Stokesville Mountainbike Festival

Dear Readers,

Our good friend Kita recently traveled to the Stokesville Mountainbike Festival and had an amazing time. She was kind enough to do write up about her experience. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

A few years ago I bought my first bike and asked a client from my shop starts showing me some trails. I quickly discovered Mountainbiking is hard and I have no idea what I am doing. It's also apparent, that there is no lineage of athletic superstars in my family. No ounce of inherent or natural coordination or skill. 

It was incredibility fun and challenging which is perhaps what kept me coming back for more in the first few months of black and blue bruises I earned from mistakes made and lessons learned while winding my way through the trails of Fair Hill or the rolling loop of Lums. There was nothing about this that I could learn from a book - it was all a hard earned discovery of something I never knew I was able to do. It wasn’t easy, didn’t come to me overnight, and still bites at me over how far I am not, but it’s for all of these reasons that I clip back in every time. The desire is there to grow better every time, to put your head down and pedal is born.

Photo: kita

A few years go by and I find myself loving all that is bikes and am trying to put effort in, pin down some goals, and grow some skills. I get to hear stories that inspire me of regular weekend rides and epic undertakings. If you know Buddy Briggs, you only have to listen to one of his stories of a place to want to take on the challenge of a new terrain with the way he talks about every second of trail. When he mentioned the Stokesville Mountain Biking Festival after the tales of his Shenandoah 100 rides, I was all in. I put my head down and road a little more with a new target.

photo: Laura Graziano Farabaugh

On the ride down in a camper loaded with bikes, beer, and food, I got to listen to Ben and Buddy talk about rides, races, and memories and I started to worry that I had taken too big a bite. I thought that maybe I was chasing trails that I wasn’t yet prepared for as the terrain outside the window grew lush, green, and more real. We arrived and hit the trails as soon as we had a place set up to hang out bikes.

The short loop around the campground gave a great taste of what was to come. Swooping berms, a few rocks, and a climb out and around the tents to start it all over again. I wasn’t in Kansas any more and already Buddy and Ben were chomping and I was racing to keep up. The trails were swift, fun, but different in so many way. It was going to be a killer weekend.

Photo:Buddy the leg breaker

Rides divided up after group breakfast on Saturday and I took to the trails with a new group of women to test out Narrowback and Tillmans - both of which did not disappoint - and I was pleased to discover that I could hang pretty well out there in the mountains.

Photo: Kita

photo: Kita

Sunday I had ambitions of a longer more challenging ride than the day before and grouped up with Bill, Laura, and Jill of the Henry’s Team. We climbed up the road to for Lookout to the Wild Oaks Trails where I stuck on Laura’s wheel over trails foreign to me. The long climb up quickly taught me these weren’t the punchy mashable hills of home and made me spin for what felt like forever. Once cresting over the top, the jagged rocks forced me to loosen my grip and roll with the bike downward back towards camp. This was mountain biking. It’s what it is meant to be. It’s suffering more than you knew you could to cramp and smile all at the same time. It’s obscenities yelled at Mother Nature herself for the splendor and effort she has laid out before you. It is getting to the top and feeling like you beat something inside of you that you didn’t know was holding you back. It is knowing you can rise to the challenge again.

Photo: Bill Batchelor

It was exhilarating. I was slow and yet I road technical things I would have never considered back home. I was faster than I thought it parts and a few times my Garmin politely beeped to remind me I was standing still despite what felt like all I had to get over the crest of a ledge.  I crashed pretty well off twice causing the ride back to be a little uncomfortable. At the bottom, I thanked my friends for their combined patience with me and settled in for a few moments to myself. The ride was by no means the experienced smooth ride that you guys are used to seeing on this blog. But it was my ride. And I am damned proud of it. More proud than I have ever been of a ride. I was broken for the day, but I wasn’t defeated.

Photo: Bill Batchelor

It wasn’t just about the trails I conquered that day, it was about the stories shared back at camp of all the rides that went out that day or in years past, about the stories that everyone had. It was the successes and the crashes of all of us we shared as a community, as a family. It was lining up at dinner with strangers to quickly find are friends through association and want to just chat about the same thing. It was not one kind of ride, but all of them, for everyone. Groups going out strangers and pushing one another through. It was new friends over bourbon and mud covered laughter while waiting for showers. It was the core of what the mountain biking community has been to me actualized.

I left one day 5 years ago on a ride with people I barely knew and came back with a tribe. Stokesville is that community, together for the love of riding and Chris and his team have done an amazing job of cultivating it.

Stokesville Mountain Biking Festival left me bruised and sore, but it also left me grinning from ear to ear, stoking a bike high that has me already daydreaming at work of the next adventure.

an evening of bad decisions

Dear Readers,

After a few robust weeks of riding, I had planned to take a couple rest days to reap the benefits of this riding. That recovery included heading to the local skate park on Monday. Sunday afternoon, the skies opened up and drenched the world. The kind folks at the weather channel had forecasted down pours all day for Monday. The park just wasn't going to happen. I grabbed my skateboard and headed to the basement.

After about 30 minutes of moving junk around, throwing out an old Christmas tree, stashing my converted TT bike, and an honest to god original PRO-FLEX mountain-bike frame, I cleared just enough space so I had a spot to move around.

I thought to myself - "self, you cleared this space, you should test it out." I spent the next half hour dorking around in the basement- doing slides, little ollies, and much to my amazement, I almost figured out a 180 no comply.

I was having a blast and smiling ear to ear.

I called Diane down:  She smiled at me shaking her head at me. She asked  "is this your evening of bad decisions? "  She continued, "you're in the basement, wearing slippers, and no helmet skateboarding." She smiled at me.

I agreed, "Okay Okay, I should probably have had shoes on and my helmet, but check this out! this is totally cool: "



She smiled, an I called it a night.

Thankfully, the folks over at weather.com were wrong, and the morning was beautiful. I had a blast at the park, and had a beautiful  time. Here's 45 seconds of it, were I look remotely in control!





Thanks for reading.

respect
Vanderbacom

Bad Art and Weirdo Ideas

Dear Readers,

Today was beautiful...

photo credit: Monk - Rombach not pictured...

I starting riding with Joe Bothell in 2012. He has been one of my favorite people to ride and train with since the spring of that year. I have enjoyed watching Joe develop and become one of the best Masters Mountain Bike racers in the Mid Atlantic. The dude was also a mainstay in the top ten of mid atlantic cross, and pretty much crushed my soul all last season.

 Joe has recently been relocated and will be leaving for Dallas soon. Our community's loss, Texas's gain for sure. I'll miss talking smack, and riding with Joe. I'm hoping to still get his texted race reports after Dallas Cross starts up!

Today, I had a chance to ride with Joe, Dennis, Monk, Rombach and Featherman around White Clay and Middle run. I know I won't get too many more chances to ride with Joe, I didn't want to let this one go.

Rombach, Joe and Featherblog

The ride was a blast as Monk drove it hard around the park. I am finishing up a robust 3 weeks of riding and was feeling like I was just finishing up a robust 3 weeks of riding. I yelled up to Monk who was cracking the whip, "Monk, I must have said something to piss you off at breakfast, whatever it was I'm sorry can you please stop ripping off my legs?"

The trails were in perfect condition, and we navigated around the park. It was warm, and slightly overgrown, and just perfect. We carved the trails flowing around the park. We laughed, talked about call ups, crossresults.com, and bitched about our weight, and getting old. It was wonderful.

title stolen from Beach Slang. You should go here to check out more Bad Art and Weirdo Ideas.

I totally blame Schieken, Taylor and Elliot for my newest music obsession....

thanks for that guys.

thanks for reading.

respect

faticus

Totally Unofficial Mid Atlantic Cross Dates #crossiscoming

Dear Readers,

In a former promoter life, one of the roles I had in the local cross scene was trying to coordinate the schedules between the various series, and try to limit conflicts between races. The goal was to try and build the best comprehensive Mid Atlantic Cross Schedule. Most of the time, it was a pleasure working with the race directors, and although some folks weren't happy with having to shift dates, in the end most promoters love cross and worked for what was best for scene. I had enjoyed that part of my role in the past. Thankfully, we are spoiled here in the Mid Atlantic as there is good racing almost every weekend all fall.

I am also grateful that this is a role that I no longer hold.  But, I remain in the habit of putting together the schedule as it becomes more public. 

Where in the past I would email the local series leaders for their dates, (MAC, SUPER8, SPORTIF, PACX and NJCUP), these days I stalk association calendars, watch the social medias and try to pull it together. It's a little more fun that way, I have to admit.

Up front I'll admit:

THIS IS IN NO WAY OFFICIAL. SOME OF THESE DATES ARE PROBABLY WRONG. SOME RACES MIGHT NOT BE HAPPENING. THERE ARE LIKELY DATES I'M MISSING.

Also note I tried to point out some not regional UCI stuff, the New England UCI races, and some other fun stuff that has been on our fall calendar in recent years...

If something looks wrong, please let me know and I'll update.  

With that, I hope you geek out like I do: ENJOY! 

If I was still in my previous role I would love to see Kutztown and Slyfox work something out on 11/13- especially since 10/1 is an open date (as far as I know) in PA... But heck, I'm just a Mid Pack Masters Rider geeking out on an early calendar dates, and I know sometimes conflicts are unavoidable due to venue restrictions, volunteers... etc (observation, not a judgement)

thanks for reading

best to you.

respect
Vanderbacon

Monkey Hill Time Trial (Wilmington Grand Prix)

Dear Reader,

I know what your thinking. Vanderbacon isn't really going to write a blog about a race that took less than 8 minutes to complete, is he?

You're damn right I am!

So let me start by saying this: A few years ago, I did a number of time trials.I enjoy them, they are really fun in a hurtful, look in your soul and question your existence kinda way. The downside was that it quickly became clear that to be competitive, you really need to have TT equipment. Let me say, I would need TT equipment to be competitive and frankly I didn't have the budget for that expense. So my TT career was kinda short lived.

photo credit Velocipedesalon

I signed up for the Monkey Hill TT this week kind of on a lark. I loved racing cross at Monkey Hill, and I figured I didn't want to pass on the chance to race up Monkey Hill again. I'll comment the cobbled classic hill is never smooth, but it is a lot smoother on a 33mm cross tire with 20lbs of pressure than tire on a road bike.

To my surprise the course was super technical, lots of corners, lots of cobbles, lots of place where you had to drive the bike. Most folks were on road bikes, although there were plenty of aero bars and tt bikes, but aero was not required:  it was an awesome course. For someone with out many watts but lots of deception and guile (err hmm your humble blogger) It was super fun.

Got the venue early, and got to do a number of pre-laps.(Kinda like in cross!)
I rode two laps with Denise, who has been slapping me around on the local club rides and Shark Tank rides this spring. She had an earlier start time and rolled off to get ready.

Then I caught up with D-Lowe. We started geeking out on corners, and talking lines going up and coming off of Monkey Hill. We totally talked about tire pressure too. (Kinda like in cross!)
I love D-Lowe.

Finally, Mimi (the most awesome official and who I got to hug earlier in the evening) staged us to go.

photo credit Emily EO

Stream of conscious race report starts now:

Almost over cooked the first hill coming off Monkey Hill,.. Same thing I did chasing Dennis Smith last time I raced cross here... somethings never change...  get on the brakes and don't die... Okay we are at the bottom... hard corner into cobbles,... let the bike go ... no brakes... no brakes...power across the cobbles...  across the bridge and up the false flat.. , get in the drops... stand up... race like a cross race, stand out of corners, don't think TT... Just over the top... A little more... Settle in, shift into the 11 as the course rolls back down towards the river... In the S turn sweeper a little too  hot, scrub a little speed... not on the line I pre-rode...stay smooth... look down and see 30mph... sweet... two more corners... use the entire road... stand out of the corners, stand out of the corners.... Almost back to the base of monkey hill.. take a deep breath... Garvey just said something to me...

Photo Credit BK....

I'm on the hill... this is hard... I can see the finish... it's a wall of sound.. there's BK and Paul- I crack a smile... fucking Paul.  half way up... switch from the right to the left side... there is no smooth... 50 feet to go... Place is going nuts... This is hard... this is awesome... stand up.. can't stand up ... the line is right there... humpf it over... EAHHH....And it's over......

LVG is standing just across the line!  "Great Job Marc! " Did you have fun!"
"yeah, that was great.... so fun... I think" I spun off to try and spin my way off the vomit comet.

Afterwards, it was great catching up with friends and sharing war stories- you know from our 8 minutes of racing...

As Blair said, "so many stories in an 8 minute run!"

Turns out, D-Lowe and I were just a few seconds apart in the finish (just like cross)

and we finished in the money! HEY NOW - That was unexpected!

I had to run back to the center of the universe for a hot dinner date with my awesome wife,

Said Awesome Wife...

and couldn't stick around for prizes, so I asked LVG to donate my vast winnings to the animal shelter she works with AWESOM - which is of course where our lovely Logan came from...

To say I was stoked, would be understatement. 364 days until my next TT....

thanks for reading

and yeah I'm aware it probably took longer to write this than it did for the entire race.

respect
VANDERBACON

absense makes the heart grow fonder?

Dear Friends,

My apologies for being an absentee blogger lately.
I'll try to do better...

Monk and I ran off to the Islands for a quick get-away, and caught up with Craig/Beth and family for a few days. The Bahamas are truly a beautiful paradise. I was pretty cracked, and suffering some gastro-intestinal illness so some down time to recover was very well appreciated.

Beautiful Beaches... good to relax..

and yeah I'm the kook under the towel. I hate sunburn! 

The flight out of Philly was delayed. We made our connector with just minutes to spare. Diane and I ran across the airport and right into the gate. The young gate official smiled at us and said, "oh, our couple from Philadelphia! We were looking for you! Welcome!" Her warm smile and friendliness turned to disdain as I said, "We pulled an OJ - and barely made the gate" The young woman glared at me, as clearly we had a generational gap as I was referencing the Juice's Hertz commercial (we try harder) not killing people across the airport. Gruffly she said to us dismissing us, "enjoy your flight. you sick bastards"  Okay- I may have imagined her saying that last part, but based on the change in her disposition I'm sure she was thinking it.

the pools weren't too bad either...

Saturday, after two weeks off the bike, I ventured back into the water. The rain seemed to break for just a couple of hours, and Buddy the Leg Breaker and I headed out on our cross bikes. Yes, Buddy has a cross bike, but don't tell him- it's a swiss army bike or an adventure bike (it's a cross bike!). I was on my Single Speed Cyclocross. The fire roads were delicious. Perhaps absence does make the heart grow fonder, as we had a blast on these too familiar fire roads. Slowly our ride became a good old fashioned Fatmarc and Buddy the Leg Breaker Kung Fu fight. Nothing overt. No displays of aggression, just two old friends refusing to give the other one an inch. The pace crept up.  It was beautiful and as we crested the final rise into the fairgrounds, we were both destroyed. Well played Mr. Leg Breaker, well played.


Sunday a wonderful group came out to the house for a little ride around Cecil County. We did the Mr. Belvedere hates you loop, which is one of my favorites. I was lucky to have such and amazing group of folks to ride with...

photo by Monk (superselfie!) Jimmy  Vanderme, Gus, Kita, Jen, Anne, BK, Sanford,
 Sharon, Monk, Big Time, and Rebecca- not pictured:

Nick and Buddy who rode to the ride and put in monster miles today...

JHIII is not pictured because he was taking off his Super Suit!

Buddy and She-Buddy! 

thanks for reading.

and hey-  don't you forget about me...

respect
Vanderbacon

Scratching the itch...

Dear Readers,

Managed to squeeze in a quick trip around the skatepark this morning when it was clear our ride was gonna be washed out. So excited to have learned no complies again... they are such a weird little thing, but so much fun, I could do them all day... 

I also left a little skin at the park for the first time. I find that when I start off with "I need to carry more speed" things go badly for me... Merely a flesh would. Looking forward to getting back on the bike again tomorrow, the skateboarding itch scratched for another few weeks... Those new wheels are so fast...



thanks for reading.

respect
fatmarc

PSA: SUPER TUCK

Dear Readers,

This is Peter Sagan.

photo credit: Cor Vos

Last fall most of the world watched in awe, as Peter Sagan attacked the end of the race, using a Super Tuck to elude the pack and finish as the world champion.

Super Tuck displayed

It was amazing to watch. It was awesome. Peter Sagan, arguably the world's best bike handler, uses the Super Tuck to win the worlds. I've probably watched that finish 10 times.

I have to admit, I know the tactic worked, and as the world's best bike handler Sagan was never in jeopardy of crashing. BUT... Super Tuck doesn't look cool. It just doesn't. No way, no how.

But you know Sagan is really cool.

I mean a make Grease musical video with your girlfriend cool kinda cool.



Never mind-  Sagan made super tuck look cool.

Dear readers, I hate to break this to you:

You are not that cool. You are not Peter Sagan.

Since Sagan's incredible run at worlds, I  have witnessed 100% more Super Tuck. Super Tuck on the local club rides. Super Tuck at the Hell of Hunterdon, Super Tuck at Lu Lacka Wyco, Super Tuck on Mountain Bike Rides, Super Tuck riding to the packie store- Super Tuck everywhere...

Up to this point, I kinda just thought it was dangerous, and a little silly, maybe a little funny.

Last weekend I watched a guy go into Super Tuck, hit a bump in the road and go down at about 30 miles per hour. In the process, he almost took out Monk, as his Super Tuck quickly evolved into Super Thunderball. I count myself more lucky than skilled as I was 5 ft off his back wheel when he started tumbling.  I narrowly avoided being taken down myself.

Thankfully, our super tucker never lost consciousness, and it didn't appear that other then hitting the ground at 30 miles per hour and getting banged up from that, he was going to be okay. We stopped briefly and he seemed to be okay, and well attended to.

While Mr. Super Tuck was actually pretty lucky, he might not agree with me on this, but it could have been much worse. he could have landed on his head, he could have taken down 10+ people really easily.

So friends, the next time you find yourself charging down a hill, and you think that you should throw down a mean Super Tuck please think of me, and think of these words:

You are not Peter Sagan. You are not arguably the best bike handler in the world. You are not racing to win the Richmond Road World Championships

 Don't do the Super Tuck.

Super Tuck - Just Don't Do It.

This Public Service Announcement brought you by Tom Boonen's scarf.

and remember knowing is half the battle.



thanks for reading.

respect
vanderbacon

Lu Lacka Wyco

Dear Readers,

It's Sunday evening. We did the half Lu Lacka Wyco, which was a beautiful ride. It's impossible to not see the love and personal stamp on the event that Pat puts into every detail. Thank you to you and your team Pat! Cheers!

The Master of Ceremonies Pat! 

Claire ran a tight ship at the rest stop!  Outstanding team! 

The course itself was brutal. I'm happy that we only got 57 miles today.

This was by far the gnarliest of the gravel fondo/roubaix rides we have done.

It was amazing. I am destroyed.

Thanks to wonderful group of folks I had the privileged to ride with today: Mark Weaver, Anne, Gus , and Monkey. I am exhausted, but smiling ear to ear as I type this....

our group for the day: Mark, Anne, Gus Monkey and Fatme! 

First section of off-road...



Photo Blog Stars Now:

Shane, my friend always looking for another adventure involving suffering- he did the 100!

Sharon, BK and Sam sit in with me while we listen to the pre-ride announcements...

Just a few folks out for the ride...

Sam, Shane- and Birner who totally pinched my butttoday.
I'm not complaining, just sharing the story.

I put the geek in Domestique!

 Here I protect team leader Gus through a tricky section of pave! 

Weaver!!!

Weaver!!! sad trombone as sadly Mark's day was cut short..

All In! 

Monk and Anne lead the group up the fire road hill
 I would call the FUDGIE THE WHALE!

Our destiny lays before us....

this was long and a steep pitch...

An over the shoulder shot of Anne and Gus...

the Mail box was a good reminder for me
to eat some blocks in our final push...

Gus sometimes likes to be call el pistoero! 

We watched the sun rise from the road this morning! 

Thanks for reading.

best to you.

respect
fatmarcVDB

Leap of Faith

Dear Readers:

Following the Hell of Hunterdon, I headed out to one of the local skateparks for a little recovery carve. Glasgow skatepark is an amazing place, but not my normal go to park. Glasgow has two concrete circles, which basically allow me to figure out some curb style tricks. Heck I did some no complies which fall into the category of super-fun-tricks-I figured-I'd-never-learn again.

Not smooth.. But they feel so fun... I was stoked.

After my hour or so was up, I was ready to wrap up the session with one last big carve around the entire park. I ran and jumped on my board and will a full head of steam headed into the park. As I flew towards the stair/bank ramp feature, I had a horrible thought-

I can't remember where the ramp is and where the stairs are. I am going full speed towards them. I'm going to die.

Just as I made the top edge, I did the reasonable thing, I bailed at full speed.

I leaped into the air, let out a horrifying scream, and just started flailing in the air.

Thankfully, although not gracefully, I landed on my feet and was able to run it out with out dying.

I pat myself down, making sure I'm totally intact, that I'm not hurt,and in fact I'm fine. "did that just happen?" I ask myself.

Diane, who was along for the trip calmly asks me, "what was the first rule of you skateboarding again?"

I respond, "don't get hurt."

Diane more tersely continues, "what the hell was that?"

"I forgot where the stairs were." I responded sheepishly.

I know cats have nine lives. If I was a cat, I might have just spent a couple of them.

I collected my skateboard, and walked out of the park putting my arm around my lovely wife, "so, you want to get a cup of coffee?"

thanks for reading.

respect
fatmarcVDB