Recently in bicycling Category

Just finished what is easily in the running for my best day of skiing ever. 

I've literally been planning this thing for years. We lucked out in that an access road is plowed this winter, cutting several miles off the trip. It was possible to complete this in about 9 hours instead of requiring an overnight.

And it was even better than I expected, despite spring-like conditions. 

What? No, Utah is next week. 

And as much as that costs it better be completely mindblowing when I've got this in my backyard:

Oh yeah, we also had another fatbike race on Saturday.  This one was on some trails I'm very familiar with at MTU. That, combined with the big ring on my Pugs (something a lot of fatbikes don't have) let me beat quite a few people who normally finish far ahead of me.  Sadly though, this was just an all out hammerfest, completely redlined the entire duration of the race, which kind of gets away from what I like about fatbiking.  But the organizers agree that throwing in some singletrack next year sounds like a good idea, so this race has some potential.  

That's what it means when I come in 47th at the Noquemanon Snowbike World Championships, right? 

So yeah, it's a good thing my folks came into town to say hi, otherwise I never would have made it past L'Anse. Apparently they got pounded with nearly 18" of snow the night before. 

What? No, I would not have skipped a bike race to go skiing!

I, um.... don't like to drive in the snow.  Yeah, that's it.  

But hey, it was cool to say hi to all the Marquette peeps and check out all the snowbikes.  Lots of stock Mukluks and Pugsleys, but also a lot of cool, customized rides. Even amongst the horribly uncool folks like like me without a totally custom setup, it's nearly impossible to find two bikes alike (check out my red cables, yo!) 

But hey, it's race start time- everybody line up! 

Now ok, I'll admit it. I'm not really very good at this snowbiking thing. I'm totally squirrelly. I spin out a lot. I go shooting across the trail in weird directions without warning. I like to crash a lot.  And I'm slow. Real slow. 

So I took a nice conservative spot towards the back and didn't dive into the melee at the start. Which is a good thing. Because we immediately started making sharp right turns before getting to a stretch of ungroomed soft snow.   Where we all had to jump off our bikes and start running....

...and running...

...and running... 

...I guess it's a bike race in that, yes- I am pushing my bicycle. Nobody ever said anything about riding it. 

There was one stretch that wasn't so bad, but man- nearly the entire first half of the course was basically unrideable. But hey, it was beautiful day, and we got to hikeabike past some stuff that looked like it might be good fun to come back and ski.

But then, finally- the course went from unrideable to perfectly groomed, nearly entirely downhill racetrack, packed in even more by the 50-odd people in front of me. 

Holy man. It's a good thing those ski trails are wide, I was going faster than I'd go on my mountain bike in the summer. I went flying past maybe 6 people in the last 7k and finished just behind a 7th for 47th out of 67 people.   And I thought I'd never use the big ring on my Pugs... 

Hung out at the finish hoping to score a new set of tires in the raffle, but no dice. Had a couple hours of daylight to kill on the way back home, so stopped off to check out a potential route into some new ski terrain we've been eyeing up and get my favorite kind of fatbiking in- exploring new territory while taking in the natural beauty of the UP.

First fatbike race, coming up this weekend!

And that's pretty much how I feel about. 

The concept of a contest of speed without irony on a fatbike is, well, rather comical.  But they sure are fun to ride in groups and it beats sitting inside. So that's why I do it. 

But it does not beat good skiing though.  Introduced a few friends to the secret Twin Lakes stash. They made it look easy.  





But I think I crossed some kind of skiing threshold this weekend.  This whole "season" I've been amped up like some kind of crack addict looking for a fix.

Dawn Patrol!
Scrape every last inch of powder off the local hill!
Backcountry tours!
XC skiing like it's a methadone hit!
SKI SKI SKI!
Ski 'til you DIE!

Saturday night, I barely had the energy left to drink a beer before hitting the sack at 9pm. And then getting up and skiing all day Sunday.

Well, the monkey has apparently been fed.

4-8" of heavy fresh snow last night and I went home and shoveled my roof like a motherfucking adult (well, OK- I forgot my kneepads).

Another 4-8" of lighter powder overnight and I wasn't racing out the door at 5am to dodge trees in the dark.

I raced out the door at 6am instead to get to work early so I can leave early (lifts don't start until 3pm anyway...).

Progress, not perfection.

Hola, amigos. What's up? I know it's been a long time since I rapped at ya, but things have been pretty crazy around Rancho BDB.

See, after my crash, the combination of lack of daylight and shitty weather was keeping me from getting out and doing much at all. The cabin fever set in bad. Worst case I've ever had in years.  On a trip downstate just before thanksgiving, I actually paid $80 for a new cassette for the Hoss just so I didn't miss an opportunity to ride Hanson Hills.  I was positively climbing the walls. I even booked a trip out to Utah for Feb. just so I had an opportunity to get out of the house to look forward to. 

Late November and early December continued the trend of crappy weather conditions. Never really made a complete transition from fall to winter. I was able to feed the monkey a bit by getting out on skate skis for some XC action, but honestly- I'm just not that excited about skate skiing anymore. Not really a whole lot of new things to explore or adventures to be had. It's always the same trails, all the time.   But damn, it's a hell of a workout. And the hills on the tech trails can be pretty fun when trying to tele-turn a pair of skate skis.  

But without any crazy weekend adventures, the cabin fever continued unabated.... 

Until a lot of my friends started buying fat bikes. I've always wanted a fat bike. Stuff like this and this and this do absolutely nothing to discourage me.  But the $1600 price tag always did.  

Well, after it became readily apparent we wouldn't have any good backcountry skiing until the end of December at best, I just decided to hell with it. I would get a fatbike, no matter the cost.

Conveniently, a friend was upgrading to an even fatter bike and had a barely used one for sale. Still the most expensive bike I've ever purchased, but much less than $1600. 

And let me tell you, if you ride bikes off pavement at all and have any taste for adventure riding- go buy one NOW.  Don't make excuses, rationalizations, or what have you. It's a real game changer for winter exploration. Stuff that has been out of reach during the winter is now accessible. And plus they're just silly fun to ride no matter what.  

In the past few weeks we've been riding the bandit snowmobile trails around Calumet, the XC skiing and snowmobile trails of the Porcupine Mountains, doing 30 mile treks along the edges of the Huron Mountains and even riding up (mostly) frozen rivers in Duluth. 

Crazy, crazy fun. I almost don't even care that the backcountry skiing has been almost non existent as of late.  

 


 


 


 


 

With LSPR behind me, I was finally getting back into my fitness groove.  Backcountry skiing is tough, in that it requires good lungs and the ability to bounce off things well, so going into the season in good shape is really important.  

I won't delve too deep into it, but man... the rally is just killing me this year. 

So I was really, really looking forward to a weekend off to head over to Duluth to race 100 miles of the Minnesota Arrowhead's finest gravel  in this year's Heck of the North. 

This summer though, I finally dialed in the perfect rack setup on the ol' Jake and I'm reluctant to strip it down for 'cross season and gravel road racing again. I've got a Salsa Fargo frame waiting to get built up, but funding has not been approved as of yet. So I did the rational thing and threw some drop bars on my single speed mountain bike. Sure, I have all of two 'cross races under my belt with this setup, but all my fellow alt/hipster, beer swilling, beard sporting, single speed riders agree, it's a pretty sweet setup. So it must be perfect for a gravel road race.  Did I mention I left the 32x17 gearing on it? And the 29x2.55 tires?  This not unlike entering a rally in a one ton diesel truck on 44" super swampers. And then leaving the transfer case in low range.... 

The start went well, if you call "well" getting completely and utterly dropped.  Hard. Seems 32x17 ain't much good for anything above 15mph.  But who cares? It's a beautiful day on the north shore of Superior in prime color season.  Why rush through it? 

I was having a grand old time, kibitzing with my fellow riders, enjoying the day, and then we hit the first snowmobile trail section.  The Heck is unique amongst gravel road races in that it throws in these 1 mile sections that are damn near impossible to ride through completely.  But my monstercross setup could ride a lot more than most people, and faster too!  So I found myself passing a lot of people.  Hoo boy, looks like I'm racing. 

After that first snowmobile section, I made my big bad decision. I found myself riding with a couple of guys, pushing 16-17mph. Definitely on the high end of my cadence abilities, but manageable.  Or so it seemed. 

So I came screaming into the halfway checkpoint with them and suddenly realized what I had done.  My legs felt like lead. No other way to describe it. I've never had my legs feel like this. I could still mash, but just couldn't get them to spin at any decent cadence. 

So for the next 35 miles or so, I was kind of riding my own ride. Doing the recovery thing. Singing to myself. Have you seen the new Powderwhores trailer? As per usual, I like the song. In this case, "Bugs" by O'Death. Which means I watched their video.   



Which is kind of creepy.  And seems to be shot someplace along the Heck of the North course.  I was always half expecting one of these weird woods people to be standing back in the trees as I rode past. 

But the next person I saw was my teammate, Bruce at about mile 90. I sort of dropped him for a little bit, but realized I had nothing to really try and prove in this race.  Singlespeed with a low gear had kicked my ass hard and merely finishing was something to be happy about.  So I rode (and walked up Pleasant View Road- man, that road was not named by a bicyclist!) the last few miles in with him to the finish. 

Oddly enough, I finished 15 minutes earlier than last year. 

The Heck continues to be my favorite gravel road race ever.  Just can't beat the setting and some of the unique challenges of it. It's a tough time of year for me fitness wise with work and rally responsibilities, so it's a real challenge too. But now I'm intrigued by this single speed thing. I wonder what I could do with a bigger gear?  

162 (actually, 157) miles of southeast Minnesota gravel roads.

90 people thought it was a good idea this winter to sign up for this.

Given the forecast for rain and cold on race day, only 57 folks showed up at registration.

Only 25 managed to cross the finish line. 

I was the last to do so before the "official" cut-off time of 15 hours.

Now, I'm sure there was a great reason I signed up for this. Probably something about fitness, health and personal accomplishment fit for the cheery pages of "Bicycling" magazine or somesuch. 

Those folks of the same mindset probably did the sensible thing and stayed at home and rode their trainers. 

Only those with darker, ulterior motives found themselves in the parking lot of the Spring Valley high school parking lot at 7am on a cold rainy morning. The usual, lighthearted, startline banter was kept to a minimum. These men and women were here to commit unspeakable acts against man, machine and soul in hopes of finding just where their breaking point was. 

And many did. 

I love when success or failure in a race is decided not by how many hours I trained, or how crisp and clean my new whiz-bang gruppo shifts, but by things like keeping my route instructions from disintegrating in the rain and how many pieces of pizza I can shove in my mouth at once. 

Thankfully, I've actually endured worse conditions on the back of a motorcycle of all things, so I was able to stay pretty positive through the whole event. As long as I kept moving, I stayed warm. Quitting actually became too complicated of an option after the last major city at mile 60. It would mean having to find shelter, making contact with my teammate who hopefully finished his 100 mile ride, and organizing transportation back to the start.  No, it was just easier to keep the pedals turning over and plodding down the course. 

This race became especially tough as I essentially had to do the entire thing solo. There was no drafting to help me through the cold winds. Everybody near the back of the pack was dropping out of the race. I saw all of two riders during the last 100 miles.

I finished out the last 10 miles in the dark, 17 minutes shy of the official cut off time of 15 hours.

Of course, the problem I face now is this- I still haven't found my limit. I've still never DNFed a race. What do I do next?

My legion of fanS (Yes, it's plural now!) have been demanding an update. With less writing and more pictures. 

So yes, I did finish out the tour. Riding through the Traverse City area reminded me of all the reasons I stayed in the UP. I cut the trip back up through WI a bit short as it was pretty hot, and this being my 3rd time on the same route, I was getting a little bored of it.  All in all, another great tour though. I could do this for the rest of my life if I had too. More pictures here.


But then it was back to racing...

The 2010 UP State Singlespeed Championships went pretty well. I had a sprint to the finish to come in just behind last year's UP State singlespeed champion.  I still really like the Deer Chase. It's probably the only MTB race I really do anymore for the racing.
 

Somewhere in there, I started organizing a team for the upcoming Gentlemen's Ride in MN the next month.  One of my teammates came over to the UP to do some riding with me and we rode from my house down to Eagle River, WI for the Central ADV Rally. We stuck with mostly gravel roads on the way down and it turned into quite the adventure- what with the moose encounter, and finishing out the last 20 miles in the dark on a sandy two track with minimal lighting.  We took surprisingly little crap for showing up at a motorcycle rally in spandex trousers on bicycles. As always, a hell of a party. The hangover was mostly gone by the time I finished the 100 mile grind back north.  At least I fared better than the two guys who woke up at the campground literally days after the rally ended concluding an epic bender.
 


After that it was off to Fat Tire up in copper harbor.  Weather was a little crappy this year, so I neglected to ride up and also skipped out on the Super D the day before leaving the title of Central Upper Northern Midwest But Not Wisconsin Touring/XC/Downhill title up for grabs. Sadly, there were no contenders so my title is still safe.  I showed up with my 29er, did the long race and felt I did pretty good, but I was just kind of reminded that the better I get at XC MTB racing, the more I seem to dislike it.  I love riding single track, but racing on it just seems to suck the fun out of it. You're either going too fast trying to make time, or too slow because some doofus is in front of you. Then you're stuck racing like a total tool just to maintain your position when you can. It's quickly becoming not worth it anymore.  Thankfully, Fat Tire has a great party afterwards and that's always fun....

I think cyclocross started shortly thereafter.  And, well... I still love CX, but with my move to "Eh" class, things didn't go as well.  A bunch of other guys made the jump as well, but the racing just wasn't the same. Our little pack was totally broken up and a lot of the fun of CX was missing.  I did run one race in the "Bees", gave it my all and still came in fourth with some great racing. I hate any semblance of sandbagging, but it's not like I'm waltzing up to the podium if I move back in 2011.  We'll see....


The we had the Gentemen's Ride, a rendition of the Almanzo 100 that must be completed as a team of four riders. I recruited one of my imaginary internet motorcycle friends and a couple of my teammates and had a pretty good time on this. The slightly slower pace allowed me to enjoy the course more and I think I made a few converts to gravel road racing as well. 

Shortly thereafter was the Heck of the North, another gravel road race in Duluth, MN.  Absolutely, stunningly, beautiful course right in peak color season on the North Shore of MN.  Too bad my fitness level wasn't up to the challenge. The start was a little rough and it took me a while to find my rhythm. I eventually pulled through with a respectable finish, but I'm looking forward to getting back in 2011 for revenge. Gotta get a plug in here for the cool folks that run the Gardenwood resort just north of Duluth. Great hosts for the weekend!

And that kind of finished us out... Honestly, I was getting pretty anxious for ski season.

Day 3: Seney to St. Igance, 100 miles

Day 2: Nestoria almost all the way to Seney: 120 miles

I awoke well rested and still rather full of fish and Old Milwaukee from the night before, so hit the road and belted out a quick 30 miles before stopping for breakfast in Champion at "François' Cafe" where I was immediately greeted by a wide open door. In fact, it wasn't so much wide open as falling of the hinges.  This did give me an opportunity to learn the local pronunciation of "François" when a waitress told another "Hey, give Frankie a call and let him know the door fell off the restaurant".

"Super Dave" was already on the case and fully removing the faulty door from the closing mechanism and setting it aside. Dave is one of those people that you really only get an opportunity to meet when you're riding a bicycle. His Trek was parked next to the restaurant as well and he's the type of person you can only refer to as "a character".  He asked about my trip and told several stories of his own about some serious long distance tours and his racing exploits.  Very cool guy, I see his Trek parked in front of Frankie's from time to time and should check in. 

Besides, and I'll just go ahead and ruin the build up of one of the central themes of this trip when I say that Frankie's has some of the best blueberry pancakes ever.  They managed to walk the fine line between a slightly crispy without being greasy outside with a light and fluffy inside. Well done and perfectly executed.  Even if I wasn't carrying my usual reserve of pure maple syrup.

I used several chunks of the Iron Ore Heritage Trail to navigate the Ishpeming/Negaunee/Marquette area. Cool trail through some really interesting old town and mining ruins. And certainly beat trying to navigate the highways in this area.

I picked up M-94 south of Marquette and came across another sight that you really only notice when on a bike. I've probably driven by the sign 50 times and never given it a second thought. Turns out to be an interesting historical anecdote.

In Chatham, I stumbled across the annual Chatham Country Fair which was going full tilt when I arrived. I immediately took advantage of the opportunity to fill up on healthful foodstuffs such as Funnel Cakes, Elephant Ears, and Walking Tacos. I spent a while hanging out by the tractor pull, but honestly- this old Farmall had everybody pretty much beat on the slick turf from last night's rain. 

Lots of other cool stuff to check out too:

I pressed on with the intention of camping or maybe grabbing a hotel room in Munising, but just outside of Munising something odd was happening. 

See, usually when you cyclotour in rural areas people just think you're weird and sometimes go so far as to question your upbringing, employment status, and even sexual orientation while using colorful metaphors yelled from swiftly moving pickups. Outside of Munising though, people were giving me a wide berth on the road, and even waving at me.  The familiar buzz of oversize BFG Mud Terrains preceding the cloud of diesel exhaust was conspicuously absent.

It was seriously weirding me out. 

Once I got to Munising, I found the town was booked- 100%. Not even a tent space at the overpriced KOA nor a manger was to be had.  It was then that I figured things out when I started noticing all the "26.2" stickers.  I was amongst my peoples: retarded endurance sports junkies.  Marathoners, in this instance. 

With no options for stopping in Munising, I pushed on towards the Seney Stretch. For those unfamiliar with it, it's a long, straight, flat section of M-28.  25 miles. Perfectly flat. And perfectly straight.  

Traffic was light, so I amused myself with my camera. 

Just shy of the rest area, I found a large, open field and set up camp for the night. With setting sun and wildflowers in bloom, it made for one of my best camping nights on a bike tour yet.