Rubber Side Down

Sometimes a ride is awesome in every way, but it takes too many words to really explain it. This time, I’ll just let the images speak for themselves.

Big thanks to Stuart for a great time in his hood!

1 Comment »

There’s a trail there….somewhere

Once more, Stuart told work to stick it, and we made a repeat trip to Corrales — this time with a good chunk of daylight to work with.

We hit the super-tight singletrack we’d skipped two nights before because of mud. You can see above that it’s overgrown to the point where you can barely see where to put your wheels.

Right after I took this picture we stopped, and we could hear a suspicious rustling in the underbrush. We stood quietly, craning our necks in the direction of the sound. Finally, a chubby critter waddled out into sight, heading away from us. We peered at its rotund caboose for the three seconds we were able to see it, and we were pretty damn sure it was a porcupine. We tried to find a way closer to it that wouldn’t scare it off, but there was no way through the punji stick hell of the bosque. We figured a porcupine would be the only animal to feel at home in this brambly mess where you are instantly perforated if you go off the trail.

And speaking of punji sticks…one took Stuart down as we were trying to get close to the river to stare at cranes. As he was trying to unclip and get a foot down, his ankle got trapped between the crankarm and a bunch of cut-off, pointy sticks right at the edge of the trail. He toppled over into the brush, slicing open the back of his thigh, tearing through both his jeans and his lycra shorts underneath. It looked pretty freakin’ painful, if I do say so myself. Thank god those punji sticks weren’t smeared in human feces, or he’d really have something to be unhappy about.

Here he is denying the pain.

He shook it off and we headed out to the “racetrack” area, a fast loop that you can do in something like thirteen seconds if you’re Stuart, who has ridden this area over 100 times.

Here he’s doing it really slow so I can ride one-handed behind him. Check out the cheapskate’s helmet cam.

We made another detour out to the river, along a trail that’s underwater in the summer. It was just getting dark, and we watched Vs of geese cruising in to land. If you’re into birds, like Stuart, there’s an awesome waterfowl refuge near Albuquerque. Thousands of sandhill cranes and arctic geese roost there in the winter, and it’s pretty damn cool even if birds aren’t your bag, baby.

After awhile of this, we fired up the lights and kept on rocking. Corrales has just over 20 miles of riding to be had when you go out and back, and we pretty much hit it all. It was much warmer (a balmy 39 degrees), so we were stoked to be able to ride and still maintain feeling in our feet and hands. Stuart’s damn lucky to have this area right near his house. I wish we had something like it.

At any rate, today’s plan is to rest (since I also hit the gym yesterday afternoon, I’m feeling a bit blown). That will have us ready to rock White Mesa on Saturday.

No Comments »

…that make you really glad you took up the sport. Yeah, you have to wear every piece of clothing you own. Yeah, you have to bust ass out of work to make it happen. But it is so worth it.

Stuart escaped the cube and we made a run for the North Foothills trails. We were genuinely surprised to find the trails covered in snow. Stuart said he’d never ridden them like this before, and he’s lived in the ‘Querq for six years.

Traction was actually pretty decent, in spite of the conditions. We began climbing, hoping to warm up in the low-30-degree temps. We saw a couple of other mountain bikers and a runner or two, but mostly the whole area was peaceful and quiet. All we could hear was the crunch of our tires in the snow and our breath.

It was definitely weird to see cactus just sitting there in the snow. Plus, you can see the tracks of plenty of other people who had the same idea we did.

While watching the yellow light on the Sandia Mountains turn them to their famed watermelon color, we reached a high point.

We stopped to listen to coyotes, howling and yipping as night was approaching. Their voices echoed along the ridges and valleys, then faded away into silence.

We were starting to get pretty cold at this point. No surprise there. It was about 30 degrees and we were rapidly running out of light. It was time to high-tail it down.

I got squirrelly in a couple of corners, but managed to stay relaxed and upright. I could see some bermed turns under the snow and I could imagine what a fun slalom ride this area could be when it was dry.

As we hit the last sections of trail, it was almost dark. Sharp fingers of light shot up from the horizon, and Stuart took the camera to feed his sunset-photo obsession.

Another rad ride in the books. I’m definitely grateful to be here while the weather is so flippin’ cold in Colorado. Rob told me yesterday that while he was sitting at dinner in a restaurant, his feet were as cold as if he’d been out riding. Holy crap, man. That ain’t right.

It explains why this sweet item is on my Christmas list:

No Comments »

Along the river in Corrales. Just out of sight are a bunch of sandhill cranes.

Day one of my Albuquerque adventure was windy and cold. But since my bike (that I shipped ahead) arrived sooner than expected, I figured I had no excuse not to ride. Besides, Rob was telling me that it was 7 degrees in Colorado, so it seemed especially wimpy to complain.

Stuart and I headed out pretty late, when he got off work, at about 4:30. He’s got enough lights to power a two-wheeled army, so we weren’t afraid of the dark. However, this scenario meant there were no real photos to be had, so you’ll have to just take my word for it that the trails were fun.

We headed to a spot just minutes from his house called Corrales. You drop off a busy road into the bosque, or tree-flanked area surrounding the river, and soon there are fun singletracks to be had. This area is totally flat, but that’s unusual in my neck of the woods, so I was pretty stoked. It would have been do-able on a cyclocross bike, for sure, so my almost-six inches of travel was a bit overkill. Stuart was on his Niner singlespeed hardtail, a perfect bike for this joint.

The trail whips around through dense underbrush, where you can hear critters scurrying about. Stuart once saw a bunch of raccoons in there, and tonight he spotted an owl. I was totally bummed that I missed it. I heard that coyotes are common in there as well.

Once it was fully dark, we were riding in an eerie tunnel of bleached-out branches and weird shadows. You had to keep your eyes peeled for the occasional diagonal root or patch of ice, but mostly it was pretty fast. I dig night riding; it made me wish it was more viable in Colorado. But usually, by the time of year where it’s dark early, the trails are also under snow. Perhaps we’ll get some warmth and dry trails in Jan/Feb, like we sometimes do.

In the end, we put in about 13 miles, freezing our feet solid by the time we got home around 6:30. Today’s ride will take place in the daylight, at the North Foothills area. To keep you entertained in the meantime, check this crazy shit out:

No Comments »

Shore ‘nuf, tomorrow is the State Cyclocross Championships. Should be crazier than a metaphysics conference, especially since it includes one of these:

Rob and I will be out there slaying it. In our minds, at least.

And then Sunday’s event should be interesting, to say the least:

I gotta go race it just to see if it lives up to this overly dramatic video. Show up in your boner pants, everyone.

And lastly, I have not forgotten about mountain biking. Next week I’m headed off to Albuquerque to visit friends, family and the ‘Querq’s trail system. Check back here if you’re curious about the riding down there. I’ll have the laptop along.

p.s. — I just now noticed that Sunday’s racers get free burritos and Mix1. Giggity!

No Comments »

I know it’s barely December, but I’m stoked to see that the Mountain States Cup has already released their schedule for next summer.

2010 Mountain States Cup Series Schedule

This is a good selection of races, and I’m especially stoked to see that Keystone is back. Their Super D is totally rad. Speaking of Super D, I’ve got a new plan for next year’s racing: Drive to all these awesome locations and just race the Super D. Then spend the rest of the weekend riding for fun. If that’s not a recipe for a good time, I don’t know what is.

On a side note, the US National Championships are still at Sol Vista this year. The website I’ve linked to isn’t updated yet, but I assume it will be in due time. I’d really like to make it this round.

No Comments »

Also known variously as Riding Around With a Number On, Embarrassing Yourself for Forty Minutes, and Showing Off Parts of Yourself In a Skinsuit That No One Should See.

However, if you’re feeling good and the course is fun, who cares what other people think. Thus were the circumstances at the Schoolyard Cross, held Saturday at Alexander Dawson School.

The course was bumpier than a teenager’s face, but I still thought it was a great time. It also suffered from Bank Teller Syndrome, with many nonsensical 180-degree turns, but hey, who doesn’t need to work on their cornering?

Of course, all this was overshadowed by the mud pit, which was created not by mother nature but by my friend Boups and a few Dawson students with a garden hose.

While it’s true that bike racers can be a whiny bunch, I had to agree with people who were a bit exasperated by this. Everyone had spent hours cleaning their bikes after the Blue Sky Velo Cup, which was the real deal where mud was concerned. To end up with the same chore the very next weekend — when all this grit does real damage to equipment — for the sake of a fake mud pit felt lame.

That said, the slop was easy enough to ride so long as you weren’t throwing elbows in a group, and I can handle the job of bike washing without much complaint. I’m a mountain biker, after all.

Aside from that, the course held some other cool bits: a funky rise up a contour trail before hitting a steep barrier run-up; a great view of the mountains while approaching said run-up; a couple of more slalom-style turns; and a short climb that for some reason was great to charge up. (I can’t believe I just said that. I hate climbing.) There was also a longer, way bumpier hill that was utterly taxing, and of course it was located in direct line of sight of almost every spectator. And finished with a set of barriers. I don’t think I need to say any more.

But I felt pretty decent, which is always a pleasant surprise, and after each grind up that hill I was able to recover and start charging again.

This must be a sign of – gasp! – fitness coming on, at least on some feeble level. Sweet.

After making some decent passes and not getting passed by anyone else, I squeeked onto the finishing straight right before the start of the men’s 4s.

But contrary to how this might look, I was not last. I was 13th out of 21, which is certainly a sign of improvement on my part.

Huge thanks to Rob for shooting these photos (his first attempt with my neck-breaking DSLR), carrying my spare wheels on his back while we rode to the racecourse, and just being rad.

You can see some more photos of the race here.

Next week’s racing brings us back to Xilinx, hopefully in drier conditions, for the next Boulder Racing event. Get there!

1 Comment »

It’s hard to make anyone outside the cycling community understand the addictive nature of this formerly uber-niche sport, which is now gaining popularity faster than the cheerleader who’s putting out.

Check out the race last weekend at Valmont Bike Park’s groundbreaking:

It’s safe to say that once this park is done, I won’t be getting any more questions like, “Is this a real sport? Why are these weird people running around carrying around their bikes?”

In spite of this, I make an effort not to take cyclocross too seriously. Although I have a rad bike this year, I don’t really train. I ride whenever I can, practice a remount or two, and call it good. Once that’s done, I like to just show up at races, ride hard, and have a good time.

Unsurprisingly, you’ll see that my results reflect this. I get my ass handed to me on a regular basis; I’m surprised I can do anything other than hold onto my own butt cheeks. Which, to be perfectly honest, is not as fun as it sounds. But I’m not too concerned. I’m there to hang out with my teammates; ride corners and and sand pits better than the roadies; heckle other racers and eat bratwurst. Not necessarily in that order, although it’s always good policy to leave the brats for the end.

And every week, I watch the pros and get inspired. Damn, those guys make it look downright graceful, as they dismount, float the barriers and glide back onto their bikes, like a flamenco dancer whirling his partner back into his arms after a dramatic flourish at arm’s length. Occasionally, the partner trips in her high heels or he drops her, but their saves under pressure are equally amazing.

It makes me want to do better, and I indulge in glowing, slo-mo daydreams of skimming over the barriers in efficient, athletic style. But then I remember that the barriers come up to my knees and I run slower than Rush Limbaugh escaping a burning Twinkie factory — and my fantasy comes to a predictable, record-scratching halt.

But oh well. It’s more fun than a person should really have while breathing too hard. Come check it out.

2 Comments »

I arrived in Vegas on Saturday the 19th, and as I stood in the concourse waiting for the train to the terminal, I realized I was surrounded by half-naked men. On every wall were posters for the Chippendales, The Brotastics (yes, that’s for real) and The Thunder Down Under. Six-packs, butt-chests and rippling arms towered over me as far as the eye could see. Each group had a sexy assortment of flexing dudes including Long Haired Guy, Asian Guy, African-American Guy and several iterations of Frat Boy. I was standing there alone, and I glanced around in amazement that there wasn’t a single girlie poster anywhere near. Eerily, it made me think of Minority Report, and I tried to figure out which camera was scanning my retinas. But finally I just photographed the Brotastics and thought, “Welcome to Vegas, baby!”

But honestly, Vegas is pretty crappy. The usual gripes: sustaining lasting damage to your eardrums while walking for miles through casinos to get to your hotel. Choking on the hooker stink/port-a-john chemical used in the casinos to cover up the smoke stench. Avoiding the weird dudes on the sidewalks slapping their decks of girlie cards. The tiresome difficulty of finding food that isn’t either horse-meat fast food or overpriced, time-consuming gourmet restaurant fare.

As a result, it’s great to spend the first few days of InterBike at Boulder City, where Outdoor Demo is held. Once you make the turn past a last, huge casino on the interstate, you find yourself in a reasonably normal town. There’s a Mexican restaurant, an ice cream stand, a wine bar. Whew. Best of all, there’s Bootleg Canyon, a rocky, dusty refuge where mountain bikes rule.

I arrived at ODD without a game plan, just ready to ride whatever caught my eye. I started Day One with the Giant Reign XO. And now I have made an official decree: Outdoor Demo shall henceforth always begin with a long-travel bike.

You get on the earliest shuttle you can manage, head up to the rockier trails, and hammer them right out of the gate. The plush travel is a great shot in the arm, getting you adjusted to the loose conditions (and 100-degree temps) with no fooling around on weenie cross-country bikes. Amen.

This bike was everything I wanted in a long-travel machine: fabulous ability to mow over everything in sight, decent pedaling, surprisingly light weight, and super-stable handling. Nice looks, too. I felt like I was gobbling up rocky trail with no trouble, and the bike still felt pretty nimble. I reluctantly handed it back to the folks at the Giant compound, hoping the rest of the day wasn’t going to be a letdown.

From there, fate led me on a tour of five-inch bikes, and within that realm, a sampling of all the new chick-related rides. It started at the Giant booth, where several guys pounced on me, asking me to ride the Cypher. They introduced me to Abby, the woman in charge of global product development for Giant’s women’s division, and she seemed genuinely interested in my feedback. So I took the bike out.

I’ll admit that I’m still learning a lot about how geometry and suspension setup affect bike handling. Which is part of why I love ODD so much — it’s an education disguised as fun riding. And the Tour de Chick Bikes was pretty eye-opening. Mainly, I learned that bike companies are realizing that we XXers are the last quasi-untapped faction of the bike industry, and they’re trying to find ways to make us happy. Which is cool.

And at the end of the day, I felt like Giant did it the best. I know, this sounds like I’ve become some sort of evangelist for Giant, but that’s my honest opinion. That said, my favorite bikes of the day were not the women’s models.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. The Cypher was definitely cool. Giant put in all the radness that the Trance X has — hydroformed tubing, Co-Pivot shock/linkage design, and the new “single spar” rear triangle. Plus it was pretty light, which always a good thing. If you only weigh 120 pounds and your bike weighs 30, it feels like you’re pedaling a refrigerator. And the geometry was reworked for the female body, which designers say has a lower center of gravity and longer legs relative to the torso (especially as a woman gets taller). I think I have a bit of the long-leg thing, as I’ve been too stretched-out on bikes in the past, but I have to say that the cockpit on this bike felt pretty small. In the photo, I’m sitting pretty damn upright. Granted, I didn’t spend any time checking the fore/aft position of the saddle or anything; nor is this some aero race machine. But still…it looks odd to me.

At any rate, the bike rode solidly, with a nice stable feel and point-and-shoot simplicity. I think women in general would find this bike very much to their liking as they take on rough terrain…it has a Weeble Wobble, crash-proof kind of feel to it. But I was left with a vague sensation of deadness…it didn’t seem particularly lively, like the kind of bike you want to flick around corners and loft over jumps. And again, I’m not knowledgeable enough to know why that occurs — it’s just my perception. But I give Giant huge props for making the bike look nice without adding annoyingly obvious “This is a girl’s bike!!!” paint schemes.

Next on tap was the Rocky Mountain Altitude (women’s version). I didn’t know yet that I was destined for the estrogen tour, so I asked for the men’s model, but their size small was out. So again, they got super stoked to put me on the female version. Okay, fine. Hit me. But right out of the gate, I thought the bike was hideous. Purple appears to be the new girl color, and this thing was decked out with a matching white-and-purple saddle. I shuddered as I spotted the doll-like female figure on the top-tube.

The ride wasn’t that rad, either; when I tried to climb, it squatted into it’s travel like a recalcitrant donkey and refused all efforts to go forward. It also had a dead, wooden feel on the descents. I was more than happy to hand that thing back. On the flip side, my cohorts Steve and Chris were very impressed with the men’s version of the Altitude, so….take what you will from this review.

Meanwhile, Stuart and Chris were hammering around on other rad offerings:

In the end, Stuart was sold on the Santa Cruz Nomad, which I was sad I didn’t try.

Rob tried out the jumps on a Norco:

By then, we were out of time for the day, since we needed to relieve our friends working the Mavic tent for the road bike demos. The rest of the mountain bike world would have to await its domination the next day.

Day Two: Rob and I spent the morning doing Mavic neutral support at the Hangover Ride road event, so we were a bit late getting back to the dirt. We joined the mass of people and tried to get something from Ibis. Size smalls are almost always available, so I got a ride on the Mojo. Rob couldn’t make that happen, so he tried out the Tranny, a funky carbon hardtail that abounds with possibilities. Singlespeed. Geared. Travel bike. You name it.

I neglected to shoot any photos, but were both pretty happy with our options.

After that, we met up with Stuart and discovered he’d been having trouble getting anything in size large all morning. Finally, we wandered over to GT to say hi to Louis and see what was new. The boys took out the carbon Force, and I wanted to try the new Sensor. As before, I got steered into the women’s version, and by now I decided I was on a fact-finding mission for Abby, so I went for it.

I didn’t love the paint job, but it was a sight better than the Rocky Mountain. I could definitely live with it. The bike rode well, like every other GT I’ve tried, but I still preferred the carbon Marathon Pro I have a home, a unisex size small. And none of these bikes were even coming close to the incredible feel of my Maverick. Of course, a lot of that has to do with the highly-tunable, ultralight and stiff DUC 32 fork.

Since the madness of Day Two was preventing us from doing as much riding as we would have liked, we oogled some clothing from Troy Lee Designs; Stuart bought some Giro sunglasses super cheap, and I discovered that I need a Giro Xen helmet.

Finally, to wrap up ODD, the three of us went to Yeti. We chatted with Abby Hippley and Ariel Linsley, then scooted out on the new carbon ASR 5s. No women’s version to be had, but it didn’t matter, because that bike was incredible as it was.

Although the fork was not tuned well for me and felt like crap, the bike wowed me in every other regard. First of all, in my size it weighed only about 24.5 pounds. Sick. This particular rear-suspension setup is more progressive than the 575, best suited to hard carving and jumping than hammering rock gardens. It doesn’t feel quite as bottomless as the 575, but I could see why that firmer sensation might be preferable when pumping the crap out of smoother trails. And boy, did it step out when you put the hammer down. Braaaap! We were all pretty impressed.

After all of that, I made a stop back by Giant and got in a really good conversation with Abby about women’s bikes. I gave her all the useful feedback I could think of, and she gave me a great education on the parameters of making bikes. She mentioned that her next project was pondering the validity of making a longer-travel bike for women — basically a chick version of the Reign XO. I told her that it sounded like a fantastic idea, and that Colorado would be a great market for it. Come on, ladies. You know you want to tear down the ski hills on that thing.

In the end, the standard Reign XO and the Yeti ASR 5 were my favorite bikes. They had the best overall feel and performance for what they were designed to do, at least from my personal standpoint. If I can round up any spare money, a tricked-out Reign will likely find its way into my garage. But it’s cool that the industry is working on a solid group of bikes for women. We’re not as invisible as we used to be, I guess.

As for the actual indoor show, it was cool; it was what you’d expect — rad bits and bikes everywhere you look. Notably, however, several big bike manufacturers (Giant, Cannondale/GT, Trek/Gary Fisher), didn’t show up. Outdoor Demo is starting to be the key place to show off your product, apparently, and why not — it’s far better to ride it than stare at it.

Cross Vegas was also a great time; we spent it in the pits, wearing our Mavic yellow shirts and poised to do rad wheel changes. But the race was all on grass, and there were no flats or mechanicals to be had. Sigh. Next year we’ll have to bring the tacks. Rob and Petar from Mavic raced in the Wheelers and Dealers division…acquitting themselves very well on a hilly, power course that featured two substantial run-ups. It was cool to watch the pro action unfold under the lights.

All in all, a great time was had. Even though no money was lost, no morals were corrupted and no vehicles were damaged (not even while driving the bright-yellow, Mavic-issue Ford 450 dualie  — with the BMW GS 650 stored in the bed and a Thule rocket box on top — through the parking garage), we managed to have a blast in Vegas. But maybe next time I’ll go see the Brotastics, just to feel dirty in a way that doesn’t involve actual sand.

No Comments »

It’s not built yet, but it will look something like this:

Can’t WAIT to ride this thing. Must stop the drooling.

3 Comments »