Bad Decision Bicyclist

Run What You Brung

2010-07-12T03:07:40Z

I did this one last year for Fat Tire and have been looking for a good opportunity to do it again. Bikepack to a race, carrying whatever I need for raceday and camping there with me on the bike. And it goes without saying I race whatever bike I ride there too.

Miner's Revenge was the perfect race to do this. The race is only maybe 35 miles from my house and a weekend of camping is just part of the event with plenty of nice spots right on site. Plus it's kind of a technical course with lots of opportunities to hurt myself by riding over my head, so knowing I have to get me and the bike back home under my own power is kind of a good motivator to chill out a bit.

The big plan was to leave Friday right after work and take the long way there, camping along the way someplace. It's usually a nice idea in theory, but rarely works out for me. Instead, I found myself packing for the trip at midnight and on the road the next morning at 7:30AM. I was hoping to stick with dirt as much as possible, but a navigational error put me behind schedule a little more than I'd like. (Did you know there's a drainage ditch between Greenland, MI and my house named "Greenland"? My GPS does.) I hopped out on the pavement for the last 15-20 miles into Mass City and cranked her up making it to registration with minutes to spare. A side benefit of this was that everybody coming from Marquette for the race that morning now knew me as the doofus that rode his bike to the race.

The race went well. I started in the back and managed to work my way up a bit on the climbs, but took it easy on the descents. I managed to avoid getting into the red mist of racing too much and had an enjoyable ride, joking with folks on the trail and really enjoying the new singletrack. Rob and his crew have been hard at work and have built some awesome new trails out there. I wish I could have made it down to help them out this year, but they seem to be getting along fine without me right now. I also just plain flat out enjoy this event. A lot of traditional mountain bike races are lacking in technical challenges. Not so here, and it's certainly not lacking in aerobic challenges either. You have to be a strong all around rider to excel at this event. Which is probably why I finished way in the back. But finish, I did- with me and the bike in one piece.

Shortly thereafter, a friend of mine showed up with a cooler full of beer. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the Coors Light, or maybe it was just the fact that he had a truck and could haul the twisted remains of me and the bike home if it didn't work out, but I decided to do the downhill event as well. I figured I was in way over my head when I was the only one at the start line in spandex on a bike sporting a rear rack instead of rear suspension. Nonetheless, I managed to post some not totally embarrassing times. The course was a fun and it was worth the $10 entry fee just to ride in a 6x6 Pinzgauer up the old ski hill to the start.

We set to work on the rest of the beer around the bonfire that night and it wasn't too long before I wandered off and passed out in my bivy sack for the night. I woke up feeling pretty good, but there was a low point early on that I report with much sorrow. I was handed my first significant defeat of the season by Grandma's Cafe in Mass City, MI. Usually, there are several foodstuffs that I never really fill up on, I just merely run out- pancakes being one of them. Well, Grandma's serves a pretty colossal pile and I was forced to admit defeat and not finish them.

The ride home proved pretty uneventful and I managed to avoid most of the rain. I'm getting my bikepacking setup a little more dialed in. I think I'm going to need a tent to keep doing this comfortably in the midwest, but I was only an extra pair of bikeshorts away from having everything I needed to keep pedaling for a whole week with me on this trip. I'm looking forward to my next bikepacking trip to Copper Harbor for Fat Tire.

Any Excuse To Tour

2010-07-07T15:56:45Z

I think it's been at least two or three posts since I talked about the Tour Divide in this blog. Have you been following it this year? I'm rooting hard for Patrick Tsai. I passed him in the Almanzo 100 and he's currently sticking it out in last place. It's very much one of those "if he can do it..." sort of things.

Anyway, in addition to this year's race, a documentary about the 2008 running has also been released- Ride The Divide. And hey, look at that- a showing in Marinette, WI on July 2nd. That's only 170 miles or so from my house! You know how this goes, right? Yep. Load 'em up, it's touring time!

This time, I did something I'm usually a little reluctant to do- invite others on one of my rides. Since it was a holiday weekend, I had a pretty structured route with camping spots already reserved. People would know exactly what they were getting in to. There was some interest, but in the end, only one taker- My teammate/perpetual arch nemesis, Pat. The guy always, always finishes just ahead of me by a few minutes in every race we ever do. I think I managed to beat him in a cyclocross race once.

Day 1: Askel to Iron Mountain, 108 miles

So I'm all into the bikepacking thing now and whatnot, but right from the get-go I was reminded how much fun it is to get rolling on a fully loaded touring bike. Just something about all that momentum and the smooth, stable ride really appeals to me. And with Pat and I pushing and pulling eachother along, we were just flying right out of the gate. Not even a little rain between Covington and Crystal Falls could slow us down. I think our moving average was hovering just south of the 15mph per hour mark as we rolled into camp that night. Cold beers were obtained and we were asleep in short order.

Day 2: Iron Mountain to Marinette, 76 miles.

This was supposed to be the easy day. You know, knock out 70ish miles after the big hundred mile push and roll into town with plenty of time for bike maintenance, laundry, hot tub, beers, and dinner before the movie. Maybe a nap too.

Things actually went pretty well until maybe the last 20-25 miles when we hit a pretty fierce headwind. We'd rotate the lead every few minutes, but I was quickly getting the crap beaten out of me. I was extremely dismayed when we finally did get to Marinette that the hot tub at the Super 8 was merely a myth intended to draw tired bicyclists away from more well appointed hotels. Oh well. The AC worked and the shower was hot. After a few beers at "The Railhouse" brewpub (Yay for Imperial Pilsner!) and a double order of perch (the Friday Fish Fry is a deeply rooted religious tradition in Wisconsin you best not ignore), I was much happier and looking forward to the movie that night.

We arrived at the theatre a little early to meet Erik Mathy who was hosting the screening as part of his fundraising efforts in advance of entering the 2011 Tour Divide himself. Erik is engaging speaker and very dedicated to his fight against cancer. If you can help him out in any way, I'm sure he and those he's trying to help would appreciate it. His blog is 1gear1cause.org.

I don't need to say much about the movie here. If the subject is even remotely interesting to you, I'm guessing you'll probably see it anyway. Be warned, if you're currently someplace in the middle of the spectrum between "doing the tour divide" and "not doing the tour divide", this movie will do nothing but move you closer in the direction of the former. Non stop awesome scenery, interspersed with inspiring dialogue about the life changing aspects of the ride and the occasional emotional scene when somebody is faced with the prospect of quitting the race. It was awesome. More so on the big screen.

And after the movie I won a kayak rental from CyclePath! Little do they know how easy it would be to push me over the brink of kayak ownership....

After one more beer (the gas station attendant was very much impressed with my sophisticated tastes as reflected in my choice of "Milwaukee's Best Ice" for a nightcap), it was lights out.

Day 3: Marinette to Crystal Falls, 106 miles

We started the day by taking revenge on the hotel for depriving us of a hot tub the night before with a full on touring bicyclist assault of the continental breakfast. We left nothing but a wake of destruction and empty "Bear Claw" wrappers in our path.

It was pretty hot out, but we had a great tailwind pushing us along and made good time. The highlight of the day was probably the Osprey nest on top of the cable tower. If that wasn't cool enough, dad was out hunting nearby and we got to watch him try to take out a crow. Some really nice scenery while out riding today and I was digging out the camera more than I had the entire trip so far.

Finished the day at Bewabic State Park just west of Crystal Falls. Neat old CCC buildings, an awesome swimming lake, and a funky bar right across the street made this the best night of camping on the trip for me.

Day 4: Crystal Falls to Askel, 76 miles

We decided to push hard today to make it back in time for 4th of July Festivities. We still had the tailwind working for us and also a thousand foot drop in elevation once we passed Covington. We were really hauling ass today. Made it back to my house just as it started to cloud up and raindrops were falling as Pat pulled out of my driveway.

Great trip. Riding with Pat really worked out well- teaming up together we can really crank out the miles plus he maintains just the right combination of preplanning and just taking it as it comes to put us on the same page for most of the day. While riding by myself certainly has it's own appeal, touring with others is something I'd like to do more of.

2010 Kona Kahuna: A Review

2010-06-21T02:45:39Z

So yeah, can't trust commercial media these days to do a proper review of a bike. They only seem to rate stuff on a scale of awesome to mind-boggling so. Internet reviews are almost as worthless, but in this case you get some context. You've got a year's worth of ride stories here to see if I have the same kind of bike dork values you do.

And this year, I decided I really wanted a geared 29er. Mostly for bikepacking duty, but maybe also something a little more XC race friendly than the trusty Hoss. I've broken enough stuff over the years that I had a fair idea of what I wanted. Aluminum frame. Eyeletted rims. Name brand spokes. Loose bearing hubs. Mechanical disc brakes. Usually, the traditional selling points don't do it for me. I don't care if it's LX or XTR or SLX or whatever. Shimano MTB components, no matter how cheap, just plain work. Wheels and other rotational stuff like headsets and bottom brackets are far more important to me. And more expensive doesn't necessarily mean better.

Because I get sponsorship from our local shop- a couple of brands got priority: Norco, Marin, Kona, Scott, and Jamis. I also had a budget cap of "about a thousand bucks". Plus or minus however much it took to buy the bike I actually wanted. ;)

One thing became clear from the get-go, my budget cap instantly put me in Dart 3 fork territory. This was actually OK with me. The Dart 3 is one of the last remaining coil sprung 29er forks on the market and I've never really clicked with any of the air forks I've ridden. I've also got a coil sprung Tora fork on my Hoss that just plain works well.

One bike instantly rose to the top- the Kona Kahuna. I have 3 other Kona bikes that I just love, the Kahuna met all my requirements, and the only real drawback was that it was 9 speed. I was very much hoping for 8 speed given how well that's worked out on the Jake. So I did something I've never done before and ordered the bike sight-unseen. It was a long, anxious wait- be warned Kona shipping is slow.

When it finally arrived, I took it out on my local trails and was extremely happy to find it just plain worked. And it was fast too! Now that I've got some miles in on it (not just trails- commuting, road racing (?!), endurance racing), I feel qualified to nitpick it.

So let's start with the one thing that makes a Kona a Kona- the frame. I'm very happy with this. It's almost exactly what I wanted. Well built where it needs to be (I'm trying desperately to get through a bike review without using the word "beefy"). It has what I consider to be the most ideal cable routing- along the bottom of the top tube. Even has a nod to practicality with provisions for fender mounting with eyelets at the rear axle and mounts at the chain and seat stay bridges. I really only have two gripes- one is minor, the lack of rack mounting holes on the seat stays. The other is more significant- there's very limited tire clearance with a front derailer. I realize this is probably moreso a problem with 29er geometry than the Kahuna itself. It looks like switching to a 1×9 setup will fix this problem and let me run something bigger than 29×2.1s.

As expected, the Shimano drivetrain parts just work. Even if it's not 8 speed, I'm pretty happy. I'm getting some creaking from the bottom bracket. I suspect a grease job will cure that for a bit, but I can make pretty much any bottom bracket cry for mercy so I'm not surprised by this. One thing that really surprised me were the hydraulic disc brakes. I figured I'd end up ditching these for a set of my beloved BB7s, but hey- these things rule. Better modulation than the mechanicals and so far none of the stupid futzing with bleeding that I see way too many people doing. Only complaint so far is the front brake's continual march out of alignment. It just never, ever stays put. I always have to adjust that thing.

I'm pretty disappointed by the fork though. I guess it works as well as can be expected but it's very, very flimsy. The front axle can basically be anywhere within a couple of square inches while riding. The final nail in it's coffin was when the right fork seal spontaneously migrated to the top of the stanchion while riding last week. Surprisingly, no oil escaped and after pressing it back in with the proper tools (my car keys and a stick), it seems to functioning just as well as always. I guess this is why I love cheap bike parts though. If a $700 Fox did this to me, I'd be freaking out. I'm thinking this is going to get upgraded soon. The RST M-29 looks like a nice option, but I wish I could find the coil spring version in the US. I'm also considering going rigid as well- those Niner carbon forks just look damn cool even if they're way too nice for a bike like this.

Wheels are always a problem with me, but I'm happy to note these are holding up well. They were slightly out of whack after the Cheq 100, but a quick truing jobs got them back in line. As for the stock tires.... well, I really like them but damn, I've had more flats this year than I've ever had. All with these tires. In fact, after rolling through a briar patch, I've pretty much written them off as untrustworthy as I'm not sure I've managed to pick out all the thorns.

One minor note, and something that really pissed me off. What drunken monkey is putting the rim tape on these bikes? Seriously, they barely managed to cover the spoke nipples. Attention to details such as this kind of says a lot about the overall quality of a bike. It worries me a bit.

The thing that does it for me overall on this bike though is those freakin' giant 710mm handlebars. Sitting up high over those big wheels with all the leverage at my disposal just feels right. And you can't beat just grabbing those suckers and cranking up hills. Big wheels need big bars. Sure it's a little tight weaving through trees sometimes, but it's a tradeoff I'll gladly take. Plus it's just cool to try and touch down a bar end in high speed bermed corners.

Overall, I got what I wanted- a good frame, a reasonable set of wheels, and a good collection of parts. My gamble on going for the cheaper fork didn't pay off as I had hoped, but now I get to pick what I want. It's hardly a perfect bike, but it has no glaring faults and I can fix what I don't like over time as money allows.

Gravel Grinder Equipment Choices

2010-06-17T13:13:52Z

I get a kick out of looking at the search terms people use to arrive at this site. And just before every big gravel race I see a slew of queries regarding tire and gear selection along with more general "gravel road racing bike" type searches.

Well, we here at Bad Decision Bicyclist are here for you. And, well, if you're willing to take gear selection advice from a site that bills itself as the "Bad Decision Bicyclist", gravel road racing is certainly the sport for you. Now keep in mind, I'm far from competing in the elite levels of this sport and have only been gravel road racing for a very short time. But I do spend a lot of time cruising the gravel roads and two tracks of the UP, I never DNF, and I stay pretty comfortable and have a good time. However, I'm a highly opinionated cheap bastard with sometimes esoteric tastes. I'll try to at least explain why I do the things I do so you know the variables you'll have to contend with when you make your own choices.

The first thing to start with is tires. It's a big choice that affects what type of bike you'll be riding so consider it carefully. Cyclocross tires are a popular option, but all those cute little knobs just don't seem all that functional to me in the conditions I most often encounter. And they wear away pretty quickly. My choice: 35C Panaracer Paselas. They're cheap (the wire bead versions can be had for $15), they hook up surprisingly well in dirt, they last a long time, and are versatile enough to tour and commute on as well. I spend the extra ten bucks on the folding bead TourGuard versions, but I've never had any kind of puncture problems off road with the cheaper models. They'll slog it out in the mud in a pinch, but if things are going to get that ugly- best just switch to a mountain bike.

700c tires gives me lots of options on the bike front- everything from cyclocross to touring to monster cross to full on mountain bikes along with all the little niches in between. I find a cyclocross style bike works best. Mountain bikes work OK for when things get really ugly, but a cyclocross bike is generally faster for me and can deal with most conditions I'll likely encounter. Monster cross style, drop bar mountain bikes just seem like a "worst of everything" style compromise to me.

My personal choice is my trusty Kona Jake. The aluminum frame and a steel fork provide ride characteristics that work well for my riding style. It's got all the eyelets necessary for racks and fenders and what not, and most importantly- it's cheap. Spend a fair amount of time on gravel and it will tear up components. Replacing 8 speed cogs and chains is much more economical than fancy Ultegra bits- and really, after a 75 miles of grit and grime- I think it shifts better than the expensive stuff anyway. For brakes, I stick with cantilevers. When set up properly, they provide more than enough stopping power for 700x35 tires, even using cheap pads. I see no reason to jump for discs or any need to buy special brake pads.

One thing I did do this year is spring for a heavy duty set of wheels- with really wide Mavic A319 rims. Wow, best upgrade ever. The Paselas really like the wide rims and the whole bike feels much more stable. Very, very helpful when bombing those sketchy downhills.

I generally run under 60psi in the front and over 60psi in the rear. Plus or minus however much it needs because I forgot to pump up the tires. I don't really stress about this a lot. I usually leave my rear fender and rack on the bike, mainly because it's easier to do so than to constantly remove and add them for commuting duty. However, I do worry about wedging a rock up underneath the fender and shredding a tire. Never seen it actually happen, but on those occasional killer death climbs- I occasionally pray for just such an occurrence.

For clothing, I stick with my team kit from Champion Systems. It's great for getting our brand out there in shorter races. For slogging it out all day in varying conditions, I'm less than enthusiastic about it. I'm currently experimenting with lots of wool clothing and having excellent results. I'll be pushing hard for a wool version of the team kit next time around.

I'm very careful about spare gear and tools that I pack. Give me a pannier and I'll fill it, old boyscout "be prepared" habits die hard. I usually try to keep my load down to a couple of water bottles in the cages, a small camelback, and a seat bag. Tools and spares include a bike multitool, leatherman, 2 spare tubes, patch kit, frame mounted pump, duct tape, and spare master link. Depending on weather, I might pack the arm warmers and a heavier set of gloves- but I've never had to go digging for warmer clothes as I'm usually shedding extra clothing at every opportunity. Depending on what time of year it is, I might have a little bug spray or sunscreen handy too.

I also have a small feedbag type thing I keep strapped to the top tube. I usually rely on fig newtons, salted almonds, and maybe an ice cold coke from a gas station or something to get me through the day.

For navigation I rely on a Banjo Brothers Map holder. One thing I've found to be helpful is to put a paperclip or something on there to mark which instruction I'm working on. I usually also have a GPS in my camelback tracking the course, mainly so I can geek out over the numbers later. I usually rely on a cheap $10 walmart bike odometer for course mileages.

And well... that's basically it. I've managed to go out and enjoy every ride I've been on with no DNFs due to equipment. I've got things ironed out enough that I rarely even have annoying small problems to contend with. It's important to consider shakedown runs and finding out what works for you, especially when it comes to stuff like food and other deeply personal issues like bike shorts.

I hope this was helpful, but don't come looking for me when you hoark up half a box of fig newtons after your budget cyclocross bike conks out on you midride. ;)

CannonTrek VII

2010-06-15T11:54:01Z

I've been doing the motorcycle dork thing a lot longer than the bicycle dork thing. One of the motorcycle dork things I look forward to most is CannonTrek- an 1100 dual sport ride around the UP with some of my imaginary internet motorcycle friends.

Even if you know what "dual sporting" is, it's tough to describe the concept of the CannonTrek. At it's premise- the route is mostly dirt with some single track, sandy sections, and other technical challenges thrown in with a lot of really fun dirt roads, two tracks, and the rare paved section. It takes us four full days of riding to complete the route and we travel as light as possible, hoteling it along the way. We're an entirely self supported crew relying only on what we can cobble together to keep everybody going.

But it's difficult to describe just how tough this route is. Last year, I had to bail on part of the ride as I couldn't deal with the constant rain and mid-forties temperatures on the third day. This year, it was an entire week before I recovered enough to get back on the bicycle.

What really makes this ride cool however, is the teamwork involved. It's even harder to describe than the route itself. 20 guys, most of whom have never actually met before can come together and have a great four days of riding. And when things get difficult- we'll really come together to help each other through it. This is why I do this ride every year. The route is right in my backyard, but it isn't the same without a good group of folks to ride with.

Anyway- I give you the official ride report. There's a lot of really cool pictures in there. Individual stories are still pouring in at the end.

Chequamegon 100

2010-06-08T16:18:33Z

"Dude, how'd it go?"

I don't know.

It was really hard, I guess.

But I finished.

Definitely the hardest thing I've ever done on a bicycle.

And now that it's behind me I'm sort of lost and without a goal to shoot for.

I started this bike racing thing almost exactly four years ago. I signed up for the 16 mile Chain Drive. I honestly wasn't sure if I'd even finish, let alone beat anybody. And sure enough, I did finish- even beat a few people too.

Some people are sore losers, I'm a sore winner. This was merely an indication I needed to try something much harder next time. So I've been doing progressively harder and harder races ever since. This past April and May were the culmination of that- 2 hundred mile plus gravel grinders, a 100 mile mountain bike race, and a 75+ mile road race with the local big dogs that I decided to do on a mountain bike. After spending a lot of time and money preparing for these, I successfully completed them all.

So now it's time to pick an even harder event- right? There's no shortage of events to choose from. The Trans Wisconsin, Tour Divide, Arrowhead 135. All big challenges. However, all will take a significant amount of time and money to prepare for. In some cases, life altering amounts of time and money. And here's the problem- lately, I just haven't been getting out of cycling what I've been putting into it.

Four years ago, my enthusiasm would positively nauseate you. And why not? I dropped over 100 lbs with the help of cycling, got myself in the best shape of my life, met some cool new people, and had some fun new adventures. It goes to reason then that if I cycle more, I'll get more of these things- right?

Well, maybe not.

I know what's going on here. I've seen this pattern in me enough. I've done it with all sorts of things. Motorcycles, rally, ham radio, the list goes on and on... This is the phase where I go from being completely gonzo about something to quietly integrating it into my lifestyle. Focusing on the things I enjoy most about the sport and committing to them.

I've got a pretty empty calendar for the rest of this season. I'm teaming up with my dad for the 12 hours of Potluck. I'm looking forward to Miner's Revenge and the Copper Harbor Fat Tire Fest- albeit maybe more for the parties than the races themselves. I certainly won't miss the Official Unofficial UP State Single Speed Championships at the Great Deer Chase. And of course there's my favorite form of bike racing ever- cyclocross in the fall again. In between I'm hoping to get some touring in and of course the best kind of riding ever- just getting lost all day on a bike.

Things might be kind of quiet around here for the rest of the summer, but rest assured- I'll be out pedaling. Gotta justify that beer drinking somehow. :)

What do you win?

2010-05-18T00:22:46Z

That's what the nice lady on horseback at Forestville State Park wanted to know.

I mean, there's got to be one heck of a prize involved that would lead 200+ people to race down 100 miles of dusty Minnesota gravel roads on bicycles, right?

As we were all cramming food down our throats, guzzling water, and making some last minute adjustments to get us through the final 40 miles of the day somebody managed to answer her question-

"A jar of rocks."

After previously questioning us on how many we were, where we had been and how far we had come, she was suddenly out of questions. We were clearly all complete nut jobs who were liable to spook the horses.

Honestly, I was beginning to question my own sanity a bit too. I went into this 2010 rendition of the Almanzo 100 with no idea what to expect. I felt I had a pretty good showing at the Ragnarok 105, but that was over a month ago. I had just returned from my annual week and a half long One Lap of America jaunt where my only exercise consisted of adjusting the power seats in a BMW 335d to encompass my rapidly expanding ass as I hopped from Waffle House to Waffle House across the heartland of America.

I figured I'd be pretty happy with another 8 hour 100 mile gravel grind, but I wasn't making any bets. I was packing a little extra water and food in case I was out there for a 12 hour haul. I had maybe 4-5 solid hours on the bike since I returned from my trip and while I felt strong, I had no idea how my endurance would hold up. So I took a conservative midpack starting position and started easy.

And then started passing people.

Lots and lots of people.

And then I latched onto a group of 2-5 people just slightly faster than me and we kept it up until the ranks thinned out and it was just us out there. Sometimes we pushed hard, sometimes we kept it at conversation pace. But we kept the pace up and held our position. We'd pick off the occasional straggler, but nobody was getting by us.

That "slightly faster" part stand out at all? Yeah, it became readily apparent to me too by mile 50, but I managed to hold on until the 60 mile checkpoint. I figured at that point I could let them go and keep a casual pace for the rest of the ride and enjoy it. Because, well- a self assessment here was not yielding positive results. I was hurting in ways I had never hurt before and had no effective strategy to deal with it.

Now, for whatever reason- and I'd like to think it's because I maybe helped pull for approximately 45 seconds of the 4 hours we had been pedaling thus far, they asked if I was going to continue on with them. Or maybe it they just felt bad for the fat kid who drove down from Michigan for this thing or maybe just found it kind of funny how I'd occasionally stuff three Fig Newtons in my mouth and then try to keep breathing.

Anyway, I jumped at the opportunity and almost immediately knew I was in over my head. I was struggling to hang on to the tail of the group. It was just a matter of when I would get dropped. And sure enough, on a rough climb after the water crossing (Yes, there was a stream crossing in this race. And it was totally awesome. And refreshing.), they started to pull away.

I gave it a go trying to hang on, as we only had twenty miles left but that was it. I was done. Down to the littlest chainring for a couple of miles. It was all I could do just to keep the pedals turning over. Surprisingly, only maybe 10 people caught up to me in this time. I managed to recover a bit and pick up the pace a little on the home stretch with only a few more people making a sprint to the end getting by me.

Craig Linder managed to get a few awesome pictures of me.

Just before the pack really started to thin around mile 40:

And about 10 miles from the finish. With visions of "Grainbelt" brand beer dancing in my head:

I pulled in with a 6:39 finish time. Good enough for 51st. Out of 267 official finishers? I'm amazed. It's enough to make we want to take this gravel grinder stuff really, really seriously.

But I can't end this story about the Almanzo 100 without talking about the event itself. Having spent some time on the organizer side of the equation once or twice, I'm just simply in awe of what the Almanzo 100 organizer has managed to do. From the handwritten note addressed to me in my registration packet to the heartfelt handshake from him at the end- it's a class act, all the way. And even more amazing is that he can do this all without charging anybody any entry fees. I can't say enough good things about this race.

Ronde Van Skandia

2010-04-18T00:11:38Z

I've been wanting to do this race for a couple years. It's basically a "spring classic" style road race featuring the occasional gravel and sand roads, some bad pavement, but mostly just back roads cruising for 80 miles.

But hey, I have a new bike. And you know what I like to do when I have a new bike- race it in an inappropriate setting! I knew I was in trouble when I took the start line surrounded by 25C tires. General consensus was that yours truly was either crazy, stupid or both with his 29x2.1s and a 29lb mountain bike.

Really, I was kind of using this as a test to see how comfortable it was over the long haul before the Chequemagon 100. I was expecting to get dropped hard and spend the rest of the afternoon out riding by myself.   I managed to hang on through the neutral rollout, but when the race started- sure enough, I established my residence in good ol' Offthebackistan.   That was cool. I had 60 miles to spin and stuff my face with fig newtons.

Only problem was, the SAG wagon driver wasn't going to let me....

He'd told me to get in my biggest gear, get on his bumper and he'd give me a draft to the tail end of the pack. I seriously considered whining my way into staying in beautiful, yet incredibly windy Offthebackistan, but... well... he was very convincing.   So I let 'er rip in 44x11 knowing that I was on the fast track to blowing up bad, but after a mile or so, I managed to catch a group of riders who had fallen off the main pack.

Honestly, I'm glad I I did that. The wind was bad. Fighting it with my 710mm bars all by myself would not have been fun. It was so bad, it literally blew a lady in front of me right over. I'm glad I had disc brakes. The Jake never would have stopped in time and rolled right over her.

So now I had myself a pretty jovial group of riders who had no expectation of winning and were determined to help eachother through the nasty wind. There may have a been a rider or three who bailed on the race early- perhaps to avoid the stigma of finishing with some dude on a mountain bike, but I won't name names. :)

Towards the end, out little group fell apart. I was hurting bad. Really bad. It's been a while- if ever that I've hurt this bad in a bike race. But hey, I finished. Quite possibly dead last or very close to such. But, given the competition at this race- I'll take it. And I was quite happy to note that I had no comfort issues at all with the bike all day. Mission accomplished, I guess.

Maybe next year I need to do something harder. I'm thinking single speed.

Ragnarök 105

2010-04-14T10:02:29Z

I have been looking forward to this race all winter. I didn't have much of a plan going into last year's season and did a lot of the same ol'-same ol'. It was a good season in the end, but I was itching for some new challenges. When I stumbled across the 'Rök and it's rally style, tulip instructions- I figured I found something cool. I ended up signing up for most of the Almanzo Gravel Road Series.

Still, I went into yet another race feeling kind of down. I've been putting a lot of effort into getting the miles in I need, often neglecting a lot of other things I should be doing (my house looks like a hurricane ripped through a bicycle shop, then drank a few beers and piled dirty dishes in the sink.) A lot of these miles have been in some pretty miserable conditions. Furthermore, I'd just laid out a significant lump of cash to fill out and improve the gravel road racing bike arsenal and none of my fancy new toys had arrived yet. Physically- I was feeling great, but mentally- I just couldn't get my head into it.

Once I got to Frontenac State Park and put a healthy dent in a 12 pack of Grain Belt, I was starting to come around. Red Wing was for more scenic than I figured it would be, and the weather was turning out to be downright pleasant. Everything was lining up for a perfect day on the bike.

When I got to the start location the next morning, I parked right next to quite possibly the only WRX wagon as ratty as mine sporting oversized mudflaps and equally brimming with bike shit. I had apparently found my peoples. Sure enough, it didn't take long to find the source of all the rally influence on this event- one of the organizers was Larry Warrington, a long time rally competitor. Mingling about that morning introduced me to a whole cast of cool folks. See, nobody turns on the TV and sees a bunch of Pros slogging it out on 100+ miles of dirt with nothing but themselves to rely on. As such, most of the people at the start line had arrived there on their own, not trying to emulate some preconceived notion about what a bicycle race should be. The bicycles they rode reflected this. Every kind of frame, wheel, tire, gearing and brake configuration imaginable. Sure, there was a definite spike around the cyclocross variety of bike, but as the dude on the Pugsley showed- this was all about the rider, not the bike.

So- great weather, 105 miles of great roads ahead and surrounded by some cool people. Let's do it!

Now, you probably have some vision of a bunch of beer swilling hippies wandering about the backroads and comparing notes on long reach caliper brakes. Such was hardly the case, there's some very fast people in the field and they wasted no time getting down to business in the King of the Mountain competition. See, 105 miles is just too easy- the organizers also saw fit to offer another competition over the 8 biggest climbs over the first half of the course. Actually, I think the organizers just needed an excuse to hang out at the top of some of the plentiful hills just to see the look of agony on our faces as we crested the top.

Us mere mortals (and beer swilling longhairs) knew our biggest battles of the day would be mainly with ourselves and the course. As such, we hung back in packs and kept it mellow, enjoyed the company and cracked wise. Now I'm still very much a newbie to this whole bike racing thing and as one who's discovered the joys of wheelsucking, I do so at every opportunity. Except on this course, I was noticing something- my abilities were not totally in sync with those riding at the same speed as me. They'd bomb the downhills way faster than me, and I'd be left struggling to catch up, only to hit the next uphill where I'd slow way down so as not to completely ditch them. But I still couldn't couldn't hang on to anyone faster up ahead. I was beginning to suspect I might be better off on my own.

So at the halfway break, I took an abbreviated stop and ventured out on my own. I was sort of expecting my old pack to catch up with me eventually, but just out of Zumbro Falls, I had the road to myself. And a beautiful ride it was, along the river and up a two track. And then? Sheer misery. Miles 60-80 were the toughest part of the course. Gradually going uphill that entire distance and just getting blasted by the wind. Granny gear territory. Occasionally, somebody would grind their way up to me and I'd ride with them a bit, but we were going so slow and the winds so strong that drafting didn't really seem to do much. Conversation and riding side by side seemed to help the miles go by a little quicker.

Finally, at mile 80- we were out of the wind and it was no longer a gradual uphill. It was one steep mother of an uphill- and you could see the whole thing winding it's way up the side of a hill. Demoralizing as all hell, right? Well- the weirdest thing happened here- I just got to work stomping my way up that thing and by the time I reached the top- I felt great. Totally rejuvenated. It's like that climb cleared all the pain and misery out of my legs. And every time it would creep back in, we'd hit another climb and I could clear it all out.

As such, I rolled the last 25 miles into town with a smile on my face for an 8:04 finish. 38th out of 76 who managed to complete the thing. And I missed winning a fancy HED wheelset by one place. This race is definitely on my must do list for next year. I'm looking forward to riding with these folks again at the Almanzo 100 in May and if the course is even half as good, it'll be a great time.

(In)Decision

2010-04-05T09:59:09Z

Managed to get a good training ride in this weekend. 'Twas a plan hatched over too many beers at the KBC the night before.

"James, you should come to Marquette tomorrow."

"Can't. Gotta ride my bike."

"Ride to Marquette!"

"Uhhh, OK."

So I took the Northwest Road from Skanee over to Big Bay. Was a very, very nice ride except for the segment from Dodge City to 510.   Still lots of frost holes. Enough to swallow half a bicycle wheel. Once I had made it that far, no way I was turning back. Made it the Portside around 6pm. This was a pretty good ride, I'm feeling pretty confident going into the Ragnarok. About myself, anyway.

I'm still uncertain which bike I want to use. I have a new 29er that should be arriving any day now. I'd like to race it this weekend, but I'm concerned it might be too slow. But then again, I'm signed up to do a hundred miles of singletrack on it in May. This will be one of exactly two opportunities between now and then to get 100 miles in on this bike- both races. But I've only got a few days to test it out and get it setup before this one. But then, the ol' Jake's new wheelset has been delayed and really could use about $100 worth of new drivetrain components (which is unlikely to happen before the race).   Dunno.

I was also happy to note that I got a place in the "Heck of the North", another gravel grinder in the AGRS.   This gets me an entry in 4 out of the 5 AGRS races including the two lottery entries. The fifth one, all I have to do is sign up and I'm in. Only problem is, that race is the day after the start of the Trans Wisconsin.   And the same day as the Chain Drive. I wouldn't mind skipping the Chain Drive this year as it always kicks my ass, but I really want to do the Trans Wisconsin. But I don't know if I can get the vacation time for it, organize a ride down to the start, cough up the cash for the lightweight bikepacking gear I'd need, or get back in time for Superior Bike Fest. I'd like to say I'm undecided on this, but I think I've already made up my mind. Even these gravel grinders are proving very difficult to train and prepare for. It's very, very hard to find the time to get the miles in that I'd like to get in. Given that May and June are going to be absolutely nuts as it is, maybe I should sit it out the Trans Wisconsin this year or maybe run an individual time trail in July.

Gravel Road Racing: Officially AWESOME.

2010-03-31T15:56:49Z

Yep. At least 35 miles of it anyway. We'll see how I feel about it after 100+ miles next weekend.

Barry-Roubaix this past weekend. What a way to start the season. I was really looking forward to this for a couple of reasons. First, it would be my dad's first bike race ever (Yes, he chose something with the word 'killer' in the subtitle as his first race. I am obviously his son.) Second, it would be a good shakedown cruise for my upcoming 100 mile gravel grinders. Oh, and third- I managed to line up the sale of my trusty Trek 1500 road bike. This was going to pad out my recreation fund enough to get me a new bike for this year. I also wanted to sneak a little singletrack in and maybe camp out on this trip. Somehow, I fit all the crap I needed into my car.

Managed to get the Trek to it's new owner. Excuse me while I get a little misty eyed over parting with this bike. It's the bike that launched all this insanity in the first place. Purchased almost entirely on impulse from Cross Country Sports almost exactly 3 years ago. I really liked the paint job. I dropped about 50-60 pounds riding that bike around. I grew to really love the superlight wheelset (well, compared to everything else I have), and the Ultegra 3x9 drivetrain setup is, without a doubt, the pinnacle of drop bar drivetrains in my opinion. Only problem is, I can't seem to ride by a dirt road these days without wanting to go down it, and that just wasn't the bike for it. I'm glad it's going to a friend who will use it to further his fitness goals as well. I hope it serves him well.

Anyway, now that that's out of the way. Let me bitch about chain lube for a while. You should just fast forward through this part. It's purely the ravings of a crazy man. So I beat my folks to Team Bialas HQ in Grand Rapids by an hour or two, which was good as I had some maintenance to do on my bikes. Mainly due to poor choice in chain lube. For 3 years, I've had great luck using whatever I happened to buy off the shelf or get for free at a bike race. I assumed this trend would continue. Not so. Apparently, there is actually a difference besides price in all this stuff. With all my spring gravel road riding, I had some seriously gunked up chains to deal with before my folks got there. I got things mostly cleaned up and went a little lighter on the lube this time around and figured I was set for tomorrow's race.

Over carbo-loading that night, I gave my dad a quick intro to Wheelsucking 101: "Pick a dude slightly faster than you and stay right behind him the whole way! NEVER pass him until the end!". Other than that, we mostly exchanged a lot of stories beginning or ending with "It seemed like a good idea at the time..."

I got down to the race early and prerode the first couple miles of the course. I'm glad I did. There was a fairly technical two track a couple miles in. You basically had three options. Try and stay on the rocky center, slog out in the sand filled ruts, or hop up on the shoulder. If there were lots of people, this was going to get fun.

And now, the start... Oh man.... See, this is only the second year for the race. In this time, it has grown from 200something people last year to over 700, making it the third largest bike race in Michigan. The start procedure might need a little tweaking. I thoroughly enjoyed it, but I can see how some people would get pissed. The idea was we'd do a nuetral rollout, staying within our respective waves until the actual start. Well, the rollout was S...L...O...W... So much so that we were packed up like sardines and people were pushing their way into the more advanced waves ahead. Didn't take a cat 1 to see what was going to happen here.

Sure enough, no more than 50 yards after the very first turn and the first chunk of gravel...

BODIES AND BIKES EVERYWHERE!

TOTAL FUCKING PANDEMONIUM!

It looks like some people might have gotten hurt, and I kind of feel bad for them but geez... way to go geniuses. The winter wasn't that long, did you all completely forget how to ride a bike?

Ah, but it wasn't even close to over yet. We were still all packed up heading into that two track. Total. Fucking. Melee. Roadies who couldn't do dirt. Mountain bikers who couldn't ride in a group. Jackasses who were going to win the race right then and there. I'm proud to say I managed to keep it upright through all this and emerge unscathed. You learn a thing or two in UPCROSS.

After that, things kind of started to sort themselves out. Faster riders were zooming up from the back. Slower riders were falling off the front. It made it really hard to settle into a suitable pack. I probably spent way more time riding alone than I should have.

Somewhere in there, I had a host of mechanical issues. First the nozzle on my camelback broke off- requiring that I drench myself every time I wanted a drink. Then my front derailer went way out of whack, but not so much that it wasn't functional. And then I realized I went a little too light on the lube when my rear derailer started making a nasty squealing noise. Oh, and my front fender was rattling like hell. I was a little distracted.

It took me a couple miles to get my head back into 'race mode' and try to settle in with a group of riders. The course was actually pretty tough. Lots and lots of hills- no real killer death climbs, but quite a few I couldn't sprint up. That, combined with everybody around me being on all different kinds of bikes and all kinds of different abilities made it really tough to hold a group together. Plus, there were so many people strung out along the course, you could kind of sprint from one person to the next and recover as needed.

The last climb at the end was a tough one. Long and gradual. Any groups we had going into that were just totally broken up on that hill. As such, we were all pretty spaced out by the finish, so no crazy sprinting fun took place. I never saw my dad once we rejoined the beginner course, so I figured he was having a good day and beat me to the finish line or chucked his bike into the woods and said to hell with this bike racing crap.

Sure enough, he beat me by like 3 minutes and had a good time during the race. Although he seemed to enjoy it, his bike racing season is now officially over as golf season has begun.

I managed to hang on for a respectable and not totally embarrassing finish in the Expert class. As usual, I found myself just at the end of the smaller gaps with a 2:09 finish. I think I had a shot at a sub 2 hour finish, but perhaps next year. I was very, very happy to note that this might be the first time I've ever completed a race without just wanting to curl up and die after it was done. Maybe I didn't push as hard as I could have, maybe I'm getting stronger, maybe it's something in the nature of gravel road racing, but damn- it's nice to be able to eat after a race.

Awesome, awesome race in all. I think they might improve the start procedure which will take a little excitement out of it, but I hope to be back next year anyway. It's good to get into race mode early like this. I wasn't feeling this good on the bike until sometime in July last year.

I've got to dial in a few things this weekend before the Ragnarok 105, but I'm feeling pretty confident about that. I know I won't win, but I'm sure I can manage a respectable and not totally embarrassing finish there too. The lottery approach to these races keeps me honest. Knowing that lots of fast people who train hard can't race because I lucked out and got a spot keeps me motivated in my training. I want to make sure I can add to the competition next weekend instead of just fighting for survival.

Oh, and my new Kona Kahuna should be here Monday.

Anything Worth Doing Is Worth Overdoing, Part II

2010-03-15T17:38:07Z

So I've got a couple of knees that aren't exactly really happy right now and maybe 90 miles of commuting under my belt for cumulative pedaling so far this season. Weather was nice this weekend. Maybe time to get a few easy spinning miles in? Get the knee all rehabed up for the race coming up in two weeks?

Oh come on, you know me better than that. It's time to ride out to the biggest fucking hill I can find, ride to the top, then take the muddy, rock strewn road back down the other side. Also gotta sneak in as much dirt as I can on the way there and back.

You know a ride's going to be good when the road gods bless you with a pizza within the first five miles. I'm sure there was a beer or two out there as well- or certainly enough empties to buy some. The receding snowbanks revealed all kinds of hidden treasure. And deer carcasses.

A few miles later, I turned off the pavement and hit my first dirt of the day. I stopped at the top of the hill and looked back down the road, out over Keweenaw Bay towards the Huron Mountains I'd soon be trying to conquer. This picture demonstrates my complete inability to capture such images.

Climbing the paved section to Herman, stopping to see what I've accomplished. My photography skills continue to amaze.

Climbing up to Herman is always cool, as it's the closest thing we have to a mountain road around here. You can actually watch as the climate and geology change the higher you get. Herman proved to have some interesting road conditions at times.

And other times, was totally awesome.

Logging crews were out in force. Or at least their equipment was. I'm convinced that when the robot apocalypse comes, humans will meet extinction in the claws of things resembling logging machinery.

I gotta say, my fancy new wool jersey (Thanks, mom!) really did the trick. It's much more tolerant of the wide ranging weather conditions you see in a typical day than the usual synthetic bike garb. Unfortunately, this is the best I can do in the beard department, so I still can't qualify as a full on wool n' leather retrogrouch yet.

Finished up with about 85 miles on the clock. I was dismayed that my knee was giving me some grief. Happily, not "HOLY SHIT STOP WHATEVER THE HELL YOU'RE DOING!!!" kind of grief, but a more mellow "Sorry pal, we're not at full strength yet, so take it easy." kind. So I seem to be making progress- despite doing stupid things on the bike. I think I'll be in good shape for the Barry Roubaix and well on my way to a trouble free Ragnarok in a month.

Back Country Snow Race!

2010-03-11T18:12:33Z

Have I bitched and moaned enough about how bad ski season has been going for me? No? You want to hear more? Great!

Well, I finally got over the respiratory infection/cold thing from hell. It only took 3 goddam weeks. Basically, it'd work like this- I'd feel like crap on Monday and slowly recover through the week until I felt good enough to ski on the weekend. Then I'd ski my brains out and be back to square one on Monday again.

While I finally managed to ditch any symptoms of actual illness, it was a generally shitty week leading up to the race. To the point that I got home on Friday with exactly 1.5 hours to get all my crap together for two days of racing and a night of camping. I almost threw in the towel, but the whole idea behind the race just sounded too cool and I really wanted to be there to support the folks putting it on if nothing else. So I did what I could and managed to get everything together and a reasonable 5-6 hours of sleep before I had to drive up to Copper Harbor for the start.

Registration went quick and I got a slick new hat. 15 people signed up, two of which competed as a team. It was cool to see Jon and Steve from Telefest there too.

Day One:

The event started at the Keweenaw Mountain Lodge at 9am. It was still cold enough that the snow was fairly crusty and very, very fast. Shortly after the start and whoa, hey... I'm up in front! Didn't hold on to that for long though when we came to an icy and kind of treacherous downhill on Dancing Bear. All we could do was laugh. We'd all ski 5 feet, fall down, then repeat the process. The smart thing to do would have been to ditch our skis and run down- but our spirit had yet to be broken and we were all still firmly dedicated ski purists.

Somewhere within this first mile, I broke a pole. Thankfully one of the skiers just behind me loaned me some duct tape and I set to work splinting it with a stick. Somehow in this process, I managed to cut the tip of my finger a bit, but I didn't really notice until the next skier came down the trail, got this pale look on their face, and asked "Are you OK?!"

"Yeah, I'm fine...", I responded and then looked down.

Blood.

Everywhere.

I assured them that despite appearances, I would survive. I promptly performed some emergency backcountry medicine and put my gloves back on- out of sight, out of mind.

With both me and my ski pole slightly damaged but once again functional, I pressed on. French Annie proved to be a lot easier on skis than on a bike. Somewhere in there I learned that the best technique was a sort of cyclocross style ski dismount and remount to clear the sketchier stuff. I also gave up on my ski pole and just resorted to using whatever sticks I could find as a replacement. Turns out, the woods is full of sticks and they actually work fairly well as ski poles.

After this we hit the East Vein Rd. and Kamikaze trail return. These proved to be incredibly scenic and very fast on skis. Unfortunately, my knee was starting to bother me. Without tracks to follow, my big, wide skis would wander about on the packed snowmobile trail we were on it was really starting to bug me.

We were off it soon enough, but I don't know if it was really a blessing when we went straight up a wall by Manganese Falls. After this we were back on the bike trails. Leading up to this, I was having a bit of a discussion with myself about how hard to push. Sure, I got dusted pretty early on- but who knows what was ahead. Other people might have problems to.

Anyway, I'm glad I decided not to push hard on the final section. Der We Went and Stairway To Heaven can be scary enough just on foot. You could easily make a colossal, grand-daddy, call the coast guard chopper to fly out the remains screw up trying to ski those trails at speed. Just like a lot of stuff in Copper Harbor, at a mellow pace it was pretty cool and a good finish for the day. Made it back to base camp, ahead of a few people even.

Initially, I was a little non-plussed at the $60 entry fee for the race. Sure, they promised a lot of food in the deal- but I've had enough bad experiences with race provided food that I wasn't expecting much. Sometimes they run out, sometimes it's slow to arrive, sometimes it just plain sucks. But when lunch was served after we finished, I was beginning to think the $60 might have been worth it. Plenty of really good food was laid out for us.

Everybody actually had a really good day and finished well in advance of the organizer's expectations. This gave me plenty of time to get set up for my second duty of the day- working a couple of checkpoints for the Keweenaw Winter Rally.

Honestly, I had planned to spend the night up in Copper Harbor, sleeping out in my bivvy sack. But, well.... you see.... uhh... my rally responsibilities didn't end until around 10pm all the way back down in Houghton and then a friend called and asked me to look at something on her car real quick. And then, well- there just wasn't a real solid argument for driving all the way back to Copper Harbor just to sleep 6 hours in a snowbank. I opted for a warm bed and and doing the drive the next morning.

Day Two:

I went into this with pretty low expectations. My knee was still bothering me a bit and I was fairly certain I couldn't overtake any of the leaders enough to win any awards. So, I figured I just enjoy the day- which was turning out to be just as awesome as the day before. Sunny and blue skies with temps climbing up into the mid forties.

The organizers came through and topped lunch the previous day with an awesome breakfast. Nobody left hungry, that's for certain.

We started out across the lake and dangnabit! I was out in front again. I didn't have to worry for long though- the climb up Paul's Plunge proved difficult enough and it wasn't long before I was behind everybody. Another reason to take it easy was I that I had recently purchased some new climbing skins for my skis and was anxious to try them out. I figured the steep uphills on the Red Trail would be the perfect opportunity. I was a little too anxious though and put them on way, way too early. And since putting them on and taking them off takes so much time- I figured I'd just leave them on. Sure enough though- they worked great and probably saved my butt on a few quick downhills that got thrown in there. I was pretty firmly in the back now without much trail left after we went by the Keweenaw Mountain Lodge again, so I just sat back and enjoyed the ski.

While doing this though, I came to the sudden realization that my knees had only started bothering me once I started using some Voile knee pads I had bought to replace the black diamonds I had used for years and then lost at telefest. I had figured the knee problem was just yet another side effect of my abysmal ski season so far- but it really made me wonder.

Anyway, the rest of the race went great and I finished with all my poles intact and no blood this time. As is often the case, I was hit by a mighty powerful post-race thirst and decided to ski back to basecamp and fetch my beer supply. I decided to remove my knee pads and see if that helped my knees at all.

Sure enough- even though we had to ski down snowmobile trails that should have hurt like hell, I was mostly pain free. Cured! I've got a little bit of recovery and rehab ahead of me to undo the damage, but it's a huge relief to get to the bottom of that problem. Sorry Voile, I love your bindings, but the kneepads just don't work for me. Bummer too, they're soft and cushy.

After awards, if I had any doubts about the cost of this race, they were certainly erased by the feast we were treated to at the Mariner North after the race. Wow. Seriously, this whole event was like $60 worth of awesome food with a free hat and a little skiing thrown in.

I'm really glad I stuck it out and made this race. I can't say enough good things about it. The organizers have big plans to improve the event and get more people involved and I really look forward to it. It's just the kind of thing I love- fun skiing with a lot of cool folks in a race context just to keep us all moving and on time. The great thing is that even though it's a pretty unique challenge on skis, with the snowshoe option- this race can be enjoyed by damn near anybody of any ability. I'll be badgering my friends relentlessly to join me next year.

The Monday after, I was happy to note yers trooly made the front page of the paper. Steve is looking determined in the front. I'm just behind him, probably looking for sticks in case I break another ski pole.

Full article here.

BDB Signs with Red Jacket Cycling Team in 2010

2010-03-02T14:42:57Z

Sorry, Slipstream.

Trans Wisconsin! (and backcountry snow racing)

2010-02-20T14:12:44Z

OK, I'm pretty stoked. Just saw this: Trans Wisconsin

I really wanted to take a stab at the Tour Divide this year, but that's going to take a little bit more planning and backing out of personal commitments than I can pull off this year. The Trans Wisconsin is a lot more doable. The biggest hurdle will just be getting somebody to drive me to the start. Still, I want to make sure I survive the Chequamegon 100 and the Almanzo 100 just one week earlier before I commit 100% to this.

Especially cool is that it's based on a motorcycle route assembled by some of my imaginary internet motorcycle friends.

In slightly less crazy distances news, looks like I can commit to the Copper Harbor Backcountry Snow Race now. Looks like it'll be a fun weekend. Maybe that new sleeping bag and bivy sack were a good investment after all.