First DNF of the year comes early.

Normally in the past I've felt bad about a DNF. Normally I've though that I should have dug deep and pulled Rule V out of my gut. Today was not normal. Elk River took my lack of preparation and thwacked me with it.

At the start line I could tell my pedals were going to be a problem. The race hadn't begun and my left foot already wasn't fond of attaching itself to my left pedal. Before we even got into the woods we had to get over the giant mount that Rich had made. I ended up having to run it because of congestion and that was the last time my my feet decided to attach themselves to the bike. Entering the woods it was obvious that this was going to be a long race. No one was riding anything that went up at all. A lot of this stuff would at least be a bit rideable, but it just comes down to one guy in the line messing up a little bit and everyone has to run. Pretty easy to do when every one of us has the new Shimano Iced Cleat Interface. Going down the big hill under the bridge was exciting since I'd kicked my crank and couldn't find a pedal, I was going down rodeo style. No stirrups and legs flailing. At the bottom of the hill I passed Dominic. I think the bull thwacked him in the nuts from what I heard.

About this time I started to notice that the snow was deep enough that it was packing into my boots. I kept going on hoping that it was warm enough that it wouldn't matter. I made it to the power line climb and I saw Heath and everyone seemed to be going pretty slow. I threw my bike on my shoulder and ran around hoping to get a little closer to the leaders. As I passed Heath I saw that I was also passing B. Moore and was now in the lead. Sweet, I'm finally beating that guy. I knew it wouldn't last, but that's been a goal for a long time.

After not a very long time of being ahead of Brendan I realized why they were going so slow. The trail hadn't been ridden at all so he'd been breaking trail the entire time. Now not only could I not ride the uphill, but I couldn't ride most of the flat. That was fine enough as the adrenaline was pumping pretty hard. We switched off breaking trail a couple of times with a bit of a gap on the rest of the group, but that gap was fading fast. Toward the end of section 4 I think, I never learned the stupid section names, they caught on us. The adrenaline started to fade and I noticed that my boot wouldn't stay velcroed any more. Both of them were packed full of snow that was melting inside my boots. I moved over to futily try to fix them and get a little bit of relief behind some other guys.

Through section 1 and 2 I think, I never learned the stupid section names, a couple of the guys I was behind started falling a bunch and let the leaders go. I say they fell, but probably mean, I was struggling to keep up with them even though they kept falling.

I soft pedaled out of the woods to cross the start and go through the prologue to start my second lap. I'd been in the woods for 2 hours. My feet were wet and frozen. The soft pedaling was no longer because of an outside factor, it had become my only speed. With the prospect of two more hours of this ahead of me I gave up and went home.

I'm disappointed I didn't prepare better. I've ridden in conditions like this and know what it's like without gaiters and know that my pedals will freeze. In the end though I feel like I gave it what I had and am happy I was able to do well for at least a short duration of the race.

An idea I was kicking around.

Components of bicycle handling due to tire variation,

I think that bicycle handling is not viewed in a realistic way. I want to start the journey that ends in real progression rather than marketing hype. This is some of what I’ve learned.

Stability; Stability comes from increased width and decreased pressure, stability slows down reaction from rider input and reactions from outside variables.  Increasing stability does not mean that you will not slide, but it does mean that you will be less likely to fall down when you do.

Grip; Grip comes from tread design and decreased pressure. Grip will change the likelihood of sliding though it does not help you stay upright once a slide has begun. Grip is very misunderstood as it is associated with width, but seems to have little to do with width. More width can lower the minimum pressure thereby increasing grip but doesn’t seem to contribute to grip directly.

Float; Float does not help you in a corner and seems to help primarily when force perpendicular is questionable. This may seem of little value, though it does help as a sort of straight line stability. For example, ram jamming through a snow bank. Float is often misunderstood. It relates to the pressure that is being run. Maximum float equates to minimum pressure that is possible. It is often viewed as maximum width, but in fact contact patch is a 2 dimensional shape and length should also be accounted for. This has to do with tire diameter and again pressure.

Reaction; Reaction is possibly the same thing as stability though for this reference it is viewed through a different lens. As width increases  Reaction becomes slower and the bike will feel heavier. This is mentioned in stability, though it is necessary to point out the negative connotations of increased stability.

This is not a complete list and definitely not 100% scientific. The main purpose is to view grip by it’s components rather than as one quantity.

Road raging!

The Mukluk was in full commuter duty this morning as I flew warp speed downhill on a snowmobile trail with overinflated Larrys. The trail started to turn and it felt like I was going way too fast. Went for brakes, but I guess swapping wheels and rotors this morning didn’t help the brakes efficiency. Getting a little worried I thought WWSvenNysD? First, images of a mud covered Belgian hopping over barriers danced through my head. That isn’t going to help…Maybe if I can’t get this thing turned before I hit that fence? Back to the immediate situation, I remember seeing those Belgians sliding around corners moto style with one leg out. That’s it! I rip foot out of the pedal and prepare for epic corner shredding. Oh…the corner is done…and I’m already at the bottom of the hill…now with one foot out…I guess I should pay more attention to what’s going on?

Productive?

 A quality product review is an essential part of any good biker’s blog. I have not done my part in providing useful feedback for the masses and I aim to resolve that.

The 1998 Kona Jake the Snake is a fine piece of engineering craftsmanship. Why, you might ask, should I spend my hard earned money on this exceptional machine? It is hard to capture the pure passion that is Jake the Snake in words, but I’ll do my best. Some may tell you that steel, titanium, or carbon fiber are the way to go, but really that is because those people are uninformed. The magical ride of 7005 aluminum is a secret that only a few well seasoned racers know. Can I say horizontally stiff yet vertically compliant? I won’t, but you may. It is a little known fact that 7005 aluminum got it’s name because it is 4993 better than any material currently available. Enough material science. The really fabulous things come from the fanatical attention to detail. When you look closely at what Jake has brought to the table you see things that other manufacturers have either forgotten or deemed too expensive. Things such as a 1” threadless headset and a color matched pump peg. You know you are going to get a flat with all the miles you are going to book on this hot rod and what would you do without that full length frame pump? I don’t think I even need to start on the rock solid feel that the 1” threadless fork can provide. If you can’t make the turn with this bike it is your fault, not the fork’s. Looking deeper at the fork I realized that Kona spared no expense in bringing you the finest exotic materials. It seems that they were able to take carbon and merge it with iron to create a super material known as steel. I don’t know how they did it, but it seems to be stronger than…well I don’t know, some sort of super material. My only grievance is the component spec. The shifting and crank parts seem to be some kind of chintzy black plastic with the word “Force” scribbled on them. I guess they were “Forced” to use them. (insert-time to compose yourself) Also the tires seem to be glued on. Really, how cheap are we going to go here? Thankfully the color scheme makes up for component deficiencies. Finally, in the rad air jump test the score came in at, “Like three feet of air!”

This is my review.

Why does this guy keep complaining?

I’m a big fan of junior programs in racing. Get new kids into the sport at a discounted rate. Make it accessible to kids that maybe aren’t from wealthy background. The kind of stuff that you used to like before you thought that you needed a newer bike. You know…the one that helped you win the big race…ok maybe it didn’t. Biking becomes an expensive sport because we make it an expensive sport. I was having a lot of fun before I realized that I needed carbon everything. Have you seen my bell?

This is my problem with the new High School League. A junior race runs around $15, High School races are $52.50. More kids in the sport is great, but setting up a system where the entry fees have to be this high seems a little wrong to me. I know they aren’t out gouging people for the fun of it. Setting up a race is an expensive thing. I just don’t see the value of running independent races when it seems that we could add these races to the already present series races. I don’t know, kind of like the junior races that are already there?

I think this elevated participation is an excellent thing. I however do regret that in it’s current state, the league is only being contested by the wealthiest schools in the area. My feeling is that this gives our sport, one that already has a reputation for being fairly extravagant, an elitist undertone that I am a little embarrassed by.

I’ve been learning more and more that my opinions on things like this are often wrong, so if you read this you should probably ignore it. However, my feelings on this league have been building to the point that I wanted to complain, so there it is.

I dislike the High School Mountain Bike League.

cross

Cross...I've looked forward to cross all year. An escape from the normal racing scene is how I viewed it from the spring and summer. Last year it was just that. Exciting racing usually head to head, with all sorts of attacks. This year has been different. This year the race has started and I try to hang on for a while. Ultimately I lose contact and I race alone for 45 minutes. It's even starting to affect the way I see the world. Yesterday I was yelling at goose number five because he was letting a gap form between he and goose number four. "Dig deep goose! You're going to be flying south alone!" Nature has lost its innocence. In my mind the problem is with the depth of the 1-2 field. There are plenty of elite's, but I'm seeing a lot of the guys who wouldn't be winning, but would be right on the back of the lead group go to other fields. Single speed seems to be the biggest draw. In my world, I'd move that category into the sparse 1-2 field and out of the huge masters field. They could still race their own race to try and get sweet prizes, but at least the track would have the appearance of a race.

Chequamegon 12

It's Monday, cold and rainy. I should have started riding a few hours ago, but it's Monday, cold and rainy. So instead I'll write a word or two about last weekend in an effort to avoid the cold for a moment or two.

I left Minnesota with a stomach full of nerves. I've had a feeling since I finished last year's Chequamegon that I shouldn't have done as well as I did. I showed up this year fully prepared to be crushed by the pressure that I've been holding on to. The race certainly wasn't a huge victory, but I think I did alright.

The morning started cool. Our crew rolled out of bed bright and early for breakfast. Rolling the bikes down to the Norske Nook is always the best way to start a morning in Hayward. We ate awesome food and drank a lot of coffee. Got back to the hotel and drank more coffee. Needless to say, by race time, I was amped up and ready to go. Five minutes left and the butterflies in my stomach must have found that caffeine because their wings are about to bust out of my stomach. Telling myself I've done this before, it's just another day on the bike does nothing. Usually this works, but in a crowd approaching 2,000 there is no kidding myself. Today, this is a big deal. A couple of minutes to go and the four wheelers start to burble. The familiar smell of burned gasoline starts to waft through the crowd, and we are off! The start is always slow and twitchy. So many people elbow to elbow, trying to move forward. I can still see the front, but it's farther than I probably should have let it get. We roll along the pavement accompanied by the roar of mountain bike tires unaccustomed to the tarmac. Slow accelerations followed by violent braking is pretty standard at this point. Finally I can see the police car blocking the road. As we approach the police car the leaders fly off the road to the left into the field. This is where the race truly begins. The people that have just been hanging on basically stop on the grassy hill. The people that were overtaken try to squeak through. Usually it is a sort of chaos until the trail narrows back down. I made it through in alright position and should have calmed down. I tried but failed. I sat in for a bit, but saw a sweet tandem come down and figured it was time to move towards the break. The tandem fizzled on a hill and I was left alone in the front pulling towards the group ahead. Eventually I caught them, but was left in a shape that was not going to help me finish well. Every time we crested the hill it was a fight to get back on. Finally I started to feel a pain in my calves. My body was saying it's time to give up and I couldn't argue anymore. I let them go and kept chugging along. The worst part was seeing the group just ahead and knowing I couldn't reach them. That is where the story of me having a chance to win ended.

This is where the story of me finishing starts. I had fallen back and was ready to quit when I saw that a couple of guys were roaring up on me. They passed and told me that we need to get back in this thing! Figuring I didn't really have anything else going on until Kevin's party I might as well pedal my bike a bit. I hung on his wheel, he was flying! Recovered some, then put in a decent pull. We were moving along. My calves still hurt, a lot, but what can you do? I chugged along eventually hitting firetower. It was painful, but crested the top and saw a familiar mullet. He offered a coke and told me to get it in my big ring! Looking down I was a couple cogs away from there so I complied and pushed until the familiar hurt started again. I got caught by a guy and we caught a couple of others. We worked together pretty well until we got to three to go. Then I put in a pull that was not supposed to be friendly. Everyone was gone except for  the guy that had caught me. He was off my wheel, but hadn't given up. Eventually he caught me and we had what seemed like the slowest race ever up the last hill. I was thinking I could have walked up faster, but on reflection I think that I would have collapsed. I crested the hill and the legs could feel the doughnut holes that I wanted to dominate at the finish. Hammer, Hammer, Hammer!!! Down the hill I can almost grab you Erik's guy but you are just out of reach. Pedal Damn It! was not even close to the profanity that I was choking on. The pain was there in the volume that you can only handle a few times a year, but then with the finish line there was a satisfaction that is so worth it. The Erik's guy held on. I finished and saw Dave O and a few other people who had beaten me. It wasn't my best race there but I earned my 47th place this year. Frickin butterflies.