Merco...uhm...Team Time Trial? :0/

"Crap! We forgot our water bottles bud!" We both stop pedaling and give each other that "oh shit" look. We coast, one hand on our bars and the other holding our spare wheels. I quickly surmise that the likelihood of us finding anyone willing to give us 4 bottles is slim. AJ's race starts 5 min. after mine. "We can come back and get them." I say, but figure there's no way we have enough time. I look over and see Chris Baker just mounting his rig, spares in hand and ask him how much time we have. "I think it's getting pretty close." He replies. Since he and I are in the same race, I ask if he can take my wheels to the sag car. "Yeah sure" so I hand them over and tell AJ to go on ahead and that I'd bring him his bottles. I turn and head back to the truck. "Now lets see, the last time I checked it was 8:38...that had to be about a half hour ago..." Whistle blows at 9:05..."SH!T!"

"E-PEE-EYE-SEE!?!"

"E-PEE-EYE-SEE!?!" What kind of race/ride "qualifies" as an "Epic" one? Well, I guess it depends on what side of the handle bars you're looking from. I tend to be picky when it comes to awarding a ride with this badge of honor. The ride out in Bodega Bay last month with mah boy and the UCD Aggie Elite squad, 97 miles, King Ridge, Cruz Ranch, oodles of quad ripping climbs, on some of the most beautiful roads in Nor Cal, wind, rain, mud, in 5 hours...definitely earned the badge...maybe. Worlds Toughest Mt. Bike Race in 2004...90 miles, +13,000' of climbing, dislocated shoulder, piano player in the middle of nowhere up at Rubicon Springs, great friends, family meeting us half way and only seeing us for 5 min in the parking lot at Loon Lake, mah boy running along side us for the first 100m cheering us on as we continued and me having to tell him to turn back, hitting 52 MPH on a fat tire rig, in ? hours, insane ride home, lifelong friends...definitely earns the badge. This weekends festivities down in Snelling Ca., especially the early morning events, wind, rain, no less than 3 water crossings, mud, manure, debris all over the road, dodging moto refs and emergency vehicles at high speed, and loosing almost half of the field by the 3rd lap? Pin it!

The weather's finally turning for the worse...if you're a cyclist...it's time.

Well, it's that time of year again. Almost all of the beautiful, vibrantly colored leaves have fallen to the ground. Temperatures are dropping. Appetites are growing. Sunlight is dwindling. Time to revisit one of the most incredibly epic performances of any human on a bicycle. First, in order for me to open the door for rational dialogue, I must admit my biased opinion being that the afore mentioned cyclist is...American.
Andy Hampsten wrote about his experience and instead of my chopping it up and perhaps failing to do it justice in summary, I figured I'd simply repost his own words. Every time that chill crawls up my spine while out on a blustery day, I try and imagine what it must have been like attempting to ride the wheel of this incredible cyclist on this day...this day of self definition, of self understanding, of mind, body, and soul numbing masochism.



So, here it is

June 5th 1988 The day the strong men cried...

"Ba-a-a-a-a-a-a!"

So there I was 2 days ago, gassed, starving for air, feeling much like a fish out of water, or, at least what I imagine a fish out of water would feel like, looking up the road, feeling my age. The day had finally come. I've known that someday it would happen, just not so soon...well, at least it seems soon. Yet, at the same time, as strange as it may be, on more of a paternal level, it couldn't get here fast enough.

3 elusive cats, finally found...

Monday morning at 6:55 a.m. with tired eyes and strained consciousness I roll over, sit up and open up the laptop. It had been another long weekend, topped off with falling asleep on the couch...again. Lovely. I check my emails, check the weather, log onto Face Book and contemplate posting something silly and witty, with just the right amount of cynicism/sarcasm about my weekend, but reconsider, and refrain. I log onto my Twitter and hold the same internal debate about posting...I'm tired. I'm drained. I need coffee, but don't feel like making any.

Folsom Cyclebration 09 (AJ)

"This is the song I want reverberating in your head whenever you feel the wind on your face!" We were on our way to the Folsom Circuit race early Sunday morning, the third and final day of racing in this years Folsom Cyclebration Omnium. The song was "Use Somebody" by the Kings of Leon. In an effort to get him to understand the importance of conserving his energy, I told him, "Today, I better not see you at all!" Meaning that he'd better be tucked behind a wheel and out of the wind. It's something that both of us have a problem doing. We love mixing it up and would rather have our face in the wind forcing something to happen than sitting in, bored to death. However, doing that can have a detrimental effect on ones attempt at finishing well. "Today, we practice hiding." Referring to him of course. For me, it was no doubt going to be another day of pressing my face into the wind, chasing, covering, and sacrifice for the team. It's been a season full of scrubbing, lotioning, and flossing for me. It's hard work keeping this 25 year old face looking this pretty. ;)

Winters Road Race

"I love my bike...I just don't want to ride it anymore!" These words started as a whisper back in the deep crevices of the vast emptiness of my mind about a month ago but have recently become more of a motto, more of a mantra that I've begun to try to put to music during my last few races...have yet to strike that perfect cord though...so, I pedal on.