, is kind of a pain in the ass.  I don’t know….further experimentation is required.  The whole gallery is below, followed by more updates:

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Two weeks ago, I had a great solo adventure out in Brehnam, TX, where I cranked out 85 miles, some of it on the ACA’s Southern Tier route across America.  That was pretty sweet ridin’.  Lots of climbing, lots of lonely dirt roads, and many great country folks pulling over to offer me help as I rested on the side of the road, inventing magic tricks involving my mouth and Twizzlers.  I graciously declined, and mentally compared these very nice people to the carbon based organisms that I encounter while riding in the Houston area.  “Get out of the road, fa**ot!”  Ah, Houston. 

So on January 23rd, Pat and I raced (kinda) in the Red River Riot, a 116 mile endurance ride in Saint Jo, Tx.  What a blast!  It was our first experience in a race type atmosphere, even though it was technically a “ride,” not a race.  Good thing too, because one minute after the ride officially started, it began raining.  The course was almost entirely lonely dirt roads, so the mudfest started pretty quick.  The 132 or so riders trudged through the slop, which featured tons of climbing in a surprisingly beautiful landscape (I’d never known that the area just west of Dallas was marked by scenic, rolling hills) .  By the time people were pulling in at midstage, the course was just mud soup, and all but 16 riders called it quits.  Pat and I were among the quitters at 54 miles.  Quite frankly, with little experience, no cell reception, and no maps or GPS to guide me, I was not too anxious to attempt the second leg!  But we met some great people and had a fantastic time, and we are already signed up for our next race, The Texas Chainring Massacre on March 21st!  First though, we’re headed out to the Texas hill country west of Austin for our second full-on TD simualtion.  Two days, 200 miles.  Check back soon for that one, and I’ll leave you with a few more pic from the Red River Riot.  Thanks for reading!

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TD Training Entry #12: This Decade Demands a Century

A new decade is upon on us, friend!  (don’t spoil my fun by telling me that technically the new decade starts in 2011)  Today marks the beginning of a new era!  Flush your failures down the Toilet of Yesteryear, for you have just been handed an empty slate and a new lease on Life!  What, pray tell, will you do with them?  (pssst…flush one more time…it didn’t all go down)

Hopefully you will be embarking upon the greatest adventure of your life, whatever that might be.  For me, it’s the 2010 Tour Divide, and I can scarcely believe that the start is now less than six months away.  I’ve spent a full year transforming myself into some parodic semblance of an endurance rider, sacrificing time, money, comfort, and the perception of sound mental capacities in order to pursue the opportunity to torture myself for weeks on end. 

Towards that goal, and to herald the start of a new decade, it’s time for me to kick it up a notch and test my hard-earned mountain biking superpowers in my first ever endurance event.  On Januray 23^rd, my buddy Pat and I will ride in the first annual Red River Riot, a self-supported, 100 mile endurance challenge in Saint Jo, Tx.  They call it a “challenge” rather than a race, because there will be no prizes given.  Therefore, if I win, I will create my own reward, which will be to stand at the finish line and yell, “Yeah!  I BEAT you!” to other riders as they finish.

Kidding of course.  I am no such a-hole and I don’t expect to finish anywhere near first.  I expect only to have a great time, meet some cool people, and gain some self supported “racing” experience.  Here’s an excerpt about the Riot from the registration web site:

The course will be a unique combination of singletrack, dirt roads, gravel roads, Jeep roads and as little actual pavement as we need to tie it all together for well over 100 miles of off road greatness for the strongest of the strong.

Hey, sounds pretty TD-like to me!  In fact, I have noticed that TD ‘09 alum and fellow Texan Ray Porter is signed up for the men’s singlespeed category.  I hope we can track him down and coax some words of wisdom out of him. 

Also, I invited another Texan and TD ‘09 alum to join us: the superhuman Cadet Bryant, who recently raced on foot against HORSES…and beat some of them!  This guy eats 100 mile runs for breakfast! 

Speaking of Cadet, I want to give long overdue props to him and another TD ’09 alum, Eric Bruntjen.  Both of these guys have been ultracool mentors to me and Pat in our preparations for the 2010 Tour Divide.  They have given their excellent advice freely and generously, and it has proven invaluable in our training, gear choices, and even our travel plans.  Eric finished in ’09 with a very impressive time of 21:12:00, and was able to ease my considerable fears about the Great Basin.  Cadet had to pull out in Eureka due to a blown knee, but this year he is coming back to take his vengeance!  Keep on rockin’, Eric and Cadet!

After Pat and I cut our teeth the Red River Riot, I believe we will focus on conjuring up our own personal multi-day bikepacking events.  Our (highly irritating) problem is that we can’t take a lick of vacation time from work, as we are having to reserve every hour of vacation pay for the TD.  So we can’t really travel to cool events like the Arizona Trail 300, which I would absolutely love to do.  Instead, we’ll need to identify a 200+ mile route somewhere in the Texas Hill Country, drive up there on a Friday night after work, ride 16 hours Saturday, throw down the bivies, ride 16 hours Sunday, then drive home late Sunday night and go to work the next day.  Ouch.  Not ideal, but it will help us to get a feel for what a couple days on the TD will be like, and it will let us test out our obsessively researched gear choices.

Did you say gear?  Because I got a smackload of it last month, thanks to my supportive family and a healthy Christmas bonus.  For my birthday, I got my REI bivy sack and my Pearl Izumi X-Alps.  Haven’t had a good chance to test the bivy out yet, but I’ve been breaking in the Alps and I love ‘em.  Then, for Christmas, I got my Showers Pass rain gear, my Wingnut backpack, a new Black Diamond headlamp, and Dakota Fanning.  Oh, sorry, I mean my Garmin Dakota 20 GPS.  I nicknamed it Dakota Fanning because its small, lightweight, intelligent, responsive, irritating in a couple small ways, and it tells people precisely where to go. 

Out of all my new gear, I have been most enamored by Dakota Fanning.  I’ve never owned a handheld GPS before, and after exhaustive research and reading Scott Morris’ recommendation, I decided on the Dakota, and I have been most pleased.  It’s a cinch to operate, perfect for noobsters like me. I’ve been playing around with all the settings and fiddling with custom maps (gpsfiledepot.com is rockin), and I’ve even done some geocaching in my area.  I’m totally lovin’ this thing, and I’m dying to put it to the test in the wilds. 

I’ll leave you with a few crappy cell phone pics rom my ride at Huntsville State Park yesterday.  Hope you’ve had a great holiday season with family and friends, and I wish you well in the new decade!  Now get back to work. 

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