Tour Tour Tour Tour Tour Tour Tour and I dunked today

The magnificent Tour de France has started and today I dunked a basketball for the first time in like three years. All is well in my world. I’ve short-tracked two weeks in a row now and each time I have had my ass thoroughly handed to me on a muddy, bloody platter. I was really determined on Wednesday night to get the hole shot (“hole shot??” I hate that term. I’m going to come up with a better way of saying “I secured a good position in the opening seconds of a mountain bike race”…maybe Dave Towle can help me with this) but I ended up having another pedal snafu as well as a nice touch of wheels with 2 people in my area AKA in my way. I liked the course setup this week much better though and after one lap I was making the most of the wider sections and motoring by people, passing maybe 5 or 6 people. Coming around for lap three, I again tried one of my world-famous surges but this time I ended up on the ground. A guy dressed like Capitan America just edged me out as the wide trail become narrow and I touched his handle bars leaving me with a little more blood trickling from last week’s almost healed wound and my handlebar’s rotated about 300 degrees around my top tube, not before letting some silly brake and gear cables get in the bar’s way. After collecting myself, checking my bike’s pulse (sorta flat lined) and watching some 15 dudes pass me, I remounted and began the furious chase I’ve become known for out there. I picked off 5-6 riders but for a second straight week I let my overzealous lungs and erractic handling skills get the worst of me. But as they say, there’s always next week and I hope to improve on whatever back of the pack place I managed the other night. The short track photos below demonstrate two things - 1) me chasing Capitan America after he crashed me out and 2) me being completely boring over one of the two rhythm jumps (I need to let it fly over those things!) I’m tired. I’ll explain the other 3 photos tomorrow. Sweet dreams blogosphere!

Back on the trizz-ain

 I haven’t raced my bike for what seems like forever and today I finally had enough of my wimpy, can’t-do attitude, so on this, the 25th of June (also Bike to Work Day if you live in the “bubble”), I took my new mountain bike to task with the Wednesday night short track race, sanctioned by none other than my Alma mater’s fiercest rival, CU Cycling. Wow, that was a long sentence. So, Jesus Christ, short track racing is intense! It’s like the first lap of a road crit where you’re fighting for position and pinning it to try and get to the front…but for the whole race! Add to that a dusty course, super tight corners and 50 other racers and you’ve got a harried 25 minute sufferfest. Going to into it I thought “25 minutes? that doesn’t seem like much,” but when you’re out absolutely busting ass to hang on, 25 minutes feels like juuuust the right amount of time. As for the race itself, I got a tremendously crappy start, it was pure chaos with that many dudes trying to clip in at once and get a good position. I bumped into some people and then about 50 feet later there were the first of several little rhythm jumps and then you hit tight single track where passing is largely fruitless. I think I kept my position of somewhere between 20-30th the entire race. My pedals definitely need to be ratcheted down because through countless corners my foot would just slip out – a total momentum killer and an invitation to crash out either yourself or some unlucky rider near you – sometimes both. I think I dumped it 2 or 3 times, losing 3-5 places each time and then having to bury myself to catch up and pass the same 3-5 people half a lap later. The final dump-truck happened when I found myself screeching through a corner on the second-to-last lap when all of I sudden I missed the turn and went plowing into the course tape, resulting in a less than graceful tumble (withcut-up knee, to boot) and a mouthful of white, Shimano plastic. I’m guessing I finished somewhere in the 25-30 range and while I’m never happy finishing halfway down the results list, I learned some valuable lessons tonight that I’ll take with me for the next races. Fitness-wise I know I can finish top 10 so I’ll be gunning for that next Wednesday. Part of my buying the new mountain bike was to race these short tracks and after not being in Boulder the past couple summers, I’m so thrilled I’m here now and out racing them! The races are packed with riders, spectators, beer guzzlers, and the entry fees are just right. Tomorrow will probably be a lunch time Betasso ride.

Summer means Mountain Bikes and new blogs

And so I welcome myself back to the game with…a brand new Gary Fisher “Paragon” 29er. After much trepidation about dropping bucks on more bikes (but why break from tradition, right?) and whether the new one be a hard tail or full suspension – Gary Fisher or Yeti – used or new – single speed or multi - I finally found an apt replacement for my faithful British Columbia-bred Rocky Mountain Element. Sold that one on Craigslist for about half of what I paid for it new (love you Craigslist!) and going to apply some “economic stimulus” to pay for the 29er. This new bike purchase was a really comforting reminder for me. As financially impaired as I feel most of the time, the purchase of this bike was a happy reminder of the financial security I’ve attained. I’ve got money in the bank, I live within my means, and I’ve made some “smart” money choices over the last few years – namely not owning a CAR for going on FIVE years, baby!

So to welcome the 29er to the world I’m going to christen her in Salida this weekend. Clare, Shadow and I are driving down tomorrow afternoon for Fibark weekend (huuuge whitewater festival) where the plan is to hang out with her family and friends (ones from all the way back when she was just a tiny “Bubs”), participate in some pro New Belgium beer drinking, and hit the famous Salida singletrack. So excited! We’ll see how I adapt to the 29er although I’m sure it will be smooth. I’ve literally not heard one dissenting comment about 29ers, especially if you’re over 6′ (I’m 6′3”). 

On a completely unrelated note, remember when there was “beef” between the east and west coast hip-hop scenes? Whoa, that was a long time ago – I just thought about it b/c I’m listening to Tribe Called Quest’s Beats, Ryhmes, & Life. That was some serious ‘ish. ‘Ish is so 1996.

Off to bed. I have a 7:00 am appointment with my chiropractor tomorrow to look at the changes in my alignment (particularly my wretched pelvis) and to hopefully get the seal of approval. I can already smell the coffee that is going to coax me out of bed…yum.

Starting a new blog is like giving birth; so exciting, so promising, and then it just sits there and wants to be fed.