147: who said that yellow was a gender neutral color?

Went on a little ride with a man called leg breaker and a man called Rotten. Bad men they are. I am shattered.

Perhaps semi-retirement is not so good for the form? They were on me like a bad suit. Pretty much 20 minutes into the ride we were cruising across a section of slick, slimy roots. I was thinking about them as devil's fingers, and how I pride myself in being able to ride such technical features, and how challenging they are. Thinking, "man, we are bad asses..."

I commented to Rotten, "I felt set free from the ultra-stable yet hard to turn and no carving provided by the bastard son/ moped, with the ability to carve and flow again on big black I am having a lot of fun. " No sooner did I blurt out the words, then I found myself on the ground. The thing about slick, slimy, devil's fingers roots, is that it takes nothing to throw a no talent hack like me on the ground.

instant karma kills ego every time. Nice little hipper. I had another picture but you could see my wiener and my really hairy ass. This is still a rated R blog thank you.

I kept waiting to hear Rotten say, "so how you like your freedom now bitch?"

in this video Rachel works a v3+, I tell monkey to move, and Buddy just looks good.

what the fuck is a mach 6? Memo to big time movie directors, don't mess with the basic mythology. Geeks like me get really offended. I mean how do you kill off Professor X and Cyclops. Shameful.








Proper mental attitude is essential for success in mountain bike racing. Start by moping around the house. Next check the internet to see if the race was cancelled. Begrudgingly head off to race.
And then win. Simple formula.

or you could be like me and just quit.



Well done my friend, well done.

Finally, Granogue is closing in fast. Register now. As you may not know we will donate at least $1 for every racer entered to the Hera Women's Cancer Foundation. You can enter a raffle to win cool stuff, and help a great cause. Raffle drawings at The Granogue race, you do not have to be present to win.



But you should, be cause the race rules, and you know you can say hi to me. And my friend Brent is coming. If you buy a raffle ticket, Brent will sign any of your twin six merchandise. Really. I promise.


fucking Mach 6. What is that!?



respect
faticus

146: eye

The weather man forested 50% chance of rain. Which also meant a 50% chance of ride. Those of us working our tails off to get Granogue groomed and ready for race day would congratulate ourselves with a few laps of our course.

Sure enough as I drove through Montechain, the skies opened up as one of those spring showers that enables everything to turn green and come alive, pounded the estate. As I parked, I looked up the hill to see Buddy the leg breaker, E-town, Papa Smurf, and Jebbagger rolling in from a lap. They were wet, but smiling ear to ear.

The spring shower quickly past, as I along with Wes t. Conqueror, Dennisbike, F-Rich, Green Trek John (on a bologna bianchi), Breyla-la and BLElizabeth, joined up the original group and we headed back out for a lap.

For me Granogue has always been one of the most challenging places to ride. The combination of quick punchy climbs, gratuitous roots, and loose rocky sections, just lead to a very unique set of trails. The fact that the trails are rarely open, never really gives you a chance to totally get the place dialled in. The course has a natural flow and looseness to it, which can be deceiving. It's very easy to gather a good head of steam as you rip through a nice section, only to realize all too quickly you're in over your head ripping through a technical section. Panicked you quickly find yourself white knuckled, and reaching for the brakes.

Last night the addition of a spring shower made the roots that much more slimy, the corners that much more challenging, and the rock gardens, and roll ins that much scarier. It was pretty damn perfect. Granogue is a special place normally, tonight it was borderline magical.

The fact that much of the trail system is off camber, requires another level of understanding, skill, and patience that is not quickly learned or faked by bigger wheels or full suspension.

Bombing through the trails with this group of riders: all very proficient- all folks I have a lot of respect for, I felt as thought my timing was off, as if the angel on my left shoulder was saying, "you're pushing the edge there faticus..." My angel continued as I struggled across a off camber field section almost planting myself into a hedge row, "Danger! Danger! back off..."

The demon on my right shoulder chirped away, "push the envelop, this is what you live for, stand on the pedals boy..."

Despite my knowing better, despite the fact that crashing tonight and getting hurt would but an text book case of bad judgment, I drove on with this amazing group carving the estate's trails up.

At the end of our loops, I smiled, and wiped the dirt out of my eyes off my face. I felt tired, but refreshed, hungry but satisfied, any angst I may have had with the world- past.

A small group of us ended the day sharing a burrito and a laugh. It was a perfect ending to a pretty damn perfect day.

New Henry's Kits came in. They look great, but something's funny about Jeb's collar:

Freaking PIMP. 14 year old pimp...

respect

faticus

145: Goat

I live in Cecil County, Md. If I was to ride my bike out of my garage within a 5 mile radius of my house I can find at least 5 homes that have confederate flags on on their front steps. I'm all for a persons right to express themselves, but folks it's the year 2008. It's time to move on.

But I digress, in my county, which is really is a pretty nice place to live, I accept that if a few of my neighbors still fly old Dixie, that getting curbside recycling is going to be almost impossible.

Yeah, so me just trying to do my part, I of course recycle. This means hauling multiple containers of bottles, cans, and other recyclable material up to where I work in Southern Chester County, where there are a number of recycling stations to drop my material.

I have to be honest that I'm always worried about getting pulled over after dropping off my recycling. You see the bulk of my recyclable material is beer bottles. After the drop my car smells a bit like your favorite bar after closing on Saturday night. Oh, no not the nice place you go now, but the dive you used to go to in your early twenties, you know where you showed up at midnight, and tried to see how many rounds you could squeeze in before the bar closed at 1:00. I can't remember the last time I closed a bar...

There I go digressing again. If I got pulled over, I'd get drug down town pretty fast. "have you been drinking son?" the officer would say. "No, sir" I'd reply, "then why do you smell like a brewery boy? Out of the car long hair, your goose is cooked!"

and seriously, stone sober I can't say the alphabet backwards. I'd be totally fucked.

been missing Rotten Rob and liz , who have been a world travelers of late. Saw some guy at the climbing gym Monday night with a scruffy beard, shaggy hair, and a mandana, and I had to do a double take to make sure it wasn't Rotten. I was meandering around Middle Run , and saw a bunch of folks I hadn't seen in a while, including Ted Logic. I came upon the FU in FUn ride, and lo and behold who's sitting 2nd wheel That's right good ole rotten!

After my ride, I was heading home when I saw this:

yup, someone walking their goat. I'd like to say this was in Cecil County, but alas it was not.

Meandering on the bike went well , although I couldn't hang on the FU in Fun ride. I heart my bike.

Tonight is half priced nacho night!

respect.

faticus

144: thundercats are go!

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth."

Saturday morning was spent with a good crew of folks working in the Granogue course. Lots of raking, and bridge building, and trimming. All good stuff that help to make this race as special as it is. Even for those of us that have only been able to do the race twice in the some 9 or 12 years of the race, the juice is still worth the squeeze. Thanks to everyone who gave up their time to help work on the course. Granogue is coming together nicely. Will you be there?

after putting in some quality work time, we put in some quality play time:

C3-Sollay teammate Cruella on the roll in.

International Man of Mystery, Les Leach makes Fitzy's delight look easy:

In the past the knock on Green Trek John (on his bologna bianchi) was that he had a huge motor but not so great bike handling skills. On Fitzy's delight, one of the toughest sections of Granogue, John shows how far he has come.

Dennisbike is one of the original bad asses in our region. He defines well rounded cyclist, excelling in each discipline he has tackled. People talk about local legends. To me he is the epitome. Even more than his riding is how much he gives back to the community, from his photos to the time donated at countless races, to the wisdom his passes down to saps like me. Watch him eat this up.

Sunday, saw me grabbing Jebbager out of bed and throwing him in the back of the toaster.

"get in the car long hair!!!"

We ended up at French Creek meeting JDub, Joel (every time I hang out with this guy I like him more), Chappy, Baggy Short Dan, Sanford and son, Mike, Brey la-la, Wheelie Ted, Andrea, and a couple other folks I'm sure I missing. Jeff tried to poison us by over lubing his chain before we left. The car stunk of pro-chain lube, and almost asphyxiated us both. At French Creek, one of my favorite places to ride, We left with a big group, but shortly trimmed down to a little more manageable number.

French Creek is such an amazing place to ride, so different from my normal diet. I was loving the rocks, and carving the trails. Considering how poorly I have been riding the rock gardens at B-wine lately, I was pretty stoked with my ride today. It was pretty outstanding.

On the way out of the park, Jeb practically passed out. I'm guessing 4 hours with Slick Rik Saturday, and our nice tour today took a little out of the guy. He sure as hell didn't show it on the bike. Thanks to Bike Line crew for letting a couple of crossers sit in.

" I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood,

and I--I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference."

Brian, Jeb's dad also has realized the aerodynamic benefits of lycra when cutting the grass.

respect.

faticus

(poem by frost.)

243: my mind is a ramblin'

So I have never won raffle, a football pool, a 50/50 or any random kind of fundraiser where a charity benefits and I have a shot to win some coin. Truth is when I enter these things I kinda do it with the auspices that it's really just a donation to a cause I believe in.

Well, at work when ever one of the women folk get pregnant they have a pool. Basically you throw in $5, pick a date and a time and let it rip. Well, one of the ladies was expecting, I threw my $5 in the hat. I asked her what her due date was, and that was my entry.

I mean, since I don't have any kids, and I don't have any expertise in the art of birthing babies or predicting anything related to babies I figured if a REAL expert gave a date that was as good as gold to me. And being that I never win these things, I tell the young woman, "look kiddo, if I win you keep my half of the pot. Think of it as my gift to the little bambino!" I figured it was a nice jesture, and clearly, I never win these things, no worries.

Sure enough the pot hits 300 beans, sure enough the baby comes on the due date, and I was the only one that picked it. Kinda like the guys who choose $1 on the price is right and wins. Lame, but he gets to go to the showcase. For the first time in my life, I win one of these things. $150 left on the table, and I gave it away. I stood by my word, and let the kid keep it.

Truth be told, I was stoked to donate it to the little one, I mean she might get some clothes or something out of it, what am I gonna do? Buy pedals or drink it or something. Besides, I'm hoping I score some Karma points or something. I didn't even tell anyone about the puppy I rescued off of main street last week... My karma has to be getting better.

Tuesday night I did the road ride with the boys. Having E-town along helped to bolster my confidence, and I must say I felt like I rode freakishly well. I paid for my indiscretions tonight as my legs were pretty tired. The problem is the Niner just likes to go, and I kept telling myself to back off, but it just rips through single track. The bike just helps me flow. I'd find myself suffering flying through a section, and have to tell myself to back off. Clearly my bike is too fast for me.

Trail day for Granogue Saturday, maybe some changes to the course, maybe not. We'll know more Saturday afternoon. you should register.

I was kinda jonesing for a ride tonight, despite the yard looking like a jungle. Thankfully Monkey knocked out most of it cutting the yard whilst I was playing in the woods. When I got back from my tour of Fairhill, I just hopped on the mower to get the tight spots that Monkey missed. Daylight was fading fast, no time to change back into my secret identity as mild mannered customer service manager...

any wonder my neighbors think we are insane?

respect.

faticus

242: the "real" sunday ride

Spent some time up at Granogue doing some scouting and trail work this morning with Buddy the keg breaker, (i)Paul, and international man of mystery, Les Leach.

We rushed over to the JCC to meet up with Mr. Gavigan Death Trail himself. Gavigan had best in show, and another dude with him. We had a nice group, and then after riding the Gavigan Death Trail, we met up with another group and a pretty big posse going. The group was suffering from a bit of large group paralysis, so International Man of mystery, Les Leach made the call, and we slipped off of the back of the group by ourselves. The next 2 hours were filled with some amazing single track riding. I don't think anyone knows B-wine like Les. I struggled a bit in the big rock garden, I was a little disappointed with that, but made a couple of logs I had not made before. My pedals are really sussed out, and I did a couple of unintentional one footers. That's hard on the confidence for sure.

got home and took a big ole nap. I was pretty happy with that.

All in all a pretty spectacular day if you ask me.

Buddy's flat bar's are giving him some trouble on the geared bike.

he prefers the old TV antenna style.

Paul made a new friend while changing a flat.

While I'm enjoying a spring time semi-retirement, I was stoked to hear of so many friends doing well and qualifying for the Nationals today at Greenbriar. Props to Coach for taking a 2nd in the single speed race.

In closing, I had a nice conversation with Peaches this weekend. He brought up the point that the DCCoD really needs to stop carrying Wes. I mean, last year it was Peaches carrying the load at Cranky Monkey, while Wes sat in and collected another W. This time it was poor little Jeb carrying the load, as Wes got to collect another win down at the Baker's Dozen....

yeah, we both laughed out loud at that one...

four days in a row rolling on the new frame. She's a keeper for sure.

respect.

faticus

241: bittersweet

breaking up is hard to do.

I knew going into this relationship that it was going to be short term, a fling or an affair if you must. The fact that it lasted as long as it did was amazing. We were coming from two very different places, but the attraction was definitely mutual. At first it was very rocky, you know early dating stuff, awkward first embraces, and learning what makes each other tick.

That first time we went all the way, it was difficult to say the least. Just so different from my normal tastes, and likes. But sure enough, with time and practice, we hit it off and really built a solid bond. During our run together she took me places that no one had ever taken me before. And it was amazing. When I think about some of the stuff we did, I still feel a perm-a-grin plaster across my face. I mean how could I not smile. I know she tried to change for me, lost weight, and a new rack. Me, I gained strength from our relationship, and really learned how to be flexible, and change gears when needed.

But in the end, you have give love for what it is, not what it could be, or what it could become. She excelled in the open, and liked to stay between the lines, I tend to be more liberal, and prefer flowing through things more. As I said at the start, I always new this affair would be brief,

and I can't make her be something that she isn't. So I will set her free. A bit of bittersweet joy,

as my new Niner came in today, and my gary fisher, also know as the bastard child, was retired.

Isn't black simply sexy...

be gentle with me...

respect

faticus

240:

I am sitting at my desk after the baker’s dozen. By all accounts, the race was a glowing success for the coalition. We raced hard, we brought home the bacon, and had our teams in the thick of things through out the day.

I’ll admit it my memories of the race are dark. E-town was not having a great day, he really had to dig deep into his bag of courage to get through this. 5th place for he and Auer, was a strong performance, despite many challenges. I have raced with Buddy for god I can’t even remember how many of these things, and I remember sitting with him around 9pm and him just starring into space. He said to me, “ I don’t know if I can keep this up…”

I have never heard him utter a word like that, even though I know that he, with is partner BLRich would push through for a strong 8th place. I watched myself bark at my wife as she told me she thought she’d have to take the last lap likely at 11:59pm. My teammate Rik looked exhausted, and tired. I think to myself, “jesus, what have I done to these people, I’m yelling at my wife, she’s riding her best, Rik had gotten away from this, and I, I brought him back in…”
I see my friends, my family laying on the ground suffering trying to get some food in their stomachs to stick. Everyone is trying to get something to power the effort we are putting forth. Wes’s grime covered face, and sheer exhaustion at the finish line. Tom’s lost dazed look as he wandered around the course. “this is a recovery lap” he said to L-Web before leaving.

The course itself, was not that difficult. Smooth fast single track, that was fun to rip, with some rocky sections. You ride over a clump of rocks, around a clump of rocks, through two large boulders. But overall the course was brutally fast, no sections to just glide and roll, no time off the gas. It was attacking, pedaling, pushing the entire time.

Jeff was hurting, a little after 10:00 he had lost his stomach. Gu’s and Gatorade, any solid food had become kryptonite to him. The ever jovial duo of Wheelie Ted and Breyla la had grim determination in their eyes. As defending champions, they were in a battle and trailing by 18 minutes as the sun had set. Doyle Rules, who regularly abuses everyone at this campsite on the toughest of hills, and on the hardest of rides, seemed to incessantly moan and whine. He was hurting like I suspect he had never hurt before. At about 10:15, sitting in a huddle of my friends and teammates, I think to myself, “this is fun? Why the hell are we doing this?” Here I see all my friends looking like death, sunken eyes, veins popping out of legs, grimy faces, and just tired, worn out people.
Dark thoughts parade around my head, as my arms and back still throb with pain. Despite drinking as much water as I could get down after the race, my urine looks like it should be lighting up a neon sign saying “eat at joes.”

The coalition has gotten very good at the team endurance race game. We know how to stratagize. we know how to prepare, we know how hard it is to just finish one of these events, let alone dream of winning. As I looked around the campsite seeing my friends in agony, I question why.

I will admit to you, that at the end, when our plan came to fruition, when the object of my spring focus was over, I did not feel exhilaration, or a rush of excitement, I felt relief. For years, I would always cry when one of these things was over. The tally on me, on my soul was that great, the emotional and physical demand of the race was too much and would regularly leave me balled up somewhere on the ground, crying for joy that it was over, crying out of pride of what we were able to accomplish. These are so hard.

This time, I shed no tears, only felt relief. Relief that the pain was over, relief that we had survived another of these things. I swore right then that these team endurance races are the stupidest thing we ever do, and I for one, am done.

Once again I had look around our compound, and the faces that just two hours ago were long and broken, seemed to have perked up, some are even smiling. Some beers are shared, as well as pizza eating techniques. It could be described as a small celebration.

We’ve done it again, pushed ourselves, our relationships, our trust, our abilities to the brink, for no other reason than we can. I believe that we are all stronger for it.

At lunch today, I stopped by Henry’s to share some of our pirates treasure with truck stop gavigan, the mechanic for this group last weekend. At the shop, I found Rik, Lauri, and Tom. We all complained of hurting, but laughed and smiled about our experience. We talked about how much we loved the venue, how fast the course was, and shared racing stories with each other. Later, I caught up with Buddy, who was all smiles. We shared more stories, and talked about how much we missed Peaches this weekend. It’s never the same without peaches, next year my friend, next year…

Finally, I understood why we had done it, why we’ll do it again. The experiences, the friendships built in the crucible of pain that is these endurance races, are strong. You know no matter how shattered Rik, Buddy, or I am, we won’t quit, we’ll keep driving, we won’t let our teammates, our friends, our brothers and sisters down. I find that much like Napoleon Dynamite, when you are experiencing it, it may not be that fun, but talking about it, it feels like the greatest movie ever made. The suffering is great, but in the end, these events are always worth it. Scheming about next year has already begun.

Perhaps when I think my soul has finally turned black, and I am at the end of my rope, I am wrong, there is light, hope springs eternal…

respect

faticus