One

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting and riding around on what was a perfectly awesome geared bike (which I hated) my new Rig is finally here and I am one stoked camper. No racing this weekend and I didn't end up heading to VT to ride the gaps with Whittingham
so plan B was to ride my new bike as much as possible. Couldn't work it out saturday so I put all my chips down on sunday, all in, I don't play poker so I really have no idea what I'm talking about here.

The Rig in it's just slightly altered from stock state. Threw on a Race X Lite stem and bar, the wheels from my 07 Rig with Bontrager Jones ACX's set up tubeless, weighs in at 24.7 Lbs, with a few more upgrades I should have it a wee bit lighter soon enough.

Sunday AM, woke up at 11:30, didn't know I could still sleep in like a hungover teenager, but I pulled it off (thanks to Miriam for the Tequila shots, ow). Drank a few buckets of coffee while throwing the disc brakes on Miriam's recently converted to single speed Stumpjumper and we were out the door. Six minutes later we were on the trails, it was a wet "morning" but the rain was holding off for a bit. The roots were slick and the moss covered rocks were bright green and as beautiful and deadly as a great white shark (if it got plastic surgery to look more like Rosario Dawson).

We played around for a couple hours, at one point we ran into an all star crew of riders including local pro Sara Bresnick-Zocchi, Michael Zocchi, and MTB Mind's Rich Blair, good to see some other folks out there. Then I got a call from my neighbor, IF racer guy Greg The Leg, I made a plan to meet him back at the house in half an hour. I called another fast mountain bike riding neighbor Colin Reuter and roped him into the ride as well.

Actually a shot from the sunnier Thursday AM ride. McQueen muscling his Rig up part of the NEMBA MTB loop.

I hadn't eaten anything before the first ride of the day, the plan was to have a big brunch and the time to digest it before the sequel later in the day, but no dice. Before Greg and Colin showed up I scarfed a piece of toast with a pound of jam on it and downed yet another cup of coffee. By the end of the 2.5 hour second ride my body was devouring itself. We went out and did some the best technical stuff in The Fells, heading all the way up to the northern tip and back down again. Technical issues were rampant. Colin front flatted, didn't have a tube, and as I stood there explaining to him how he would have to kind of knot my 29" tube into his 26" tire I realized that I had, in fact brought a 26" tube. Sheer brilliance.

So we were at the top of the Fells with no tubes and more pointy rocks in-between us and home than you can swing a cat at.
Greg's rear tire was leaking but with frequent stops to air it up he was alright. Then I went to hop a log, my foot unclipped, my glasses flew off my helmet, and I came down all cock-eyed, catastrophically burping my tire. Luckily the seal held and I was able to fill it up and ride on. Greg also had the seal plate on his White freewheel back off causing the body of the freewheel to jam between the hub and the frame, bizarre. I was able to pull it apart (dropping the pawls in the dirt and finding them in the process) and get it going again. Lastly Greg developed a gash in the sidewall of his old Hutchinson tire which became a not so slow leak.

We all hobbled home under our own power and I subsequently ate enough take out Chinese food to feed a family in the Gansu province for a week.

My first impression of the new Rig is 100% positive. Why I like it so much more than it's geared, identical counterpart The Paragon is unquantifiable for the most part. It's quiet, the freehub is silent, pushing the same gear as I would on a geared drivetrain feels easier and better. It's stiff as all hell but with the large contact patch of the 29" tires coupled with the suppleness of running tubeless at sub 30 psi makes for a smooth ride. I would sit here and try to convey how psyched I am on the new ride in type but I'd rather go get some sleep and dream about riding in the woods again.

Root 66 Fat Tire Classic

This was a race I’d done once before, and honestly, I wasn’t really looking forward to doing it again. The Chainbiter ‘Cross race at the same venue last fall was more technical than the mountain bike course from what I remembered . The delivery of my single speed was delayed yet again and for this race, I wasn’t sweating it. A 95% semi-flat fire road hammer-fest is not a single speedin’ good time. However the course was totally redesigned with way more fun added to the formula this year. There was actually singletrack and some punchy climbs to break up the big ring gnashing, overall very nice. I liked the course so much I rode it a total of nearly seven times with warm up and cool down.
On with it already…So I swing over to Colin and Linnea’s to pick them up, Alex rolls up having ridden over from Newton with a twenty pound rucksack full of gear, a wonky as all get out rear wheel, and the most freaking amazing cupcakes I have ever experienced. I’m not kidding, they were of two varieties: Mojito, complete with a mint leaf on top, and “Car Bomb” with Guiness and Bailey’s amongst the ingredients (mmm Bailey’s…creamy…beige). I couldn’t wait to finish my race so I could stuff my face with them things. We now have the wrangling of four bikes onto the roof of the wee Subaru down to a science, so we were on the road in no time flat, with me nearly missing the first of the three turns I had to make to get us there. I like to get some of my requisite acts of awesomeness over with early in the day.
Alex was doing the sport race so we were there with ample time to spare for once, so much time that we didn’t really know what to do with ourselves. Linnea, Colin, and I got out on course pre-ride and heckle/cheer the sport riders, and give Alex and George some support. I don’t usually get to spectate so it was cool watching guys in running shoes and jeans riding HardRocks whupping up on guys with shaved legs riding S-Works FSRs and Carbon Orbeas.

Sport rider trying to pedal his chain back on. He had a good attitude, he was talking to his bike like a Cowboy talking to an errant calf.

Got a good semi-hot lap in just before the start and hit the line feeling relaxed. George was there with his boys to see me off, his son Lazlo rocking his freshly won silver medal, ya dude! The sun came out just before the whistle and I began shucking layers, wishing I had time to ditch my undershirt, I didn’t so I laid my Dunkin’ Donuts coffee cup down and tried to follow the leaders off the line to the uphill hole-shot through a deceptively loose corner into the singeltrack. It was mayhem, I had no idea where I was when I fell in line behind John Foley and Sean Cavanaugh. I guess I made some passes in there, but I was clueless as to how many dudes were ahead of us. After a lap at “Jesus Christ I am gonna to frickin’ die” pace, a selection was made and it was me, Foley, and Cavanaugh for the rest of the race. Sean was on his Single Speed 29er with a 36 X 18 gear, a true “two to one” on the 29, not that translated from 26” B.S., i.e. a big god damn gear, big enough not just to hang on this high speed course, but big enough to instigate and punish the geared riders. I’d open a gap on him just to have him blaze by me on the slightest incline like he was unaffected by the Earth’s gravitational pull and I was in a deep sea diving suit at the bottom of an undersea canyon.

I don't remember this part of the race at all, but it looks like fun

We could see Andrew Freye hovering out of reach maybe fifteen seconds ahead and I knew Verge 2/3 ‘Cross phenom John Peterson was up ahead somewhere so second lap I drilled it, trying to ride away from John and Sean and close the gap to Freye. I basically cooked myself doing so and third lap it was Foley’s turn to man the whip. The guy is aggro, just a vicious rider, he gets the pace high then jumps on every hill…brutal. At one point Sean said “Does he know we’re doing another lap after this?”. Fourth lap Sean was the punisher, his Single speed pace off-putting for the geared guys. He was leading so we’d sit in, but he wasn’t pushing on the flats, he was recovering, just spinning away, then we’d hit an uphill and wham! He would fly up that thing like a cat clawing it’s way up your face as you try to throw it in a lake (personal experience, I was four, four year olds do that type of thing) . Man, I ride a single speed (dur), and I have no idea how Sean was going so damn fast on that thing. I’m afraid to go one gear on one gear with him, he’s looking pretty monstrous this season. He’s also really good at making noises behind you that make it sound like he’s going into a death roll when he’s really just getting ready to smack you with a 2 X 4 to the forehead type attack.
After sitting in fourth lap, I was ready to make my last ditch attack on my companions. This I implemented just past the start finish and managed not to wash out on the wood-chippy corner at the top. I got a gap and tacked a little bit onto it through the first part of the course. I could still see both those guys back there, the elastic was firmly in place, it was stretched, but showed no sign of snapping. My pace was ‘Cross pace, the laps were taking twenty minutes. I figured I can do anything for fifteen minutes so it was just really, really going to suck for the last five minutes.
I was pushing the biggest gear I possibly could, big ring, third cog from the bottom, not sure what that is…44 X 15? Never had any reason to check, not cogs I use a lot. Somehow, Sean was not disappearing into the distance, he was still breathing down my neck. There was just enough air between us to relax going into the finish, glad there was because Sean could easily have snapped that 19.5 Lb. Bike up the final incline at the finish before I could say “Why the hell did I have a bowl of ice cream, brownies and half a Boston Cream donut for desert last night?” then barf all over my top tube.
After I crossed the line I put it in a wee little gear and spun out on the course for a cool down lap. When I got back and checked the results I was shocked to see I had again landed in third place. Huh? Ahead of me were Peterson and Freye who had overtaken him to finish on top of the podium. Technically that puts me in the series leader’s jersey but I didn’t know that and I guess neither did the officials, we’ll see how long I can hold onto to that virtual thing anyway.

Not used to being on the podium, here I experiment with really cool facial expressions

It was a good day for the IBC MTB posse with Linnea finishing second in Expert 12-34 and maintaining a healthy series lead. Colin finishing fifth in Expert 19-29 after riding a 120 mile Brevet the day prior. Alex finishing 3rd in Sport 19-29 despite the fact that the longest ride she’s done this season happened to be riding over to meet us that morning (and she showed up to the race with a tacoed rear wheel and a missing brake pad).
And George Shaw finishing 23rd in a big ol’ Sport 30-39 field.
No racing next week, heading up to Waitsfield, VT to ride some gaps with Jeff Whittingham and Greg The Leg, can’t hardly wait.

I decided last minute not to run this saddle. Alex's idea of saving weight. Isn't there a law against peeing on National Icons? Cupcakes!

Danish Pastry House Rides

Thursday AM, 8:15 O' clock at The Above-mentioned Danish Pastry House at 330 Boston Ave. at the corner of Winthrop St. in Medford with an 8:30 stop at the Governor's Ave./South Border Rd. entrance to The Fells. Duration is about two hours at a gentlemanly brisk pace, not so much a hammer ride as a speed skills ride. This'll be going on every week, rain or shine unless otherwise stated. It is officially a NEMBA ride but anyone who wants to get a good workout, work on their MTB skills, or wants to get into Mountain Bike racing is more than welcome to show up.

It's very similar to Lichen, in fact, I'd liken it to Lichen.

Actual singletrack.

2 Dumb 4 Gears

It's true, I can't ride a geared bike like a normal person anymore. I used to think Skip Brown was a crazy man for riding a geared bike like he does, i.e. riding in the big chainring at an extremely low cadence, standing on the hills, and never spinning over 60 RPMs. You'd see him riding up a hill at The Wilderness 101 and think he was a single speeder, because why on earth would someone with the option of switching into a smaller gear be grinding away like that, wrestling their bike up the climb? I guess because it works...if you primarily ride a single speed that is.

Yesterday was The Root 66 Winsted Woods race in Connecticut. I rolled down there with IBC teammates George, Linnea, and Colin. It was another gorgeous day, a little cooler, but I'd take it, last week's 75° felt more like 95° comparative to the temperatures we've been having. The night prior I'd pulled a typical bonehead move by having people over to watch some stupid thing which cannot be named, had a few beers, and stayed up until 1:30 in the AM. As a result my mental alertness was somewhat lacking on sunday morning. This was demonstrated in terrifying fashion when we went to pick up George in Brookline and I began to pull away from the curb before he'd gotten in the car. That woke me up and with Colin's Blackberry aided navigational skills we arrived in Winsted otherwise incident free.
Got out on course for a little bit, decided to up the pressure in the rear tire since I'm running tubes at the moment. The singletrack was rooty, and twisty and there were a few steep, loose climbs, which low pressure would have been ideal for, but there were also high speed, baby-head-strewn descents, and big pointy slabs of rock jutting out of the ground. I like running tubes about as much as I like riding a geared bike. It's PZF: Partial Zero Fun. The pressure you have to run not to pinch flat causes the ride to be brutally abusive to your back. However the tires specced on the Paragon are nice, the Jones ACX's hook up real well in the loose stuff.
So last week I got over-excited and went out way too hard because for once I could. Normally I'd be sitting in the back, waiting for the first hill or singletrack section to bite so I could move up a few spots. My tactic was to go with someone that would ride more my speed throughout the race, that would be Andrew Freye. He wasn't too far ahead of me at Hopbrook, so my logic was that without performing an act of awesomeness similar to last week where I used the one match I had to light the rest of the book on fire (which I then threw in the back of the pick up truck, next to the propane tank, and then...and then...you get the point) in the first ten minutes of the race I should, I say should be able to stay with him. A different Andrew Freye showed up to Winsted, this version took off from the gun, looking pretty scary, and was out of my sight before I knew it. So much for the best laid plans of mice and morons.
Plan B...I guess plan B was to get shot to the back, then ride around in no man's land, breathing too hard in a little gear, bouncing off every root and rock in sight, and cursing quietly too myself. I came up with that one on the spot, I'm quick on my feet y'know. Seamus Powell, a sick Junior Expert was behind me though, not a good sign for me, just a bad sign for him, he came by me, I picked up the pace a little and passed an also atypically geared Paul Simoes. Ahead the group was getting strung out and I was loosing ground.
There were two single-speeders ahead of me, Mike Montalbano and Sean Cavanaugh. They were kicking my ass and I wasn't sure what the psychological implications of getting beat by SSers while on a geared bike would be. I didn't want to find out, but I didn't seem to be gaining ground on them either. I was falling back into my old mindset of "oh, I must be going faster than the single speed guy through this section, he must be going so much slower with that puny gear". Wrong, wrong, wrong! On the SS you accelerate in and out of sections faster, then just carry your speed while recovering on the downs, not to mention the fact that they were probably killing the climbs on their 20Lb. rigid bikes. Stupid bunny.
Eventually I passed a sidelined with a broken chain Freye, I was certain I would see him again. I started getting glimpses of Alec Donahue, who absolutely destroyed the Expert field (he would have beaten all but a couple of the Pro field as well and I think he flatted) in his first foray into mountain bike racing last week because they wouldn't let the pro roadie, Elite 'Cross race winning bloke race the pro class. I calculated that he was about a minute ahead, not on pace with last week's ride. "He probably raced Battenkill yesterday" I thought to myself. This was true, that and he may have been having mechanical issues, he did end up ultimately DNFing.
After three laps of trying to work out this geared thing, I decided to bag it and ride like an idiot, more like myself. This meant putting it in the big ring and using no gear smaller than my 26t in the rear (third cog down from the top). I was amazed how much better this worked up the first climb, on the lap prior I had bobbled right next to a pre-riding Rich Blair while trying to spin up it in some silly little gear. This method caused me to move a little faster, I saw Foley ahead but I had a resurgent Freye closing from the rear. When Freye came by I dug in and held on for dear life as we came by John. We were railing down the baby-head-strewn descent, I could see Sean and Mike, the two single-speeders ahead. They were likely hating life on this section with their rigid forks, I know I would have been. Just as we passed those guys, Freye's drivetrain completely exploded, his one remaining chainring bolt letting go. That was it for him unfortunately.
The course had a nice rhythm to it, all the climbs were followed by downhills which provided ample recovery time. With this in my mind I absolutely flagellated myself up the two climbs in the middle of the course, trying to ditch a stubborn Sean Cavanaugh, again falling into that silly "I can drop the single-speeder" mindset. If it's a real mountain bike race and the SSer is geared correctly he is going to be incredibly hard to drop. Toward the end of the lap, I could see a Bikeman rider ahead, Arthur Degraw. He was on a full suspension bike, gliding through the roughness while I clanked up behind him. I sat in recovering for a bit when I finally did get on his wheel, then attacked up a small rise just before the second to last major climb, standing in the 44 X 20. These were not the legs I had before an entire winter of relentless fixed gear training.
I drilled it up the last climb up to the field, knowing that this was it, and if I was clear at the top that I was home free on the descent to finish. As I crested the hill there was no one in sight so I just had some fun on the way down, hopping logs and rocks, ripping through the last couple berms, and rolling across the line with a lapped Expert rider beating me in the sprint.
Through attrition, mechanicals, and some luck on my part, I ended up in the third podium spot
and second place in the series on points. I forgot to fit this in elsewhere but I gotta thank George for the bottle hand up, without it I would have been tapped three laps in. I was standing on the line with my two bottles when they announced that we were doing five laps, I figured it was going to be a hot, 2.5 hour race, I was going to shrivel up and die. So I called out to George "hey if you happen to be near the feed zone can you maybe hand me one of the bottles from the car?". The woman giving us pre-race instructions said "Oh no, you have to take everything with you, no outside help". A bit incredulous I said "Is that a new rule? No bottle hand-ups and you are now required to ride with a ferret down your shorts?". Someone quickly corrected her, although this exchange confused George and instead of handing me a bottle, he handed me a live Ferret from the car which had nearly no electrolytes in it, Ferrets are pretty much crap as race fuel.

Sorry, no photos, I had photographer's block, never even thought to bust out the camera.

Dover Wednesday Evening TT, or "You Want The Race of Truth? You Can't Handle The Race of Truth!"

The first wednesday of every one of the moderately tolerable months is the Dover Wednesday Evening Bicycle Time Trial. I've been doing this thing for a few years now, it's a sort of fitness check for me and a great mid-week workout. I prefer this course to the uber-popular Charlie Baker Concord TT. Think Nascar Vs. Formula One only with Charlie Baker you just have to turn right not left. Screaming through the rollers on Farm Rd. at 40mph is always a blast. It's free and the guys that put it on keep accurate results dating back to 1996, complete with temperature, wind activity, and your average speed, that's a pretty good deal.

I posted my second best time, hopefully as the season progresses I'll be able to knock myself off the podium a couple times. I don't do Aero-anything, it's not about setting the absolute best time, it's about learning to ride the bike I ride the most faster and getting faster on the mountain bike. I encourage anyone to come check this thing out , it's all about the fun and the suffering.

Lord I'm Blistered Oh, Yeah

First race of the season yesterday. Root 66 tried to trip me up by having an XC event on saturday, they never have the XC event on saturday! It's the middle of what we call "Super Sale" at the shop and I was pretty sure my request for Super Sale Saturday off with four days notice would be seen as an attempt at comedy. It wasn't, I got it off, so thanks to my Sponsor/Employer (IBC) for that. This is why I work at a bike shop and it's why I work at the shop I do.

The forecast was for 48° and rain, I packed for a miserable race and post race hypothermia.
We (Greg, Colin,Linnea, and myself) got to Middlebury, CT to find blue skies, 75°, and this weird yellow thing above us which burned our skin and made water come out of our pores. I'll have to look into what that thing is, I think it has something to do with science. The funny thing was we were all whining about how warm and nice it was. Folks had packed knickers, heavy gloves, undershirts, wool socks and hats, and embrocation, but not water bottles and sunscreen. It's like Jay-Z said, quoting Little Orphan Annie "It's a hard knock life for us". That song was almost as good as the one where Tupac sampled Bruce Hornsby...that guy is one big, dead, genius.

Didn't preride, just hit the road and spun a bit, got down to the start line with time to spare for a change. Lined up next to John Foley and Andrew Freye, chatted for a minute, and we were off. I don't know what I was thinking , maybe it was the gears, but I got up on second wheel going into the hole shot, following John into the woods. I decided my best bet was to just keep it in the big ring. I'm smart. I didn't start suffering a maximum until we hit the first substantial climb. I went deeply anaerobic, I haven't been training that hard yet and going anearobic and then staying there for as long as I did the first lap was not brilliant on my part. I think John and I lead for a few minutes, then guys started blowing by like I was riding a bicycle Rickshaw with two fat, red-faced German Tourists in it.


Damage control. So I stopped trying to spin up the climbs like all these crazy geared guys do and put the chain on the big ring and rode like a Skip Brown, or a weaker shadow of a Skip Brown, but I was in the big ring, mashing away and I seemed to be recovering and moving a little faster. At one point I passed by a cheering Kerry Combs and shouted "Gears suck!", and I meant it, I wasn't really into the whole gear thing. can't wait to get my new Fisher Rig SS. It's basically the same bike as the Paragon, which was what I was riding but without all the klanky, squeaky, jamming, clicking, annoying bits.

Long story shorter than usual...I finished, caught Foley, didn't catch anyone else, felt not too crappy in the end, got 6th out of 10 finishers. Definitely have some work to do if I'm going to try to hang with the big boys all season, but I think I'll be alright.
New IBC kids Colin (4th Expert 19-29), Linnea (1st Expert 12-34), and George (16th Sport 30-39), all did great, and it was cool having an IBC MTB posse out there. Watch out now!
Gotta go, the live updates from Paris Roubaix are much more interesting than anything I'm writing here.

Oh, the title of the post...Johnny Cash, refers to my hands. You can do all sorts of stuff to prepare yourself for mountain biking but you can't fake gripping the bars. My un-calloused hands are meat right now. Like I said, I've got work to do.

I'm Pretty!

Woo Hoo!

Got out on the trails yesterday, finally. Took the demo Paragon out, it's not my bike, but it'll do. A few factors came together to make it one special ride. First off it was nicest day we've had yet this year, by far. Secondly the bike was rocking, the new geometry is a huge improvement over last year's Fishers (and I liked last year's Fishers...what's better than pizza? More pizza!).
Thirdly and lastly, I found new (to me) trails which are sweet, real nice singletrack which begin just five minutes from my house. It used to take me a whole seven minutes to get to the trailhead, now I have two more minutes of dirt time. Finding these trails was like that dream
(I think everyone has this dream, this one and the one about missing the last step and getting that "I'm falling through space feeling") where you notice a door in your house you never knew was there and it opens into a huge room or another world or something entirely crazy. I couldn't believe I'd never realized these trails were there. Now if I could just bottle that amazing feeling of discovery, that giddiness...I could become a millionaire and go ride my bike full time.



The bike feels like a whip, you forget you're on a 29er. The front end snaps up over logs, it handles tight, twisty, turny stuff way better then it's ancestors. As is the bike weighs 26 Lbs, but with a couple upgrades it could be a sick race machine. It don't look too bad neither.

The detractors of the 29 thing talk about slow acceleration due to the increased rotational weight of the larger wheel. That argument only holds water if you're going slow. Throw the chain onto the big ring, get on top of that gear and nothing is going to slow you down enough to make you take notice of the weight of larger wheel. Rail into a corner at speed, let it all hang out and you'll realize the benefits of the larger contact patch damn quick. Woo-Hoo!

You ready for this? I'm going to be racing this bike (starting tomorrow) at the next couple Root 66 races. A geared bicycle, what? Not quite sure how I'm going to deal with it. Suppose I'll just have to go out there and have some fun and see what happens, oh darn.

Oooh, SuperflyYou're gonna make your fortune by and by But if you lose, don't ask no questions why The only game you know is "Do or Die"Ah-ha-ha

Totally breaking character here with the multiple posts per day but I had to share this:

http://twentynineinches.com/2008/04/02/superfly-single-speed/

My world has just been turned on it's head. Ever since we got a Fisher Superfly in at the shop I've been doing this dance around it, trying to figure out how I could possibly justify owning it. I would think "yes, I can use a Singleator, run it as a single speed" or "maybe I'll just race gears this year". Neither of those are serious options, using a tensioner is kind of anathema to me and I think switching back to gears at this point would just make me slow again. I had to thank Glenn Cook for buying the only Superfly we had in stock in my size, he removed a great deal of temptation by doing so. In turn I thank Fisher for only producing three of these SS Superflies

and removing this option from my grasp as well. For this season I will happily ride my Rig,

but next year...next year. Is a year up yet? How about now?

The Devil Makes work For Idle Legs

Hi two people reading this blog today. I'm not feeling well, I'm not riding my bike, so I'm thinking about riding my bike, and geeking out about riding my bike. I got on the Google Map Pedometer and mapped my hill route to work.

Hill Route:
http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=1767684

It could easily be made into a loop without much customization. It looks a wee bit confusing with all the back tracking business, I'll try to clarify for you...two people.

- So you start out at my house (not literally for the one of you two who may be slightly on the Autistic spectrum)
- Then you head out west on Boston Ave
- Left on 60/High St.
- Go straight through the first rotary
- Right at second rotary up Mystic
- Right at light onto 3/Mystic
- Veer left onto Hutchinson (Climb #1 about 5min.)
- Left at top down Forest
- Veer Right down Park Ave Extension
- Cross Mass Ave go up Park Ave. (Climb #2 About 3min.)
- Cross Rt. 2, immediate left after overpass down the "Access Road"
at the bottom I hop on the sidewalk on the left side to avoid having to deal with traffic and double back up the access road on the other side of Rt. 2 (Climb #3 about 5-6 Min back to top of water tower)
- Head back over Rt.2, this time heading down to the funky little rotary,
- second right out of rotary onto Prospect,
- then veer right onto Clifton
- Right onto 60 at light at bottom
- Right at light onto Concord (Climb #4 about 4 min.)
- Continue up Concord (Climb #5 1 min. power climb in here)
- Left on Spring/Smith St.
- Right on Trapelo (Climb #6 wee little power climb, maybe 45sec)
- Pass Cambridge Reservoir (Climb #7 2 min. grinder)
- Left on Winter, good spot for recovery here
- Follow Winter back to Reservoir, head down One way street the wrong way,
stay right on shoulder at first then switch to left side so traffic can see you...
not super sketchy really, this is a very quiet road.
- Go right into first office park, all the way to top and back down (Climb #8 about 2 min.)
- Right on Winter, Pass second office park driveway
- Right up third Office Park Driveway, stay right at stop sign, go to top and back down
(Climb #9 About 2min.)
(Here you can also just take a right on Second Ave. and go up Bear Hill Rd.)
- Right on Winter, cross 95 onto Totten Pond
- Right into Prospect Hill Park, up access road (Climb #10 this is the big boy 5-7 min. with 17% grades thrown in)

you can either go to the top or continue on over to the neighborhood on the other side.
If you're not commuting to IBC Newton I would just turn around and maybe hit the Bentley College Hill on the way home and call it a day.

While I was at it I mapped this gem.
(Almost) Non-Total-Shite Commute:
http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=1767706
It's a relatively not-crappy way to get from Somerville to Newton.
The only slightly tricky part is finding the dead end neighborhood to cut through off of 20,
it's probably easier to figure out in reverse. Oh, and that left off 60/Pleasant in Belmont...that's onto a footbridge over the train tracks, totally avoids the gnarliness of Belmont center.

Hope you find that helpful...two people.

-t

Doper

"Coming down with a stomach virus" isn't just a euphemism for being doped to gills and needing an out before testing...sometimes. I'm pretty sure that The WADA wasn't testing down at The EFTA King of Burlingame Time Trial in Rhode Island yesterday but I decided to play it safe anyway. The kid at the register down at the Starbucks near my work has decided that I don't get charged for extra shots in my coffee, then the guy manning (guying?) the Espresso machine invariably offers an additional shot "on the house". Because of this I am nearly positive that my caffeine levels are way off the charts, I would definitely fail doping controls. That's why I feigned a tummy ache saturday night to get out of racing sunday. It had nothing to do with riding myself into the ground last week, commuting in the rain, and not sleeping, amazing that a virus could infiltrate the veritable fortress of my body, amazing.
Hopbrook is next sunday, going to try to pull myself together for that. In the meantime read this report by new IBC Expert Mt. Biker Colin Reuter on this past weekend's race, sounds like he had a good ride.

Ready to Get Crazy? Let's Have Some Fun Today

- Bob Ross

Met up with a bunch of the IBC Master's team sunday for a little beatdown out toward Wachusett. Richard Barnwell knows some great roads with nasty little climbs which are at the moment covered in sand, ice, and snow. Haven't been doing much high cadence, small gear climbing so I was hurting pretty good. It was a beautiful day, so beautiful that when I got home and found that I had been relieved of my afternoon obligations that I got back on the bike and hit it for a couple more hours. I spent the last forty minutes bonked out, draped over my bars like a jellyfish on a pier, churning into a cold headwind, dreaming of the leftover Chinese food in the fridge. That was some mighty good Moo-Shi.


Wedneday was the IF Elite ride out of IBC. So far it's been a civil, friendly ride with the exception of Sam Silver and Adam Branfman's sprints. Those kids are in a different league. Someday my claim to fame will be (maybe it already is) that I beat Adam Branfman in a sprint. Sure it was a slightly uphill sprint...and it was in our 39 X 23's (Jon Bruno's idea, brutal task master) but I won. All I won was the privilege of being the first guy to spin 210 RPM's to the top where I gasped "That was frickin' horrible!".

We'll be doing that ride every wednesday night out of IBC Newton at 6PM, so come on by if you're looking to ride with some of the fastest most experienced road racers around...and me.

Let's Move to The Country

Above: Remnants of a weird-ass lost civilization.

Got out for an actual non-commute related road ride this past sunday on an actual non-single speed type bike...my new De Rosa "UD". Geared road, I say Road bikes are faster than non-geared road bikes. No one can argue that. They also don't beat down your "Bonchial Region" like riding a Zebra across the Serengeti bareback. Which a fixed gear ridden on New England roads does. It's a 900 gram frame but it's built up with borrowed parts and things I found lying around my basement. I used a washing machine belt instead of a chain, it's awesome. It weighs about 18Lbs. Oh, but that vintage medley of Ultegra 9 speed and Shimano 600 is so sweet. I'm a "9 Speeder".

Above: The UD in Dover Center.
A guy drove by in a BMW SUV and yelled "Hey Faggot, get some Record Ten Speed on that thing!".

Above: So much beauty in rust.

Knuckleheads

Just received the email below from Mark Dionne, one of the organizers of the great Wednesday night Dover Time Trial series . This is a road that I frequent as do many of my teammates. Motorists harassing and threatening recreational cyclists without provocation is unacceptable.
Yes I have regular incidents involving crackhead drivers, but I am out commuting through congested areas at rush hour every day, one might say I'm asking for it. People out spinning around Dover are not asking for it, they should be able to have a peaceful, incident free ride. It will be a fine day when the law recognizes any threatening behavior by a driver as assault with a deadly weapon on par with brandishing a gun. I'd use a baseball bat analogy but a bat comes up far short of a two ton hunk of steel traveling at forty miles per hour when it comes to lethality.

This also relates to Andy's recent post about a misguided (cough-Understatement-cough!) motorist.

Without further digression, here's Mark's email:

Last June I had an incident with a problem driver on Pine Street in Dover, which is on the Saturday Fitness loop. At the time, I reported it to the Dover Police and told a few people. I just learned of an almost identical incident that happened yesterday with the same car, and I think it's worth warning people about this guy.

Here's my incident:

I was traveling down Pine Street in Dover, heading toward Centre Street on my bicycle. I was going down the hill in the vicinity of Forest St., about 1/4 mile from Centre St. Since I was going down a hill, I was traveling about 25 MPH.

A late model red Jeep (Mass plate "T----P") suddenly pulled in front of me from a driveway on the left, forcing me to brake hard to avoid hitting the vehicle. I hollered out "Hey" loudly to warn the driver, a middle aged man. I saw the driver look in the rear-view mirror, and then he hit his brakes hard, apparently to cause me to collide with the back of his Jeep. I avoided a collision by steering to the left of the Jeep.

From beside the Jeep, I said to the driver "Are you trying to kill me?". The driver responded, "Yes, I'm tired of you homos. You'd better keep off this street." The driver then proceeded very slowly, as if to provoke me to pass him, but I felt threatened by his behavior and I stayed away from him. As far as I know, I never saw this person before that day. I have seen the Jeep in the same driveway many times since then. There is no number on the mailbox.

Yesterday this same person tried to hit a rider with his car in the same vicinity, and the rider is reporting him to the Registry. I am also contacting the Registry. Has anyone else encountered this guy?

Dig Like A Naked Mole Rat

Above photos:
Sunset on Quinobeguin Road - I Hate March, luckily I got to drive on this day - Dork - Hemlock Gorge.

Weird thoughts go through my brain when I'm riding sometimes. Been working on seated climbing. Most Bicycling Magazine get fit quick articles will tell you to to "pedal from the hips".
In my vernacular this has become "You can do it put your back in to it - I can do it put your ass into it", these are Ice Cube Lyrics, I find them immensely helpful. "Pedal from the hips" does not accurately describe how to engage the muscle group you are trying to engage on a low cadence climbing effort. You want to pedal from the "gluteus Maximus", i.e. your "ass". Ice Cube is a genius.


Above Photos:
Bear Hill Road Waltham

Another thing I say to myself when I'm climbing or really anytime I'm trying to maximize my pedal stroke efficiency is "Dig like a Naked Mole Rat".

Naked Mole Rats wallow on the floors of their communal bathrooms as a way of imbuing themselves with a scent unique to their colony, but that's not important right now. What is important is that Naked Mole Rats can also burrow through concrete...bad ass. I'm just trying to burrow my way up the water tower hill next to Rt. 2 in Arlington. Sure, you can "throw your knee over the bar", "scrape mud (or poo) off your shoe"...whatever works for you. I like visualizing my feet clawing into the dirt/asphalt, scooping down with force and fluidly coming up and around (sometimes I think about a swimmers stroke here as well) to do it again. I also think about "keeping it all positive" as in all positive engagement throughout the pedal stroke.


Above Photos:
Late sunday afternoon, coming back through Concord

While I'm sharing all these incredibly useful and sane bits of information I might as well share my new diet. Not so much diet as feeding schedule. It developed from doing them there 100 milers. I realized that I ate more during a work day than I did during an eight or nine hour bike race, that's just silly. I hate silliness.


So now I eat in small increments throughout the day, having a snack every couple hours, with the largest single meal being a PB & J, sometimes eaten in sections. I commute by bike both ways to work and have a slightly physically demanding job and this "program" has made me more productive and energetic in general. I do drink way more coffee than I would during a 100 miler but as David Letterman once said "if it weren't for the coffee, I'd have no identifiable personality whatsoever".

What I am Babbling About...Today

Chocolate milk saved my life. I read a Velonews article a couple years back it wasn't
This Velonews Article but the one I read is mentioned in the linked article. It talks about a study where they basically found that Chocolate milk is as good or better than most recovery drinks on the market. That and as an added bonus you don't gag when you try to drink it.
This is the type of thing you read and then immediately close the subject for debate. I don't care if studies have come out since debunking the whole thing, chocolate milk works for me and that's all I need to know, la, la, la, I'm not listening, the end.
My philosophy is to avoid high-tech sports foods in general until it is absolutely necessary to consume them...that would be raceday. The rest of the time I say stick to peanut butter filled chocolate covered pretzels, Peanut butter and jelly, bananas, cookies, potato chips...anything but some futuristic glop that looks and tastes like something a bird regurgitated in brick form. Now I'm just waiting for the study that proves that pizza, beer, and coffee are essential elements in an athlete's diet. Carmichael advocates the "Caveman Diet". I'm waiting for the "My Dad Diet".

The First Days of Dogtown

So ya, I was just riding through Dogtown up in Gloucester sunday and this rock jumped out in front of me and I was all like "what the F- rock? I am gonna drag you out of the ground and beat you, AAAH!". Oh wait I was mountain biking and nothing that happened spurred anything like commuter rage. It was 100% pure fun with no badness whatsoever...that's mountain biking for ya.

The above photo...Brad going all "Now way Hans Rey". Andy flirting with disaster. Jeff expressing the overwhelming sentiment of the day.

Let them eat rocks/Cold Feet/Air Jeff

Cliche shot/Hike-a-bike/Island Hopping

It was the first MTB ride of the season for me. Borrowed Andy's Igleheart 29 SS.

Can't believe Andy let me borrow his baby, but it was much appreciated, such a nice ride.
This ride made me come to the re-realization that I really like mountain biking. It makes me as happy as a four year old hopped up on pixie sticks and Dr. Pepper doing somersaults in a bouncy castle.

Bouncy Bouncy
Oh such a good time
Bouncy Bouncy
Shoes all in a line
Bouncy Bouncy
Everybody
somersault,
somersault

-The Mighty Boosh "Bouncy Bouncy"
(thanks Todd)

A Cyclingnews article I read recently got me to thinking about training to race single speed mountain bikes exclusively. It had this to say (among other things):

Critics dismiss the application of a fixed-gear trainer to improvement of road bike technique as analogous to practicing on an ostrich as preparation for riding a racehorse. Ideological opponents of the fixie advocate a purist approach. To get good at riding a road bike, ride it.

I don't necessarily agree with the above statement but there may be something to it. Why would I ride a racehorse in preparation for riding an ostrich (or a Magical Unicorn as the case may be)? At one point I asked a highly regarded Cycling coach about "special needs" of single speeders. He told me that he'd put a SSer on basically the same program as any other mountain biker, the only alteration would be to the cadence and force workouts were done at.
Of course I have only had the option of riding my Fixed Gear (not to be confused with sweet fixie) for months now. Maybe I am just trying to kid myself that I am doing the right thing by spinning and grinding my way around the suburbs of Boston day after day. I won't know the answer until I hit the first couple races. The joke will either be on me or the kids sitting indoors, chasing their tails, watching their power meters.
After a month or so of riding the same gear I decided to mix it up, got myself a Surly "Dingle Cog". It's a 17/19t. This way I can do my force and muscular endurance stuff in the 44 X 17t then throw it up on the 19t and either recover on a short ride or go do hills and get a good aerobic workout. Spinning the 44 X 19 at 22 mph (120 RPMs) will make you suck some wind for sure as well.
The Ultrafit article I linked to a while back illustrated the huge discrepancy in power output between geared on non-geared riders at various cadences. So why shouldn't you try to emulate the requirements of riding an SS MTB as much as possible in training? Sure you can try to fake it...do big gear hill climbs on your road bike, then try to force yourself to spin at close to 120 RPM's for long durations, but y'know what? You're not really gonna do it, at least not to the extreme riding a fixed gear will force you to.
In other news, I signed up for this:
http://www.efta.com/content/view/58/49/
Haven't raced my bike that early since I did Sea Otter. Yikes.

The Bit The Bridle and The Thrashing Mane

Been working on my pack riding skills a lot. Yup, everyday I ride to work with a twelve plus pound pack. I figure it's like having a pretty good beer gut going, only with the advantage of being able to drop the extra weight more quickly. It feels like the gravitational pull of the earth just let up slightly when you do. Someone should do a study. Maybe it's like what adventure racers call "Brick Work". The term for what I do wouldn't be nearly so catchy. It would have to be called "Peanut butter and Jelly, Apple, Yogurt, banana, breakfast burritos, pants, shirt, drawers, and other assorted crap...um, work".

In the above photo the faceplate on my stem appears with the logo oriented correctly although the photo is upside down. The only reason I ever flipped my faceplates was to annoy anal retentive roadie types who spend more time looking at their bikes than riding them. I didn't realize it actually served a purpose...when taking upside down photos. Useful...like nipples on men.

I've finally figured out an awesome (relative term) route to work, and sometimes I get to see things like this:

Rode with other folks for the first time in a long time today. IBCer Julie, her boyfriend John, and C Todd. We even picked up a friend along the way, a guy named Jim from Quad Cycles. He was a pleasant guy who insisted on buying me a coffee at True Grinds after the ride. Aces in my book.


After the ride and the post ride coffee M and I hit Soundbites. If I didn't ride bikes I would be a sumo wrestler in no time fat, uh I mean flat.

Week "Off" Wrap up

Went for one last grind before heading off to Vermont for some non-bike related fun (and torture). Struck out for Wayland, MA, where I hit a couple of my favorite roads.
Water Row is one of them, on many days the water creeps up to road level, on this day the ice took on that role. The other is Sherman's Bridge, a real good stretch to get the legs spinning.

The long shadows of winter.

Then it was off to Waitsfield, VT to visit Jeff and Jen Whittingham and the various cute creatures which inhabit their abode. Food was eaten, drinks were imbibed, and I made a rickety return to snowboarding after a 12 year sabbatical. I learned that my bones are no longer made of rubber and I don't bounce when I fall like I once did. But now I have contracted the bug once again and thoughts have wandered off to how I can spend more time sliding sideways on crystallized water next year. Greg "The Leg" has the right idea. He spends as much time skiing in the winter as he does riding in the summer. It shows, the guy rips.


After exhausting the hospitality and sweet hook ups of the Whittinghams we made our way to the Warren General store, the place that was responsible for developing a certain doughy eight year old's predilection for Boursin cheese. Boursin was had, this time around accompanied by smoked salmon and capers. Wow.


The next day it was XC skiing in the North East Kingdom. The icy conditions challenged our rookie skills. No chance you'll see this spastic freak show on two boards at the Weston ski track trying to chase down Colin and Alex any time soon.


The Village Inn up in East Burke is the spot...cheap, comfortable, and unparalleled breakfasts created by George the moose hunting, bacon smoking half of the husband and wife team that run the place. Can't wait to spend a night there during Mt. Bike season. Skipped another day of boarding at Cannon on the way back friday. A storm was coming in and even with the head start we got nailed. After watching countless cars lose it and slide off the road we opted to get off somewhere near Dracut and go overland the last forty miles home. Driving off the road on purpose might have been a preferable option.

Don't worry, I'm back on the bike and I'll have harrowing tales of commuter rage and more photos of weird crap up soon enough.

A Little Rain Never Hurt No One

Tom Waits said that...apparently he never rode a bike in New England in February. Worst case scenario weather, sub-forty degree rain on top of massive snow melt. Rode through Watertown which was aptly named today. The gutters ran deep, hiding my friends the crevasse sized pot holes, who wanted to swallow me whole, bike, pack, and all. Spent all day trying to finagle a ride home, had many generous offers but ultimately opted to dive back in like Jacques Cousteau and pedal back to Somerville.

Drying area. Only warm, dry article of clothing makes a stupid hat. There will be flood.

Magnetic razor holder. Cables. Proxy Pedal.

Huge warehouse rooms full of enormous cable ends and bolts for the bikes of giants.

Junk. Magnet Collection. Junk.