tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8898397016961270472024-03-27T19:53:12.152-04:00Johnny HamburgersJohn Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.comBlogger68125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-91247077600274339622024-03-25T08:25:00.002-04:002024-03-25T08:25:33.091-04:00A Late Winter Weekend in Rothrock<p style="text-align: left;">It had been a few months since I'd ridden in Rothrock, so when a nice weekend of weather appeared on the horizon, I texted Thad and asked if he wanted to drive up and do a couple rides with me. Of course he was in, so I reserved a roadside campsite in the forest and we met up Saturday morning for the first day of riding. Actually, we randomly met up at a Sheetz on the drive up, and then I followed the Blue Rocket (Thad's blue Honda Civic) up I-99 toward State College.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzote_YzQbeAeK6su8OrKOJ6owDwAiMgQAJ5m_MSbALTAcAg09IjJN0RDRV7VWfPMxVpvytRcnzkkVk6LDIaMCNU9bLsf_f52L3qwJrBfnT-4GPraP4qKH1ukrVMGSjV-811mddge8UpVjTv3KArJQZRHgfoluaennnr3xZZwt3zhvryaFl2iEicY9Xi0/s1881/IMG_20240317_113746079.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1881" data-original-width="1411" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzote_YzQbeAeK6su8OrKOJ6owDwAiMgQAJ5m_MSbALTAcAg09IjJN0RDRV7VWfPMxVpvytRcnzkkVk6LDIaMCNU9bLsf_f52L3qwJrBfnT-4GPraP4qKH1ukrVMGSjV-811mddge8UpVjTv3KArJQZRHgfoluaennnr3xZZwt3zhvryaFl2iEicY9Xi0/s320/IMG_20240317_113746079.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Highline Vista looking out over State College.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">On Saturday, we also met up with State College-local Matt for the ride. He's a hammer of a rider, and I rode with him for parts of the Wilderness 101 and Shenandoah 100 races last year.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">To start our ride, we climbed Dylan's Path to Tussey Ridge, a climb I've done many times before, but this time, it was a bit different. Logging and future development in that part of the forest meant that the old singletrack climb is mostly gone, and now, the climb is a gravel road a majority of the way to the Beer Tap at the top. No matter, it's still a great climb, and it's not a bad way to warm up.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Tussey Ridge is probably my favorite trail in Rothrock, also probably in Pennsylvania, and one of my favorite trails I've ridden anywhere. It just flows so good, in a rocky, not-flow-trail type of way. Going the direction we did - from the Beer Tap to Kettle Trail - gives a few great downhill sections and plenty of rock features that let you fly right through if you know the lines.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM3ihe-3pg45KewurY2px9uYaUxlJyjIVv3LKpXRcUrye0dOlgd44Vk45r1SLvwHPZu4Be1GJhsL2EB_eRJMfoW-ogUG8ZTQn_fJ3sLxA-fJtjoHS9e-ZakyTDpfb-_IUlBP80xjMX95hdnG7eLDriAXn43QjS752kZQUUgnvND8DlYEn0Q8PxgKqpRzQ/s1170/IMG_1535.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="871" data-original-width="1170" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM3ihe-3pg45KewurY2px9uYaUxlJyjIVv3LKpXRcUrye0dOlgd44Vk45r1SLvwHPZu4Be1GJhsL2EB_eRJMfoW-ogUG8ZTQn_fJ3sLxA-fJtjoHS9e-ZakyTDpfb-_IUlBP80xjMX95hdnG7eLDriAXn43QjS752kZQUUgnvND8DlYEn0Q8PxgKqpRzQ/s320/IMG_1535.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWrPnkSQWO4yMkKjre9GoqeLYnbap562NjY9V6wzjbNRprxg64UF9KA5AupZrbZu0l3LadHSU-Jh0tgpL7z9fBj4-sX89YllR-lPDyv0J9pUcl1EJaDmj7-Eo45hj-ZVnN3UZs4VG9nDMXm1QIkDIWUHu25IWsjW_rVNgN-owucCNd4g50FDeeJ-J-TpU/s4032/IMG_1490.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWrPnkSQWO4yMkKjre9GoqeLYnbap562NjY9V6wzjbNRprxg64UF9KA5AupZrbZu0l3LadHSU-Jh0tgpL7z9fBj4-sX89YllR-lPDyv0J9pUcl1EJaDmj7-Eo45hj-ZVnN3UZs4VG9nDMXm1QIkDIWUHu25IWsjW_rVNgN-owucCNd4g50FDeeJ-J-TpU/s320/IMG_1490.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A couple of the standard "Tussey Ridge pictures". In the distance is Colyer Lake, and in the foreground are a couple of faster flowing water sources.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWim-VoGIBC-kLxiSDmPNb22oMUeIgDGY3VShXGIHMfAiDv9boZCCAOxhagnjvFtnb-QtSUArmbN7uqHVLNnTDfNYWQS5YueCzQq67GvedcRByZpWJFAcemjfwufKz3vrAVck5Mt1Nx65Hn1s5imEWgYRtMeAxwN-uYNldypYGkCQhNVdmKyTLL4j32nY/s4032/IMG_1499.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWim-VoGIBC-kLxiSDmPNb22oMUeIgDGY3VShXGIHMfAiDv9boZCCAOxhagnjvFtnb-QtSUArmbN7uqHVLNnTDfNYWQS5YueCzQq67GvedcRByZpWJFAcemjfwufKz3vrAVck5Mt1Nx65Hn1s5imEWgYRtMeAxwN-uYNldypYGkCQhNVdmKyTLL4j32nY/s320/IMG_1499.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOy3OcqYzlbaqKhsDHOjou74fUkxxF4mvQidMseurrmt-t2bTtmxgHa1R4nUigw4HOo2xYNPf8whnYBWrV3y3vbw0vjcUtaE5li0UYrw6C0rV3eIXwbGKfgahYn9rDeuEgdKoROvOkDtMX98_Iknjh3sB9dUuTV9k1mSwXyMWax60omNisOplmZK2cD4c/s4032/IMG_1500.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOy3OcqYzlbaqKhsDHOjou74fUkxxF4mvQidMseurrmt-t2bTtmxgHa1R4nUigw4HOo2xYNPf8whnYBWrV3y3vbw0vjcUtaE5li0UYrw6C0rV3eIXwbGKfgahYn9rDeuEgdKoROvOkDtMX98_Iknjh3sB9dUuTV9k1mSwXyMWax60omNisOplmZK2cD4c/s320/IMG_1500.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After Tussey Ridge, we climbed North Meadows, bombed down Croyle, and headed into Coopers Gap.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As always, Sassafrass Trail did not disappoint.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwtDIB1vqWk3FHivj7ILpsL_wgy5-BPYmxiMdp7SlPtQVFX0_ZgiyY7hwQpncw-c3QfoGSWWR1221IB74WanfVb8E8bH-U60PpxxQBUmUF0g-PrCz-T17ZBccCChG4Ikg6_9Cfz_qcUYOgNkyq24XpHiuicoVdVxOV1i6yVZpAyzF4UJS8xo5bayZzHNA/s4032/IMG_1508.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwtDIB1vqWk3FHivj7ILpsL_wgy5-BPYmxiMdp7SlPtQVFX0_ZgiyY7hwQpncw-c3QfoGSWWR1221IB74WanfVb8E8bH-U60PpxxQBUmUF0g-PrCz-T17ZBccCChG4Ikg6_9Cfz_qcUYOgNkyq24XpHiuicoVdVxOV1i6yVZpAyzF4UJS8xo5bayZzHNA/s320/IMG_1508.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sass XX was also a treat, and it was the first time anyone except me had ridden that trail. I always love showing people new trails.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0MAKkETQjGXU98YrROIvB1sWRD-rAIZ7vGtB08CW4TeTNOee2HtW1RfgWBpGFisvowH7lXEROwa7PhbrcYGS9r4-38yMDnsrB_N0-PvQcLwbZb7cyWXzjwX9lxf-vBbMJ_SsV5PjaM95ec-sFHS_wAIjb-YJhHLZapjQFM5RDctI80maNBO440hOYWXA/s4032/IMG_1513.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0MAKkETQjGXU98YrROIvB1sWRD-rAIZ7vGtB08CW4TeTNOee2HtW1RfgWBpGFisvowH7lXEROwa7PhbrcYGS9r4-38yMDnsrB_N0-PvQcLwbZb7cyWXzjwX9lxf-vBbMJ_SsV5PjaM95ec-sFHS_wAIjb-YJhHLZapjQFM5RDctI80maNBO440hOYWXA/s320/IMG_1513.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We also rode another one of my favorite trails: No Name. Those of you familiar with the Wilderness 101 course might remember No Name as the chunky, rocky descent just before the Stillhouse Hollow climb and aid station.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpZeC3FA4VShNv2yt-kmnvaI0vPwtQL8a7I5X5JH8U1zqJlWYSE33KHT5rVUbzkbGYSBHddfp5xK-YCdsDQ-1cpsV_FUF0qcP-QJLpdCMEUvdd20simXS0KC7tpZ9XEYYw_PiNisAGTlJb6qk4bggpYIHsKJVx6a7ebXzqfUA7oIsZu99qKDPImIVg0wk/s4032/IMG_1516.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpZeC3FA4VShNv2yt-kmnvaI0vPwtQL8a7I5X5JH8U1zqJlWYSE33KHT5rVUbzkbGYSBHddfp5xK-YCdsDQ-1cpsV_FUF0qcP-QJLpdCMEUvdd20simXS0KC7tpZ9XEYYw_PiNisAGTlJb6qk4bggpYIHsKJVx6a7ebXzqfUA7oIsZu99qKDPImIVg0wk/s320/IMG_1516.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyLxk7IG6caKk0CsEqllrAWLWMNWkhP6QROXIZoTeiCq13Zvi_srJ7bn0tzmnU8g5mepKJxekBB5ftYOj09CE_4gghEVTxfLTStKAkvDA6Txr0PyswlFipj3z1-G0njy-801HIUvMJ2qoEXJZuwmXqJ3bsdh_jNASgRCkVT-q2ksYnQb_s59H_Xu-8vDM/s4032/IMG_1521.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyLxk7IG6caKk0CsEqllrAWLWMNWkhP6QROXIZoTeiCq13Zvi_srJ7bn0tzmnU8g5mepKJxekBB5ftYOj09CE_4gghEVTxfLTStKAkvDA6Txr0PyswlFipj3z1-G0njy-801HIUvMJ2qoEXJZuwmXqJ3bsdh_jNASgRCkVT-q2ksYnQb_s59H_Xu-8vDM/s320/IMG_1521.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After No Name, I took the fellas on a couple more new-to-them trails: Indian Trail and Brush Ridge. I know I say every trail is "one of my favorites", but those two trails are also pretty darn fun. Brush Ridge is, how should I say, a "rustic" trail. It's not maintained. It's washed out. It's wet. It's fun. And Indian Trail is a gem of a trail, and a rarely-ridden one at that.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLRDcTKa9P0tZqNYf5vg8Jhs0m65p1i6O8XZnXI9Mnu_mUoCFFw0aal-LCXqgYtm2GaxbrHGThO1KjEkaXs4qrYfn5c4BBKCybtS8yWTVNQR2u_5zKvUz9sXp82iHgTNRdV-hyzqU3fouuDctqq1UXZLFby9wsIM56CnSIcA65ZF-ePHdxsajYuKSihlw/s4032/IMG_1542%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLRDcTKa9P0tZqNYf5vg8Jhs0m65p1i6O8XZnXI9Mnu_mUoCFFw0aal-LCXqgYtm2GaxbrHGThO1KjEkaXs4qrYfn5c4BBKCybtS8yWTVNQR2u_5zKvUz9sXp82iHgTNRdV-hyzqU3fouuDctqq1UXZLFby9wsIM56CnSIcA65ZF-ePHdxsajYuKSihlw/s320/IMG_1542%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After the ride, Thad and I drove to a pizza place in Boalsburg for dinner. I ordered the third biggest stromboli of my life, which tasted really good after a hard 60 mile singletrack ride.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">What are the first and second biggest stromboli's of my life, you ask? Well, the biggest was in Galeton, PA on the CTC Gravel ride with Will. It was big enough for probably five people, and I'm not ashamed to say I didn't finish it. Second biggest goes to the stromboli I had the night before the Shenandoah 100, which I had to have Stick help me finish. These are important things, and it's why I keep track.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The campsite I booked in Rothrock was right off of Bear Meadows Road, just below Detweiler. It's one of their "roadsite campsites", and it's actually quite fantastic. It's spacious, has a good view, and even has a picnic table. All for only $10 per night. It was a crystal clear night with a bright moon, so Thad and I didn't even need to turn on a light while we were hanging out.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqR58S18du_5QMeamRUWNtsYaYAROCqqujsrtmz_ii6qK1Etq3a4zrAsQptODNnIt0JVuWZ8U_QUaSt_40FjH67DgCwt-8pkgXaBUGj9eCSVM_3MngU7mTHP5E7LNBQw7h7gX-P1QVdlLxgJ_X4jzf-dPDv1C0sgCgHuq9lIq5Umhclfg6jksXr4haVFA/s4032/IMG_1547.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqR58S18du_5QMeamRUWNtsYaYAROCqqujsrtmz_ii6qK1Etq3a4zrAsQptODNnIt0JVuWZ8U_QUaSt_40FjH67DgCwt-8pkgXaBUGj9eCSVM_3MngU7mTHP5E7LNBQw7h7gX-P1QVdlLxgJ_X4jzf-dPDv1C0sgCgHuq9lIq5Umhclfg6jksXr4haVFA/s320/IMG_1547.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT_FbiojcHjYcy0eR0xiQg0AvBVrkoUVfsuM_2nrZNihJYHCXOR1vlh266hGi8OBi4RuIJrocvlaLm3lncY-PA-9jxr6j9l_kYkhBd18oOp41lyC46NENAUV808eLdxcc25dO__wty_Oqo_d2dsI1-X6sMtsw9clWiPtE-CfAoLgROdxfX3USP2fMn0gQ/s4032/IMG_1552.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT_FbiojcHjYcy0eR0xiQg0AvBVrkoUVfsuM_2nrZNihJYHCXOR1vlh266hGi8OBi4RuIJrocvlaLm3lncY-PA-9jxr6j9l_kYkhBd18oOp41lyC46NENAUV808eLdxcc25dO__wty_Oqo_d2dsI1-X6sMtsw9clWiPtE-CfAoLgROdxfX3USP2fMn0gQ/s320/IMG_1552.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The next morning, we met up with my friend Anders for some even-rockier trails than the day before.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">First up was Bald Knob Ridge, a technical and scenic ridge trail that offers great views of State College. It was followed by Charcoal Flats, Lone Pine, Mountain Mist, and Downer Trail. Downer Trail is a steep chute that drops down to the bottom of Lower Trail, and because of two small trees down across the trail, it was even spicier than normal this time. Fortunately, I was able to hop both trees, but it was quite the adrenaline rush.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrGs2Ba9H4uxtyf7Nl4x7dBDjbcMixLSQo_nf9FzxQQzKqyaA6Xg9NnW5FKTfs6CeVxjuZW7B-kmxJCSVwMpTVJs_2ACjgw-G7IorfKpfNkQOpco-Hy6sqLyJjXBtcPy0Ofg9N8qI895nEj-Xa7zDRVPUoaci1BmS99B2lqPBYDIcB1SQvc2747Q299TI/s4032/IMG_1554.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrGs2Ba9H4uxtyf7Nl4x7dBDjbcMixLSQo_nf9FzxQQzKqyaA6Xg9NnW5FKTfs6CeVxjuZW7B-kmxJCSVwMpTVJs_2ACjgw-G7IorfKpfNkQOpco-Hy6sqLyJjXBtcPy0Ofg9N8qI895nEj-Xa7zDRVPUoaci1BmS99B2lqPBYDIcB1SQvc2747Q299TI/s320/IMG_1554.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigIpcMBxzQlxS-RdJryv2rwGOc84CzXzyYpBbdhYaEqeGLEfaDOL3wmY2P-mkzg38x5AMBjL8u5fQiXh5NznC6OP_lKr_ZAG-_-uOid_bQl2wBvfKkYRtYBSbT_rbugIgUtSIbE6T8_FbEMXiW3g5C0bOZ13RLzwQCA10QiJm-gzk_beDncERJeDb1_14/s4032/IMG_1561.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigIpcMBxzQlxS-RdJryv2rwGOc84CzXzyYpBbdhYaEqeGLEfaDOL3wmY2P-mkzg38x5AMBjL8u5fQiXh5NznC6OP_lKr_ZAG-_-uOid_bQl2wBvfKkYRtYBSbT_rbugIgUtSIbE6T8_FbEMXiW3g5C0bOZ13RLzwQCA10QiJm-gzk_beDncERJeDb1_14/s320/IMG_1561.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Bald Knob area of Rothrock, and the Shingletown area in general, has a lot of pine trees and feels different from other areas. Did I say it's rocky?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The picture above on the left is a particularly challenging rock section called the "Snake Pit", and I think I've finally figured out the line through it. It's satisfying but also slightly scary to ride that section.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrtUPzuVLt3nyXrhIKgsMjOja4BZdMP29a75rEFrai2RL4wGn28rbVz0lE5DQoCVsROcfgPeCYh29g-9-a_pxHPQOm5tKeBNJRy0L_sLr3wnOBBGTAZlqc-rPGREFApMWgB7P2GJgMCS7UV6dZrMbCArutqcOQ0QXaaWvdueDzfWY-MAmO95vEQD_SOhE/s4032/IMG_1566.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrtUPzuVLt3nyXrhIKgsMjOja4BZdMP29a75rEFrai2RL4wGn28rbVz0lE5DQoCVsROcfgPeCYh29g-9-a_pxHPQOm5tKeBNJRy0L_sLr3wnOBBGTAZlqc-rPGREFApMWgB7P2GJgMCS7UV6dZrMbCArutqcOQ0QXaaWvdueDzfWY-MAmO95vEQD_SOhE/s320/IMG_1566.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Pretty cool picture of Thad ripping down the final section of the Bald Knob West descent down to Lower Trail.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgXI-wsRTRMv1v6lrT1j2UVBd3N-xTBckTu_DfSGZSypRLzC7sQEE-eqCkjbBYqJRBnO3oif44fhDYgmdzUF8V4sniZgwQcerFj0s__AbOoMrOMwU1nE9rb5yCUjC9ChwP4qdQ-H5EkxGwFHNArXSo4f3l47Hylwho-uyImlJfiCSCVwWhETNREtk1tus/s4032/IMG_1575.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgXI-wsRTRMv1v6lrT1j2UVBd3N-xTBckTu_DfSGZSypRLzC7sQEE-eqCkjbBYqJRBnO3oif44fhDYgmdzUF8V4sniZgwQcerFj0s__AbOoMrOMwU1nE9rb5yCUjC9ChwP4qdQ-H5EkxGwFHNArXSo4f3l47Hylwho-uyImlJfiCSCVwWhETNREtk1tus/s320/IMG_1575.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC3Rxev9zvGRzlDoX6Go7rHmWWjpyH3LoZTagT9igmQ6s_BezbZ9m-2R19Q1E_JgtCpXbsRwAWWTok_pg7BH7VwQHSrRaKWTQViA9oOJEsPB8TlYauhuynTM5FliioHHT5Nf-nNPD0ErG6m_nxUfeUsHJh5lFWW3dLOoQhde4qRRoWrjCQng2KCtdZqyA/s4032/IMG_1568.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC3Rxev9zvGRzlDoX6Go7rHmWWjpyH3LoZTagT9igmQ6s_BezbZ9m-2R19Q1E_JgtCpXbsRwAWWTok_pg7BH7VwQHSrRaKWTQViA9oOJEsPB8TlYauhuynTM5FliioHHT5Nf-nNPD0ErG6m_nxUfeUsHJh5lFWW3dLOoQhde4qRRoWrjCQng2KCtdZqyA/s320/IMG_1568.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Some pictures of creeks we had to cross. Thad doesn't like hike-a-bike, but at least he was kind enough to not curse me out (at least that I could hear) during the ride. As I tell everyone, when you ride with me, be prepared for some adventure. And adventure can include hike-a-bike and stream crossings.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWWkKpCJeCk6fjDjD_1dULFANeseMmVt8NYalOR0itIRgXyIQ9JqF9o7R2WVgsZoP2NtPWMWr4FoH5xgBMRPKtj3KXFIAIF0TUh7O3Z0-9MdwY-LmoAVUjcGVuaqpx3XwoXeZbZMGue47jXMzr2kF2WGgmkAqzv5_ZjXmSnuxon-yZis9YcLIbcYo7hJ0/s4032/IMG_1569.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWWkKpCJeCk6fjDjD_1dULFANeseMmVt8NYalOR0itIRgXyIQ9JqF9o7R2WVgsZoP2NtPWMWr4FoH5xgBMRPKtj3KXFIAIF0TUh7O3Z0-9MdwY-LmoAVUjcGVuaqpx3XwoXeZbZMGue47jXMzr2kF2WGgmkAqzv5_ZjXmSnuxon-yZis9YcLIbcYo7hJ0/s320/IMG_1569.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This view is from Highline Vista, on Mountain Mist trail. If you zoom in, you can see Beaver Stadium, where Penn State plays football.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sunday's ride was all about technical riding, so it was only fitting that I took Thad on one of the steep enduro bro downhills: Sand Spring Trail. It was just as steep and loose as I remember, but with the 140mm fork on my Karate Monkey, it feels so good.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We also did New Laurel and Old Laurel trails, two amazing downhills off of the Laurel Fire Tower road. Needless to say, it was a day of fun in the rocks.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After the ride, I finished up the day with a traditional stop at the Atherton Street Chipotle. Because, you know, burritos.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-35956337675919172462024-01-31T08:26:00.008-05:002024-02-01T14:20:05.039-05:002023 in 50 Photos<p>Rather than a long write-up, I'm just going to do a look back at 2023 in photos, with only some short captions. For one, I think I've already written enough about most things this year, so why write about everything a second time? Plus, pictures give a certain spontaneity to the construction of the post, meaning I don't have to write a memoir to get through a year's worth of events.</p><p>I'm already starting to go on rambling longer than I intended, so this is it. Just pictures and short captions. Fifty of them. Well, one or two might've got lost while I was editing.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJxOF5o012CfySoxYj5TlsV8p4HpF1bnswe-lJMD7nTfTxJ-RBbNPJIfQ1ME_X1DaFAN80suTgViV2tf5wW16EkiLkngbejqZvX0nIbv6IiWWGWb_HGOmbrSmHTRuWW9NChVQ8lZ3pimiz5A2XZi4p120ll4jD3PWvzAH8tsihthfi6cPWrgE6_wdRV6o/s4032/IMG_7113.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJxOF5o012CfySoxYj5TlsV8p4HpF1bnswe-lJMD7nTfTxJ-RBbNPJIfQ1ME_X1DaFAN80suTgViV2tf5wW16EkiLkngbejqZvX0nIbv6IiWWGWb_HGOmbrSmHTRuWW9NChVQ8lZ3pimiz5A2XZi4p120ll4jD3PWvzAH8tsihthfi6cPWrgE6_wdRV6o/s320/IMG_7113.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">One of my favorite trails I've ever ridden: the Monarch Crest Trail near Salida, Colorado. This was from June 2023. It also makes a good blergh cover photo.</p><span></span><span><a name='more'></a></span><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAFc2VefMIQSOEj77jP8BxesnhVgTgmj7DuLcqs-gVDAvCI9KMKi6Fjz5jT9fnLjqU-m-hgcTgvszRAuJF1C0PdOaNDHq7ifG7_xz-4qKVg81GOvD54FxDFZ9MH7bQkjFXmSUgSM4YpLSIaL13nH3uLpManCNXZiEElduHyi0rc_-4YGvtPDWEyO7OD7w/s4032/IMG_2448.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAFc2VefMIQSOEj77jP8BxesnhVgTgmj7DuLcqs-gVDAvCI9KMKi6Fjz5jT9fnLjqU-m-hgcTgvszRAuJF1C0PdOaNDHq7ifG7_xz-4qKVg81GOvD54FxDFZ9MH7bQkjFXmSUgSM4YpLSIaL13nH3uLpManCNXZiEElduHyi0rc_-4YGvtPDWEyO7OD7w/s320/IMG_2448.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">A dry creek bed in southwest Texas (just miles from the Mexican border) in Jan 2023 with Zach.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFgXmXdvLzHzrtdrgGo0NHoJq_NP_L89FvjBMu1u5DZ0t904-PEdt2QUJq85XqsFd56YZ0h0-IFeU25Cd578BChRJFGdJqw2C0sM0bdvZXIzAAswbO4AnfTLqtEJBFXtLFPTxwWLG7C5I2CFc3nwlO-I6rGgtm26nVM9f1ZdDnbUigeKSTQNgpVRxP8Y/s4032/IMG_2886.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFgXmXdvLzHzrtdrgGo0NHoJq_NP_L89FvjBMu1u5DZ0t904-PEdt2QUJq85XqsFd56YZ0h0-IFeU25Cd578BChRJFGdJqw2C0sM0bdvZXIzAAswbO4AnfTLqtEJBFXtLFPTxwWLG7C5I2CFc3nwlO-I6rGgtm26nVM9f1ZdDnbUigeKSTQNgpVRxP8Y/s320/IMG_2886.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUdC0h0tSvnTBJ7BD6lunU2hQpvSx59zBtg6rD8qHs9IYyHkq4LhjNaEZOpiJ1_AaKZgWdi5_TM1x9ciRPTKcxE4p8NStEOTeiEcIp4_ci7U_4QC_Cvw-pz1o8Ysh3AN_kFdfsJGADHOLM_12aSH0ktX3VaVsimZKq_-8IIedI2tD_XADiYfjI7Ox82II/s4032/IMG_3994.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUdC0h0tSvnTBJ7BD6lunU2hQpvSx59zBtg6rD8qHs9IYyHkq4LhjNaEZOpiJ1_AaKZgWdi5_TM1x9ciRPTKcxE4p8NStEOTeiEcIp4_ci7U_4QC_Cvw-pz1o8Ysh3AN_kFdfsJGADHOLM_12aSH0ktX3VaVsimZKq_-8IIedI2tD_XADiYfjI7Ox82II/s320/IMG_3994.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Central Pennsylvania in all its glory. On the left is overlooking Penn's Creek from Poe Paddy Drive in Bald Eagle State Forest. It's one of my all-time favorite paces anywhere I've been. There's just something about that view that gets me every time. On the right is overlooking the valley south of Rothrock, with the picture taken from Sassafrass Trail.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF-4VtuWnrL6A8i7roU4rwJ_vyEa9XRy75DMdWVRpWu4WR0guM_d_dHySyRn6tjxHbyfm6PS1Ip3_dpHXH19VHzPMBmFopbY0evzrKEflkJXV8l_tjma-UUD0G-ojLdd1Fs_Qkvfp7AKkvSlMGj1Kvg6O8vjXiRI60vv42lubpz6oRm9Kg8khclZm2vwU/s4032/IMG_3880.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF-4VtuWnrL6A8i7roU4rwJ_vyEa9XRy75DMdWVRpWu4WR0guM_d_dHySyRn6tjxHbyfm6PS1Ip3_dpHXH19VHzPMBmFopbY0evzrKEflkJXV8l_tjma-UUD0G-ojLdd1Fs_Qkvfp7AKkvSlMGj1Kvg6O8vjXiRI60vv42lubpz6oRm9Kg8khclZm2vwU/s320/IMG_3880.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">The one and only Tussey Ridge. No more words needed.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihrHomPBf5Zj2Q_KOWkU5LQcH-WStmJWmmJOPzEZ39JklniTpZdSDrzJxsP0mpQlFOOYaXkNvYSGNfQ1FBVIEiPB8OUphM9FRwBKEHDYsxTWfrTd8xm18Nx1xtGC7yWwJ5B_wfE80M8mPlVoap0OqB7UxAXl9O8drLkErL1Wiv6D51NZ3oSdOmCEL7lP8/s4032/IMG_5314%202.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihrHomPBf5Zj2Q_KOWkU5LQcH-WStmJWmmJOPzEZ39JklniTpZdSDrzJxsP0mpQlFOOYaXkNvYSGNfQ1FBVIEiPB8OUphM9FRwBKEHDYsxTWfrTd8xm18Nx1xtGC7yWwJ5B_wfE80M8mPlVoap0OqB7UxAXl9O8drLkErL1Wiv6D51NZ3oSdOmCEL7lP8/s320/IMG_5314%202.JPEG" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">The calm before the storm. Stick, Rob, and me at the start before our (failed) CTC singlespeed attempt.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaicfXIyQDdCMmUiFC5odHc3qXCo9kC4YoxNfG3Ingjmam0NtITJNBqpGZ892LCr1EjrRhKIvTkrAVS8K5Zh95-lbKsTvDl7_L5L_TPYdM2bZq75BQcghCN0u6YFH749IUrW6Pd1p63KXODUcIIa1q7QwJRF2zHR32E1RSmiKc1stle5uOAEeQ0jxT3AA/s4032/IMG_4531%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaicfXIyQDdCMmUiFC5odHc3qXCo9kC4YoxNfG3Ingjmam0NtITJNBqpGZ892LCr1EjrRhKIvTkrAVS8K5Zh95-lbKsTvDl7_L5L_TPYdM2bZq75BQcghCN0u6YFH749IUrW6Pd1p63KXODUcIIa1q7QwJRF2zHR32E1RSmiKc1stle5uOAEeQ0jxT3AA/s320/IMG_4531%202.HEIC" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0S6v8Qt6vP13JVKKjcB3WEJ4qsGyUGDhzDAOrphDBBL3KXy8hJbCJDPt8AQQ8GzamCA8uktOkGcttvuRgK8ci9EUhsXDpqt8md5j1sExVyWk3KdI6pOjDkY9Dbxohz165YwuMDRwn85_Xc6kKk8R4Rw2qHHKIDYcVbs4E-kxCwIBuOLzt-GHUQ324Mr0/s4032/IMG_4628%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0S6v8Qt6vP13JVKKjcB3WEJ4qsGyUGDhzDAOrphDBBL3KXy8hJbCJDPt8AQQ8GzamCA8uktOkGcttvuRgK8ci9EUhsXDpqt8md5j1sExVyWk3KdI6pOjDkY9Dbxohz165YwuMDRwn85_Xc6kKk8R4Rw2qHHKIDYcVbs4E-kxCwIBuOLzt-GHUQ324Mr0/s320/IMG_4628%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Getting Hawg Wild with Rob before PMBAR! And an outside dawg. PMBAR was one of my favorite experiences from the year. Friends, cool trails, beer, what more is there?</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwdjKPhUOlEYtNK8PcvFmJK6TkfHBGb5P0s_MJid5RiApYfsFtYF7M3wh8nMsrlcTGZKf-l9jfZg6Y6ZzIU3qubG1CXEBXOpQ1RfQvSCg9oq7wdWpIsgGNLCDR0m6_-o2IvJTiCNdywxe8sR1RNf9gyxIFtBWcJZNYdxPRnYe4swXohpNleUVhCK50Siw/s4032/IMG_5422%202.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwdjKPhUOlEYtNK8PcvFmJK6TkfHBGb5P0s_MJid5RiApYfsFtYF7M3wh8nMsrlcTGZKf-l9jfZg6Y6ZzIU3qubG1CXEBXOpQ1RfQvSCg9oq7wdWpIsgGNLCDR0m6_-o2IvJTiCNdywxe8sR1RNf9gyxIFtBWcJZNYdxPRnYe4swXohpNleUVhCK50Siw/s320/IMG_5422%202.JPEG" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">The PMBAR podium. We were out-navigated and out-ridden by Dicky and Watts, but we were the only two SS teams to get all 5 checkpoints (I think).</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE2oq1V1v5KDcIm623Rj25w2iNbvm2nyPSNEafMH8rj9k_peBaWDhEeZfeynejeDe0lnFkudgigJQEGdqSD9hjOTeRnkn6P8A6xX9EcyABEs91w93ldUU8QJEI2kcwY0QcBvtbhj1WGWNIdUHCj1SCX1-gl-Fxhe4MDdNV4nn2nZpAAJDzBgeHSSfojU4/s4032/IMG_4897%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE2oq1V1v5KDcIm623Rj25w2iNbvm2nyPSNEafMH8rj9k_peBaWDhEeZfeynejeDe0lnFkudgigJQEGdqSD9hjOTeRnkn6P8A6xX9EcyABEs91w93ldUU8QJEI2kcwY0QcBvtbhj1WGWNIdUHCj1SCX1-gl-Fxhe4MDdNV4nn2nZpAAJDzBgeHSSfojU4/s320/IMG_4897%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7-trPtL-tyXHrmCkdYmPmwJbA6alLulXPK5n35C9CKKQbrLhYOtJP72m1B1GWfc6S0YJ2gUDnW-aDPTZcJ9DCe7LfJxJsrEjyPqPI72LdT4PfxzQQkgBxUNFxsDgQ55HExXgLJrFQfOqH0uykGJtf1v78-sBRrw6IF3PFra8gc0svcasiwBIPkhTSPe8/s4032/IMG_9378.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7-trPtL-tyXHrmCkdYmPmwJbA6alLulXPK5n35C9CKKQbrLhYOtJP72m1B1GWfc6S0YJ2gUDnW-aDPTZcJ9DCe7LfJxJsrEjyPqPI72LdT4PfxzQQkgBxUNFxsDgQ55HExXgLJrFQfOqH0uykGJtf1v78-sBRrw6IF3PFra8gc0svcasiwBIPkhTSPe8/s320/IMG_9378.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Mohican was another one of my favorite events of the year. From hanging out at camp with Simon (left), Anthony, Joe, Tanya, Thad, and others, to racing on rainy and wet trails for 9+ hours, it was a blast. I got 1st SS just ahead of Thad, and as you can see we were both quite muddy!</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6X9tFWqfjxJshDp1iPa4h8QZ4wLha8YkPuwt-auVsJXFbGyuImg-pU6mciCAzdDKxsGQuzCPTK5mxnnBwbj2gazycWdbqu6E9dJeP9LBcmS4o5RBHCexAKvIGaK7RHydAY9CHPHRBnVGEFR1T_4PB2_Vx7OvcDJ118parQHlJdMOuDf23QL4iVhZj0q8/s4032/IMG_2911.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6X9tFWqfjxJshDp1iPa4h8QZ4wLha8YkPuwt-auVsJXFbGyuImg-pU6mciCAzdDKxsGQuzCPTK5mxnnBwbj2gazycWdbqu6E9dJeP9LBcmS4o5RBHCexAKvIGaK7RHydAY9CHPHRBnVGEFR1T_4PB2_Vx7OvcDJ118parQHlJdMOuDf23QL4iVhZj0q8/s320/IMG_2911.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">After Mohican, I drove to Cleveland to meet Ed to help provide support to Will during his Cleveland Marathon run. Will ended up winning!</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKhFZK0r9QbK7O4YWkfmkipAqx6CG3AnnhFCz0fKycSMjLQZg5YgTZ0m5m_CoToxxpWYa6OcmluXPY8FufH0hUGLvGrzOYC2s1Ky9JhgK4GNjmCohttrvxPrmu0RIgZ1JOkXLlCG3zvQbY5z85HwjkHVqCQwslmYeJn0GLrmq55jWOoomdmcjPU4pueCc/s4032/IMG_5392.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKhFZK0r9QbK7O4YWkfmkipAqx6CG3AnnhFCz0fKycSMjLQZg5YgTZ0m5m_CoToxxpWYa6OcmluXPY8FufH0hUGLvGrzOYC2s1Ky9JhgK4GNjmCohttrvxPrmu0RIgZ1JOkXLlCG3zvQbY5z85HwjkHVqCQwslmYeJn0GLrmq55jWOoomdmcjPU4pueCc/s320/IMG_5392.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQmI__bZ0UlqEvzf8XHiailf_d-w-C73816nuxxVVQPVz9Ff_JFpiA4vnBIFEZtaXIJVUqPz3iqcdwN_lnrTV5ns3hW_3QGxwzQtXHGdg-x-UzIApG92uZiri856H5FzUYXB3OVAaL1hA_BvMq5SIwPHKMJ3DQB-oe0cGuTQmemiabvgOrABw2zQw6Qn8/s4032/IMG_5608.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQmI__bZ0UlqEvzf8XHiailf_d-w-C73816nuxxVVQPVz9Ff_JFpiA4vnBIFEZtaXIJVUqPz3iqcdwN_lnrTV5ns3hW_3QGxwzQtXHGdg-x-UzIApG92uZiri856H5FzUYXB3OVAaL1hA_BvMq5SIwPHKMJ3DQB-oe0cGuTQmemiabvgOrABw2zQw6Qn8/s320/IMG_5608.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">On the left is a sweet badlands view on the Maah Daah Hey Trail in North Dakota, and on the right is Devil's Tower in Wyoming. Both from June 2023.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyd8JBu0sVLgmovsqb-aRii0jT8d8VldtbRqRl9gnRHZIpQ-3Vl4arciET708wSEjKkM48ldyZZ-rDkdKOLbfn6-FG_qt9EWDxKdUEdpNrSf1ms8XRaF57l6mmhvtM7p1bxk8yH4rB1Pnr6XlGxhzKahyXAKQR2_YeQjx2cT9tZVNweEQHoYbB2Havj2Y/s4032/IMG_6306.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyd8JBu0sVLgmovsqb-aRii0jT8d8VldtbRqRl9gnRHZIpQ-3Vl4arciET708wSEjKkM48ldyZZ-rDkdKOLbfn6-FG_qt9EWDxKdUEdpNrSf1ms8XRaF57l6mmhvtM7p1bxk8yH4rB1Pnr6XlGxhzKahyXAKQR2_YeQjx2cT9tZVNweEQHoYbB2Havj2Y/s320/IMG_6306.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">The Great Western Trail near Park City, Utah with SS legend Dahn Pahrs.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9FaGSG2tD0mkh_9mei8SzrqLxWZfAqpNfZBTv8_uep_KrZae6BZ1SYrXNOSSKVDogK5vSpWxyEKSkFT9RhG2cspxPYwYODXt5clGx0asQJVpafudA07HJMDOCDD0bN79ceOpp1fK8MVA8oOiTG79gzJi0V5nuiTdztZcofzbhlfDlj92hHhHIzKNjr4A/s4032/IMG_6377.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9FaGSG2tD0mkh_9mei8SzrqLxWZfAqpNfZBTv8_uep_KrZae6BZ1SYrXNOSSKVDogK5vSpWxyEKSkFT9RhG2cspxPYwYODXt5clGx0asQJVpafudA07HJMDOCDD0bN79ceOpp1fK8MVA8oOiTG79gzJi0V5nuiTdztZcofzbhlfDlj92hHhHIzKNjr4A/s320/IMG_6377.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqTUeM-8wkjbHP23-BbgTw8UzMsDsVgfR5y0zueeaoSayj-F9xCZ9A5ulgm9DUixJsuzr4YdJ8sBfIAmH7yLWejxM6yZiwWWxAT2eeT5M9ShLcCgJy3amRDYoufBYYYj1AC0qqqoMnaws151oP5L-Sd9vz-7gGetEvYrzPo7kOBq2MPAwlvcUYjs9C1EM/s4032/IMG_6382.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqTUeM-8wkjbHP23-BbgTw8UzMsDsVgfR5y0zueeaoSayj-F9xCZ9A5ulgm9DUixJsuzr4YdJ8sBfIAmH7yLWejxM6yZiwWWxAT2eeT5M9ShLcCgJy3amRDYoufBYYYj1AC0qqqoMnaws151oP5L-Sd9vz-7gGetEvYrzPo7kOBq2MPAwlvcUYjs9C1EM/s320/IMG_6382.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Hiking through the snow in June(!) with DAHN PAHRS on the Wasatch Crest Trail.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgutJupzpbz_POQN-bfqHB6OWasjKi_dO_BkPnwjrkdopWCS01xfpCDwHSX4bhYXrCdMgankmMtMFOjmCKG55EMDTHHWBSSSgT-xKeqwPktiQJwrppIgh67VN_TBqJrzYVuAZY4M-3PN-lQwP9JVedoqoz__rWsvnxi7zbiUBEH1oFTzaZDra0gbqyjW5A/s4032/IMG_6531.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgutJupzpbz_POQN-bfqHB6OWasjKi_dO_BkPnwjrkdopWCS01xfpCDwHSX4bhYXrCdMgankmMtMFOjmCKG55EMDTHHWBSSSgT-xKeqwPktiQJwrppIgh67VN_TBqJrzYVuAZY4M-3PN-lQwP9JVedoqoz__rWsvnxi7zbiUBEH1oFTzaZDra0gbqyjW5A/s320/IMG_6531.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Ellicottville, NY trails with my family over 4th of July weekend.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT3Xk6y1cW3w9qujSkkHulbVWibE6UUnkgdVLrH7IIoP-ARqVTZ_rcM6KBR88_RBli1muQQNnH5KTH7_8WZOOrH8YUEy8nOGUlZnO_aujjt8NhSeaJptW_WV6kO7_izD9rbsADPYCGqloE2OPJp9BXo2MhRGN-7YSThsTfZQ_tHZWL6sc8ZKJDqYdoTq0/s4032/IMG_6745.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT3Xk6y1cW3w9qujSkkHulbVWibE6UUnkgdVLrH7IIoP-ARqVTZ_rcM6KBR88_RBli1muQQNnH5KTH7_8WZOOrH8YUEy8nOGUlZnO_aujjt8NhSeaJptW_WV6kO7_izD9rbsADPYCGqloE2OPJp9BXo2MhRGN-7YSThsTfZQ_tHZWL6sc8ZKJDqYdoTq0/s320/IMG_6745.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBItGyzNTsRZhMrq9KUYT6zwWdZg0fK3w-GemS4FbIS5vncH3m83qFT71V-2_ywwlRfAS3rrB4pTWx668V-6k8oL-oIcg5Wq_x5Up-6tnuPXVOrbnuYPjZ45CnVrVvT9wFgdwIE7WRwC7j7j-mGwOhYGl68sSzPTzWnIt0A5AXqdLMAlU6W5Z5gSCneCo/s4032/IMG_6688.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBItGyzNTsRZhMrq9KUYT6zwWdZg0fK3w-GemS4FbIS5vncH3m83qFT71V-2_ywwlRfAS3rrB4pTWx668V-6k8oL-oIcg5Wq_x5Up-6tnuPXVOrbnuYPjZ45CnVrVvT9wFgdwIE7WRwC7j7j-mGwOhYGl68sSzPTzWnIt0A5AXqdLMAlU6W5Z5gSCneCo/s320/IMG_6688.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Maryland trail riding with Ian. The view on the right is from a mountaintop near Mt. St. Mary's, the school where Ian goes and where I helped Ian run a bike camp for kids in July.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjScLpu4FwjpElSh195qgxZ4Xfxkik5ePtczGRRJj-iz38NrPBJp1NLr4or5Z3MlJRoPCcTKQkzjQHj2GLZwjpvn55opcMF9_XTnNB5l3yO1vpwEyhz8xAW7fPT7fbI7vs4CPqPRBb32PLjNQkvRhcW2tgXduKkRF-ocacqTmJPWhh3EaESp60RTv-5Juk/s4032/IMG_6847.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjScLpu4FwjpElSh195qgxZ4Xfxkik5ePtczGRRJj-iz38NrPBJp1NLr4or5Z3MlJRoPCcTKQkzjQHj2GLZwjpvn55opcMF9_XTnNB5l3yO1vpwEyhz8xAW7fPT7fbI7vs4CPqPRBb32PLjNQkvRhcW2tgXduKkRF-ocacqTmJPWhh3EaESp60RTv-5Juk/s320/IMG_6847.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Zach, Simon, and I did a pre-ride before Wilderness 101 on Tussey Ridge, and we stopped here because a massive rattlesnake was in the trail. Eventually, we shooed the snake away and we continued on.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMBkl7VCNVhkgBmtAt2-veA14kDBNcgtaILLRjXzdcIh8duzJyFK-qrc6ma7KfkailjRFlI55VvHes8AWV2funrrVFt6KuhQlV7Lzt92scuX-VNxwK8lvQ8l6NyJ_w1Xfpe0iMQqswmXPO2JNuUHiElVH7rpT3E0JpZY1Q6ozmwZgjPLntzVwCStg7I4/s2135/IMG_9664%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1601" data-original-width="2135" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMBkl7VCNVhkgBmtAt2-veA14kDBNcgtaILLRjXzdcIh8duzJyFK-qrc6ma7KfkailjRFlI55VvHes8AWV2funrrVFt6KuhQlV7Lzt92scuX-VNxwK8lvQ8l6NyJ_w1Xfpe0iMQqswmXPO2JNuUHiElVH7rpT3E0JpZY1Q6ozmwZgjPLntzVwCStg7I4/s320/IMG_9664%202.HEIC" width="320" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Wilderness 101! It sort of feels like my home race after going to Penn State, and I was happy to get the win even despite not feeling great.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7sJWmcn2P3jf7XoiVJ12xSkMSmAa_OtK5_zJWH8V28giWYqYVSrm1r3MTWlEz_8v8s4LGRiEFUThv62CFlrs_BL2vV0LMTX6E6DFyfUr0IPXXhnGzaZdEJ-cPQjkHI0wgQE1UBjBxHrqCrA8DoswQ8qFsdifZsKdti6IEgXQmEIFoY_vEMn_J8c0EMMU/s4032/IMG_4961.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7sJWmcn2P3jf7XoiVJ12xSkMSmAa_OtK5_zJWH8V28giWYqYVSrm1r3MTWlEz_8v8s4LGRiEFUThv62CFlrs_BL2vV0LMTX6E6DFyfUr0IPXXhnGzaZdEJ-cPQjkHI0wgQE1UBjBxHrqCrA8DoswQ8qFsdifZsKdti6IEgXQmEIFoY_vEMn_J8c0EMMU/s320/IMG_4961.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBWWM9JMTrRZj8tkANCiFm7eKuXwByiiwBW5y_YITFq-MmxmRmcTj0CO5Csat3hFwxhkbcdXwuH57qZfP0Oe7S9YFPhfaH1hFiCOkU4ZCTwGyLHnbxoW23wB_lAU1bZhbR7Kgr0qCJECPCxd4Vse9Tx_Ow-_Kgz5p98SseCHkaCXtxK7vOgsijLuJGrWY/s4032/IMG_4958.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBWWM9JMTrRZj8tkANCiFm7eKuXwByiiwBW5y_YITFq-MmxmRmcTj0CO5Csat3hFwxhkbcdXwuH57qZfP0Oe7S9YFPhfaH1hFiCOkU4ZCTwGyLHnbxoW23wB_lAU1bZhbR7Kgr0qCJECPCxd4Vse9Tx_Ow-_Kgz5p98SseCHkaCXtxK7vOgsijLuJGrWY/s320/IMG_4958.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">On the left is my favorite view again of Penn's Creek, but this time in full summer foliage. On the right is a summer view of Tussey Ridge.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVeLfeD6plIN90Yu36PN3jOKskNz4FykzOLcNOBqhMEQX-YLTHEzUdiz3i0ClW0g2zWmTwXaa0igy4cUHUZZYZiiCMkc77UZOVzpZEj3GiyzrOYNRw8v5xo5ar3tgckKr4ts8hPnQmqJVvft_HFhY7q00tDzgFNDZ40PhebAatPiz7aSdymKcf-AZHEhY/s4032/IMG_7274.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVeLfeD6plIN90Yu36PN3jOKskNz4FykzOLcNOBqhMEQX-YLTHEzUdiz3i0ClW0g2zWmTwXaa0igy4cUHUZZYZiiCMkc77UZOVzpZEj3GiyzrOYNRw8v5xo5ar3tgckKr4ts8hPnQmqJVvft_HFhY7q00tDzgFNDZ40PhebAatPiz7aSdymKcf-AZHEhY/s320/IMG_7274.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Great Sand Dunes National Park in Colorado with my family.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTCcQNDNrSBgDo9RniSv5eqUVchuRCq0jKBNpDRc2WIj9vTYqMZOoKHKVgoG2Lz8OksL9c4h4D7-kLfw5l_GfVFOvNTm1Px1XeUm8bbQZBgmU3JoXdhWK1nOap2SdPKEhTetJmhrmJ06jF1KsDXg2S1bAkd_tx842yzwRvJedqVym6ro8M_n8rk6ZE3O8/s4032/IMG_7625%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTCcQNDNrSBgDo9RniSv5eqUVchuRCq0jKBNpDRc2WIj9vTYqMZOoKHKVgoG2Lz8OksL9c4h4D7-kLfw5l_GfVFOvNTm1Px1XeUm8bbQZBgmU3JoXdhWK1nOap2SdPKEhTetJmhrmJ06jF1KsDXg2S1bAkd_tx842yzwRvJedqVym6ro8M_n8rk6ZE3O8/s320/IMG_7625%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Some supreme high-alpine riding in Colorado.The Colorado Trail near Durango with Zach.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP_hr8HmIhPEyc-PiTF9Qz_0F7mDptRBOJUzdVG6dM-OlTsWdvs_5-zgMhOQ3R-iOOunKeVSXhojBUO0xr8np1RDFcW8sUJx5JJwNBcizM_pnN_9KWd4P1-LNob364FtmHibR7cAtn_gbPppKrh46g7JaEUNag5ampSq_7jhRlo2Mo89HSC6KrDBBtQB8/s4032/IMG_7674%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP_hr8HmIhPEyc-PiTF9Qz_0F7mDptRBOJUzdVG6dM-OlTsWdvs_5-zgMhOQ3R-iOOunKeVSXhojBUO0xr8np1RDFcW8sUJx5JJwNBcizM_pnN_9KWd4P1-LNob364FtmHibR7cAtn_gbPppKrh46g7JaEUNag5ampSq_7jhRlo2Mo89HSC6KrDBBtQB8/s320/IMG_7674%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">More sweet Colorado Trail with Zach.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZT3F8SKITpt28ZAXEZJ7KJJZxxao61P6iIOtNIjmpc7oIdgFhqAwdZbe2R7LbbxeFxarhxr9NwM7H8Ej2qEpybPu6WBLiZSkYcY4VrShHh6lZYlbr3Ume7tUPfYDqM-mKYMZ_2mOh12PgfYGMTotw1S_wGgwBcWwBh20PMOXuVh92gaRS6QsNsf_Re-s/s4032/IMG_4453.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZT3F8SKITpt28ZAXEZJ7KJJZxxao61P6iIOtNIjmpc7oIdgFhqAwdZbe2R7LbbxeFxarhxr9NwM7H8Ej2qEpybPu6WBLiZSkYcY4VrShHh6lZYlbr3Ume7tUPfYDqM-mKYMZ_2mOh12PgfYGMTotw1S_wGgwBcWwBh20PMOXuVh92gaRS6QsNsf_Re-s/s320/IMG_4453.JPEG" width="320" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Breck Epic pre-riding with Dan and Chris.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ6SRf6nxDEFF8dkvTSwObUCR0rQ7iNQiStX1Hj_uaajLuS8j8BlmFkC68407bjA8MtgPg2uVA051dz_X-yLRAoyw6kQLISyppViMriTvtrVM9WyGffbjepETAVHv4kNqK6XUoK6I4DTRzs_XVsKImhfr9knMPRalFdDIk2w7oeXunkuPxTTb1pOLAEZE/s4032/IMG_8246.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ6SRf6nxDEFF8dkvTSwObUCR0rQ7iNQiStX1Hj_uaajLuS8j8BlmFkC68407bjA8MtgPg2uVA051dz_X-yLRAoyw6kQLISyppViMriTvtrVM9WyGffbjepETAVHv4kNqK6XUoK6I4DTRzs_XVsKImhfr9knMPRalFdDIk2w7oeXunkuPxTTb1pOLAEZE/s320/IMG_8246.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-IqIkq1QP_J1NsG5y7VE85xux8xsGzXzb11iHATlYNgEl_Tw-Z8EIweE5nSm8KdW9tOSjkZhfu_zwmjzwVoOzhZYZmLkqqOK4YVCSklRZ7kkbeoJY50oHkBUpB5y2KJnFTNtj0ELPD-idQxYTSWiNuEShksTBz9kTCcUIukN2Gs6FdOYn_Fc_e-2Psik/s4032/IMG_8193.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-IqIkq1QP_J1NsG5y7VE85xux8xsGzXzb11iHATlYNgEl_Tw-Z8EIweE5nSm8KdW9tOSjkZhfu_zwmjzwVoOzhZYZmLkqqOK4YVCSklRZ7kkbeoJY50oHkBUpB5y2KJnFTNtj0ELPD-idQxYTSWiNuEShksTBz9kTCcUIukN2Gs6FdOYn_Fc_e-2Psik/s320/IMG_8193.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Breck Epic. The non-bike racing stuff.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitTa87f78v-vjYW96GKXnyYEceEVxbMcUdLln1sqmShU1Qcg1JPBx8yt4GXdC85iwY3uzyW5bb5IgcyWWPc_gSOwQuE8MaTt0uSjJRpYmXNE_Od3vv6VY_NQ7s2vhQXBEc3xaOBHoyGWAnC4R3bVJSHnNYxUq-qbyTz03lxvGd7_eTT8E35pk9DhBll0/s2048/IMG_8395.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitTa87f78v-vjYW96GKXnyYEceEVxbMcUdLln1sqmShU1Qcg1JPBx8yt4GXdC85iwY3uzyW5bb5IgcyWWPc_gSOwQuE8MaTt0uSjJRpYmXNE_Od3vv6VY_NQ7s2vhQXBEc3xaOBHoyGWAnC4R3bVJSHnNYxUq-qbyTz03lxvGd7_eTT8E35pk9DhBll0/s320/IMG_8395.JPG" width="240" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">And the bike-racing stuff.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAA9BiunNSdxT8zfwEEMOXcU3EnhHjLO-d7mk67Ge1D_V9feInUd-Ar6KibPx3pWCx8AQg2-YsLkgqGgWdQ0Ur5V-sGyebEc0sH8K4ETAdjfx5z5mAFFn-9x3PFXdxviLNvTtHkVRvg01SHTh_cy7pQaN5AHD00P52er7kRF1t2tIIVGTUbOxeD3iY_eg/s1170/IMG_8404%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1155" data-original-width="1170" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAA9BiunNSdxT8zfwEEMOXcU3EnhHjLO-d7mk67Ge1D_V9feInUd-Ar6KibPx3pWCx8AQg2-YsLkgqGgWdQ0Ur5V-sGyebEc0sH8K4ETAdjfx5z5mAFFn-9x3PFXdxviLNvTtHkVRvg01SHTh_cy7pQaN5AHD00P52er7kRF1t2tIIVGTUbOxeD3iY_eg/w281-h277/IMG_8404%202.jpg" width="281" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4qCOe76ZR80sSon3H6vnuuuE_RJxCTaGdfkVzz7rb_LSsfSEzh_gG4sb77M6T_MyMrGnilMWuEo4tjcPDb_5_beoRVv8r7SulpBFbDidVA35fXN5gV2p4G8Qq4q3Ncir-TR8YQwbZ-aB2uXBqxdAfOzAhUce5I9wcjOdsRYBI_WZYt0NEexs5D5rU2Do/s1080/5B129F5F-50CD-4593-B9A2-34789C31C046%202.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="813" data-original-width="1080" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4qCOe76ZR80sSon3H6vnuuuE_RJxCTaGdfkVzz7rb_LSsfSEzh_gG4sb77M6T_MyMrGnilMWuEo4tjcPDb_5_beoRVv8r7SulpBFbDidVA35fXN5gV2p4G8Qq4q3Ncir-TR8YQwbZ-aB2uXBqxdAfOzAhUce5I9wcjOdsRYBI_WZYt0NEexs5D5rU2Do/s320/5B129F5F-50CD-4593-B9A2-34789C31C046%202.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A mix of drinking and bike racing?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZztBj2RcRYBbPNQFGu0QkudI566y95LnBw8xgIfsiGugEE_vL2ANeiCocMPFIHw_3X6aTDcQ6i-0Mv3_xEyVvfKdhQmfozgJOFQkvd0O8gKfGh5XO2atsK7Y4qDNBPmf-q_Z2mamRa1VlFwMdn4txMi-c0sbyy5CpHjIfyO7FovYW69qjvf1Rlz8ljNc/s4032/IMG_6587.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZztBj2RcRYBbPNQFGu0QkudI566y95LnBw8xgIfsiGugEE_vL2ANeiCocMPFIHw_3X6aTDcQ6i-0Mv3_xEyVvfKdhQmfozgJOFQkvd0O8gKfGh5XO2atsK7Y4qDNBPmf-q_Z2mamRa1VlFwMdn4txMi-c0sbyy5CpHjIfyO7FovYW69qjvf1Rlz8ljNc/s320/IMG_6587.JPEG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Podium at Breck. After stage 2? 3? Idk.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwhVHDHdcXiOdsiDDovT8VAaGUl9ZEmgSHvjVgOLQlRfsgwIfCM1D5xbrDTI5UlkR9j-sIvf1rEuRhepCbgcltD6fV9iDwnj31ftPgp_onnNX7oTEAKY6UaGmUenWkDCy5RQGFjS3b2BU0DNXta6Uh_e5FeFsswuMZrrGTumn0cS3s2AWwNwVhWzhVO6o/s4032/IMG_8642%203.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwhVHDHdcXiOdsiDDovT8VAaGUl9ZEmgSHvjVgOLQlRfsgwIfCM1D5xbrDTI5UlkR9j-sIvf1rEuRhepCbgcltD6fV9iDwnj31ftPgp_onnNX7oTEAKY6UaGmUenWkDCy5RQGFjS3b2BU0DNXta6Uh_e5FeFsswuMZrrGTumn0cS3s2AWwNwVhWzhVO6o/s320/IMG_8642%203.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The Onion. Always a blast with friends.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieFCzyCPxgNFCaC6R2gDcPm8MLpQ614C0Nr9OVq5JKBTi35BZjbEaMstd7b0eDEYipJNAutozkkA7BTCIfpL7Fum78ooVySw7gk5i0gio7irt2TDikyX2MVWkCXEzSRu9xMqBLSvi0k89Ntx7YxiE1U8PA6HbKJiJYBAq1W2BzqdUyE4Psna4ZzjPkc3w/s4032/IMG_8568.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieFCzyCPxgNFCaC6R2gDcPm8MLpQ614C0Nr9OVq5JKBTi35BZjbEaMstd7b0eDEYipJNAutozkkA7BTCIfpL7Fum78ooVySw7gk5i0gio7irt2TDikyX2MVWkCXEzSRu9xMqBLSvi0k89Ntx7YxiE1U8PA6HbKJiJYBAq1W2BzqdUyE4Psna4ZzjPkc3w/s320/IMG_8568.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfkUpk4uhZIZ1s9g4WpELTCl9r-mdhs71H66Hjnkrl6VLD52XffNcpzeHnLYbA0PwFogco-P5BUpr89EPRQFsx7VRZFqFtBe83yazGtVwNlmq0wEKsOckXB70PmSDdUJu_HYSpA25ZpR-bBxV5WXXVg2LOClxQGcIcpoK9RbpwU-mRwapg7maDz8F7gTo/s1442/IMG_8578.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1442" data-original-width="1170" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfkUpk4uhZIZ1s9g4WpELTCl9r-mdhs71H66Hjnkrl6VLD52XffNcpzeHnLYbA0PwFogco-P5BUpr89EPRQFsx7VRZFqFtBe83yazGtVwNlmq0wEKsOckXB70PmSDdUJu_HYSpA25ZpR-bBxV5WXXVg2LOClxQGcIcpoK9RbpwU-mRwapg7maDz8F7gTo/s320/IMG_8578.jpg" width="260" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Shenandoah 100! A fantastic weekend in Virginia. Simon got up at 5am to make coffee and get Stick and I ready for our race. We both got on the podium, and Simon won his 100k race the day before.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyD69kF3o75WcCgspKyMB1DwHE0_8rEluvwAm1c8qpmczru2v0s5oQJXy94-yoaSejmxNhgVZgI44Lxx2j0grl-2cETKwbNKOVm6EyLEAwh6jjOYyIff0lsIryCEUmw2I257Uz6ByKCyBnHQmGknA1vxInA92ZcwI5BfmxX6-wSdCY8WwsAqPp-iPBQ6s/s4032/IMG_8811%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyD69kF3o75WcCgspKyMB1DwHE0_8rEluvwAm1c8qpmczru2v0s5oQJXy94-yoaSejmxNhgVZgI44Lxx2j0grl-2cETKwbNKOVm6EyLEAwh6jjOYyIff0lsIryCEUmw2I257Uz6ByKCyBnHQmGknA1vxInA92ZcwI5BfmxX6-wSdCY8WwsAqPp-iPBQ6s/s320/IMG_8811%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLuWDd66__xAlzlOa2XbFc_t2ErF6yPNvoH2pNydFRWS3d_GwBYTvfAianZ9bBB5Ij_X41Lj8JsXFstB9U909LTMtoln312Dhl95nvbazix1cRYAWk_8uvvKNUhXRzd1FaHplcRbQ_4bDrAVWMXgszRw0ivYpOUdwjyC9LOg_u5zlGp0Ju3_ak7NjFlME/s4032/IMG_8858.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLuWDd66__xAlzlOa2XbFc_t2ErF6yPNvoH2pNydFRWS3d_GwBYTvfAianZ9bBB5Ij_X41Lj8JsXFstB9U909LTMtoln312Dhl95nvbazix1cRYAWk_8uvvKNUhXRzd1FaHplcRbQ_4bDrAVWMXgszRw0ivYpOUdwjyC9LOg_u5zlGp0Ju3_ak7NjFlME/s320/IMG_8858.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Marji Gesick. Probably the most rewarding race of the year for me. Jim and I rode together until he flatted, and we both persevered solo to get the belt buckle (only 10 buckles given out this year).</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuSe4ZTCJjXG1VkJv5X-Z6_K8O_7Fy2v7sRZJbKV_UcVRS_f0Eb6RGbARMwIRbrdrpPSd6eHwvZ9ttpi9cKWS2JPzS62dqu-x_BR7VyAmXQ5409qiXsmIUg7xqkwlQ32C1tHLv90M3s_XE7-wJHu3kzoPLUfNKUsNjjV47t4SawJY94J_j2kJccX_CMC4/s4032/IMG_8865.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuSe4ZTCJjXG1VkJv5X-Z6_K8O_7Fy2v7sRZJbKV_UcVRS_f0Eb6RGbARMwIRbrdrpPSd6eHwvZ9ttpi9cKWS2JPzS62dqu-x_BR7VyAmXQ5409qiXsmIUg7xqkwlQ32C1tHLv90M3s_XE7-wJHu3kzoPLUfNKUsNjjV47t4SawJY94J_j2kJccX_CMC4/s320/IMG_8865.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnhjM0JBmq9hKM3X4OmtYUAnB8hfRTZ0k0pX7r5WfBQqtKj4uXh87NrH2NY4hxzzC2p9sSBSyf3_MF8zZ0AnRRKKX2NopKbReOixhHRzonYC-b8MrXB5coe3aRuXyaK5BQms-Pj9YxOZ5Xr2Dg5iseCyMwrrprPzuaB-t9psdxQmX6SvZHdqhNnkHH8-0/s4032/IMG_8913.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnhjM0JBmq9hKM3X4OmtYUAnB8hfRTZ0k0pX7r5WfBQqtKj4uXh87NrH2NY4hxzzC2p9sSBSyf3_MF8zZ0AnRRKKX2NopKbReOixhHRzonYC-b8MrXB5coe3aRuXyaK5BQms-Pj9YxOZ5Xr2Dg5iseCyMwrrprPzuaB-t9psdxQmX6SvZHdqhNnkHH8-0/s320/IMG_8913.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Messing around at the AirBNB before Marji, and driving back home with Simon. It's the fun little things like this that make race weekends so fun for me.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-wBDG5D-ATbcJ-CET2VZdBK3vhFPAFGjC7zDNYftcht-1VpplWqrbev10MO-Z-H8mS_UsJAfSWDjrGF8HRJ3Ee9tn6EnhIObfIZX9VtPYYgD_9p0dlwsFDu8NwcbcV0ZC3iq-d4p93PObwMaPqtYvxbR-psXnQO3FoQyaqEKfLXQ1hnIBbBnCuOtNIQQ/s2048/IMG_8866%202.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-wBDG5D-ATbcJ-CET2VZdBK3vhFPAFGjC7zDNYftcht-1VpplWqrbev10MO-Z-H8mS_UsJAfSWDjrGF8HRJ3Ee9tn6EnhIObfIZX9VtPYYgD_9p0dlwsFDu8NwcbcV0ZC3iq-d4p93PObwMaPqtYvxbR-psXnQO3FoQyaqEKfLXQ1hnIBbBnCuOtNIQQ/s320/IMG_8866%202.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The Marji buckle class of 2023.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdmEf17C7WyWBI_-k9t96cdyBYMUyqabJl97dD6Z3WnOHZaOoE2noQ4xsJZ9JF045lewinmhrgq8Khpe7XrZoqmeqDmacY1NrBbqtwL-BkxGQLjJAUF0eAEdJcd7ef6R-GL6kCNaEZJnwCpgs0ctAK3URpwu6JexGEY-OBlVzElKuLSAJPO-0hEzWS24k/s4032/IMG_9252%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdmEf17C7WyWBI_-k9t96cdyBYMUyqabJl97dD6Z3WnOHZaOoE2noQ4xsJZ9JF045lewinmhrgq8Khpe7XrZoqmeqDmacY1NrBbqtwL-BkxGQLjJAUF0eAEdJcd7ef6R-GL6kCNaEZJnwCpgs0ctAK3URpwu6JexGEY-OBlVzElKuLSAJPO-0hEzWS24k/s320/IMG_9252%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtXMemzo2joK2mug_rqxl3Jtc0KQ2f2KtxQ0ccjVMAKOI2oIX-xE2rgMM1l1ytCZuWypIPjMh-UMiHotumK_3ar_Fty5WAtkxx5dXtb-IIEzhAXCYz_rSJLsWSzj51dTpEwrpCrjZWT69ftD2k21uqOO06d2o1Q8QLW85KazHSE2haFBIHei1d3f6pZY/s4032/IMG_9273.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtXMemzo2joK2mug_rqxl3Jtc0KQ2f2KtxQ0ccjVMAKOI2oIX-xE2rgMM1l1ytCZuWypIPjMh-UMiHotumK_3ar_Fty5WAtkxx5dXtb-IIEzhAXCYz_rSJLsWSzj51dTpEwrpCrjZWT69ftD2k21uqOO06d2o1Q8QLW85KazHSE2haFBIHei1d3f6pZY/s320/IMG_9273.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Getting Hawg Wild with Zach (and Stick) before the Pisgah 111. That was a fun race in Pisgah.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwUE8lKtYZbz6h4irQ5ZDw9s0hasU7IykTaKMS_fy0dTkxKuxjrw4LRdsI6xYSTiEwTzQvphH_SulGNui8ig9Dne_jpzbqiUR434gi22TR4yeOB1Li7u6KZG5TchyFbfpPc9MfEnPJ7CGPf6w5HOTKuFkUMSicZI5FHhIYrjH9FYiekNlnlBIfHHnyUgc/s4032/IMG_4674.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwUE8lKtYZbz6h4irQ5ZDw9s0hasU7IykTaKMS_fy0dTkxKuxjrw4LRdsI6xYSTiEwTzQvphH_SulGNui8ig9Dne_jpzbqiUR434gi22TR4yeOB1Li7u6KZG5TchyFbfpPc9MfEnPJ7CGPf6w5HOTKuFkUMSicZI5FHhIYrjH9FYiekNlnlBIfHHnyUgc/s320/IMG_4674.HEIC" width="180" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP2zo4dKp0nwCLEzENJUPiqnJG-4i2iEWl0z4JHASBIUXgncBxqjZhBzQi1-dfAPWOlG6Gb8eYlI3QourXRiLrlVkQW51Jz6YksNQOQrhm-goIyWk2Eabhh4m9lW1twywr2QVu4xYx9rl_2xYlar_Ga8sbNENIjZO7CYUyVCRExeQqI7TLa2gc5n4c5yM/s4032/IMG_9606.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP2zo4dKp0nwCLEzENJUPiqnJG-4i2iEWl0z4JHASBIUXgncBxqjZhBzQi1-dfAPWOlG6Gb8eYlI3QourXRiLrlVkQW51Jz6YksNQOQrhm-goIyWk2Eabhh4m9lW1twywr2QVu4xYx9rl_2xYlar_Ga8sbNENIjZO7CYUyVCRExeQqI7TLa2gc5n4c5yM/s320/IMG_9606.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I got back up to Rothrock in November with Stick, and we got to stay at a sweet cabin (thanks Erik and Bob!). Brad even stayed with us Saturday night and we got to hear him give a masterclass on a guitar.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOZITK6Cf9jbNn5Dw9hNGjnUSqYoBeh9t-gLZfdv4gB91BzmpaPxUCOq0g1nKuQ6ERMJZG8Mf_skmpCESVlU6PeTj7pNAj9_mIvtDAcB7WmUzvO6YRwpKH1MbIcg8KmEpFCzPgxfckORAyO-KtV1dpF0Xe0gQ4_0-7R1nhb83WGOfrkjpVfYVM2zQd09s/s4032/IMG_9597.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOZITK6Cf9jbNn5Dw9hNGjnUSqYoBeh9t-gLZfdv4gB91BzmpaPxUCOq0g1nKuQ6ERMJZG8Mf_skmpCESVlU6PeTj7pNAj9_mIvtDAcB7WmUzvO6YRwpKH1MbIcg8KmEpFCzPgxfckORAyO-KtV1dpF0Xe0gQ4_0-7R1nhb83WGOfrkjpVfYVM2zQd09s/s320/IMG_9597.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPgGXVl5-NrwdTAv3TzWcFrAUPDng8M74yCUZ3MFveSvZ9WHCLSHC4EJo5UMC1ExNo1e3h0SDCVkI5NWu0j9gZ3uZgXsQrq3tKEg14mnA9iiNCqK3nyiRHlrw6vK6NciU3CmvrrA1xzgb_qlB5ko6CoANjVwVqUQBYNbNjC_dt6Lui6M8xRgDDpRsdGh8/s4032/IMG_9569%203.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPgGXVl5-NrwdTAv3TzWcFrAUPDng8M74yCUZ3MFveSvZ9WHCLSHC4EJo5UMC1ExNo1e3h0SDCVkI5NWu0j9gZ3uZgXsQrq3tKEg14mnA9iiNCqK3nyiRHlrw6vK6NciU3CmvrrA1xzgb_qlB5ko6CoANjVwVqUQBYNbNjC_dt6Lui6M8xRgDDpRsdGh8/s320/IMG_9569%203.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Anders on Tussey Ridge (left) and Stick (right) going down Wildcat Trail.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvlGLe4iE_NTH0mhv_UUA404CupLZNnX5fZvKQ-3yVbzl_vdXcas7xh-Un4m1pu30fq5ut5HxWZnbJsE4vVP0LlB2ai3FvBW-MFMcr4goay6gHllkk7FBU9rPwfsU4iE4UQOSIHblNV222FjjtyJfhjTiwkb-weoohwT7IrBX9R7vrVODU6xwiV_N3Q0/s4032/IMG_0249.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvlGLe4iE_NTH0mhv_UUA404CupLZNnX5fZvKQ-3yVbzl_vdXcas7xh-Un4m1pu30fq5ut5HxWZnbJsE4vVP0LlB2ai3FvBW-MFMcr4goay6gHllkk7FBU9rPwfsU4iE4UQOSIHblNV222FjjtyJfhjTiwkb-weoohwT7IrBX9R7vrVODU6xwiV_N3Q0/s320/IMG_0249.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjwjElvHvQAqJpIyCgcw5fHxBW2nVx0wPgKg5J0dhGmQGJesVTFupQFmxfTylFCfUVdYo656Ya-wB3fVzqcn85KFq1N_1zgsi4_UfXdFy8-lSPyYjctms2O7LZMdbQMophbxsdMJ7Je81iWtEhGR4-3_sOSCdj9dvzfqMCPOSZi8tkfFylrlMVNDd8ejY/s4032/IMG_0264.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjwjElvHvQAqJpIyCgcw5fHxBW2nVx0wPgKg5J0dhGmQGJesVTFupQFmxfTylFCfUVdYo656Ya-wB3fVzqcn85KFq1N_1zgsi4_UfXdFy8-lSPyYjctms2O7LZMdbQMophbxsdMJ7Je81iWtEhGR4-3_sOSCdj9dvzfqMCPOSZi8tkfFylrlMVNDd8ejY/s320/IMG_0264.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Florida garvel and palm trees in December.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2GLr0cNY4QKB7NpO3JX6wPH3tEcbbYadOZUsM4z0GEdGjHCFsT2lBUzfUw0kIaF9JJsD_wEMr3T4V1-5kHkjAocv35f2cwRgMwlbWga46aZPs_XSnpFrkc9SsQGb41W5Sr7QJIzbh-aUvhbMOl2uuRZO1EM1AbM89EqGnEm8qTQvgiWr3wiUn6SjXPlc/s4032/IMG_0240%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2GLr0cNY4QKB7NpO3JX6wPH3tEcbbYadOZUsM4z0GEdGjHCFsT2lBUzfUw0kIaF9JJsD_wEMr3T4V1-5kHkjAocv35f2cwRgMwlbWga46aZPs_XSnpFrkc9SsQGb41W5Sr7QJIzbh-aUvhbMOl2uuRZO1EM1AbM89EqGnEm8qTQvgiWr3wiUn6SjXPlc/s320/IMG_0240%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Zach crossing a swamp in Florida. He was none too pleased.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-55129064849551556342024-01-09T09:44:00.003-05:002024-01-09T09:45:24.374-05:00Southern Carve<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Some big gators on that trail, watch out."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"We'll keep an eye out!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">From what we'd read, alligators are pretty sluggish in the wintertime. Of course, high 50s may not feel like winter for a Yinzer like me, but for gators along the South Carolina coast just north of Savannah, that's winter.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJeiVqRbUn53XDr4w87ludEqOGKVTIMwprhCvc84VRhjP4SIqc1UH3Z3CJ1IwvHON9mil2rPIoUi1CqhiB_JqoII5a-u_43PDbvuGrRqpByoo7_2lLJpsgv0M8HnKuy22ffSzagE2VheqnCRFBNo8SzoQ8Fq8jhJfXVCjLdBIUdXa2xBvqJn-xzlwkGEw/s4032/IMG_0265.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJeiVqRbUn53XDr4w87ludEqOGKVTIMwprhCvc84VRhjP4SIqc1UH3Z3CJ1IwvHON9mil2rPIoUi1CqhiB_JqoII5a-u_43PDbvuGrRqpByoo7_2lLJpsgv0M8HnKuy22ffSzagE2VheqnCRFBNo8SzoQ8Fq8jhJfXVCjLdBIUdXa2xBvqJn-xzlwkGEw/s320/IMG_0265.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As the man promised, we saw several alligators along the trail, although none that I'd consider exceptionally big. This was the very first ride of our trip, a little hour cruise after driving all day, and seeing so many alligators on the ride seemed like it would set the tone for the rest of the trip. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But, as it turned out, those were the only alligators we saw the whole time. Instead, we saw manatees, a wild hog, and a hippopotamus. Yeth. A hippo. More on that later.</div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWm1k126q8x1uO6z3s3Vf1QwT0jekpuFnkpwLLzseQrNBV-yYlcz8mT5n_WMj64BAYo8tOBqUIUy51TXHBA2XqG7u0d0jULnOqVBpIaoBAkChYvFexZqVPddqDCgU-yiff5zn9HeUki8xnJAur3nomfCon6Rvnpdv2T2i0xeCRc6LC4yo6wny-U0MQGd0/s4032/IMG_0208.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWm1k126q8x1uO6z3s3Vf1QwT0jekpuFnkpwLLzseQrNBV-yYlcz8mT5n_WMj64BAYo8tOBqUIUy51TXHBA2XqG7u0d0jULnOqVBpIaoBAkChYvFexZqVPddqDCgU-yiff5zn9HeUki8xnJAur3nomfCon6Rvnpdv2T2i0xeCRc6LC4yo6wny-U0MQGd0/s320/IMG_0208.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div>We spent the night in a hotel just south of Savannah, and drove the last couple hours into Florida the next morning. First up on our itinerary was a three-day bikepacking loop in the Ocala National Forest, which would be Zach's first bikepacking trip.</div><div><br /></div><div>We parked at a dam in the northern part of the national forest and set out on the road. Almost immediately after turning onto a dirt (mostly sand I guess) forest road, we were greeted by the exact thing Zach vowed not to cross: sections of submerged road and swamp.</div><div><br /></div><div>To be honest, it wasn't really that bad. The water was never really more than knee-high, and there weren't any alligators in sight. It took awhile to convince him, but Zach eventually waded through.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDLLMHL5hh52BcPN2vM0dgbpAXXxYRRXo0YeQSyike3_xwqd1t3nJaVldPTTdu_Fpz9ztaBlCNoCgG4U1v0H5lGrW2TNxn3xnF0uq2KV9lTM5ZK0_wgV2Pwt7WIVwtGzELyHUsQqBaYNOBIzr0mlrzWfR32rkxuLggQTwHvhlqM6AT1CEx4sKKLJY45Tk/s4032/IMG_0240.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDLLMHL5hh52BcPN2vM0dgbpAXXxYRRXo0YeQSyike3_xwqd1t3nJaVldPTTdu_Fpz9ztaBlCNoCgG4U1v0H5lGrW2TNxn3xnF0uq2KV9lTM5ZK0_wgV2Pwt7WIVwtGzELyHUsQqBaYNOBIzr0mlrzWfR32rkxuLggQTwHvhlqM6AT1CEx4sKKLJY45Tk/s320/IMG_0240.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBLHUjYtzlzbeoVgUd3aEdx74Fn4-5okknVLJeh6XSmE8wwtbNlpHGCh5cXITQhZx5hC9DVf0zZ9CQdWQNxe8J5OTm7asF00OGaiTSfzqvlfkuGUOtOXg8xRBRVm2l7J9dfB7AsKfF8Oo-SZvpGvwsIibFM9WJXQM1apuNbt_H2TpXNQQdZUtTj1UNRpA/s4032/IMG_0244.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBLHUjYtzlzbeoVgUd3aEdx74Fn4-5okknVLJeh6XSmE8wwtbNlpHGCh5cXITQhZx5hC9DVf0zZ9CQdWQNxe8J5OTm7asF00OGaiTSfzqvlfkuGUOtOXg8xRBRVm2l7J9dfB7AsKfF8Oo-SZvpGvwsIibFM9WJXQM1apuNbt_H2TpXNQQdZUtTj1UNRpA/s320/IMG_0244.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The water and sand combined for some pretty awesome views as we were walking through the water. Luckily, though, that was the only wet section for the day, and the rest of the ride was dry. We stopped at a gas station for some snacks and food to eat at camp, and we got our first real taste of Florida. The gas station was fine, I guess, but it definitely seemed like <i>Florida</i>. Dirt-bike riding, cigarette smoking Florida. We were glad to get back to the forest roads.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlv50v2GgX5yP_GFGwHbv6AqYQy0yhQwZBaRYpjy4-L5JiLapA6Ng-dhEAT-SD75ykEnzN4fsf0lYOrAX5WW0PIA-ABt8PA6BSr-k6FUnuzd-VY6MXUiJNlMCQrecf9kGAYfPElPvRgck_uDuOaHmvgXkaBBjmqPFOlLiELQtio4SIR71P_BYvkliOrDc/s4032/IMG_0269.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlv50v2GgX5yP_GFGwHbv6AqYQy0yhQwZBaRYpjy4-L5JiLapA6Ng-dhEAT-SD75ykEnzN4fsf0lYOrAX5WW0PIA-ABt8PA6BSr-k6FUnuzd-VY6MXUiJNlMCQrecf9kGAYfPElPvRgck_uDuOaHmvgXkaBBjmqPFOlLiELQtio4SIR71P_BYvkliOrDc/s320/IMG_0269.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgawtB4rARe04MC1JKuv-7rTyHKrAVRIAPFRE5m4zMNaoueKw7nOGoRv6RUQHg6oHFT5296YKHKj054sRfvZq561Ae9QW7z7QdEG9ycJy3R4exSKMzoGJGvidPel5_j67BP1e0VRFolKtotwCNBvpBnG94Y_B-W0U4s5kvFCNNgXlw3RsQCjzVD99D7hgo/s4032/IMG_0273.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgawtB4rARe04MC1JKuv-7rTyHKrAVRIAPFRE5m4zMNaoueKw7nOGoRv6RUQHg6oHFT5296YKHKj054sRfvZq561Ae9QW7z7QdEG9ycJy3R4exSKMzoGJGvidPel5_j67BP1e0VRFolKtotwCNBvpBnG94Y_B-W0U4s5kvFCNNgXlw3RsQCjzVD99D7hgo/s320/IMG_0273.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Rather than a tent, I decided to bring my bivy. It's easier to set up, smaller, and it's sort of fun. Normally. In Florida, the extremely high humidity coupled with large temperature swings means there's plenty of condensation inside the bivy when you wake up.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Other than the bivy, everything else about the campsite was immaculate. Our camp neighbors gave us a beer when we got there, and then Zach and I wandered around the campground to check things out.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A spring - a <i>not-quite-hot</i> spring - feeds into a large natural-ish pool converted into a swimming area. The whole place was built by the Civilian Conservation Corps back in the 1930s. It's something you'd expect to find at a resort, not a public national forest campground. It was getting dark and we didn't have a change of clothes, so we didn't swim, but if we were car camping, I would've definitely taken a dip.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQrl8VlEs3nU6r543rnF7fNxE__soLZdO1DmYTYu6fDnFBwsCWXfjCYaJF1C9ToJ5JAV2TiwvBOnczGNiWEoDWXzj1OJT8OM1wxzzjffcXNRrHAY8XJ5MWu7_S7-CqtBdxEh49z-f9Mw03KU7s2ga9gG4u6CtejOo2a9N5SBzG73pF_WalAbit6xt94hM/s4032/IMG_0305%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQrl8VlEs3nU6r543rnF7fNxE__soLZdO1DmYTYu6fDnFBwsCWXfjCYaJF1C9ToJ5JAV2TiwvBOnczGNiWEoDWXzj1OJT8OM1wxzzjffcXNRrHAY8XJ5MWu7_S7-CqtBdxEh49z-f9Mw03KU7s2ga9gG4u6CtejOo2a9N5SBzG73pF_WalAbit6xt94hM/s320/IMG_0305%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTcJX07vz_yJQk_CvkapmXA2nBmX6FpNicwslpU2y_zb3veJT0IvtUB8TIHlluhwAvgyiTdp9S-XbPrgSyT1OWOv_-rN5qefmeL5BxBi0nAaFlUJZ0k51YZmUFjxREEmVfFcDpXAjr4mzKgHRCKtpKBi-pDjc01OrBddDAF2_BsXU9jZlnLBGZa8sLbzg/s4032/IMG_0312.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTcJX07vz_yJQk_CvkapmXA2nBmX6FpNicwslpU2y_zb3veJT0IvtUB8TIHlluhwAvgyiTdp9S-XbPrgSyT1OWOv_-rN5qefmeL5BxBi0nAaFlUJZ0k51YZmUFjxREEmVfFcDpXAjr4mzKgHRCKtpKBi-pDjc01OrBddDAF2_BsXU9jZlnLBGZa8sLbzg/s320/IMG_0312.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The next day started off by meandering our way to lunch. There was a good mix of forest roads, doubletrack trails, and a bit of pavement. Eventually, we made it to lunch, and what a lunch!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This was one of the rare occasions where it was a bit of a struggle to finish off all the food. The burger was huge, there were tons of fries and ordering an appetizer was probably ill-advised. Nonetheless, I finished it all and I didn't eat the rest of the day until some snacks at camp before bed.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRBfo37_EA9QUkd4HaYCkAcumJJ451XaWMDRHBGOqiwdFikZmBsAnt_O7aorLh-K3D3VdADIRwKYqA_GwEXF6x2RK4nWF7Z59vkKroC7Y1QulaCCKUkInm52HRRStxDiI-OaeY8RVeQIpArQ6dmHvTUpIzvB6fmBl7JNEfR2MTt6q7DxYozyVl0KtUqNs/s4032/IMG_0319.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRBfo37_EA9QUkd4HaYCkAcumJJ451XaWMDRHBGOqiwdFikZmBsAnt_O7aorLh-K3D3VdADIRwKYqA_GwEXF6x2RK4nWF7Z59vkKroC7Y1QulaCCKUkInm52HRRStxDiI-OaeY8RVeQIpArQ6dmHvTUpIzvB6fmBl7JNEfR2MTt6q7DxYozyVl0KtUqNs/s320/IMG_0319.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtkEEAAi_1dgs_5D_L730leICF4PpwYVacBarD7pMeEBMa2hrg823oQGnoO2P_4TZf3bCrNHpuqpOp8TH_ePPJLsPKFXNBAc0g-blQ6JR53K2QO1HtlYmIxFB591mglICPNrCMwpECW96V4xdwW6AS78Ce-xVEnH8x_x0LlLcL9uSDNMlHZ50UB5IBGMg/s4032/IMG_0381.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtkEEAAi_1dgs_5D_L730leICF4PpwYVacBarD7pMeEBMa2hrg823oQGnoO2P_4TZf3bCrNHpuqpOp8TH_ePPJLsPKFXNBAc0g-blQ6JR53K2QO1HtlYmIxFB591mglICPNrCMwpECW96V4xdwW6AS78Ce-xVEnH8x_x0LlLcL9uSDNMlHZ50UB5IBGMg/s320/IMG_0381.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We had learned that it was hunting season in Florida, which explained why the entire national forest was packed with pickup trucks, hunting dogs, and men giving us weird and unfriendly looks as we rode by. Ok, not everyone was unfriendly. But by and large the crowd of people in the forest wasn't the most friendly to cyclists.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That being said, one hunter did warn us of a black bear just up the road. Unfortunately, we didn't see the bear, but it was cool to know one was close. Now that I think about it, I'm not sure if the hunter who told us about the bear was trying to warn us, or if he was a hoping we'd get eaten. Hmm.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Shortly after the lunch stop, there was another water crossed, much to Zach's chagrin, but he made it through. Next up was a long stretch - 12 miles - of singletrack on the Paisley Trail. The trail was perfect for loaded bikes... smooth, relatively flat, and twisty fun. It was the most enjoyable riding of the whole bikepacking trip, and cool views the whole time only made it better. As an added bonus, the people we saw at the end of the trail on ATV's were really cool and friendly. I guess not all Florida people hate bikes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That night, we stayed at a much less fancy campground, mostly populated by OHV riders. To make matters more interesting, the camp host told us about a resident black bear supposedly living in a storage shed in the campground. She said it was hibernating, but I don't think bears hibernate in Florida. Oh well, bear or not, technical glitches with the national forest website made it so we didn't have to pay for our campsite, so it was well worth the money.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The next morning, we rode to a diner for breakfast where we eavesdropped on some senior citizen conversations, and then we started making our way back up north toward our car. There was a lot of sandy doubletrack on the way, with more than a few hunters, so it was a very interesting ride.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As we got back toward our car, we decided to take a little jaunt on a singletrack trail that shall remain unnamed (behks not allowed) and followed that for a couple miles back to our car. It was a pretty fantastic ending. All in all, the route was a little over 150 miles of mostly sand and dirt roads, plus some singletrack. Despite waking up completely soaked in my bivy the second morning, it was a successful trip and Zach managed pretty well for his first bikepacking trip.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I find that I learn something every trip I do, and this time, my big takeaway is not to use a bivy when it's a humid, high-temperature fluctuation climate like Florida. No bueno. That was only a minor inconvenience though, and getting to explore a national forest by bike is always fun.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXPOtjxXLbV1cW0U_a5YOgvsZHhBVIiCpo9O2K_8ZllTHkuF501E_cgtWVE1J86o8ayf2c38ONDHwhGfYElYdrlaeObRCwB45nuajq7A35GK3KCTXzKGRh1hL72VdFFtKlZjO9MznhyW68q7-mYMNC9PiRDsb9HAxNlkLHPoTuyksPOowmP3nrUQnPuPo/s1803/IMG_0424.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1803" data-original-width="1170" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXPOtjxXLbV1cW0U_a5YOgvsZHhBVIiCpo9O2K_8ZllTHkuF501E_cgtWVE1J86o8ayf2c38ONDHwhGfYElYdrlaeObRCwB45nuajq7A35GK3KCTXzKGRh1hL72VdFFtKlZjO9MznhyW68q7-mYMNC9PiRDsb9HAxNlkLHPoTuyksPOowmP3nrUQnPuPo/s320/IMG_0424.jpg" width="208" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinNEKS8QIPIgMwJGDm-AcJYJJUVBczk2LF9sgHtYKmP0kWCMB50ZxPAVDOMvfH04U5YjwKcEBEQubLmH2gAvIhUlz9n8_WTksSMbFCYbiLbtn9u-RtUOM_-iX4KhOtYIE2OriWw60g2V6GrwS1SUVSpurmczJGvHT6ZYBEJG-Ph4QXfl4b8BLV3_JWyQA/s4032/IMG_0436%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinNEKS8QIPIgMwJGDm-AcJYJJUVBczk2LF9sgHtYKmP0kWCMB50ZxPAVDOMvfH04U5YjwKcEBEQubLmH2gAvIhUlz9n8_WTksSMbFCYbiLbtn9u-RtUOM_-iX4KhOtYIE2OriWw60g2V6GrwS1SUVSpurmczJGvHT6ZYBEJG-Ph4QXfl4b8BLV3_JWyQA/s320/IMG_0436%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After the bikepacking trip, the plan was to do some day-rides on singletrack around the central Florida area. Up first was Alafia, a trail system to the east of Tampa Bay built on an old phosphate mine. Both Montana and Bob A. recommended the trail system, so we had to take a look.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Alafia certainly did not disappoint! The trails were super twisty, fairly technical for Florida, and offered some great swamp views. I even hit a pretty big jump (for a hardtail rider of my limited skill level). Zach and I ended up riding 20 miles at Alafia, which felt like a lot since the whole trail system is packed in to a pretty small area. For anyone going down to that area in Florida, I'd highly recommend giving these trails a go.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf478U-seD3mOHwnPA7vcRxNUIibDjQlMgPxLMcSyU04Aq4yF0JWEgOTBkk6Ey6yJ80-jV9DHavjASHzfCWcJFFNBZwHnmjbn73oT5XqIagMIYDCqHP6_BeYU1aP577oyDdisNoSULziHQ5_F4RrVveGBiZg2X2Or9ub26VGtJpwVQ9siOl7Vddrv9YCE/s4032/IMG_0439.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf478U-seD3mOHwnPA7vcRxNUIibDjQlMgPxLMcSyU04Aq4yF0JWEgOTBkk6Ey6yJ80-jV9DHavjASHzfCWcJFFNBZwHnmjbn73oT5XqIagMIYDCqHP6_BeYU1aP577oyDdisNoSULziHQ5_F4RrVveGBiZg2X2Or9ub26VGtJpwVQ9siOl7Vddrv9YCE/s320/IMG_0439.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">On our drive back up toward Ocala after riding Alafia, we stopped at a Florida wildlife park to try and see some manatees. Zach really wanted to, so we did some quick online research and found a place.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Turns out, the place was more of a zoo than a wildlife park, although maybe wildlife park means something different than I think. Either way, we got to see manatees (in the wild, mostly), along with a hippo, a cougar (the animal, not the old woman), a black bear, and plenty of other animals. I have mixed feelings about zoos, because on one hand, the animals don't seem super happy, which isn't great. That said, having exotic animals in zoos allows people to feel a connection to those animals, and it probably helps with conservation efforts around the word. Either way, we had a good time checking out the various critters.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7yeiuTowYxA2fvfcFvuh2qAXM5evoApTNv_kI6UqWYGSS3AHTtudlbJtY6HLHfhCGFOK3uOQFvr-AaNbuoeT32JkO8Ea9sTZHgTbFQEGt2zlc3dIxCL-jIox06twOwq3zoaX2cCp6SadSlnlk_z0Du3CEHoa1SL9MTo_ILBdORV0XNd_tYfgfQuKVw_4/s4032/IMG_0449.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7yeiuTowYxA2fvfcFvuh2qAXM5evoApTNv_kI6UqWYGSS3AHTtudlbJtY6HLHfhCGFOK3uOQFvr-AaNbuoeT32JkO8Ea9sTZHgTbFQEGt2zlc3dIxCL-jIox06twOwq3zoaX2cCp6SadSlnlk_z0Du3CEHoa1SL9MTo_ILBdORV0XNd_tYfgfQuKVw_4/s320/IMG_0449.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>The next ride we planned was at the Santos trails, just south of Ocala. This trail system is pretty well known, and I think it's even an IMBA gold trail system, which is impressive. After riding them, I'd say they definitely live up to the hype. We did over 56 miles the first day with only a<span> mile or two of repeat, and it was easily over 95% singletrack. That's pretty amazing for anywhere, let alone central Florida which I had mistakenly assumed was not a mountain bike mecca. </span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div>The night before, we found a perfect (horse) campground right by the trails, so we literally started the ride from the campground. Plus, it was New Year's Eve, so it kept my three-year streak of being in a tent for New Years alive. It also meant that I heard every single firework that whole night, until at least 12:15 AM. Oh well. The fireworks woke me up to check my fantasy football championship, which I lost by 2 points. Dang, there goes $500. Oh well. Oh, and what is a horse campground, you ask? I'm not really sure. All I know is that there were three or four horses tied up a couple sites away from us.</div><div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMX_iXLuiFwZsuAVVlFdb57dM0HUSwWjtIItyKEWg1IuS3bXbvt7rCM99FRnTgwd5C8Pi6huEnkkNpbRxQJdyamu9MVK1FMjz8bMoNLZdwDOxoll5FOphyphenhyphenwMSeM2x3AnOalstnbxz0DsiHx_6GFDlIFgwt_iYgn_5rcBBRixD0Pb2TA_wJ1CXiRIH9SMQ/s4032/IMG_0562.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMX_iXLuiFwZsuAVVlFdb57dM0HUSwWjtIItyKEWg1IuS3bXbvt7rCM99FRnTgwd5C8Pi6huEnkkNpbRxQJdyamu9MVK1FMjz8bMoNLZdwDOxoll5FOphyphenhyphenwMSeM2x3AnOalstnbxz0DsiHx_6GFDlIFgwt_iYgn_5rcBBRixD0Pb2TA_wJ1CXiRIH9SMQ/s320/IMG_0562.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu48f9CMlak-_8HjrW1tYxEY05UQe2qW_QjNHJhSG28TCwgqhhY-BB3qxWJPUyecDCmLcVpp7zUY9JTMIvbcpYNQcXtfPEAtCwtlGUMfHGGO2RQsi1QGYUQg4nMOGkoMLnV2p3OxPBh6Kk2NmADNDix92meovXhU5RfOJyH2r9dqKtqFvhjB7_8FDRD2g/s4032/IMG_0565.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu48f9CMlak-_8HjrW1tYxEY05UQe2qW_QjNHJhSG28TCwgqhhY-BB3qxWJPUyecDCmLcVpp7zUY9JTMIvbcpYNQcXtfPEAtCwtlGUMfHGGO2RQsi1QGYUQg4nMOGkoMLnV2p3OxPBh6Kk2NmADNDix92meovXhU5RfOJyH2r9dqKtqFvhjB7_8FDRD2g/s320/IMG_0565.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The trails themselves were much more XC-style than Ocala. From the campground to the Santos trails (I thought of it all as Santos, but formally...) was an extremely fast, fun, and flowy trail that weaved around palm trees and Spanish moss. Once we got to the formal Santos trails, we found some more technical and rocky trails. One trail in particular, Vortex, is actually pretty rocky. I'd consider it a easy-moderate level trail compared to Appalachian trails, but for Florida, it was way rockier than I expected and it was rated a black diamond on Trailforks.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5dcG7SRW0hbAN3hWqt-vMAyDgxItfu9G4tsG-S9-cLYMFibu5l9r0pTBCtusjj7hXsFfrgA673lk3jq3_0GxZuKnEBLD8kzID1yWu1MX9FXHsVWYmEnUc4z65wcXl3i7veOTe6Ty57KgswMh97p0u7DvAQzLUpQ_MfVCOw_IG_aVUnj8mPHOryvd4PtA/s4032/IMG_0577.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5dcG7SRW0hbAN3hWqt-vMAyDgxItfu9G4tsG-S9-cLYMFibu5l9r0pTBCtusjj7hXsFfrgA673lk3jq3_0GxZuKnEBLD8kzID1yWu1MX9FXHsVWYmEnUc4z65wcXl3i7veOTe6Ty57KgswMh97p0u7DvAQzLUpQ_MfVCOw_IG_aVUnj8mPHOryvd4PtA/s320/IMG_0577.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The next morning, we got up early to do one final ride in Santos before driving back up north. Once again, the Florida trails did not disappoint and we were able to find all the rockiest trails for a fun cruise.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After the ride, we set the navigation north and were on our way. It was an uneventful day of driving, which is good, and we stopped at a barbecue place in North Carolina for some dinner. Once again, the portion size was huge, and I wasn't even able to finish all my fries. That's saying something.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We found a hotel in Mt. Airy, NC, and got there right around 9 PM. The name "Mt. Airy" sounded familiar to me, and when I checked in and the clerk said the WiFi password was "Mayberry", I knew why. Andy Griffith was born in Mt. Airy, and it's considered to be the model town for Mayberry, the fictitious town in the 1960s comedy show "The Andy Griffith Show". I love Andy Griffith, and that show is one of my favorite shows of all time, so it was cool little story to stay in his birthplace.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">At the hotel breakfast the next morning, a hotel worker asked us if we were on our "winter break". Immediately, an old Russian lady sitting near us having breakfast chimed in, "it's Christmas break, Christmas!" </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I just smiled and said, "yeah, we're on Christmas break".</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After breakfast, we started the drive to Front Royal, VA, where we planned the last ride of the trip on the Massanutten mountain. The drive was very scenic, mostly on I-81, and we passed through Roanoke and Harrisonburg on our way.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFaYUS_Xh1kTL57z5XR0hpUGBlZiq_OzYFS-jXAxjURgkEjg9xPVTFrklYijsLSaiEaRmmq0JwUucBxivAE0UUtDIzy1GqxoPKU_8w6wp83sxOPJDL-qPSvKEOGnkD8frlL7n8OmTDLHUxjYDqjZPI4EW4z2yFPVxwwzX4otYmzm7j6PQ4NikpZyUQjZc/s4032/IMG_0585.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFaYUS_Xh1kTL57z5XR0hpUGBlZiq_OzYFS-jXAxjURgkEjg9xPVTFrklYijsLSaiEaRmmq0JwUucBxivAE0UUtDIzy1GqxoPKU_8w6wp83sxOPJDL-qPSvKEOGnkD8frlL7n8OmTDLHUxjYDqjZPI4EW4z2yFPVxwwzX4otYmzm7j6PQ4NikpZyUQjZc/s320/IMG_0585.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHqCCUsAWRlu_qwIRXBAdjO1T5aJ3w9zKDLaRU6hymB4hQTR1A2_UhBteRHJZkg0ACdh8fpVx7rMEqPEp9Q2JTGIyZY6fHl9KNVFwQ3jppKjaB7-byPq5HbRXxvT4KlAX3KmpAEbBGhoxVLB_LhX_64j71Z7O0U4oNnJKg6jMpkp6gi89je2Dn6Lk7eC4/s4032/IMG_0624.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHqCCUsAWRlu_qwIRXBAdjO1T5aJ3w9zKDLaRU6hymB4hQTR1A2_UhBteRHJZkg0ACdh8fpVx7rMEqPEp9Q2JTGIyZY6fHl9KNVFwQ3jppKjaB7-byPq5HbRXxvT4KlAX3KmpAEbBGhoxVLB_LhX_64j71Z7O0U4oNnJKg6jMpkp6gi89je2Dn6Lk7eC4/s320/IMG_0624.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We parked in the national forest just outside of Front Royal, and by coincidence, it was the same parking lot Will and I parked at a<span> couple years ago for a bikepacking trip.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span>From the parking lot, the route went up. And up. And up. It was a hard climb. Very hard. With lots of rocks, lots of hiking, and lots of views. Despite being only 21 miles, we knew the route would be hard. Ian had warned me as much.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span>It was Signal Peak climb, and after over an hour of climbing (with a bunch of walking our bikes), we finally reached the top. After such a grueling climb, I was unsure if any descent would be worth it. But, within a minute of starting downhill, it was already more than worth it. The trail was fantastic, there's really no other way to put it. Rocky, scenic, and everything that I love about Appalachian riding. It was a long descent, too, but what goes down must go up, and we eventually got to the bottom of the second climb.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span>The second climb was Sherman Gap, which goes from Fort Valley Road all the way up to the ridgetop, where it meets with the Massanutten Ring. Sherman Gap started off rideable, but eventually it got too steep to ride. It ended up being about a 800 foot hike-a-bike, which is just as brutal as it sounds. I went into suffering mode and made a big push (literally pushing my bike) to the top.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span>Once at the top, the pristine ridge top riding once again made me forget about the climb. In fact, of any trail I've ridden anywhere, it would be hard to find a trail that's more fun than this one. The Massanutten Trail is a gem, with natural rock features </span>everywhere, exposure, views, and, well, everything I could want.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwNYnmlLUB8-smtsWzc4h5F08dXenQA7aHfbXRsR_z3qJUjuCl8UbmO16Pgloqu53p7TjjPT6SfYB1BcsQIxWV8CtlQAo9ryL1nvZM3wuF4tSKwzdDJQTqQ05zaRyJE1rQwqsYpZSvDYpnPckCA2JlOE4K0jf1WTZVR8Q_7zD22vXcCxf4CriHq_mtpS4/s4032/IMG_0645%203.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwNYnmlLUB8-smtsWzc4h5F08dXenQA7aHfbXRsR_z3qJUjuCl8UbmO16Pgloqu53p7TjjPT6SfYB1BcsQIxWV8CtlQAo9ryL1nvZM3wuF4tSKwzdDJQTqQ05zaRyJE1rQwqsYpZSvDYpnPckCA2JlOE4K0jf1WTZVR8Q_7zD22vXcCxf4CriHq_mtpS4/s320/IMG_0645%203.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQQ8z4v_LzJCUE5NTJ7xRqsk6gAqn4LdXXnm8vu2QnLyijhg0R4blkLDsrRSmBOh-2-AT_CcQpb0gmMwYCax4_N3ieKEeXcpMEgmTrGSouFIlsAhY2Ir2RJhtOvMJrnG-nAYidrWt4ipKsPUdHM_OBk__d5kBsCLZm66ASyShJZUReD_CrfBFzq8blsDs/s4032/IMG_0654.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQQ8z4v_LzJCUE5NTJ7xRqsk6gAqn4LdXXnm8vu2QnLyijhg0R4blkLDsrRSmBOh-2-AT_CcQpb0gmMwYCax4_N3ieKEeXcpMEgmTrGSouFIlsAhY2Ir2RJhtOvMJrnG-nAYidrWt4ipKsPUdHM_OBk__d5kBsCLZm66ASyShJZUReD_CrfBFzq8blsDs/s320/IMG_0654.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We took the Massanutten Trail for a couple miles until we reached Buzzard Rock trail, a primarily-hiking trail that traverses a narrow rocky ridgetop. The trail started off mostly rideable, and despite having some pretty intense rock sections, I was able to clean most everything. That changed, however, once we got to the actual "Buzzard Rocks" viewing area. The trail became impossible to ride, and it turns into an awkward scramble through rocks with our bikes. The views, though... wow. It was all worth it and more. If we weren't running low on daylight, I would've loved to sit there for even longer to take it all in.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After the crazy section of rocks, the trail got more rideable, and we took it back down to pavement, which we followed back to our car. Wow. I've never ridden a harder 21 miles in my life, and I've also never ridden more technical trails than that. I can't wait to go back again.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWsEEnnZI6e7VARxBKduWkC6GewC8DGbI_pAo238Bzq0O94fkTrarktPEC9Li9f9RBOEl1g5c0upUdoRNgqyNs39sfHaWAVBdpuoPK6iPl-Dk0zMM4fIcbv2UGgNFf0c1zKE6Plm1-8JyeWA3_GczcwXuwgZucasvlQkPv6PqxwbhAeNYZLGCyHAZeOuc/s4032/IMG_0659.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWsEEnnZI6e7VARxBKduWkC6GewC8DGbI_pAo238Bzq0O94fkTrarktPEC9Li9f9RBOEl1g5c0upUdoRNgqyNs39sfHaWAVBdpuoPK6iPl-Dk0zMM4fIcbv2UGgNFf0c1zKE6Plm1-8JyeWA3_GczcwXuwgZucasvlQkPv6PqxwbhAeNYZLGCyHAZeOuc/s320/IMG_0659.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><p>From the parking, it was under four hours to get home, so after a quick Chipotle dinner, we drove the rest of the way back to Sewickley, another eventful and largely traffic-free drive. I love that drive on 522 north of Winchester, so the only bummer was that it was dark and I couldn't see anything. Oh well.</p><p>We got home a little after 10 PM, after 8 days on the road. It was a great trip. Plenty of sun, warmth, and new trails. Florida is a pretty nice place for a winter trip, and since there's so much green, it still feels a bit like summer. For now, it's back to the cold and grey of Pennsylvania, and student teaching.</p>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-61337001591057615062023-12-18T09:32:00.005-05:002024-01-09T09:45:12.328-05:00A Million Feet<p>I suppose I've always liked numbers. How many fly balls can I catch in my front yard? I kept count well into the thousands. I even kept a log of all the field goals I kicked, through an almost-full-sized goal post I built with my uncle out of PVC pipe when I was six or seven years old. What I'm trying to say is, I like numbers, and nice round ones at that.</p><p>The idea of riding a million feet in a year honestly wasn't something I really thought about at first. In fact, the first time I did ride a million feet in a year - back in 2020 - I didn't really think much of it beyond the fact that it was a neat milestone. But of course, those were my roadie days, when "Els" came quickly thanks to skinny tires, gears, and smooth pavement. Now that I primarily ride a singlespeed mountain bike (well, less so now with muddy trails, but still...) and do more racing, the million feet isn't quite as easy for me. This year, it took me until early December, the 6th, to be exact, to get the 1,000,000 feet. My brother got it a few weeks before me.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNbu8z4kPW3cghohhPEYb8Zoa8ZGOgv2KtdYn0Q1gT_B4sZf1DqG1XODxHy9m8FrcrbtpLhm_g9Ol_6nrCw__IF3LMSD3vJrtCM6MaF6s_GZh7T4EpVoSeCJdlykr2msGYXsBnDopNSmA9vgZW4Vm8cOF-3P2BwGWS1ESQ6fh8W1HgP8rtkyCUDJl_JDo/s4032/IMG_4628.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNbu8z4kPW3cghohhPEYb8Zoa8ZGOgv2KtdYn0Q1gT_B4sZf1DqG1XODxHy9m8FrcrbtpLhm_g9Ol_6nrCw__IF3LMSD3vJrtCM6MaF6s_GZh7T4EpVoSeCJdlykr2msGYXsBnDopNSmA9vgZW4Vm8cOF-3P2BwGWS1ESQ6fh8W1HgP8rtkyCUDJl_JDo/s320/IMG_4628.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Brevard, NC wolf approves of the million feet.</td></tr></tbody></table><span></span><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p><p>Part of the reason it took longer was more trail miles. Rothrock, in particular, isn't great for "Els" (short for elevation). My standard two-hour Rothrock route, Lonberger-Tussey-Leniency-Wert-Lonberger, only got me around 1,900 feet of climbing. On a gravel bike on roads, I can easily get 3,000 feet in two hours. Add in the various races I did with rest weeks and whatnot, and the million becomes a harder feat.</p><p>The other factor, and one I didn't really appreciate until now, is the responsibility of growing up. Back in 2020, thanks to COVID, I had practically zero responsibilities. Even though I still put the physical effort in to ride, the mental effort of riding 20 hours a weak is substantially less when your only priority is to ride 20 hours per week. Now that I'm in a one-year teaching program, I'm quite a bit busier. More so than I've ever been in college. That's not inherently a bad thing, after all, I'm looking forward to being a teacher, but it does mean that there's more on my plate. Going out to ride for two or more hours every day after being in class, writing papers, and doing observations at a high school is a lot more mentally taxing, at least for me.</p><p>Now, I know what you're saying. Or at least what you're thinking. <i>Even a teaching program in college still isn't the real world.</i> And you're right. In the spring when I'm student teaching - essentially equivalent workload to a teacher - and then next fall when I hopefully get an actual job, I'll have even more responsibility than I have now. </p><p>Part of me, though, will be happy to no longer be a student. No longer having to write papers. No longer having to do homework. Sure, I'll now have to be grading homework and grading tests, but at least I'm the one in charge. I don't know, though, I guess I'll just have to wait and see. Maybe I'm a bit idealistic.</p><p>Wow, I guess that was a bit of a tangent, wasn't it?</p><p>As I was saying, the million feet is a fun milestone. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.johnnyhamburgers.com/p/million-foot-hall-of-fame.html">Click here for Million Foot Hall of Fame</a></span></p><p>The first foot of climbing I got this year was with Zach down in Texas, on trails in Big Bend Bend State Park. The 1,000,000th foot I got was on Hunt Road, a gravel road only a couple miles from my house. In between, I got Els in, oh I don't know, maybe 10 different states? The only constant was a singlespeed. Of course, my gear ratio varied. I think the easiest gear I ran was 32x22, out in Colorado when I was climbing some steep high-altitude trails. The hardest gear I ran was 38x17, which I actually rode quite a bit for pavement around home.</p><p>I guess this post is going to end up being pretty short, and really, it's more of a companion-post for the Million Foot Hall of Fame I made on my website. You can find the link at the top of my website on the navigation bar. </p><p>The one question that always gets asked to anyone who gets the million is <i>are you going to try for the million next year?</i></p><p>For me, the answer right now is <i>I don't know</i>. It'll depend on a lot of things, like where I'm living, how much singletrack I ride versus gravel roads, and how my riding schedule adapts to (hopefully) getting a full-time job as a teacher. So we'll see. I had a lot of fun in 2023.</p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VDjuv53dsDLvLwB-GbtiEBGe-oAJDMlKRgJcDKgt0RtmxEwJA80IdR0q1YisWoFIGU1pvohyphenhyphenCUJlm23O6t5X15RHdZSy1fwBZy0_ky-DY1J30fujBr_cYOZr-VPzaIrLi1GsN9YY0G8O5MbTk0zsH9z-vhUtTSKIb5gbDBBJyRQMrX1L4Nrwgqczcnc/s4032/IMG_6298%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VDjuv53dsDLvLwB-GbtiEBGe-oAJDMlKRgJcDKgt0RtmxEwJA80IdR0q1YisWoFIGU1pvohyphenhyphenCUJlm23O6t5X15RHdZSy1fwBZy0_ky-DY1J30fujBr_cYOZr-VPzaIrLi1GsN9YY0G8O5MbTk0zsH9z-vhUtTSKIb5gbDBBJyRQMrX1L4Nrwgqczcnc/s320/IMG_6298%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What's a million foot post without Dahn Pahrs walking his bike?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-33617600607700692212023-12-11T11:44:00.004-05:002023-12-11T11:44:59.366-05:00Big Wheel Keep On Turnin'<div>I'll be honest, November and early December are usually some of the hardest months of riding for me. By the time the eleventh month comes around, I've been doing races, big rides, and traveling for the better part of the year. I guess what I'm trying to say is, once Thanksgiving is around the corner, I'm <i>tired</i>. Physically, somewhat. But mainly, I just need a way to reset and start focusing on the next year. Out with the old, in with the new. Maybe that's too crude, because it's not <i>that </i>dramatic, but I nonetheless like to shift my focus on to the next year.</div><div><br /></div><div>That being said, it's not that it's is bad. There are days when going out to ride for two hours to get 3,000 feet of climbing isn't very exciting. But still, I keep doing it. Surely that says something. All it takes is a little reminiscing of riding the Great Divide, of getting the belt buckle at Marji Gesick, or of endless singletrack miles with Dahn Pahrs in Park City to fully convince myself that every ride is worth it.</div><div><br /></div><div>All that is to say that there's still nothing I'd rather do than ride my bike and grind out miles in the cold and rain. When I'm finishing up an all-day ride in some new-to-me place, I look back fondly to the rides I did to get there. </div><div><br /></div><div>I guess what I'm trying to say, it's a bit like a rainy day in paradise. It's not your favorite, but it's still paradise. I won't lie, I may or may not have stolen that from Magnum P.I. (my favorite show), but still, it's extremely applicable here.</div><div><br /></div><div>Alright, now back to regularly scheduled programming.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZXSL6xp0vrxchTkEzBpRd1H6Vyp5USH5EyGgr-ltDrRRVJPyuvEaQaxXO_0PDxQq1brMiLnByz_0-TSshtT4xwFj033V6UASV7LZh-Oc5fBSYSn-G4kgqY1BW40N4SsNtEMSiXAMjxOnzx9b6U8IukEZmmHkIUKYVtywuqC3-G0zpyiKwN45hc8yOf0/s1990/IMG_9852%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1990" data-original-width="1170" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZXSL6xp0vrxchTkEzBpRd1H6Vyp5USH5EyGgr-ltDrRRVJPyuvEaQaxXO_0PDxQq1brMiLnByz_0-TSshtT4xwFj033V6UASV7LZh-Oc5fBSYSn-G4kgqY1BW40N4SsNtEMSiXAMjxOnzx9b6U8IukEZmmHkIUKYVtywuqC3-G0zpyiKwN45hc8yOf0/s320/IMG_9852%202.jpg" width="188" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoQ0ziaLCi3GLlMVGYxdcrsoBEupJHGqdUe9JSEeSkMmhub2VSepimzMw0S3DFsuLYlcXE60-WnUVTaP157z08Ft6Ih3qO74haf3GxhkIE9_z_HvfVsVA0xG_tm1bN4hFexlFEDSlHS2NXeJa-VRBmzsltND0VG1LzfmwrikUJr51z5cTwkxU6ChXS5LQ/s4032/IMG_9801.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoQ0ziaLCi3GLlMVGYxdcrsoBEupJHGqdUe9JSEeSkMmhub2VSepimzMw0S3DFsuLYlcXE60-WnUVTaP157z08Ft6Ih3qO74haf3GxhkIE9_z_HvfVsVA0xG_tm1bN4hFexlFEDSlHS2NXeJa-VRBmzsltND0VG1LzfmwrikUJr51z5cTwkxU6ChXS5LQ/s320/IMG_9801.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One of the better rides I've done in the last few weeks was a 100-mile gravel ride from Moraine State Park with a bunch of friends. The full crew consisted of me, my brother, Simon, Stick, and Thad... going out on a new route I had just designed.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div><br /></div>The roads up north of Moraine are fantastic: low traffic, great country views, and a rolling terrain that makes for an odd combination of mellow and difficult. What I mean is, there's still 100 feet per mile, but it doesn't <i>seem </i>like it. It's pretty great for a nice group ride.<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYAMggWhUcw6ACuOuddCLomUT9OeuFljWulugS5jJbii7w7wQhMllRiekL46cXGInUogsHyXU0W1rr-bg8zUNkYYKTQtnxUulZC0uj1oOfHKRJmsqW157PjnJExi6mrFNS8Qzl0XZjZUJNuRPIoNIdVwgJz8XIqXMTRONPN2cbdzojh57cLUlNn2jMKlY/s1528/IMG_9847%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1528" data-original-width="1170" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYAMggWhUcw6ACuOuddCLomUT9OeuFljWulugS5jJbii7w7wQhMllRiekL46cXGInUogsHyXU0W1rr-bg8zUNkYYKTQtnxUulZC0uj1oOfHKRJmsqW157PjnJExi6mrFNS8Qzl0XZjZUJNuRPIoNIdVwgJz8XIqXMTRONPN2cbdzojh57cLUlNn2jMKlY/s320/IMG_9847%202.jpg" width="245" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4LfmQLst2SlqeUGcS3TKO5AofOgLHnzO107tLs-QbPeJ9XUAj7r5s0MsCF4OyKHD6VoZF5_zTOcQZjW1Jjsp1xMl1J7LCfIfPdDYzpzhlG2bgKmrpBbThD3MMqzQHmVTJP0ENo3JIjPhA_beWjWNdM5tryR78gfb4lhS7wW0rR3fxUfbv5kZTMphaP-4/s4032/IMG_9807.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4LfmQLst2SlqeUGcS3TKO5AofOgLHnzO107tLs-QbPeJ9XUAj7r5s0MsCF4OyKHD6VoZF5_zTOcQZjW1Jjsp1xMl1J7LCfIfPdDYzpzhlG2bgKmrpBbThD3MMqzQHmVTJP0ENo3JIjPhA_beWjWNdM5tryR78gfb4lhS7wW0rR3fxUfbv5kZTMphaP-4/s320/IMG_9807.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Of course, no western Pennsylvania ride would be complete without a Sheetz stop. We stopped in Harrisville, a town I've never been to, and re-fueled at the Sheetz. I devoured an entire personal pizza along with a soda.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFDOZAsRcL8Tda61O_Zd9CQP4TBfD1qab1LSkLCxfiqWCk5A2BrSLZROAMKa0NlSYq1eW-TNuehf6Fp57FlqfVTeAlLkfve8pGpkOhNhwchqKDratH5KG6o6qa6T4U37-Y4G9AQC5A5WPWj-Zi9ywJLDVl84WrAyJylt4NZIy47NoTdJqVF3_DKa9j6E/s4032/IMG_9829.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFDOZAsRcL8Tda61O_Zd9CQP4TBfD1qab1LSkLCxfiqWCk5A2BrSLZROAMKa0NlSYq1eW-TNuehf6Fp57FlqfVTeAlLkfve8pGpkOhNhwchqKDratH5KG6o6qa6T4U37-Y4G9AQC5A5WPWj-Zi9ywJLDVl84WrAyJylt4NZIy47NoTdJqVF3_DKa9j6E/s320/IMG_9829.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This picture certainly isn't very good, but it's the only pic I got from a 4-hour North Park MTB ride with Zach, Thad, and Litz. Despite a 100-miler the day before, I actually felt really good on the trails and we had a great time.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ufDYh5uDTxy0sg8TVHjzwTKe_WtfRCEvBOBg2wzBvOChlGNKBDPfcebfmFhdUchbQ11RXQQ675L2ShjTfRTC0e-6grGtB04iwFKxBJ4SfvyGt9f-VFtWqe4jclVHHXiptr2AatInWNJ3R03tm8g2DWFfTWDLPtMRFVCNrLt7grzs3C4slvYEoRJG4k0/s4032/IMG_9858%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ufDYh5uDTxy0sg8TVHjzwTKe_WtfRCEvBOBg2wzBvOChlGNKBDPfcebfmFhdUchbQ11RXQQ675L2ShjTfRTC0e-6grGtB04iwFKxBJ4SfvyGt9f-VFtWqe4jclVHHXiptr2AatInWNJ3R03tm8g2DWFfTWDLPtMRFVCNrLt7grzs3C4slvYEoRJG4k0/s320/IMG_9858%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For those who've known me for a long time (that is, well before I started biking) know that I'm somewhat of an eccentric person. I like to collect odd things and I tend to do things that might be seen as strange. Like buying an antique farm tractor. Or building not one, but two, trebuchets. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And so, when I saw this antique Underwood Number 5 typewriter for sale on Facebook, I quickly replied to the listing and went to Elwood City to pick it up. For $40, I consider it a steal. Based on the serial number, it was made in 1914, which I think is pretty cool. Like I said, it's a strange thing to buy. But I guess I'm strange.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3A4usFOMf_Rad-91Qy-c1MNVWbqcCFrYJxT541bQvWKUqUFJDtl662d8S4XJxW1LYHc-4xtm2RxTTmgkEJqjVvFkoJuDD7Fk90yirZodS_LoDUk9W452r7SL6b_ntissgfKyzDYZ6bH7Zeq-rUg4fM6-R5J2xcQSPCopMH2VI9cQtoVr5GdpmxKVOask/s4032/IMG_9885%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3A4usFOMf_Rad-91Qy-c1MNVWbqcCFrYJxT541bQvWKUqUFJDtl662d8S4XJxW1LYHc-4xtm2RxTTmgkEJqjVvFkoJuDD7Fk90yirZodS_LoDUk9W452r7SL6b_ntissgfKyzDYZ6bH7Zeq-rUg4fM6-R5J2xcQSPCopMH2VI9cQtoVr5GdpmxKVOask/s320/IMG_9885%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbC6qx85wSG758e61nvsw_mLhFPQtTJRSCwwUHZT8DYMwbqR_IjVNppihBuZfLZy8GWFF6ZCVuXen0AhmlPYYEHiLSfQlDIr-vqAAtSdPY3SYv6rW7OxDs8YsghovYQP8ihS3ATPmkFejUZvIDEyhTL-L1fpnOBWCbkbHaR8jd7O3_QZ2G4HX2d__SXFk/s4032/IMG_9894.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbC6qx85wSG758e61nvsw_mLhFPQtTJRSCwwUHZT8DYMwbqR_IjVNppihBuZfLZy8GWFF6ZCVuXen0AhmlPYYEHiLSfQlDIr-vqAAtSdPY3SYv6rW7OxDs8YsghovYQP8ihS3ATPmkFejUZvIDEyhTL-L1fpnOBWCbkbHaR8jd7O3_QZ2G4HX2d__SXFk/s320/IMG_9894.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>The following weekend, I went out for a gravel ride with some friends into West Virginia. It was great to catch up with some people I haven't seen in a while, and getting to ride some new roads is always a treat. Plus, seeing this old abandoned store or adult entertainment building or whatever it is (above to the right) was quite interesting.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif_7MrNJQ83N8oWe46g2IifadVY3C049uAr_qbES9paZnOVMkEr98wIoyYzdihVbKYLIkDF0YhZ6LKRuaNG-VxlhS66DjrtHqDSFKRHpZu_SHGx4YmdzxTbhSSz2VLQ9X95dszHNKALXJTR3nU1FeYD_HBjs9_1INyjeKeKxUMIfZ_IUtRHLzSosCBBls/s4032/IMG_9938.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif_7MrNJQ83N8oWe46g2IifadVY3C049uAr_qbES9paZnOVMkEr98wIoyYzdihVbKYLIkDF0YhZ6LKRuaNG-VxlhS66DjrtHqDSFKRHpZu_SHGx4YmdzxTbhSSz2VLQ9X95dszHNKALXJTR3nU1FeYD_HBjs9_1INyjeKeKxUMIfZ_IUtRHLzSosCBBls/s320/IMG_9938.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Even though I'm a singlespeeder, I must admit, I rarely drink. Maybe once every month or two, at most, much to Dahn Pahrs' disdain. So, when I went to a Mexican restaurant up in Bradford, PA with Will a couple weeks ago, I had to memorialize the occasion with a photo. Let the record show I finished three of those grande margs. Dahn was proud of me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8wKhWBVMwO-oOZFC27vjBHdNG05SzrOZG8ADiuEAku48ubp8IwS_83X_55zqxcKYcIjVMAdkPvRTYQkPMjKBQVVV1Bnxr6CxgqQ2DXus33Qgmu-mBKnkToL5tcjC-JEFeBfp7aMJdohCkcLo1mVX0uaQtfENd8b7QKTCtjKOmiYFLFPBiy_hMTvwyo9Y/s4032/IMG_9957%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8wKhWBVMwO-oOZFC27vjBHdNG05SzrOZG8ADiuEAku48ubp8IwS_83X_55zqxcKYcIjVMAdkPvRTYQkPMjKBQVVV1Bnxr6CxgqQ2DXus33Qgmu-mBKnkToL5tcjC-JEFeBfp7aMJdohCkcLo1mVX0uaQtfENd8b7QKTCtjKOmiYFLFPBiy_hMTvwyo9Y/s320/IMG_9957%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtWIyKaoRv_G-Ivi2GGCDu7yN2GsNazkGY4CAjKI6jo20kdPOCI_JVkWigFVFOn8FH65U-qOrU16JVXHcTmZg1tRaU6uCdw6Ayx9y7nEx-9180UelccapghyphenhyphennI2FJCxor3A9u7v9lypWXI5zzHRaNphr_lrgU6LjGYGr_juiPPmOHr236Dy3qxv9XapxU/s4032/IMG_9958.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtWIyKaoRv_G-Ivi2GGCDu7yN2GsNazkGY4CAjKI6jo20kdPOCI_JVkWigFVFOn8FH65U-qOrU16JVXHcTmZg1tRaU6uCdw6Ayx9y7nEx-9180UelccapghyphenhyphennI2FJCxor3A9u7v9lypWXI5zzHRaNphr_lrgU6LjGYGr_juiPPmOHr236Dy3qxv9XapxU/s320/IMG_9958.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>After getting back to Pittsburgh, I went out for a local gravel ride with Simon and Davey. If you know those two, you know the ride was basically a non-stop comedy act. Just remember to always look Simon in the eyes when you eat a banana.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQBUgkilp-T1Ol02iMtCnp4mVWG7AQwhi_PvHsqnfjBjc0204xdKRxSCuDQfsQyYfOaKjWfhMFpZjactBNGWHWLRcQI88Dnxwdz6a6qHkVnuQOGHOa56eqYnhT-lJKqkN-AW85ZMbN2Ynx1tRV5GVh_CsZZ9_IS0NibydTlR1ypGHE7m8cl5qVFNZ6BcI/s4032/IMG_9988%204.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQBUgkilp-T1Ol02iMtCnp4mVWG7AQwhi_PvHsqnfjBjc0204xdKRxSCuDQfsQyYfOaKjWfhMFpZjactBNGWHWLRcQI88Dnxwdz6a6qHkVnuQOGHOa56eqYnhT-lJKqkN-AW85ZMbN2Ynx1tRV5GVh_CsZZ9_IS0NibydTlR1ypGHE7m8cl5qVFNZ6BcI/s320/IMG_9988%204.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaRJVKVISYRrSbRx20MGuREzp-1Cfb3O0rZaIuSfSbs5_8BP_3cHBy2ROvR6AWd8BIvptgpu-GbVB7IqeJQfNc_gCAC5ikYxDl-VauBz07xZv8y9eIYea4MG-TJ7mmX7djPWXf3g8N5BqUCmRipv9T_RjmALMksmocp06xGYbTlE9gjNNyPVvD_5XwbFs/s2169/IMG_9991.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2169" data-original-width="1170" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaRJVKVISYRrSbRx20MGuREzp-1Cfb3O0rZaIuSfSbs5_8BP_3cHBy2ROvR6AWd8BIvptgpu-GbVB7IqeJQfNc_gCAC5ikYxDl-VauBz07xZv8y9eIYea4MG-TJ7mmX7djPWXf3g8N5BqUCmRipv9T_RjmALMksmocp06xGYbTlE9gjNNyPVvD_5XwbFs/s320/IMG_9991.jpg" width="173" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Alright, I'm almost back up to present-day now. Last week, Dave J. texted me that he was taking off work on Friday, and he asked if I wanted to join him for a gravel ride. Seeing as I only have one class on Friday, and seeing as how we weren't doing anything in that class, I decided that missing one day of class was worth spending a gorgeous December day outside on my bike.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The route, courtesy of Dave, did not disappoint. We got over 6.900 feet (nice) of climbing and splashed in more than a couple puddles.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOSsdOWbkQTiwVZrxfL2VHcOQp4ypAKHNZPTlwIbvNr3-0z-9UGiezGsC0L5rfALOINuu6ic7hWDMKtsaqNJLX89eAR_iK17DiOt9koafjTSeU-ZTLSAonAVKVyp_8e-DF4Mo1M0BJ18_jJh9kfC0QfiMj6x28yFaz5nreFi38YTVaOW3MDE2SxLWYdnE/s4032/IMG_0011.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOSsdOWbkQTiwVZrxfL2VHcOQp4ypAKHNZPTlwIbvNr3-0z-9UGiezGsC0L5rfALOINuu6ic7hWDMKtsaqNJLX89eAR_iK17DiOt9koafjTSeU-ZTLSAonAVKVyp_8e-DF4Mo1M0BJ18_jJh9kfC0QfiMj6x28yFaz5nreFi38YTVaOW3MDE2SxLWYdnE/s320/IMG_0011.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ZjSaw8Vy5h3yyex2s1BgbGhvuHcuRkiwcoG0yNbMuMHTt0mJ8uSriuseQGTihFy21wEjPJ1739HEsit34sjomuadrm4UgKA_JwvtbswxHinmnAlBG-ZsBak1AkbGSfu_CpEsQiBXRQ93vwfXy-sQzt8i3Al5n8DES0ExEXZ60_7GkatDw46nNQUl-24/s4032/IMG_0024.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ZjSaw8Vy5h3yyex2s1BgbGhvuHcuRkiwcoG0yNbMuMHTt0mJ8uSriuseQGTihFy21wEjPJ1739HEsit34sjomuadrm4UgKA_JwvtbswxHinmnAlBG-ZsBak1AkbGSfu_CpEsQiBXRQ93vwfXy-sQzt8i3Al5n8DES0ExEXZ60_7GkatDw46nNQUl-24/s320/IMG_0024.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /></div><div>The day after riding with Dave, I drove out to Belmont for a massive gravel ride courtesy of Thad. My brother, Rob, and Stick all came along for what turned out to be a fantastic day of suffering with friends. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thad's route was legit. Over 13,000 feet of climbing in 103 miles and more steep climbs than you can shake a stick at. Speaking of Stick, he gets the medal for overcoming the most adversity during the ride. When we stopped at a Dollar General for resupply, I went to spin his cranks backwards just for the heck of it, and found that they would barely turn. Apparently, his hub was messed up and the cassette locking was rubbing against the sliding dropout of the frame. In addition to making an awful noise, it also made it so just turning the cranks was quite difficult. I'm not exaggerating when I say it easily cost him 20 to 30 watts. Despite all that, he cleaned every climb and finished the route just as strong as he started.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thad's route, in combination with my ride the day before, gave me 20,000 feet of climbing in two days. My legs were like the meme I always see, from The Green Mile with Michael Clarke Duncan, "I'm tired boss".</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyways, I guess that catches us up to the present day. I'm sitting in my last class of the fall 2023 semester at Geneva College right now, which is in fact one of my last classes ever in college (probably). I'll be student teaching in the spring, and then the real world starts after that. Exciting times.</div>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-74151673674819638922023-11-11T07:32:00.004-05:002023-11-11T07:32:45.673-05:00Rothrock for the Weekend<p></p>I graduated from Penn State back in May, and one of the biggest changes is not having Rothrock in my backyard anymore. I took for granted having Tussey Ridge as part of an easy hour loop, or sharpening rock skills on John Wert multiple times per week. All that is to say, I'm going to take every chance I get to head up to State College and ride those northern Appalachian trails. <div><br /></div><div>Last weekend, Stick and I were planning to bring our tents and camp somewhere in Rothrock. I had some ideas of where to camp, but nothing that seemed to be perfect. I texted Brad to ask if he knew of any popular campsites near Galbraith Gap (a spot in Rothrock) that I might be forgetting, and quickly he texted me back that Erik offered to let us stay at his cabin. If that's not perfect, I don't know what is.</div><div><br /></div><div>The cabins in Rothrock are pretty neat. It's all state forest land, but the state offers land-leases where people can buy cabins on the leased land. Most of the cabins don't have septic systems, and instead have good 'ol fashioned outhouses. Luckily, Erik's cabin, which he co-owns with Bob, has a septic system, electricity, and even running water. Even so, it's still very rustic. The floors are raw, rough-cut lumber, and you can see the downstairs through gaps in the floorboards from upstairs. There's a wood furnace in the living room, firewood piled on the floor, and there isn't a TV within several miles of the place. In other words, it's exactly what I like. I've always thought it's strange to build a cabin and then turn it into some five-star penthouse. You're in the woods. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm a pretty eccentric person, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't start making plans to build my own cabin in the future. I really can't stress enough how much I enjoyed staying at Erik and Bob's cabin for the weekend. But I digress, back to last weekend.</div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC5ldVd8RDUoMg6xpzoxdBkGwHunFtKkwTE97F1eh9ZkumGN6zuri-FqAR-iy-AeR0OmDOsip1rA7m5r1rp5fnEuQW9ZgP22roddoIWjRYZ_shs46VklZ5oz3NQYte351OqQ-VqdOe0NUQQhJL_YnH5LcytnzEG-vkPCYC9h_RtUyXXu3GvhX_pke2pLg/s4032/IMG_9548.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC5ldVd8RDUoMg6xpzoxdBkGwHunFtKkwTE97F1eh9ZkumGN6zuri-FqAR-iy-AeR0OmDOsip1rA7m5r1rp5fnEuQW9ZgP22roddoIWjRYZ_shs46VklZ5oz3NQYte351OqQ-VqdOe0NUQQhJL_YnH5LcytnzEG-vkPCYC9h_RtUyXXu3GvhX_pke2pLg/s320/IMG_9548.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Awesome.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div><br /></div><div>Stick and I headed up to State College Friday evening, and we got to Rothrock a little after 8 o'clock that evening. We met up Brad at the Galbraith parking lot, and we followed him up Bear Meadows Road and onto Treaster Kettle Road to get to the cabin.</div><div><br /></div><div>Brad hung out with us for a little as we got settled into the cabin, and we made plans for riding the next day. I'd been talking to several friends in State College about riding the next day, and it was looking like a nice crew was going to be getting together.</div><div><br /></div><div>Also in the cabin was a guitar, albeit missing the low E string, but it provided some enjoyment. More on that later.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2heRjRy00cKCtfmdUoHpQwqeBevjB974WX3o9-EVChZZOASIr1DUHyXHLStBNRJRbAtkuiczdGfGmQouihTZNjRg-snp_6Oh0dC0bIrpbT8ynjG9GhtIdUzQCtaEG4OJDYPL8Xbbpp8mw7CkbO7ymAXBDR6Cp6NtI-A4J6AFzcBInDC3mqdwe46686Ig/s4032/IMG_9542.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2heRjRy00cKCtfmdUoHpQwqeBevjB974WX3o9-EVChZZOASIr1DUHyXHLStBNRJRbAtkuiczdGfGmQouihTZNjRg-snp_6Oh0dC0bIrpbT8ynjG9GhtIdUzQCtaEG4OJDYPL8Xbbpp8mw7CkbO7ymAXBDR6Cp6NtI-A4J6AFzcBInDC3mqdwe46686Ig/s320/IMG_9542.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkFUpTEJiGAc8tADvT2AJztGCnZhAtTSKsm_oSBjNYbN2LbAKTZ7QxhQfCxHV3B9f55n2e92NHJ5XimXHpfC36uQZtwk4Bu1W7JNNN9melNf-hd5qnCXEk-eyWIJiyzRENEraR9nQjbSiABHxEhEWQJlmaKIWcVXw_obJmM5t26C6msUEqDrarWEGUA7M/s4032/IMG_9543.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkFUpTEJiGAc8tADvT2AJztGCnZhAtTSKsm_oSBjNYbN2LbAKTZ7QxhQfCxHV3B9f55n2e92NHJ5XimXHpfC36uQZtwk4Bu1W7JNNN9melNf-hd5qnCXEk-eyWIJiyzRENEraR9nQjbSiABHxEhEWQJlmaKIWcVXw_obJmM5t26C6msUEqDrarWEGUA7M/s320/IMG_9543.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Stick and I got out for a ride a little before 10am on Saturday, and I plotted us to go ride some of my favorite trails. As it was a weekend of classic rock, I'd perhaps describe some of these trails as "deep cuts". I tried my best to show Stick some new-to-him trails, and I think I succeeded.</div><div><br /></div><div>After heading up John Wert, we climbed Gettis Ridge and attempted to ride on the forbidden trail. Perhaps I won't mention its name, but it's really rocky and offers a great view of Bear Meadows. See the picture below on the right.</div><div><br /></div><div>Alright, I need to add a little aside here. I always thought the name "Bear Meadows" is a bit funny. Maybe I'm not entirely correct in my understanding of the term "meadow", but I always think of a meadow as being dry and grassy. Bear Meadows, in fact, is a bog. Almost a swamp, even. Looking at it from above, you can get a pretty good sense of the geology/geography of it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Surrounding the meadows (or bog, as I'd say) is an almost complete ring of mountain ridges, forming a kind of pool. It's not hard to imagine how, over time, the meadows got filled in with eroding sediment and eventually formed completely flat terrain. The creek flowing through it, Sinking Creek, is actually the primary inflow for the man-made Colyer Lake, just a couple miles downstream. The creek, of course, is what provides the water to the meadows and turns it into a bog. Maybe this is more geology and hydrology than you'd like, but still, I think it's really fascinating to try and understand.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRUjPaNjJS3ZawxsruAwacGfWvvueCr58Dx8GMcg2O4mFHKnrsNfEqzIEh2MWQ3iCo5UCqXW8wZ5kaoegchEWOkcjdeCVLQFyVatQRkvxZ-uOGjH9dhcqFKVhwEIpYl9yp4jXL46-i8Viey_3xOChCgdK5V7xjkzgGBY8MlVOlHYfb6MNepsPi2PGCbeA/s4032/IMG_9553.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRUjPaNjJS3ZawxsruAwacGfWvvueCr58Dx8GMcg2O4mFHKnrsNfEqzIEh2MWQ3iCo5UCqXW8wZ5kaoegchEWOkcjdeCVLQFyVatQRkvxZ-uOGjH9dhcqFKVhwEIpYl9yp4jXL46-i8Viey_3xOChCgdK5V7xjkzgGBY8MlVOlHYfb6MNepsPi2PGCbeA/s320/IMG_9553.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3wGAO09PnSjxH48eV4gbGXYPJepJw_leb3hmgsvAXUHraVKlxCpxdOOpSZAqXSGZCVnl7KrOXhdNmuvirVkZjrJzO0RJZGzkQ_4HaqAh63khlfA9DeyT47J3n84J2bkI8ss23kqJFTRFrrhZHPdethD1_bhyphenhyphen20_1ND3fQ4C5CX4jbroPHcgOVmHzTzUM/s4032/IMG_9557.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3wGAO09PnSjxH48eV4gbGXYPJepJw_leb3hmgsvAXUHraVKlxCpxdOOpSZAqXSGZCVnl7KrOXhdNmuvirVkZjrJzO0RJZGzkQ_4HaqAh63khlfA9DeyT47J3n84J2bkI8ss23kqJFTRFrrhZHPdethD1_bhyphenhyphen20_1ND3fQ4C5CX4jbroPHcgOVmHzTzUM/s320/IMG_9557.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Back to the ride. For an undisclosed reason (i.e. not wanting to get caught), we abandoned the forbidden trail and instead rode to Wildcat Trail. It's well-known as one of the gnarliest downhills in Rothrock, and for good reason. It's a mixture of some technical rocks and insanely steep chutes, and it makes for an adrenaline pumping several minutes.</div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zXHNCbAXiZjDNFOqX_gnONBRCXY7X82-gtrlnJy3hLQRHgFrB8eINF7-yrNsAu5nnaIeI2SQDnjZosbeuWbmKVtEx-rW-l9jESeMj8ErT0Ddxe4RTLSf3ZUYdVPTh9MTgjFcYgqCSeGNJqUUk7Yfq6DHhze92igvNX3-K2oa7vPAjMuBU1EMrdnwuB8/s4032/IMG_9569%202.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zXHNCbAXiZjDNFOqX_gnONBRCXY7X82-gtrlnJy3hLQRHgFrB8eINF7-yrNsAu5nnaIeI2SQDnjZosbeuWbmKVtEx-rW-l9jESeMj8ErT0Ddxe4RTLSf3ZUYdVPTh9MTgjFcYgqCSeGNJqUUk7Yfq6DHhze92igvNX3-K2oa7vPAjMuBU1EMrdnwuB8/s320/IMG_9569%202.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bottom of Wildcat</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After Wildcat, we headed over to Sand Springs Trail. The trail actually has two downhills - going down each side of the ridge from the Mid State Trail - and we rode the side that goes down to Lower Trail. I think that's the harder side.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiryIIyq1wiIga6rTFNV8Jz1yOcv96Al4vi_77xkngMC6LEEF5r-WFTjTiu0jwMIpto_aRqRWH-xe5DcYXDg-uUw76gPl3v5hyphenhyphenJ5eTNZCUV_3vZOZ0b_M0l5mLeK2quGdrWMDJFbJ21518zLjXwALDUH_KWIr1xkmuyKmUDE9fRg3ocXViPswhc5pR3s_k/s4032/IMG_9573.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiryIIyq1wiIga6rTFNV8Jz1yOcv96Al4vi_77xkngMC6LEEF5r-WFTjTiu0jwMIpto_aRqRWH-xe5DcYXDg-uUw76gPl3v5hyphenhyphenJ5eTNZCUV_3vZOZ0b_M0l5mLeK2quGdrWMDJFbJ21518zLjXwALDUH_KWIr1xkmuyKmUDE9fRg3ocXViPswhc5pR3s_k/s320/IMG_9573.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiELjIB8qhXshkAwxpCP-Ayh6XpngbDxEjgxsytXYVCpoXf0GkXKsZMEJWq8Hit-iZ_rqfi-mdAgPutdiC3_huPPSVzA9Kx4C5H3VMAylcocovF_exZSAehql0KW0os4gn5MR96TJd-wOf9Bm_M4xVQR5hOXJrff9s4jnOzkmKgTarwRpPncyfcQtnvyr4/s4032/IMG_9574.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiELjIB8qhXshkAwxpCP-Ayh6XpngbDxEjgxsytXYVCpoXf0GkXKsZMEJWq8Hit-iZ_rqfi-mdAgPutdiC3_huPPSVzA9Kx4C5H3VMAylcocovF_exZSAehql0KW0os4gn5MR96TJd-wOf9Bm_M4xVQR5hOXJrff9s4jnOzkmKgTarwRpPncyfcQtnvyr4/s320/IMG_9574.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The next trail on the agenda was Spruce Gap. It's sort of the Holy Grail of Rothrock downhills, at least to me. I first rode it with Will in my month up at school, on my 100mm Epic with two-piston brakes. I vowed to never ride it again in such configuration, and now, on my hardtail with a 140mm fork and four-piston brakes, it's actually very enjoyable.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You may remember (but probably not) back in July that I took my brother and Simon down Spruce Gap. Simon crashed and bent his finger. This time, I was careful to warn Stick about the dangers of the trail. The trail itself is only moderately technical (relatively, very relatively), but its steepness and length is what makes it challenging. The bottom half of the descent is sustained grade over 30% steepness, and some loose rocks and small drops mean you have to totally commit to the descent. It's one of my favorites in Rothrock, and I think Stick enjoyed seeing the gnarly side of Rothrock as well.</div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQC-dTxtZ2Ay8P-f8ZZCM4nOYlTsKNiNK_TxtWfBNtyJLMvImSUkoyodcw8qjbAULPLb2KouJwnaIZShp-T7i2UiYbGcZ_tO_LLFbnlnhhvUNp83rI5zDQ7jEi4JcMLmOSKtSnJAqSjlQzgDPRXCAXFx8vtWY_gEXsjTI43TDg6pODoPRLHGHW0lxRYcA/s4032/IMG_9585.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQC-dTxtZ2Ay8P-f8ZZCM4nOYlTsKNiNK_TxtWfBNtyJLMvImSUkoyodcw8qjbAULPLb2KouJwnaIZShp-T7i2UiYbGcZ_tO_LLFbnlnhhvUNp83rI5zDQ7jEi4JcMLmOSKtSnJAqSjlQzgDPRXCAXFx8vtWY_gEXsjTI43TDg6pODoPRLHGHW0lxRYcA/s320/IMG_9585.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most of the crew at North Meadows/Bear Meadows</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After Spruce Gap, Stick and I met up with Brad, Tanya, and Anders in the Galbraith lot. It was my first time seeing Anders for a while (I'd seen Tanya a lot at NUE races this summer), and it was great to hang out again.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We climbed up Lonberger and headed out onto my favorite trail: Tussey Ridge. We stopped for some pictures, I ate a ham sandwich, and we chatted a bit before going on our way. Unfortunately, shortly after, Anders punctured his tire and it wouldn't seal. He had to put a tube in, so he turned around and rode back to the parking lot while we continued on.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzYoSqUm5IewadOj0tIWwqSc9CpYFKuE3YYFInR5Pm7G3_FDmP9bohkxuAkeDz590VQAaQgZybb0PZqT9sQb5b1b_TvzcKNbn-LnrrB51REPRNJIKmZCbsx472W_wR06nOUi82eA85kaohlW9y8JAkqkuPZzPvhoJlWS0LexEgjIts6O3ctX45CwXPhBE/s4032/IMG_4659.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzYoSqUm5IewadOj0tIWwqSc9CpYFKuE3YYFInR5Pm7G3_FDmP9bohkxuAkeDz590VQAaQgZybb0PZqT9sQb5b1b_TvzcKNbn-LnrrB51REPRNJIKmZCbsx472W_wR06nOUi82eA85kaohlW9y8JAkqkuPZzPvhoJlWS0LexEgjIts6O3ctX45CwXPhBE/s320/IMG_4659.JPG" width="180" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjglFrlXidNJbu9G7z6U4piMmiW4JRKA4HLYG97bahYzUCOaHQCDpO1Cuyy96Ys5C6pPNgV8XP2M_eOIYR5Yd3nj9tsKj4UHLVHuBfbGG_3u0cCh7_XXdmbwiZbdYUcwkqwks_9MKJA8vZYI5JV4YZni1DI2CZt6PJ7j8xYlVy3rqEH4pC0dhYn3_UQ3gU/s4032/IMG_4662.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjglFrlXidNJbu9G7z6U4piMmiW4JRKA4HLYG97bahYzUCOaHQCDpO1Cuyy96Ys5C6pPNgV8XP2M_eOIYR5Yd3nj9tsKj4UHLVHuBfbGG_3u0cCh7_XXdmbwiZbdYUcwkqwks_9MKJA8vZYI5JV4YZni1DI2CZt6PJ7j8xYlVy3rqEH4pC0dhYn3_UQ3gU/s320/IMG_4662.JPG" width="180" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I really do love this trail. The views are incredible, and the rock riding is just the right amount of technical for any ride. Plus, I think there's something really special about riding along a ridge.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVDsQ21dxschVXMd8prEnBWP4erIxWC7wslV-JJ68m17SBVsBSm1nTVyvdvnbqo57ZPXmGAZKCdbUOLsPzf4hg85o0roDa3tGi7xDBnU7pClS_tjbn6hAtSt1rDfw2Pw53N3Gu89OzRGgvMmSLKIIrS9uXGSQ9FLBQBgPLj-VrGmesmgVY3zabOJSII7A/s4032/IMG_4669.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVDsQ21dxschVXMd8prEnBWP4erIxWC7wslV-JJ68m17SBVsBSm1nTVyvdvnbqo57ZPXmGAZKCdbUOLsPzf4hg85o0roDa3tGi7xDBnU7pClS_tjbn6hAtSt1rDfw2Pw53N3Gu89OzRGgvMmSLKIIrS9uXGSQ9FLBQBgPLj-VrGmesmgVY3zabOJSII7A/s320/IMG_4669.JPG" width="180" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiYAAb8Kumk8I7CfuOT7rA3_lO8TI4fiJgw8T54NkQ3k76t5mWNwGimMtO31tzEsHkSJgE_JRbMaId_bUu5GmTDoxIebZf_0nvhXYX5oeD0O-TdBPCRqrVG60EejL8_DygkQYyVatkkJwkY6t9eRqHf2yiwgBDKjsn6Bxbicg4DBck7Fu7G8QIkr4AZfo/s4032/IMG_4674.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiYAAb8Kumk8I7CfuOT7rA3_lO8TI4fiJgw8T54NkQ3k76t5mWNwGimMtO31tzEsHkSJgE_JRbMaId_bUu5GmTDoxIebZf_0nvhXYX5oeD0O-TdBPCRqrVG60EejL8_DygkQYyVatkkJwkY6t9eRqHf2yiwgBDKjsn6Bxbicg4DBck7Fu7G8QIkr4AZfo/s320/IMG_4674.JPG" width="180" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In the distance, you can almost see Colyer Lake. Of course, there's also the iconic beer tap at the end of Tussey Ridge.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4pEHTLfx_-vE6q8t4nK4UNjZWQ9krpfo3qBElRX2Lfbp52KXAo7gYizcOr8wlroKRZuCH4Sm2Vkf6x1TCIf6co-Ob_BKnTja47GT0VuT-tIESgXKPnIIEN6LbeLjzTsefxefg597XB4IPA3371jsRqLKD4GDK6t6g3K_aHh2FeeRiHmjnxdemZxLJ9U/s4032/IMG_9599.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4pEHTLfx_-vE6q8t4nK4UNjZWQ9krpfo3qBElRX2Lfbp52KXAo7gYizcOr8wlroKRZuCH4Sm2Vkf6x1TCIf6co-Ob_BKnTja47GT0VuT-tIESgXKPnIIEN6LbeLjzTsefxefg597XB4IPA3371jsRqLKD4GDK6t6g3K_aHh2FeeRiHmjnxdemZxLJ9U/s320/IMG_9599.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbL7qrEYaOqIhQqujv4XWFalKwSJL2b7g3uwyPnxZjYiUmFcfIN9ytjwPUwCqlmiJyrExeu-u51ui4ocuHGGH3EihvajMmNp8CvYNL1UOk51UnvpftwkqzMAd4rhz8YMLNyttepcFSj2NtZGXc0hNPALx5qA95fk9zQD1SxLxOSrMlrmQflw9LEhl6uFo/s3088/IMG_9594.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbL7qrEYaOqIhQqujv4XWFalKwSJL2b7g3uwyPnxZjYiUmFcfIN9ytjwPUwCqlmiJyrExeu-u51ui4ocuHGGH3EihvajMmNp8CvYNL1UOk51UnvpftwkqzMAd4rhz8YMLNyttepcFSj2NtZGXc0hNPALx5qA95fk9zQD1SxLxOSrMlrmQflw9LEhl6uFo/s320/IMG_9594.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anders has been letting his hair grow out for a while, something I can certainly get behind. Unfortunately, my long hair days may be temporarily put on hold while I get a teaching job, but I'll see. Maybe long-haired-hippy-people may now apply.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoJ2i9MkoW7ln_QZbKIZWNK5cvDm5gCBoxi9ItEaBIG55A3AdDaolH4v9G3Rpey7HlAQboxFV-51_YjJXdbnjenQCjzF46Er_hAM1Xkovs4GzBEyqCbQN-H_aGz4aSA5B1yY864PXl6rvY5tYFtKD4gjOlDwUFexBZDM3OyfUBaXtf8bHYJdOGsFF0U1k/s4032/IMG_9607.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoJ2i9MkoW7ln_QZbKIZWNK5cvDm5gCBoxi9ItEaBIG55A3AdDaolH4v9G3Rpey7HlAQboxFV-51_YjJXdbnjenQCjzF46Er_hAM1Xkovs4GzBEyqCbQN-H_aGz4aSA5B1yY864PXl6rvY5tYFtKD4gjOlDwUFexBZDM3OyfUBaXtf8bHYJdOGsFF0U1k/s320/IMG_9607.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1SqGHbmk60YVtF5x_JVLzArbLcv0gKzkgv2aGnsBkhLCnGQaWC_uqERgGEX4zdmHtqH5zBLu4oVmhyitRXPUkwEhneah4R_qxuSDrMypu6JWLK8R3zqyYWmJSWY-YPt_FcV0ZnIgzwmP0RMFUhSuGIuH7fc55PNfBn3d7Xqz154oDjtAt2OIMaE6DVao/s4032/IMG_9613.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1SqGHbmk60YVtF5x_JVLzArbLcv0gKzkgv2aGnsBkhLCnGQaWC_uqERgGEX4zdmHtqH5zBLu4oVmhyitRXPUkwEhneah4R_qxuSDrMypu6JWLK8R3zqyYWmJSWY-YPt_FcV0ZnIgzwmP0RMFUhSuGIuH7fc55PNfBn3d7Xqz154oDjtAt2OIMaE6DVao/s320/IMG_9613.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After the ride, Brad met us back at the cabin to hang out for the night. He brought his own guitar, and we had a lot of fun playing around on that, listening to music, and discussing all important aspects of life. But seriously, it was a really great time hanging out. Brad is pretty awesome at guitar, and he knows lots of Led Zeppelin songs from memory.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Hanging out all night in the cabin also reinforced my belief that I need to get my own cabin eventually. I loved not having a TV and some of the other distractions for a weekend.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3BeFbTF8peYt3DW5OkzWGP-tS0y1OzL2eDSe0JqAbd_wc1c8EjRBVvVc6xUHcTq-Y6oqi9j2lAWb0tsV3io5IQ1WjTwhmZC66N6ceAuriy6BbBIAEcYBKHehosGF3kjsqyXJJzNnUI_BpMXhpdSLSTA6Oyvbo4RMqRCJeXa5E9F8xLbzqAzlLDNDmuz4/s4032/IMG_9624.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3BeFbTF8peYt3DW5OkzWGP-tS0y1OzL2eDSe0JqAbd_wc1c8EjRBVvVc6xUHcTq-Y6oqi9j2lAWb0tsV3io5IQ1WjTwhmZC66N6ceAuriy6BbBIAEcYBKHehosGF3kjsqyXJJzNnUI_BpMXhpdSLSTA6Oyvbo4RMqRCJeXa5E9F8xLbzqAzlLDNDmuz4/s320/IMG_9624.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC1A2dk-zAonJIU3PMWOJ5ze8CiYZetABpMf5zH50-6HgTcoNa9wL1JtYlSSL6gMtNa5z-KSQQRY2zeQp9QPPqU-7u5sTTEACZYRBwy3anE3gQ5y54h0TZIzibgubSGZIl9zSetxBf67iHkwN-3OmYzFDJh3iOH0L_L_MqT2CURjxxHWnYpm_YnazywLs/s4032/IMG_9637.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC1A2dk-zAonJIU3PMWOJ5ze8CiYZetABpMf5zH50-6HgTcoNa9wL1JtYlSSL6gMtNa5z-KSQQRY2zeQp9QPPqU-7u5sTTEACZYRBwy3anE3gQ5y54h0TZIzibgubSGZIl9zSetxBf67iHkwN-3OmYzFDJh3iOH0L_L_MqT2CURjxxHWnYpm_YnazywLs/s320/IMG_9637.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The next morning, Brad headed home and I took Stick out for a ride to show him some more new trails. We first did an obscure trail off of Boal Gap Road that isn't named, followed by Hessick Trail, a fun downhill back down to Boal Gap.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Next up was climbing Thickhead - like in the Wilderness 101 - but we turned onto Long Mountain Trail part way up. Long Mountain Trail isn't very popular, probably because of the 200 foot hike-a-bike at the start, but it's rewarding descent.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Unlike most trails, Long Mountain isn't particularly technical. In fact, I don't think you have to ride over more than a handful of rocks the whole way down. At times, it's almost doubletrack. Still, I love it. It's long - over 1200 feet of descent - and it feels pretty remote.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The final part of the day was climbing Detweiler up to the very top of Thickhead Mountain, ripping down Thickhead, and making another journey up John Wert. It was a fantastic cap to a fantastic weekend.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Leaving State College and Rothrock is always a bit hard, but I'm planning to make a lot more trips up there in the near future. Plus, I'll be applying for teaching jobs next spring, and State College is on the top of my list. We'll see how it goes, but those Appalachian mountains keep drawing me in.</div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgpILiTO_IL0YrLEgEBUbosFztySN3jA4yt6kxZMNzK5qjc5yrwISow0cFIpW6-ZpisT9xH0ZtfI26YajVmcA2olVVy2DDbnPvmNDttcjO5Yuzj_ud8rNeSBoV23b5PTij1y49QWn9umRDtKQSQaTWhf546tYNIcGPspRqp73o2tvI1orWXuxlTEUvv4/s4032/IMG_9653.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgpILiTO_IL0YrLEgEBUbosFztySN3jA4yt6kxZMNzK5qjc5yrwISow0cFIpW6-ZpisT9xH0ZtfI26YajVmcA2olVVy2DDbnPvmNDttcjO5Yuzj_ud8rNeSBoV23b5PTij1y49QWn9umRDtKQSQaTWhf546tYNIcGPspRqp73o2tvI1orWXuxlTEUvv4/s320/IMG_9653.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my favorite views from the top of Thickhead Mountain</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p></div>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-52274985145295944732023-11-03T07:35:00.000-04:002023-11-03T07:35:45.795-04:00Q&A with Kenny Kocarek<div><i>I present to you the newest part of my blog: a written question-and-answer discussion with inspirational people that I know in the cycling world. I've always wanted to do something like this, and after seeing Kenny Kocarek take on the DWR 500 route, I decided it was the perfect time to start.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>So, with that being said, here's Hamburger Talk #1 with Kenny.</i></div><div><br /></div><div>Before we start, I'll give a brief overview of what it's about. Kenny rode 314 miles through the state of Ohio in a single ride, from the southern border to the northern border on Lake Erie. Pretty dang impressive. Oh, and he did it on a singlespeed, too. I've known Kenny for a couple years now, having met him at Transylvania Epic back in 2021, and he's always doing cool things on his bike. Plus, he's an all-star trail builder and volunteer at Camp Tuscazoar in Ohio. If you want to check out his ride on Strava, or find him on Instagram, follow the links below.</div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyPQ02lc7w1OrB0EgbxEAB7fvzyeIZXLKZ0t6ro0uuzqHgv36i4N1YEYRUboYCi1QIa-oGBFvZcVAGtiiDXQZMX70vsKcH3uzy2M5QcMeKxyPeYeRGWhHZJ5j92wCdbIxQ9eV-yCtjVgsrHOds-dyGzwicJyi49fVaAfAt42GfOmSyfdlRtJo9oumQxgw/s1234/IMG_9527.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="1234" data-original-width="1170" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyPQ02lc7w1OrB0EgbxEAB7fvzyeIZXLKZ0t6ro0uuzqHgv36i4N1YEYRUboYCi1QIa-oGBFvZcVAGtiiDXQZMX70vsKcH3uzy2M5QcMeKxyPeYeRGWhHZJ5j92wCdbIxQ9eV-yCtjVgsrHOds-dyGzwicJyi49fVaAfAt42GfOmSyfdlRtJo9oumQxgw/w219-h231/IMG_9527.jpg" width="219" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>Kenny's DWR 500 ride on Strava - <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/9911020883">https://www.strava.com/activities/9911020883</a></div><div>Kenny's Instagram - <a href="https://instagram.com/kachuke?igshid=MmVlMjlkMTBhMg==">https://instagram.com/kachuke?igshid=MmVlMjlkMTBhMg==</a></div><div><br /></div><div><span><a name='more'></a></span></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>John: Alright, so first of all, who is Kenny Kocarek? Give us a brief bio.</b><br /><br />Kenny: Who is Kenny Kocarek? - a 42 year old married white male in search of crazy adventure ideas that can be enjoyed on two wheels! Seriously I’m a Quality Engineer with an awesome wife and two tuxedo cats if I’m not riding bikes I am Vice President of the Camp Tuscazoar Foundation and you will usually find me there working on a project that is usually trail related. Over the last 11ish years I have helped develop build and maintain the trails of what is now a 14 mile system in North East Ohio with plenty of room left to grow.<br /><br /><b>J: The Dirty Water Route 500, or DWR 500, goes all the way through Ohio from south to north, if I’m not mistaken. How did you first hear about this and what inspired you to attempt it on your singlespeed?</b><br /><br />K: I was talking to Nick Campbell (another fellow Ohio Singlespeeder) on a group ride and he was wearing a DWR shirt, since I had recently completed Trans North Georgia singlespeed I asked him about it, he completed it on gears and said that no one has done it on a single yet and he wanted to be the first the following year, that caught my attention and I really liked the idea of racing him to be the first. He had some injuries and unfortunately when I lined up I was the only single and the first person to ever give it a shot so I had a bunch of geared guys to “race” and make sure that I was the first to get to Lake Erie with just one gear! <br /><br /><b>J: Describe your bike setup. Were you satisfied with it?<br /></b><br />K: I rode a Rodeo Labs Trail Donkey 4, with Schwalbe G One Overland 45c tires. Gearing was 38x19, this type of riding is what this bike was made for I had a full frame bag and ran super light I believe I was still under 27 lbs “loaded” up. The Overlands were great because when I hit the few paved sections I barely lost any rolling resistance but had good grip for standing and mashing in steep loose gravel climbs<br /><br /><b><br />J: Now for the actual ride itself. I’m sure there were lots of highs and lows during the ride, so take us through how the ride went for you. How did it start? How did you feel? What were the high points and low points?</b><br /><br />K: I woke up with a lot of hesitance, the week prior I had major pains in my left foot and limping, but when I would ride I did not have pain in my cycling shoe—after DWR I learned it was arthritis in my big toe, how lame - yes I did not go to the doctor before, I was not going to be benched for this if I could pedal - insert dumb male getting old comment here, I did learn because of the stiff shoes that is why I did not hurt on the bike so it all worked out! Anyway, I did tell myself if I had pain within the first five miles I would pull the plug A. Because my ride was leaving South Point, Ohio and B. I have a little bit of an adult inside of me!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggcoy8Y6o5niywOEDUGLgL9ETd6R6nbOWtCiRa0q87VWmlFbp_xcW41BajCMfdYcDs5KimOwUVEu2fylVnZben626Zg-ZOsFivMnaLdSsnDz02ybeG9v-p0iZF4j4QnRh8cvWFGaJoJPPFCPiaDmM6L2cfeVzWlhZrJVLaFaoK9_z3D75B8D8t0Ujp8i8/s278/Picture1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="278" data-original-width="210" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggcoy8Y6o5niywOEDUGLgL9ETd6R6nbOWtCiRa0q87VWmlFbp_xcW41BajCMfdYcDs5KimOwUVEu2fylVnZben626Zg-ZOsFivMnaLdSsnDz02ybeG9v-p0iZF4j4QnRh8cvWFGaJoJPPFCPiaDmM6L2cfeVzWlhZrJVLaFaoK9_z3D75B8D8t0Ujp8i8/s1600/Picture1.png" width="210" /></a></div><div><br />We start at 5am at the Ohio River, I intentionally rode the first mile with my wife Corianne, and friends/teammates Amie and Sam. I wanted to “race” this but did not want to get sucked in trying to draft geared guys like this was a Hundo race I knew Rodney Reed was going to go for sub 24 and my goal was 24 to 30 hours but still latching onto his wheel was not good for my ride. Avg speed for sub 24 was 13.5 miles per hour and I was going to hold that until I couldn’t. As usual when riding a single about 35 miles in I started reeling in the geared bikes that shot off like rockets and the terrain started climbing and found myself into 5th place and closing up fast! </div><div><br /></div><div>My strategy was run light and make quick stops often, mile 50 was the first town and of course there is a beautiful Dollar General that just opened, I run in grab supplies and as I’m in line I hear the person off to the side say “Did you see the six cyclists just go through town?” WHAT?! I thought to myself, being my first time and not having a lot of course intel most of the people rolled right through town or made a water only stop so I was back in 11th place also stuck on a loooooong stretch of flat rode and no amount of spinning was going to close that gap. After 30 or so miles of flat, steep rollers, head wind and the heat of the day setting in I started to go to my dark spot. This route was very beautiful most of the time but not on this stretch or that’s what I told myself. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJDKhZh8Xo-SwhE8vXDity2faBanwVDxGX9EPGGofvBbpgDpHUk1yYD9hgsxaN0O_7ftIdo0_dfNa8IsaC7lhyphenhyphenfFO3yL_HkgpmR026xeF80brH3C-5XaG6V0Mcbj4-BA1U43W14bHFogwVFSTHMX4WsdyT6geCEBu1OY-HLN0q40HL3bI14a15Zf-9tNA/s432/Picture2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="432" data-original-width="348" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJDKhZh8Xo-SwhE8vXDity2faBanwVDxGX9EPGGofvBbpgDpHUk1yYD9hgsxaN0O_7ftIdo0_dfNa8IsaC7lhyphenhyphenfFO3yL_HkgpmR026xeF80brH3C-5XaG6V0Mcbj4-BA1U43W14bHFogwVFSTHMX4WsdyT6geCEBu1OY-HLN0q40HL3bI14a15Zf-9tNA/s320/Picture2.png" width="258" /></a></div><div><br /> I have done enough of these silly rides to know you will always get hit with the dark moment. It is how you mentally handle it that makes these events so great because that is the real challenge. I acknowledged it to myself and told myself to just keep moving forward. Mile 100 at Lake Hope I caught a couple riders at the water stop their surprised reaction was priceless. The comment was made “your still going?!” of course I played it off and acted stronger than I felt but the look of confusion and doubt was all over them…how is this idiot on one gear standing here with me?! Events like TNGA people seem to know if you are on an SS that it is not to be underestimated but this is a different world where they are not use to seeing a single speeder at anything other than the local cyclocross race, it was time to go to work and I felt some confidence come back.<br /> <br /> I get to mile 114 and needed to stop for lunch, I yearned for Taco Bell but a McDonalds was a half mile closer, I caught two more riders just leaving and got the same confused reaction that the singlespeeder was still going. I order food ready to get in and out .. 15 minutes later I get my food… so much for fast food. I walk outside trying to decide if I was going to give up any more “relaxing” and just jump on the bike and eat and ride then I am tackled by Peyton Randolph and Van and Kayla in tow! </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnlqtYVipFOVK1vO1nVE9IhrH8zHGGTN0ZooXge7yaxg4owPshtrYt4Wz7qXh95ggPEC4wnW4PN9e4R_iuPbVqDMpbXMI7vGK0z_jUSClpm8Iej28a0XL8RzUY6qHTTq2LyR2OAo5GAJ5hLtYvotOEthEFNoww-9VYVS9jPbMtvoEXLE0zfBmrrG7Jlvc/s324/Picture3.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="324" data-original-width="258" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnlqtYVipFOVK1vO1nVE9IhrH8zHGGTN0ZooXge7yaxg4owPshtrYt4Wz7qXh95ggPEC4wnW4PN9e4R_iuPbVqDMpbXMI7vGK0z_jUSClpm8Iej28a0XL8RzUY6qHTTq2LyR2OAo5GAJ5hLtYvotOEthEFNoww-9VYVS9jPbMtvoEXLE0zfBmrrG7Jlvc/s320/Picture3.png" width="255" /></a></div><div><br /> They were in the area and caught me so it was decided to sit down and get a mental recharge. Having friendly conversation and getting to talk about my current down in the dumps mood is exactly what I needed. Back on the bike rejuvenated mentally I was ready to stop letting everyone else and my competitive spirit guide my ride, I went back to my mantra..protect your body (nether region, food, mental state) then the bike and let everything fall into place. Each town I would yo yo with riders and slowly overtake them as my little engine that could pace just kept chugging along. Good thing about DWR is that you have cell service almost the whole time so if I was walking a hill I’d check in on the girls, or read/respond messages from friends who were watching along. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVVLy55-pKav4fze75wavPzLJQRflWPsVZp-YpF1tIMIgwycuDXOHPhWEOV6q8Dx6T_A0jvnHh6wXrM-Uzv0meYkvsbsEz6_4JjiTLGCOHFs5smXXtrzr-udKZA3ECG1djLAeFdY9eSFI8okDfV74OCGlPgiHCpUuD_u1sBYualv4Vba3XiWJoiaXp_c/s340/Picture4.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="288" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVVLy55-pKav4fze75wavPzLJQRflWPsVZp-YpF1tIMIgwycuDXOHPhWEOV6q8Dx6T_A0jvnHh6wXrM-Uzv0meYkvsbsEz6_4JjiTLGCOHFs5smXXtrzr-udKZA3ECG1djLAeFdY9eSFI8okDfV74OCGlPgiHCpUuD_u1sBYualv4Vba3XiWJoiaXp_c/s320/Picture4.png" width="271" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Then the sun set, most people the night is what makes them crack. Sleep deprivation starts so set in, mentally you lose all your stimulus because it is just a light on the road, this is the part I look forward to and embrace the battle that is about to happen! Of course in DWR this is when you hit Mohican territory, the biggest hills roughest gravel and the largest gap for fuel (almost 80 miles till next open gas station).</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJWh0fNUsIGiuNfBmQqq96zVWLKecl3qCtpXoEs0uc2DDQmZZyWaUJtj1QpTN1CS_P98yae0WqI_QuRsEika9bl9xhqay5iqM32k_cnsRYIdeMQWTIgBg2-wL4CPXpaEJ-fWO4ij80w2nBZFts7efS3C5wwNXSmSy-kkGlk7kg73fd6bBYdFPEuEqWmJI/s350/Picture5.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="350" data-original-width="230" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJWh0fNUsIGiuNfBmQqq96zVWLKecl3qCtpXoEs0uc2DDQmZZyWaUJtj1QpTN1CS_P98yae0WqI_QuRsEika9bl9xhqay5iqM32k_cnsRYIdeMQWTIgBg2-wL4CPXpaEJ-fWO4ij80w2nBZFts7efS3C5wwNXSmSy-kkGlk7kg73fd6bBYdFPEuEqWmJI/s320/Picture5.png" width="210" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbfW_p5C1J0-fHJzYr1CnssfRseEhVfkN_HKzZplI1OWGWWBkNHV9EBQfIqcc8m7wYQVoW2ge7Sz5oXCWa3x3t4t15KXHTWwJKvae2GIPGqNs4nnW4VRAIxNgjSe4BHtU93nTPvNNrsTyBXO8T7tgJk9Ht3WDQFpR7TOMj2pQ5vvfNgZ3lwnATn0gU-EQ/s342/Picture6.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="342" data-original-width="292" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbfW_p5C1J0-fHJzYr1CnssfRseEhVfkN_HKzZplI1OWGWWBkNHV9EBQfIqcc8m7wYQVoW2ge7Sz5oXCWa3x3t4t15KXHTWwJKvae2GIPGqNs4nnW4VRAIxNgjSe4BHtU93nTPvNNrsTyBXO8T7tgJk9Ht3WDQFpR7TOMj2pQ5vvfNgZ3lwnATn0gU-EQ/s320/Picture6.png" width="273" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Before nightfall looking at the route I broke the main section into 18 mile sections—18 to bridge of dreams 18 to covered bridge then it was smooth sailing..that was a heck of a 36 miles! From Amish out cruising the zone ..rolling 6 buggies deep with techno music blaring and subs blasting, to a sheriff with full redneck light bar kit lighting me up and questioning me my obviously silly intentions I made it out of Mohican land in fourth place! </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPdUFLgKy3LEhFxyX6H19BtlSRg-h-xcqt5rWrVpmbFcakztHwxGWRGZL-O9640PY1NNoworthEdI6pculkG0VHrR-TYOmtLXRY1a_1ukkQaxy-t1Vqi2XMbraly7_ttK1bfbS5dlloW0Hu9-_Ja4iAMhZGdHexxXwFjZ-mbcguj4xkTfPK7lEwW8Njus/s400/Picture8.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="366" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPdUFLgKy3LEhFxyX6H19BtlSRg-h-xcqt5rWrVpmbFcakztHwxGWRGZL-O9640PY1NNoworthEdI6pculkG0VHrR-TYOmtLXRY1a_1ukkQaxy-t1Vqi2XMbraly7_ttK1bfbS5dlloW0Hu9-_Ja4iAMhZGdHexxXwFjZ-mbcguj4xkTfPK7lEwW8Njus/s320/Picture8.png" width="293" /></a></div><div><br />From there the route tames down to chip and seal farm roads but the sleep deprivation leading up to sunrise and lack of road changing mentally hit me pretty hard I just wanted to lay in a ditch and sleep but I wanted to get done before the sun rose so I started singing out loud, at one point I passed a golf course and saw a pond so I dunked my head in the very oddly warm water and soaked my jersey, being 50 degrees it was cold enough to keep me “awake” I spun as much as I could, even raised my average speed up a mile per hour overall but all I wanted was for the sun to rise then I knew I would officially wake up and finish the ride on a good note. It was a beautiful sunrise maybe I missed a random goal but I was a few miles from the finish and I could “coast” in. I finished in 27 hours and 1 minute….yes 1 minute, I did not have a timer running on my Garmin if I would have known I was that close I would have pushed, but regardless I set the “fastest known time” anyway right?! I rolled in and Anthony Bunt the organizer was there to greet me, seriously MAJOR kudos to him he was there for Rodney who finished first and was there to welcome all the riders in that finished in the 36 hour window, that shows how much he cares about this route and those who participate. I doubted the intentions at first but that is a top notch move to make for an organizer, especially for an event that is now free. He awarded me with a custom DWR FKT SS trophy, broken derailleur and all we talked for a few hours and chatted with finishers, then I decided to take a nap in my truck.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicUhlR7NFWSolgndcqcreSk1ZmR5l9dHOecgvfWkyab_EHHajc9-1wjH-qYpMaSJYbaukx_GWp0O6BDoNcqV2FjrBz-uyOV2vA6MV2iqiXad73EUTayUJzMZzna-_aBepX5KYqHfuGqwexcXKYB273gYLrT6kYcuEulEae-wxoFtB-T1EZArwvG1soo-Q/s328/Picture9.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="328" data-original-width="268" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicUhlR7NFWSolgndcqcreSk1ZmR5l9dHOecgvfWkyab_EHHajc9-1wjH-qYpMaSJYbaukx_GWp0O6BDoNcqV2FjrBz-uyOV2vA6MV2iqiXad73EUTayUJzMZzna-_aBepX5KYqHfuGqwexcXKYB273gYLrT6kYcuEulEae-wxoFtB-T1EZArwvG1soo-Q/s320/Picture9.png" width="261" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRCDMmxUFgmWCRaxQ7zsYyOpKhTYuse5J1l-DHEICKfY8aeWtwdh_9Fiz-WkeiAtd_gsGMqINzAuv-8HKUoI7EQqx0RksykYwmcnnLGm2LrkU6h2LItbVS-xc7_FaMZLxkDDGt5XwJWZqpxI01XvIe-7-1bgP7OjZWkCbesBmg2V_khY7Mq4N9gxdLn0/s328/Picturetrophy.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="328" data-original-width="254" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRCDMmxUFgmWCRaxQ7zsYyOpKhTYuse5J1l-DHEICKfY8aeWtwdh_9Fiz-WkeiAtd_gsGMqINzAuv-8HKUoI7EQqx0RksykYwmcnnLGm2LrkU6h2LItbVS-xc7_FaMZLxkDDGt5XwJWZqpxI01XvIe-7-1bgP7OjZWkCbesBmg2V_khY7Mq4N9gxdLn0/s320/Picturetrophy.png" width="248" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>J: Looking back on the ride, is there anything you’d change or do differently next time?</b></div><div><b><br /></b>K: If I wanted to do another “competitive” run I would plan to make longer pulls and not stop as much, not knowing the course first hand put me at a disadvantage and strategically I could have made up some time in different areas…also it’s so hard not to stop at that random Dollar General though!!!! Seriously the one thing I would change would be to respect the course sooner I was just ripping through it and I think that is why I got into my dark spot so early, I was expecting an easy run through Ohio but forgot how steep our little hills are over and over, Anthony said to respect the course and the pre race meeting and he was 100% correct, it is a manageable course but it will sneak up and bite you if you take it for granted.<br /><br /></div><div><b>J: Do you have any other big rides or races planned? I know you did 24 Hours of Old Pueblo last year, any plans to do that again?</b></div><div><br />K: Well currently I’ve had about five people send me the PANTS route but I see that as maybe a more casual roll. I have yet to do a long ride where I get to actually bikepack and camp to enjoy it, not just sleep in a random barn or ditch, I really want that experience to actually ride a hundred a day then sleep.<br />Race wise looks like I am going back to the Transylvania Epic Stage Race, I’d like to get back to “shorter” 100k or hundo races with my all my East Coast Single speed friends - plus without me and Dahn the OH PA rivalry seems to be dying off----not that I was competitive in it, but I was the little yippy dog that stoked the fire.<br /><br /></div><div><b>J: I want to bring up something unrelated for a minute. I know you’re involved with Camp Tuscazoar in Ohio and the trails there, so tell us what’s that all about.</b></div><div><br /></div><div>K: I have been involved with the Camp Tuscazoar trails for roughly 11 years, I randomly got involved when I was basically working part time and it had 4 miles of trails which were mostly the traditional Boy Scout fall line trails. It began for me as a personal training ground when I was a racer boy as it easily has over 100’ per mile in vert and plenty of techy bits. Then I realized that if you just make a hard trail it is destined to fail as you will not bring new people to the community so it’ll never grow thus no one will ever take over for me! So we started making the trail flow and built a stacked loop system our trail crew would build trails based off races that we attended and would replicate them on small scale, so we have a Raystown trail, a Rothrock Trail, A Pisgah trail, A snowshoe trail, it would be an easy trail then a hard trail depending on what the terrain gave us so while Tuscazoar is only 14 miles the variety of each trail in my bias opinion makes it the best in Ohio. The best description someone gave me was it’s like Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde, one minute you are in a difficult tech section then it will open up into a massive flow trail , it always keeps you guessing and does not get redundant. That is why it is a great trail for our Reign of Pain 6ish Hour race we hold the first weekend of July every year. It is a 6.5 hour hard stop race where the goal is to have fun and push yourself to personal goals (and our largest trail fundraiser for the year…last year we raised $8k for development and maintenance!) We have the traditional Stockade that forms the pit area for the race where people are playing music, cooking out on the grill, socializing…o yeah and maybe riding bikes around. We have a great mix of competitive riders and casual riders there just for the party and helping raise funds for our mission!<br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd20Mm3JPdf-if0jEk4Tvj60SlPEXSr9XBfXeOa0CtelNMOlEsejBCJbyoZ07qLCw4mQ6gqSrH3DCjw-h8U702I24aGNf44iiRUGcXTm61PJORPPII7x8ydE0nuxuD0ZEuRK0PYDcrCb-5YtYPqjQQCrTE7cx0WQWvLLDWThq3ZyDR2gN3_scngidhWVE/s492/Picture10.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="278" data-original-width="492" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd20Mm3JPdf-if0jEk4Tvj60SlPEXSr9XBfXeOa0CtelNMOlEsejBCJbyoZ07qLCw4mQ6gqSrH3DCjw-h8U702I24aGNf44iiRUGcXTm61PJORPPII7x8ydE0nuxuD0ZEuRK0PYDcrCb-5YtYPqjQQCrTE7cx0WQWvLLDWThq3ZyDR2gN3_scngidhWVE/s320/Picture10.png" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><b>J: Alright, the exit ticket now. A lot of people know about the Pittsburgh vs. Ohio rivalry, and I have to say, it’s one of my favorite things. Do you have any insight into how that whole thing started? I have to assume it involves Dahn Pahrs somehow.</b></div><div><br />K: O boy, I get to give the first side of the rivalry!!! So it all began with Peyton Randolph deciding to singlespeed in the local XC series, he beat me down naturally but we became friends and that friendship inbred more Ohio SS’rs then we started moving out of Ohio to the NUE series where we would run into Dahn and other PA SS’rs, well the Peyton’s, Josh Kunz, Eli Orth’s started to step on boxes , naturally Dahn would make a wrong turn and we would sneak up ahead. Then Ohio kept inching closer without Dahn making wrong turns and the trash talking kept getting louder with each inch we got, luckily we have Joe Worby to help us with our social media trash talk! It all came to at TSE where there was a massive throwdown…..between Peyton and all of PA ... I mean OH and PA. Dahn claimed that OH would not see a podium and Peyton snuck one in and Ohio got to raise our flag in PA at singletrack summer camp. Dahn was so embarrassed, and I thought you all exiled him out of PA and to Utah. It’s a shame as he is obviously living his worst life out there hahahaha. The rivalry has definitely cooled down since Peyton has a dad bod now and everyone is PTSSer’s and raising children but who knows maybe it’ll get fired back up in the future!<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_zNGTc3we9JMYLXTiQvJus40kFZJhx7qnQFxSyxBkCGf8GqFb_8GNgrVCjpcr6LUqsq28tIQT0gGi6xmvx8IHupsAox8ts6kSH7_jSswobx-7vamip3AuVtoeGVDMZ3u_Hd-okdvdjfpxuazDynx3jwsd32tvBW4Pemk9LXSuqeRgkgJk1gCwwtuFzC0/s340/Pictureohio.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="340" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_zNGTc3we9JMYLXTiQvJus40kFZJhx7qnQFxSyxBkCGf8GqFb_8GNgrVCjpcr6LUqsq28tIQT0gGi6xmvx8IHupsAox8ts6kSH7_jSswobx-7vamip3AuVtoeGVDMZ3u_Hd-okdvdjfpxuazDynx3jwsd32tvBW4Pemk9LXSuqeRgkgJk1gCwwtuFzC0/w381-h252/Pictureohio.png" width="381" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Ride Stats:</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">314.50 miles</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">21,996 ft elevation</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Moving Time 24:35:57</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Total time 27:01:06</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">9302 calories burnt</span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV66yQxze_sYllnG2CtJmVCuv3xwgG8ZBQZhrBhM2Y6dVvy0kd0i44M8U52GTVSXxkL3t_1vkzPJC8_rEO1X_U95uUDU79ksSGvGnSLf-e8OBsaXiiqALLEFuOq4S400Yzou7myieCMLr9bmwy_0d2vQLmC1588WKPPC_Ph8fSXMQsLLwdTIo9xcCBDoU/s414/Picturemap.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="414" data-original-width="394" height="381" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV66yQxze_sYllnG2CtJmVCuv3xwgG8ZBQZhrBhM2Y6dVvy0kd0i44M8U52GTVSXxkL3t_1vkzPJC8_rEO1X_U95uUDU79ksSGvGnSLf-e8OBsaXiiqALLEFuOq4S400Yzou7myieCMLr9bmwy_0d2vQLmC1588WKPPC_Ph8fSXMQsLLwdTIo9xcCBDoU/w363-h381/Picturemap.png" width="363" /></a></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEsIu1IM3lgOGiqcpKTA2wmw0mP9hvoHmP3YeWrY1-H6VDdDxAjL7s9-pbwYZqsTVnANp_362Cq5APPWJ8T_JY-4Ym_ZAhir_HG548HYVGtifixL-zskRiFCEbe9Te5lmrHbJAzjaQ43H1wOyOCurhVhd29YNhY_EbLcX-0w6sscv5GHQjrlRZx70wP-0/s936/Pictureelevation.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="144" data-original-width="936" height="102" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEsIu1IM3lgOGiqcpKTA2wmw0mP9hvoHmP3YeWrY1-H6VDdDxAjL7s9-pbwYZqsTVnANp_362Cq5APPWJ8T_JY-4Ym_ZAhir_HG548HYVGtifixL-zskRiFCEbe9Te5lmrHbJAzjaQ43H1wOyOCurhVhd29YNhY_EbLcX-0w6sscv5GHQjrlRZx70wP-0/w668-h102/Pictureelevation.png" width="668" /></a></div><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat rgb(202, 240, 254);"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto; font-size: 11pt;"></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat rgb(202, 240, 254);"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="-webkit-standard" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat rgb(202, 240, 254); font-size: 11pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="-webkit-standard" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat rgb(202, 240, 254); font-size: 11pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat rgb(202, 240, 254);"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-22102059513923281102023-10-10T11:28:00.002-04:002023-10-10T11:29:23.903-04:00The Pisgah 111<p>When it comes to east coast riding, there are few spots that rival the ruggedness of Pisgah. In Pisgah, you never know when a tame-looking trail will suddenly point down at a 30% grade with washed out ruts, and to me, that's what makes it special. My brother had never been to Pisgah before this trip, and when he was asking what Pisgah was like, that's how I described it: it goes from 0-60 in the blink of an eye. Just ride down Turkey Pen Trail, or hike your bike up Middle Black Trail, and you'll know what I mean.</p><p>Alright, so now to the actual race. The Pisgah 111 is Pisgah's endurance MTB race, and it get's its name form being roughly 111 kilometers, or 68.9722 miles for those who don't habla. Actual distance may vary. </p><p>In terms of average speed, it's the slowest race I've done this year, except for maybe Stage 5 Wheeler Pass of Breck Epic. Even Marji Gesick, which with a wheel sensor is 115 miles, took me 11.5 hours, meaning an average speed of exactly 10 mph. The Pisgah 111 took me 7 hours and 23 minutes, and being only about 67 miles (with a wheel sensor), that's an average speed of just north of 9 mph. Like I said, Pisgah is very tough.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqYQFQglOmHijYBWDFQp2F7f2IkozT_0Inlds0eHeZMPwtFZztIyGQ_6xmpzzxtBn0F86JOHLLYweKipeuOttmppZMPl1sQRXNU8lXXxI8qx7Ka7MUggFRWO9VjHmGIaNWI2CYQ-9Inqs5o5np_ASmcJUp4IQfiuHCdiriN7Lqm8zr5ErZT4SVvd3aLo/s1920/IMG_9289.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1920" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqYQFQglOmHijYBWDFQp2F7f2IkozT_0Inlds0eHeZMPwtFZztIyGQ_6xmpzzxtBn0F86JOHLLYweKipeuOttmppZMPl1sQRXNU8lXXxI8qx7Ka7MUggFRWO9VjHmGIaNWI2CYQ-9Inqs5o5np_ASmcJUp4IQfiuHCdiriN7Lqm8zr5ErZT4SVvd3aLo/s320/IMG_9289.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Left to right: Chad, Chris, Hamburger, Ryan</td></tr></tbody></table><span></span><span><a name='more'></a></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The trip to Pisgah began Thursday evening by picking up Stick (the person, not the piece of wood) and heading south. We made it to Beckley, WV before getting a hotel and continuing the drive the next morning. We rolled into Brevard, NC (the closest town to Pisgah) a little after 11am on Friday, and got some Subway for lunch.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Since check-in for the campsite wasn't until a bit later, we drove up to the Blue Ridge Parkway after lunch to check out the scenery. I drove up there with Rob back in May, and since Zach had never been to Pisgah, I figured it was worth a drive up. As usual, the views did not disappoint.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The campground let us in early, a little before 1pm, so we went to the campsite and got ready for a little ride. I made a route that left from camp and took us up Avery Creek Road before going down Bennett Gap Trail. The race doesn't do that trail, so I figured it would be nice to see something new.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkPJXU77P5tGvFEsPvEITAU2leVX8ZGprlDcno7PidMnww-RZkbLtXkWIk1xIKxg8T2fpkWW-W-kB__2BnX-QcxU1ftyJh2cFr6-TwKyEpT3SypYDyHeu1B6PECPOfetr2Fu-9FksxaG541oMpSLp0zsOZq6cKK4MbvbH4XtkbDM-406N-Vsub5dUXh8/s4032/IMG_9232.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkPJXU77P5tGvFEsPvEITAU2leVX8ZGprlDcno7PidMnww-RZkbLtXkWIk1xIKxg8T2fpkWW-W-kB__2BnX-QcxU1ftyJh2cFr6-TwKyEpT3SypYDyHeu1B6PECPOfetr2Fu-9FksxaG541oMpSLp0zsOZq6cKK4MbvbH4XtkbDM-406N-Vsub5dUXh8/s320/IMG_9232.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLYt2L8To9cNri8z67rh9hyphenhyphenACq-ZxpMRWPQguxWkcs0bwRN83Ui0_KRbMk9sjWjLftI_SNZN17_I-H_R8CHwHswssxvqh-e6_SNvOU3nHOtU6SARyo4JEgXVciazK4JDymwnkx3x_CscphFqhogZKad_I4FUdEyFnBZyOGJSQl5aMYy8Qemm6m5BFcNjY/s4032/IMG_9238.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLYt2L8To9cNri8z67rh9hyphenhyphenACq-ZxpMRWPQguxWkcs0bwRN83Ui0_KRbMk9sjWjLftI_SNZN17_I-H_R8CHwHswssxvqh-e6_SNvOU3nHOtU6SARyo4JEgXVciazK4JDymwnkx3x_CscphFqhogZKad_I4FUdEyFnBZyOGJSQl5aMYy8Qemm6m5BFcNjY/s320/IMG_9238.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bennett Gap Trail was both very rugged and very scenic. I won't lie, there were two sections I had to walk. Near the top, there was a janky rock-move switchback that I tried twice, and while I successfully did a track stand and hop turn, I couldn't finish off the easy part and I didn't want to keep tempting fate with the high-ish consequence rock move, so I moved on. Bennett Gap was gnarly, and it gave a good introduction to Zach about what Pisgah is like.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBXgUJEu45l9zdTcLyOf6_KhfsiR0oChnD5q7WKV1tK_WHjzJCDxdV_LMYwRRGGtRvcNrTEB2BDE4SqSob8-7KWozZ1Zlswe0u3syx5pe8hjKqU4cuk45oGSKe0jHlNuZaMZTQi7iCirRS7FI-A7iIlxsU7U65riIfbX2o9tJ0ZL1ezFCOHsT9fJ3mkgk/s4032/IMG_9252.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBXgUJEu45l9zdTcLyOf6_KhfsiR0oChnD5q7WKV1tK_WHjzJCDxdV_LMYwRRGGtRvcNrTEB2BDE4SqSob8-7KWozZ1Zlswe0u3syx5pe8hjKqU4cuk45oGSKe0jHlNuZaMZTQi7iCirRS7FI-A7iIlxsU7U65riIfbX2o9tJ0ZL1ezFCOHsT9fJ3mkgk/s320/IMG_9252.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPZF9pMIDx64w73tCHZ7grAmZ7jFK-V3d2cQlsBTY6W5TZDpKw8Bo1gIHSyYUAt9p_ZA47x69qI4V7hDku13YggWjp366Cs5LkKfTTXoZkx4rZn40h1GqbDfoOod2zACMqNy-IxSXMzF14qFrYb_BD49lnRTHetFd4hEZz8TK3w0jj3vXtRyz8kAuY2Ik/s4032/IMG_9257%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPZF9pMIDx64w73tCHZ7grAmZ7jFK-V3d2cQlsBTY6W5TZDpKw8Bo1gIHSyYUAt9p_ZA47x69qI4V7hDku13YggWjp366Cs5LkKfTTXoZkx4rZn40h1GqbDfoOod2zACMqNy-IxSXMzF14qFrYb_BD49lnRTHetFd4hEZz8TK3w0jj3vXtRyz8kAuY2Ik/s320/IMG_9257%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After getting camp set up, the three of us went out to dinner at Hawg Wild. I got my standard fare there, the three-meat special, and then we went to The Hub bike shop to get Stick a tube. When we got back to camp, Ryan and Chad were there getting set up. I had never met them before, but they're friends of Chris Joice, who booked the campsite and was currently at check-in getting his packet. By the time the weekend was over, it's safe to say we had made some new friends.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The only kerfuffle that evening was the drop bags - the race didn't have ziploc bags, so Zach and I drove to Walmart (luckily only 5 minutes away) to get some. It was worth it to have drop bags.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoI08-uNQj4sSq3jqUeIzy7AX0XfrHKBZNFVSYyfZNJWFHeYX0k8xCKZc5a_6-abpSV5McCrIYXYWcySLW_LYQ54uo3HA9DL0fEyzdSsll0RLlef2z7jJs2ipvbxpqa1bE16uEm9RQpZlT90gA4ou-4cB1_PcGkP7iS51E1rG__vBLnSeird0rIPMGqCI/s4032/IMG_9260.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoI08-uNQj4sSq3jqUeIzy7AX0XfrHKBZNFVSYyfZNJWFHeYX0k8xCKZc5a_6-abpSV5McCrIYXYWcySLW_LYQ54uo3HA9DL0fEyzdSsll0RLlef2z7jJs2ipvbxpqa1bE16uEm9RQpZlT90gA4ou-4cB1_PcGkP7iS51E1rG__vBLnSeird0rIPMGqCI/s320/IMG_9260.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmItqPpWCGPVKV-Vctuda_S-gN9VeMatBGJHp7aRWIsV8ULCyvKOJwfBW7EtiN9Zlf5rS9xMLsJfGxG7rJCYEaAMYsp_jDMt3qxPnSPejrCSix9TV46eJiIupjKgRLIXL3uxuzV_49KPYjq80SdIzUC1toto5CfU1h2SCuFUDyc1hTH-I0MYequtLp-Ao/s4032/IMG_9262.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmItqPpWCGPVKV-Vctuda_S-gN9VeMatBGJHp7aRWIsV8ULCyvKOJwfBW7EtiN9Zlf5rS9xMLsJfGxG7rJCYEaAMYsp_jDMt3qxPnSPejrCSix9TV46eJiIupjKgRLIXL3uxuzV_49KPYjq80SdIzUC1toto5CfU1h2SCuFUDyc1hTH-I0MYequtLp-Ao/s320/IMG_9262.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It wasn't too cold on race morning, and I enjoyed my usual breakfast of two bagels along with a Pedialtye for extra electrolytes. Compared to other races, I was a bit less locked-in before this one, and it seemed more like a party race than usual. That doesn't mean I was planning to go any easier, it just means I wasn't quite as focused. It was partly because it was the last race of the year, and partly because my knee was giving me trouble all week and I was unsure how it would handle the race.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOa06PA9I8V3IevZlPlV8jsSZiDLr5Er_-XBDYty4DgXjG3PKyWoKfaDXBjXoKzxxDVDnxYD-bB78EhLTnt9VA6SnNEx7GyJjZm05Acpg-PDJm8E8n_NkflPHyUx3aS9Cegw5hWvYuTXqWF_LYniQBkQ3tsaN5c2v-W7GvIUO_OfApO4e8DHe5AYST4M/s1920/IMG_9294.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1920" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOa06PA9I8V3IevZlPlV8jsSZiDLr5Er_-XBDYty4DgXjG3PKyWoKfaDXBjXoKzxxDVDnxYD-bB78EhLTnt9VA6SnNEx7GyJjZm05Acpg-PDJm8E8n_NkflPHyUx3aS9Cegw5hWvYuTXqWF_LYniQBkQ3tsaN5c2v-W7GvIUO_OfApO4e8DHe5AYST4M/s320/IMG_9294.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I lined up in the second row behind Chris and just in front of my brother and waited for the start. Eric Wever, the race director, said a few words and then we were off. It started off pretty mellow on 276, the pavement road before getting to the gravel Avery Creek Road. I made sure to stay up near the front, and even with all the flat on Avery Creek, I was able to stay locked on to the front.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Finally, the grade pitched up and the pace increased. I still stuck up at the front, and as we started climbing Clawhammer, it was now only a group of about 10 riders, and I was the only singlespeeder up in the front. Zach was hovering just off the back of the group. I was able to chat with some friends on the climb, particularly Mike K. from Ohio who I had just raced with up at Marji Gesick. Always nice to catch up with people.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I stuck with the lead group - with the pace being driven mostly by Thomas Turner - until we reached the singletrack. They eventually got away from me when I had to hike-a-bike, but I still kept up a solid effort. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I sort of lost track of where I was, and before I knew it, I was going down a gnarly section of Turkey Pen Trail. I had to briefly get off at one point over a wet log drop, but other than that, I rode it all. I really can't emphasize how gnarly of a trail it was, especially with it being wet. Strava says the downhill was 500 feet of vertical descent with an average grade of over 25%, so yeth, quite steep. Also quite rutted.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXJQvOcIb-qcoiR0lC4OBWD30yQoec_S07IMV75Lj_VcnzS5YQCndASnHvwDfFVYo3j7zNwE-UmM0tjnBAvHa2qpsS5oiKDYn5y9_Jikmq5x3DNDPgFPphiVQLlHCqSxfDQ8ztQj4XEWPY-LJfajt6dTesrlyQadDtxM__qxiFLQXNkg7ewg6AU_tg5Q4/s1920/IMG_9287.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1920" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXJQvOcIb-qcoiR0lC4OBWD30yQoec_S07IMV75Lj_VcnzS5YQCndASnHvwDfFVYo3j7zNwE-UmM0tjnBAvHa2qpsS5oiKDYn5y9_Jikmq5x3DNDPgFPphiVQLlHCqSxfDQ8ztQj4XEWPY-LJfajt6dTesrlyQadDtxM__qxiFLQXNkg7ewg6AU_tg5Q4/s320/IMG_9287.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Unfortunately, my knee was starting to act up toward the latter part of Turkey Pen when we hit some more small climbs. I backed off the pace a little, and tried my best to go easy on my knee. It was the IT band, I think caused by some cleat problems and then a big ride the week before. At this point in the race, I was honestly wondering if I'd finish. I started thinking of how I could ride back to the start on gravel if I had to bail from the race. Still, I told myself I'd keep racing until it got too bad to continue. Luckily, my knee never got worse and I was able to manage it the whole day.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The next miles of the race were probably the most backcountry. The trails were overgrown, there were creek crossings, and you had to hike over several big trees. For shorter racers, some of the trees would've been especially difficult to get over.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There was a climb on doubletrack up to the first aid station, and then we bombed down some smooth gravel before doing the extra loop that's not in the 55.5km race. At this point, my knee was a little iffy still, so I just stuck it in a moderate gear (figuratively, obviously I only had one gear to choose on my bike) and pushed on. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Eventually, my knee actually started feeling better, and by the time I got to Yellow Gap Road to climb up to Aid Station 2 (which was just the 1st aid station a second time), my knee wasn't in pain at all. I still didn't push the pace much, but I was riding steady at this point.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga_ehF6HoLtQpFUff-HZjdSs-eh_xeZdUp-K0w3n1pSTPNiR0WbKZUgaDY4FL1UqwdH-f4dSd1e_H7PKDFuOTqLEkPJnXVDpbP9yYsLb6SoSucScIiD66x4kypceHda59xGccjgiE6RYvZD2ifOHJU0RV8ElT5q5yz9YuM9s2wnflnmAeX9L7TKeWwoQU/s1920/IMG_9290.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1920" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga_ehF6HoLtQpFUff-HZjdSs-eh_xeZdUp-K0w3n1pSTPNiR0WbKZUgaDY4FL1UqwdH-f4dSd1e_H7PKDFuOTqLEkPJnXVDpbP9yYsLb6SoSucScIiD66x4kypceHda59xGccjgiE6RYvZD2ifOHJU0RV8ElT5q5yz9YuM9s2wnflnmAeX9L7TKeWwoQU/s320/IMG_9290.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This climb was the biggest one of the race, about 2,500 feet from bottom to top. The first 1,000 feet or so were gravel on Yellow Gap Road, and then we turned onto Laurel Trail to climb up to Pilot Rock. I thought Laurel Trail was much more rideable than I heard, and I barely had to hike at all for the bottom part. It was rocky, scenic, and overall an incredibly enjoyable trail.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Eventually, I reached the hike-a-bike portion of Laurel, the connector up to Pilot Rock. I had ridden (or rather, hiked) that trail with Rob back in May during PMBAR, so I knew it was going to suck. I settled into a rhythm, though, and the hike went by fast.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Next up was Pilot Rock downhill, the highlight of the race. It's a rugged 1,600 foot downhill off the top of a literal mountain, and it's filled with technical features. I generally consider myself a fairly capable technical rider, but on Pilot Rock, I had to put a foot down on a couple switchbacks, and I even had to walk a brief section on one of them. This was only my second time riding the trail, so maybe in the future I'll be able to ride it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I have to mention that Ryan (who camped with us) cleaned all of Pilot Rock downhill on his hardtail singlespeed, which is insanely impressive.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">All of Pilot is technical and fatiguing, but once you get a little further down it, it becomes slightly less so. I love that trail; it's certainly my favorite in the race and one of my favorites anywhere in the country.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After Pilot, there were some flat miles of gravel and doubletrack, not ideal for singlespeed, before climbing back up to Black Mountain Trail. The climb to Black Mountain was much better than I expected; I rode the entire thing and it wasn't that steep at all. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"That isn't so bad", I told myself.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Once we reached Black Trail, I instantly remembered how brutal it was. There was a solid 500+ foot mostly-hiking climb, culminating in a brutally steep pitch to the top where even hiking is tough. Seriously, it's so steep that just lifting your bike up and over rocks is hard.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After the initial hike on Black, there's a brief downhill followed by an almost equally brutal hike, although not quite as long. At last, after that last hike, it's pretty much all downhill to the finish. There's one last little climb further down on Black, but it's mostly all rideable.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Descending Black to the finish was extremely fun. I was really happy with how the day went, especially with the uncertainty with my knee. Compared to other trails, Lower Black is flowy and smooth, which was a welcome change to my tired wrists and hands. Still, the bottom of the trail gets a little rough - with water bars and plenty of roots - so my wrists were still screaming a bit.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Finally, after what seemed like the longest downhill of the day (which it probably was actually), I crossed the finish in 7 hours 23 minutes. I was pretty crusty and dirty from the race, so I immediately rode back to camp to take a quick shower.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Just as I got back to our campsite after showering, Zach came riding up. He finished just about 9 minutes after me, in what was his longest race ever time-wise. I only saw him at the start, but he obviously kept up a good pace the whole day and stayed fairly close behind me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkGAaISGtmYfWqBku0B6osA6FSfg-2RUEg2NrRpl6jLn8Oz73w7w5k4v2gte613uYZXJYZzwAfLXvBlYGDDsKOSSvF6L9t_mvYVrMzzFcwq8kj32nak-vYeZ2dozBKht9snI-rvsexXD7P_tEjscpX23fi9SLT8WmaH9SuaTW65VFqPINmJToWm7e_RKQ/s4032/IMG_9270.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkGAaISGtmYfWqBku0B6osA6FSfg-2RUEg2NrRpl6jLn8Oz73w7w5k4v2gte613uYZXJYZzwAfLXvBlYGDDsKOSSvF6L9t_mvYVrMzzFcwq8kj32nak-vYeZ2dozBKht9snI-rvsexXD7P_tEjscpX23fi9SLT8WmaH9SuaTW65VFqPINmJToWm7e_RKQ/s320/IMG_9270.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTYb3KN1b-89kuZRbPmIB583m6e1bhhLv-Su4m8B1zR2Ceorg2eK6H0Uh0NHn2rn2RsZUIsNyKniooNRZMpB-4SI-OTwrBzrY7ZhUDZuWpcXzyEKiSdADvVITdXobli4ETH6tKooXVD4SlVxoAvIQie4h9CMsK_WlRbYArPwE3Bp3cRQIw5nmUc-lKJOg/s4032/IMG_9278.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTYb3KN1b-89kuZRbPmIB583m6e1bhhLv-Su4m8B1zR2Ceorg2eK6H0Uh0NHn2rn2RsZUIsNyKniooNRZMpB-4SI-OTwrBzrY7ZhUDZuWpcXzyEKiSdADvVITdXobli4ETH6tKooXVD4SlVxoAvIQie4h9CMsK_WlRbYArPwE3Bp3cRQIw5nmUc-lKJOg/s320/IMG_9278.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>I pedaled back over to the race venue - only 1/2 mile from camp - just in time to see Chris Joice finishing strong with a 2nd place SS finish.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now that the race was over, it was officially party time. Shortly after Chris finished, Ryan and Chad crossed the line in 3rd and 4th SS, respectively. After a quick podium picture with the south's finest, our attention turned to beer.</div><div><br /></div><div>As the sun started to set and the beer kept flowing, our enthusiasm for each person finishing the race increased. Pretty soon, we were the race's official cheering section for each finisher. Chris had to leave to head back to Knoxville, but me, Zach, Stick, Ryan, Chad, and a few others stayed to cheer.</div><div><br /></div><div>There was a running race, too, on the 55.5 km course, and they all got an extra special cheer from us cyclists sitting around the beer and food cooler when they finished. The finish line hangouts are one of my favorite parts of Pisgah Production races. </div><div><br /></div><div>It started getting pretty cold, so sometime after 8pm we decided to head back to our campsite and get a fire going. The campground wood for sale was all gated up since it was after-hours, but we managed to scrounge enough wood around the campsite to get a good fire going for a few hours.</div><div><br /></div><div>A couple other friends of Ryan and Chad met us at the campsite to hang out for a couple hours, and before long, it was 11pm and time for bed. It was a fun evening of bullshitting and hanging out with some new friends, and I'll leave it at that.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sunday morning was much colder - in the high 30s I think - but it still wasn't too bad. In the morning, I saw a few Clif bar wrappers laying beneath Stick's hammock, and I quickly realized what happened. I had accidentally left a few Clif bars laying out in my backpack overnight, which I left outside the car, and raccoons or some animal had gotten into them. Stick said he heard some rustling around overnight, so I assume he was hearing the raccoons going to town on the food. Oops.</div><div><br /></div><div>All of us, including Ryan and Chad, got some breakfast at Waffle House - a proper southern send-off - in Brevard before going our separate ways. The drive home wasn't too bad, although Stick might've grown tired of my classic rock by the time we got home.</div><div><br /></div><div>All in all, it was another successful weekend of camping and riding. I felt great the whole race, but because I was trying to be smart about my knee, I didn't go quite as hard as I usually do (like at Marji), so there's more meat on the bone time-wise for sure. It'll give me some good motivation for next year.</div><div><br /></div><div>This was my last big race of the year, so I was especially happy to end on a high note. Dahn won this race many years ago (he's old), so I was also glad to join him among the ranks of past winners in the only category that matters: singlespeed. The only thing missing from the weekend was Dicky, but I don't think he was quite ready for Pisgah after his mishap at the Horny Cat 69. If you're wondering what that is, go check it out on his blergh.</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, until next time. I'm gonna do some sort of end-of-season wrap up post, along with some other pretty neat things coming up, but you'll have to wait to see what that is.</div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj64yTk1P6SgYYazLdoStucyPIw3G9vhCQ5XXfiCJJdaQccAdMw1ssSGPml2p4VjNRavtnLKKHxvdCFme9Esx6FJtuf7g_lGbXElrhaGYEtiaVPIb6Jw6JXXJfGYDK-etIarHrMNq9pSS4HnnQ5R7lUrVxln2ZQ7FrC1h48Dz96NMJuDnWsfbGdDdi6joo/s4032/IMG_9283.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj64yTk1P6SgYYazLdoStucyPIw3G9vhCQ5XXfiCJJdaQccAdMw1ssSGPml2p4VjNRavtnLKKHxvdCFme9Esx6FJtuf7g_lGbXElrhaGYEtiaVPIb6Jw6JXXJfGYDK-etIarHrMNq9pSS4HnnQ5R7lUrVxln2ZQ7FrC1h48Dz96NMJuDnWsfbGdDdi6joo/s320/IMG_9283.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stick in his cocoon</td></tr></tbody></table>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-42050527797541141772023-09-25T07:21:00.000-04:002023-09-25T07:21:56.648-04:00Let's talk about buttered sausage<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">What do you do the week after Marji Gesick? Besides talking about buttered sausage, where it comes from, what it does, and why it's doing what it's doing, of course. If you don't know what I'm talking about, it means you're behind on what the "kids" are talking about nowadays, and you probably need to look up "Gary Busey buttered sausage".</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTnNd2nSO2mavzsIFXWf4HaVBNg4TiRNu-6IXcdQKOH5mOgvLsiTfTb9BPSqygrZOaSWblnbb_HEhiYVLAfKP48U8WFDrdPUhKYZ1WnsrNxZyf2jtpb8LwiYQU1S7CI6Y9-jA6BQotruffyBKYGiNbIBVe7vsjWQn1VcxlgI6098LA_CrgguB9v-S8nM/s1920/buttered_sausage.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1075" data-original-width="1920" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTnNd2nSO2mavzsIFXWf4HaVBNg4TiRNu-6IXcdQKOH5mOgvLsiTfTb9BPSqygrZOaSWblnbb_HEhiYVLAfKP48U8WFDrdPUhKYZ1WnsrNxZyf2jtpb8LwiYQU1S7CI6Y9-jA6BQotruffyBKYGiNbIBVe7vsjWQn1VcxlgI6098LA_CrgguB9v-S8nM/w368-h206/buttered_sausage.jpg" width="368" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But first, please, if you do nothing else today, scroll down and take a look at the elegant gallery of Simon. After reading the rest of the blergh, <i>of course</i>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Ok, on we go. I had a lot of bike work to do after Marji Gesick, some of which was getting to use a q-tip for yet another unintended purpose. I mean, seriously, has anyone ever actually used a q-tip for what they're supposed to be used for?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A q-tip and isopropyl alcohol is a great way to clean sticky brake pistons. Push the pistons out as far as is reasonable, wipe 'em down with the alcohol-soaked q-tip (that sounds like an insult), and push 'em back in. Normally, hopefully, sometimes, they're good as new. Or at least better than they were. In my case, I got them pretty darn good; at least enough so that I won't just wear out one brake pad and not the other.</div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtzlgPZW-Fdn-pwiOrFrKwYWz1KA8dgBjJAMH-YV2Y1DL6kvg54I3fTbDc0AVJDWVetvTyzvN-pgbrDbwzq2eRrJnJOXZNG2dKXcqkfZ-AjxxKNA4xuVGeT94rDy6iHkSrrZ7_lDYA1TY7mhX3BzgeeP-dTW1uxiW2ZObu8DWDQO8VGi6y4syY6f-hn50/s4032/IMG_8949.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtzlgPZW-Fdn-pwiOrFrKwYWz1KA8dgBjJAMH-YV2Y1DL6kvg54I3fTbDc0AVJDWVetvTyzvN-pgbrDbwzq2eRrJnJOXZNG2dKXcqkfZ-AjxxKNA4xuVGeT94rDy6iHkSrrZ7_lDYA1TY7mhX3BzgeeP-dTW1uxiW2ZObu8DWDQO8VGi6y4syY6f-hn50/s320/IMG_8949.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The SRAM G2 brakes have been solid, but even good brakes need love.</td></tr></tbody></table><span></span><div><br /></div><div>This week was actually pretty busy for me, because I started going into Quaker Valley to shadow a teacher as part of my teaching certification program. It's actually pretty cool, because I get to shadow my favorite teacher who taught me math for two years in high school. Between going into Quaker Valley and attending classes at Geneva, my days have been full of school. Still, though, I made the time to get as much riding in as I wanted to this week.</div><div><br /></div><div>Several days this week I actually stayed out longer than planned on my rides because I was just having so much fun despite my legs being a little tired. It was definitely worth it; the Sewickley trails have been riding super nice recently.</div><div><br /></div><div>On Friday I got together with the Goat Wrangler, and before I left his place, he gave me one of his bikes and a few parts so I could sell them for him, in exchange for a commission. He's too busy building a new patio for himself to sell his own bike, and lets he honest, the Goat Wrangler isn't exactly an expert in bike specifications. I think you read this blergh sometimes, Will, and I think you know I know you know I'm right.</div><div><br /></div><div>So... does anyone want a 2019 S-Works Epic full suspension? Or an almost new Royal Control SL boost rear wheel? Or what about a recently serviced Specialized brain shock? A carbon S-Works stem and handlebar, anyone? Like I said, I get a commission, so you'd be supporting a Hamburger.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwVQ8ydachGSvlmD7RGveXjkWhbGsYG77c0PhfwOukGnM5H8Jj-svMPYzYIVAhpjX53IKE3mY5kg5tQma5t0NXzkGK5wrkaZfFEh9ansGcZokQzFeoC2n4ivuk8wNJsFUMewAudLccD8cPjduT5FOGjmIUmhkmwOQhgLRtpXIMyi36UN30MWl-4kUq5Rw/s2023/IMG_9071.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2023" data-original-width="1170" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwVQ8ydachGSvlmD7RGveXjkWhbGsYG77c0PhfwOukGnM5H8Jj-svMPYzYIVAhpjX53IKE3mY5kg5tQma5t0NXzkGK5wrkaZfFEh9ansGcZokQzFeoC2n4ivuk8wNJsFUMewAudLccD8cPjduT5FOGjmIUmhkmwOQhgLRtpXIMyi36UN30MWl-4kUq5Rw/s320/IMG_9071.jpg" width="185" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A great road somewhat close to the land of Thad</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>It took a while for me to figure out what ride to do Saturday, but after a lot of back and forth with a few people, I plotted a 75 mile gravel route from Bavington to do with Rege. Between kids baseball games, work, and other adult things, no one else could join me and Rege.<div><br /></div><div>The ride itself with Rege was great. Starting from Bavington - maybe 40 minutes west of downtown Pittsburgh - we quickly get into some of my favorite roads. The last time I did these roads was back in February, and this time around was a lot more pleasant in terms of weather. Instead of mud and 25 degree temps, the worst Rege and I faced was a light mist at the end.</div><div><br /></div><div>Among many great roads on the ride, the best name was without a doubt "Shades of Death Road" near Avella. I swear, that's a real road name. Sadly, all of the signs have been stolen, but you can look it up on Google Maps and see that, yes, that's the actual name. </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqO3RZU8y6I98ZwinHBqlGQG9oLuSa0WHLEI7m-1QqeoPnV0F0IkpQSzoDkJHKrT0HDNH_zY-FRf3JaQ5X4sZ3-gyHa2a3LZX3YplAELsiVSd9z9i7bfQypYFMwqAbANjOipa4HIncj_Zr8brOmOIRtEcbcAguDw08bjv1l1OOAxtTBQNWBsVPKw1HSME/s4032/IMG_9043.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqO3RZU8y6I98ZwinHBqlGQG9oLuSa0WHLEI7m-1QqeoPnV0F0IkpQSzoDkJHKrT0HDNH_zY-FRf3JaQ5X4sZ3-gyHa2a3LZX3YplAELsiVSd9z9i7bfQypYFMwqAbANjOipa4HIncj_Zr8brOmOIRtEcbcAguDw08bjv1l1OOAxtTBQNWBsVPKw1HSME/w207-h276/IMG_9043.HEIC" width="207" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgso-TIeKWx0ygeJo0TQo44JsQgLq5XWU6KtmyQ43syuVTue0XSXAvINuFdrt966zayPhVchYdw2vGnwllFdbD4LbyPwFc2zvkAzogF0l1UVHVY6uxZur6Psp208-0AQcts1R7ux3oJsjgyTO0ho_z5MtkqaVSdfSC21QgMv2dIq3s0FJlRldggRlJpLuE/s4032/IMG_5021.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgso-TIeKWx0ygeJo0TQo44JsQgLq5XWU6KtmyQ43syuVTue0XSXAvINuFdrt966zayPhVchYdw2vGnwllFdbD4LbyPwFc2zvkAzogF0l1UVHVY6uxZur6Psp208-0AQcts1R7ux3oJsjgyTO0ho_z5MtkqaVSdfSC21QgMv2dIq3s0FJlRldggRlJpLuE/w209-h278/IMG_5021.HEIC" width="209" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiR6wzDtYqeHS22sQ0uJBWQPK4mXO4gVED9oBabml0F-t2wLoKxsSRV5gKlevnXUZTRzhK-iuzeDlpH5KXrB2UVx-3-uMePTq1YNVnubB1WexWpJXvn9HPciwX6Ux0Jcw8I3cORjQOE6bw3WlaO-WFG1KTGTy6yNTT42kg9lC7tsGLUoet557ohTIvOD8/s2045/IMG_9076.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2045" data-original-width="1170" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiR6wzDtYqeHS22sQ0uJBWQPK4mXO4gVED9oBabml0F-t2wLoKxsSRV5gKlevnXUZTRzhK-iuzeDlpH5KXrB2UVx-3-uMePTq1YNVnubB1WexWpJXvn9HPciwX6Ux0Jcw8I3cORjQOE6bw3WlaO-WFG1KTGTy6yNTT42kg9lC7tsGLUoet557ohTIvOD8/w153-h267/IMG_9076.jpg" width="153" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Another thing of note on the ride is the absence of the bridge across Raccoon Creek. Going back to 2020 (the picture of the still-intact bridge), I've always loved riding across that old rickety bridge. The combination of the ghost road leading to it, the piles of dirt you had to weave around to enter the bridge, and the apocalyptic nature of the bridge itself made it one of my favorite parts of any ride. I guess it must've been getting unsafe, because the township took it out.</div><div><br /></div><div>Despite the fact that I sort of already knew the bridge was gone (thanks to Dave J.), I still made Rege hike over downed trees 73 miles into a ride to go look at it. Sorry Rege, haha. Although, as I told Rege, my motto is that it isn't a ride if there isn't hike-a-bike involved. All in all, it was 77 miles and 9,500 feet of climbing.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMU0vArOWzHvMkYjE6rjnUxTXtWnMoric0S70u876ext8NF_cdDoOqoRn4bExpJUG_UiLL6lYr0mHgDajKY7ST77Cfyexm51nY0uWDsaiUrYlCqTSFJlXJVJzQE6-ebScLQ3aeXXy4nlXBnmNI9I0LubYFhqOWxhlQiyBnVBDcXQJFK_x4O2j1-cej18/s4032/IMG_9056.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMU0vArOWzHvMkYjE6rjnUxTXtWnMoric0S70u876ext8NF_cdDoOqoRn4bExpJUG_UiLL6lYr0mHgDajKY7ST77Cfyexm51nY0uWDsaiUrYlCqTSFJlXJVJzQE6-ebScLQ3aeXXy4nlXBnmNI9I0LubYFhqOWxhlQiyBnVBDcXQJFK_x4O2j1-cej18/s320/IMG_9056.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCwqEEDZ8FzsdIYHbfcEX8Ak9TiXkz1xqHS5jmc3znUvHenjV02EiQ912vO2ywh-i8BDWVsqT5b16-iNCgqC7RUf8q78-rHXtEX2gAAFIGPP_2MB-25Zd3cYUQiyV_CKgKEo4MbRNS8nxaooyZGcqVbZVubotmCkkZ7Vf2HJHyb0gdjy2TldRSilr-1qA/s4032/IMG_9059%203.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCwqEEDZ8FzsdIYHbfcEX8Ak9TiXkz1xqHS5jmc3znUvHenjV02EiQ912vO2ywh-i8BDWVsqT5b16-iNCgqC7RUf8q78-rHXtEX2gAAFIGPP_2MB-25Zd3cYUQiyV_CKgKEo4MbRNS8nxaooyZGcqVbZVubotmCkkZ7Vf2HJHyb0gdjy2TldRSilr-1qA/s320/IMG_9059%203.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">While the weather turned out to be nice on Saturday, there was no such luck for Sunday. After raining most of the previous evening and night, I woke up Sunday morning to even more rain. Luckily, it was only light rain, but still, I was worried about the trails.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I talked to Jesu and he decided to get a rain check for his Sewickley guided tour, so I reached out to Simon to try and convince him to drive over and ride with me and Zach. Sure enough, after sending Simon a picture of dry dusty dirt under a pine tree in my yard, and assuring him the trails would be good, he agreed to come over and ride.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The rain didn't stop before we left, and actually, it ended up raining for most of the ride. Fortunately, it was only ever light rain, and the temps were such that we were never cold. The trails were muddy at points, but as I had expected, they were mostly just greasy. Don't get me wrong, we got covered in mud and it was wet the whole time, but the amount of actual mud bogs wasn't too bad. We even saw my parents and uncle out riding in the Sewickley Heights Park, so we rode with them to Big Boulder Trail and talked for a bit.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We ended up with almost 3 1/2 hours of riding (moving time, that is) and 33 miles of mostly singletrack. It was great, and despite the mud, I think Simon was glad he came.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_4vAfbsZluRzUlSJq92lZQsfTv8QIhEQwEWilbjGDlampGJlPhy-GUkLc-uI1C017eeXUVW82yevk32wPOk-GF53IWrARYfLfDh_l2lx9c-uNnOWEW0YB3nXbxWd-iPGRth1SKboETr3me-eAn9EwsTTk-FV4i4msltpRn6L_-ck89T1LEvI33hB-YxM/s4032/IMG_9063.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_4vAfbsZluRzUlSJq92lZQsfTv8QIhEQwEWilbjGDlampGJlPhy-GUkLc-uI1C017eeXUVW82yevk32wPOk-GF53IWrARYfLfDh_l2lx9c-uNnOWEW0YB3nXbxWd-iPGRth1SKboETr3me-eAn9EwsTTk-FV4i4msltpRn6L_-ck89T1LEvI33hB-YxM/s320/IMG_9063.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmShDxNmnO5U0dONJLsh1LjKHeatGqlWB_W6-On1zXRSWXo9RVYQ4gnxb0lVzUDk0ctGB39wHBLt3rZcrh6HVyij3x3_L0ui6u8EwahvfZCCO714ej9ul2Q1rzV9RkHFKclg2Du4S3A05dgR_FRHZzyHIKNMyqJgc7sFNBs6ur8gqXpHv66xiz4qIGTFI/s4032/IMG_9064.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmShDxNmnO5U0dONJLsh1LjKHeatGqlWB_W6-On1zXRSWXo9RVYQ4gnxb0lVzUDk0ctGB39wHBLt3rZcrh6HVyij3x3_L0ui6u8EwahvfZCCO714ej9ul2Q1rzV9RkHFKclg2Du4S3A05dgR_FRHZzyHIKNMyqJgc7sFNBs6ur8gqXpHv66xiz4qIGTFI/s320/IMG_9064.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Alright, now for the part everyone has been waiting for: the gallery of Simon. Take a look at him doling out the punishment to a couple of elderly women. Never mind that these are masterful photoshops; damnit, I want to believe. I mean, come on, if Simon can be the 2023 NUE singlespeed marathon series champion, surely he can outdrink a couple of grandma's, right?</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4ak4mINSGvzeIZ5itxlmrTMHfs0PXbTL_pzUwmcGhwp3Ys-YKEQPVaG8GM8TscW2oUM1G0lBC1KhCrIe96BgmMoXq5QKnMzUhf--MvqPXpambmPnJXXSPQ3PBVi2g1CKUn335nD7A5lupUcPsubRVs5RULwLHOeUNI66gyMVtbi7swoJqAK-ZlVL54w/s426/image000000%202.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="276" data-original-width="426" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4ak4mINSGvzeIZ5itxlmrTMHfs0PXbTL_pzUwmcGhwp3Ys-YKEQPVaG8GM8TscW2oUM1G0lBC1KhCrIe96BgmMoXq5QKnMzUhf--MvqPXpambmPnJXXSPQ3PBVi2g1CKUn335nD7A5lupUcPsubRVs5RULwLHOeUNI66gyMVtbi7swoJqAK-ZlVL54w/w445-h288/image000000%202.JPG" width="445" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Some of these are so well-photoshopped that it makes you wonder... maybe Simon did have a phase as a crazy cat person, or maybe he did have a few wild and crazy nights with some octogenarians.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But in all non-serious seriousness, these are just too darn good not to share. Remember kids, with enough hard work and dedication, and photoshop skills, you too can go from throwing them back with grandma to winning national bike race series.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBuNC1dlGDrKKJr4t60WqXjIJ1Nba_OpkE9mJHiwbT-HP2d-NgW7-iJpAA2kqBGA0ZfIFkyT2MxZZiJHpjeVCcqi1igXhSvs60ydpP7evpjt42iPB5cLCpmi1CW-yfQL_cMKr4s1RjXdfFaHChMpDTHKUgomBN6yCUMZpv-aJ_oM6wKD5AOCpFb7uw7lE/s1078/image000000%203.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="802" data-original-width="1078" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBuNC1dlGDrKKJr4t60WqXjIJ1Nba_OpkE9mJHiwbT-HP2d-NgW7-iJpAA2kqBGA0ZfIFkyT2MxZZiJHpjeVCcqi1igXhSvs60ydpP7evpjt42iPB5cLCpmi1CW-yfQL_cMKr4s1RjXdfFaHChMpDTHKUgomBN6yCUMZpv-aJ_oM6wKD5AOCpFb7uw7lE/s320/image000000%203.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTJ0k3soAw4JWXvlQWVi4xV0Elm6lvQ3_Mk1ac-6huW1kaP8D6CD0hvdySnkTjTtbDBmmTq9A6RoZsdCDcDkNzHUt4bMrBW60q4QOiQHY-cbdHrafaZEYrmvG-ZYi6qTJdl6-OG2ElVOSDShsEkYVc0fxZMjU-1HZLPpHf2IGnEJqDBAikFE4SQok_D0Y/s1592/image000001.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1592" data-original-width="1079" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTJ0k3soAw4JWXvlQWVi4xV0Elm6lvQ3_Mk1ac-6huW1kaP8D6CD0hvdySnkTjTtbDBmmTq9A6RoZsdCDcDkNzHUt4bMrBW60q4QOiQHY-cbdHrafaZEYrmvG-ZYi6qTJdl6-OG2ElVOSDShsEkYVc0fxZMjU-1HZLPpHf2IGnEJqDBAikFE4SQok_D0Y/s320/image000001.JPG" width="217" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-80607663690299698982023-09-20T07:32:00.005-04:002023-09-20T11:54:54.052-04:00Marji Gesick 2023: The Buckle EditionI went into the Marji Gesick 100 this year with one goal: get the belt buckle. In order to get the belt buckle, I'd have to finish the race in under 12 hours; a difficult feat on the challenging course. Usually, only 10 or 12 people out of more than 500 racers get the buckle. It's a long race. Lots of people take over 20 hours to finish, and lots of people don't finish at all.<div><br /></div><div>The last singlespeeder to get the buckle was Justin Holle, back in 2021. I was just coming off of a 2nd place finish to Justin at Breck Epic, so I was interested to see how I would compare to his time at Marji Gesick. All of this is just to highlight the fact that it was far from a sure thing to get the buckle. I thought I had the fitness, but at the same time, I really didn't have anything to base that off of. Last year, I missed the buckle by 40 minutes, albeit on a slippery wet course. </div><div><br /></div><div>Going into Marji this year, my motto was "buckle or bust". I knew the time splits I had to make, so I was going to push as hard as I needed to make those splits, and if I blew up, I'd just crawl to the finish line with disappointment.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbgeF-nnr-KrZ5X0UUGk6UBRjChguYsXAEkT7LT67Hi_isF7deIPMpRen4NIN6L2zE2S6hOATpIfwf9U1cQnUWedFj0Gc6rNCuAgUIOrceN6U6fXeBCQtZi0WQIOhYqnfXNG-UC6cTBPdToENKphaTgyhIJcMHc7eK4p6KH8QY5GGFLxcY5Ms-m-gsFfM/s2048/IMG_8866.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbgeF-nnr-KrZ5X0UUGk6UBRjChguYsXAEkT7LT67Hi_isF7deIPMpRen4NIN6L2zE2S6hOATpIfwf9U1cQnUWedFj0Gc6rNCuAgUIOrceN6U6fXeBCQtZi0WQIOhYqnfXNG-UC6cTBPdToENKphaTgyhIJcMHc7eK4p6KH8QY5GGFLxcY5Ms-m-gsFfM/s320/IMG_8866.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The buckle class of 2023</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div>This year, the Marji story started with driving up to Marquette with Simon. We left Thursday in the early evening, and drove about halfway before getting a hotel with Jim and Anthony just north of Flint, Michigan. The next morning we drove the remaining five hours to Marquette and started getting for the race.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPIxWhtZrXgtAYfXAUfq6mkyTT9PLgDiAxcrkBd0lJkMcv4GgDy4NdUN3RxnjfEiTamnkBHuheESLdt6-jlPlM2m6xYaqdrAVXX1aDujg4wO9ig1YOjP8p721130n6pD1VrpSqOlByPXcM3XF_i5mL29wQytx6iubKJ6Y4pY7c3l4-zgn8C4fJ8kpH0iY/s4032/IMG_8787.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPIxWhtZrXgtAYfXAUfq6mkyTT9PLgDiAxcrkBd0lJkMcv4GgDy4NdUN3RxnjfEiTamnkBHuheESLdt6-jlPlM2m6xYaqdrAVXX1aDujg4wO9ig1YOjP8p721130n6pD1VrpSqOlByPXcM3XF_i5mL29wQytx6iubKJ6Y4pY7c3l4-zgn8C4fJ8kpH0iY/w177-h236/IMG_8787.HEIC" width="177" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHsySLzn6Sj9rc2_95neyKo4veiP1snvDrQvBCivi0K9Z4Ked3d9GVj9ydLa8BvixS2m1Ou9CuuF7dc2266u77QraMafi91JInarI6PlQyog1nOemjzTuwZ1Esjfu6g0y1kzcEYW_wQtlJxlviK84Do_x61qs453FZzvD5r1pfVOGRwsf8PfKa_WpsKcQ/s4032/IMG_8789.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHsySLzn6Sj9rc2_95neyKo4veiP1snvDrQvBCivi0K9Z4Ked3d9GVj9ydLa8BvixS2m1Ou9CuuF7dc2266u77QraMafi91JInarI6PlQyog1nOemjzTuwZ1Esjfu6g0y1kzcEYW_wQtlJxlviK84Do_x61qs453FZzvD5r1pfVOGRwsf8PfKa_WpsKcQ/w175-h233/IMG_8789.HEIC" width="175" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIQz-8LUv2_wajfoDkuM4Fs5Mh1zOzjgZ4VTLHd7z2bV5JMQn079PMSWGrffTFf6lvyWcdV9BwIINEruWUZFXEnj1y83ZumAiJfLFJ67R7O9TQcRxNQJF7b0poVdXTDLMX6GeLLU1QecKcv9v1DpPD8W7pacFtCY-JzbwoIc9aroaJHVGkphZVEiOF_I/s4032/IMG_8811.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIQz-8LUv2_wajfoDkuM4Fs5Mh1zOzjgZ4VTLHd7z2bV5JMQn079PMSWGrffTFf6lvyWcdV9BwIINEruWUZFXEnj1y83ZumAiJfLFJ67R7O9TQcRxNQJF7b0poVdXTDLMX6GeLLU1QecKcv9v1DpPD8W7pacFtCY-JzbwoIc9aroaJHVGkphZVEiOF_I/w175-h234/IMG_8811.HEIC" width="175" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>The four of us - me, Simon, Jim, and Anthony - drove to Ishpeming to do a pre-ride. The race starts in Marquette, but it finishes in Ishpeming (25 minutes away by car), so pre-riding in Ishpeming also let us drop a car off. I actually remembered some of the trails we rode from last year, and it was much more rideable than I remember. I suppose it's maybe because in the race, the trail is 10 hours in, but still, it was a confidence booster.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguvRi9v2Hr85_d-bnA4zgVHfoHuZpKfPFIBd2ZWFnNsvQbqCuEAWY0w0BcWG0D95FeZEk75f0WHhLM9R4DFq5ZYqVOOqiiIwVBDIJRjGlCCFXd3adZWLpc4-Xva3vRHFIn49_vBGnDr7Xif_B3jAtK3BcreyDDWhPElBoy-kVDeWkYl5by9ZywGKqQH1w/s4032/IMG_8825.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguvRi9v2Hr85_d-bnA4zgVHfoHuZpKfPFIBd2ZWFnNsvQbqCuEAWY0w0BcWG0D95FeZEk75f0WHhLM9R4DFq5ZYqVOOqiiIwVBDIJRjGlCCFXd3adZWLpc4-Xva3vRHFIn49_vBGnDr7Xif_B3jAtK3BcreyDDWhPElBoy-kVDeWkYl5by9ZywGKqQH1w/s320/IMG_8825.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCzgxe16usUjS4CXKAnCCS1dUMwP2H7BotDOEeljhExJF1iDnLzJ4D3eNJXVJ16zBDaut3Rif0yfCAiO_QXqgkAbh92TQgGy_3uLbV3IXqfVxWsQFPFl1TQrpyjmvZgqZ9BQh-OOkVHjIrBIGaoPnt13HsG_3nAVzSf7V4d_JrWaSF3GSp7Fnvh_1PlP4/s4032/IMG_8831.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCzgxe16usUjS4CXKAnCCS1dUMwP2H7BotDOEeljhExJF1iDnLzJ4D3eNJXVJ16zBDaut3Rif0yfCAiO_QXqgkAbh92TQgGy_3uLbV3IXqfVxWsQFPFl1TQrpyjmvZgqZ9BQh-OOkVHjIrBIGaoPnt13HsG_3nAVzSf7V4d_JrWaSF3GSp7Fnvh_1PlP4/s320/IMG_8831.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>After the ride, we went back to the AirBNB, got cleaned up, mixed our bottles, and went out for packet pickup and dinner. The AirBNB was a huge room in the upstairs of a hotel, complete with a full kitchen, washer and dryer, and huge bathroom. It was pretty slick, thanks Anthony!</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZxk8UfKvZFiTG_gbIMXBfDaQUjQsy3IjlniHHupd5h0AclJDxSSiPzQDXmGIMLZF5J0rA7zE5R65vTTGwfeZCanY-CmfNR_dYYVf3Hp0R5mdVgu2IkHX1zqg0yl-hTVt9wgmkfA_XJiW9mSAc4HV3stSkvzhmbJx_yWDWG9s5HEKzA9svPVqGdrw3Po/s4032/IMG_8841.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZxk8UfKvZFiTG_gbIMXBfDaQUjQsy3IjlniHHupd5h0AclJDxSSiPzQDXmGIMLZF5J0rA7zE5R65vTTGwfeZCanY-CmfNR_dYYVf3Hp0R5mdVgu2IkHX1zqg0yl-hTVt9wgmkfA_XJiW9mSAc4HV3stSkvzhmbJx_yWDWG9s5HEKzA9svPVqGdrw3Po/s320/IMG_8841.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>The check-in line was ridiculously long, and Simon took over a half hour to get his packet. The next task was to search for dinner, also a difficult feat because it was homecoming weekend in Marquette. Every restaurant had a long wait, so we drove to a Mexican place just outside of downtown. It still had a long wait, but we got in to a table of four when Tanya and Clay split up to get their own table of two. It wasn't ideal, but it was now getting later so we took what we could get. I polished off some delicious steak fajitas, and then we went back to the AirBNB to get ready for bed.</div><div><br /></div><div>I think we all got to bed before 9:15 PM, but not before some funny antics. Jim hopped into bed with Simon, which set us all off laughing. Once the laughing ran out, we turned off the lights and I crawled up to my top bunk above Jim.</div><div><br /></div><div>The alarm was set for 5:30 AM, but I woke up on my own around 5:15 AM. I won't say I was extremely nervous, but I definitely had a few nerves. No matter how you slice it, it was going to be a long, long, long day of hard racing. Plus, chasing the buckle gave me all the more reason to be nervous. I had my usual combination of coffee, Pedialyte, water, and Nutella bagels, and then Jim and I loaded up our bikes and drove 15 minutes to the race start. The 100 mile race starts in Forestville, just outside of Marquette, whereas the 50 miler starts in Marquette itself.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHIw1OGQEW7jQx3pE2eKfO0S55xP6WJA4nU2KU2oG1lmhQ0aEfW651xFXOMnbqAtB8H6tDFiVJ615OVIzk24ywDtXbwxffkhxOilpzlrhxRUIz2WzcTudQsdz28HMS1B4IcgvY8eVE8JS9aCrqo3J_vLTVmN_iIa2mECLoC2SYR1bWlu426NrfZwlTqgE/s4032/IMG_8846.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHIw1OGQEW7jQx3pE2eKfO0S55xP6WJA4nU2KU2oG1lmhQ0aEfW651xFXOMnbqAtB8H6tDFiVJ615OVIzk24ywDtXbwxffkhxOilpzlrhxRUIz2WzcTudQsdz28HMS1B4IcgvY8eVE8JS9aCrqo3J_vLTVmN_iIa2mECLoC2SYR1bWlu426NrfZwlTqgE/s320/IMG_8846.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgRuEBY7981rjmvRkYplEGvCA5zcneEvZI3iVMwAd0UTowp2QB0wGiXyXJnRRGd9v83ZbIdE2Bfmq3ZIb0PwbBOXcgQ3FTvO_38svAk82FmUTZ94Xpk63OF7TdEImZ4NOymECUckszvOLBqqgh8CJQReIx4TrYMgTnpAqkHRrZYl9rfuUiKuF6oQcgfAU/s4032/IMG_8847.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgRuEBY7981rjmvRkYplEGvCA5zcneEvZI3iVMwAd0UTowp2QB0wGiXyXJnRRGd9v83ZbIdE2Bfmq3ZIb0PwbBOXcgQ3FTvO_38svAk82FmUTZ94Xpk63OF7TdEImZ4NOymECUckszvOLBqqgh8CJQReIx4TrYMgTnpAqkHRrZYl9rfuUiKuF6oQcgfAU/s320/IMG_8847.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>At the race start venue, Jim and I dropped off our drop bags and then got ready for the start. It was a Le Mans start, more common in 24 hour races (which I've done a couple of), and involves a roughly half-mile run from the start line to your bike that you lay in a field.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinR4MUTkfMnrJEVUIjegh0tdldHTpfPGuJ6GqajXnLkM9DJXgoAlmOqdIiV9pwkuiPGH3rYTiPhkWSTslwvrFALLrRHdJZj9Cy6InBQlV2p_7eUsAinLnn0di3pn8HDaaS9drUl9x2VAGmM3AyHQahGqLHQi_U9BC2yed9mwazD4KNA8EQ2dzkj43P7_8/s4032/IMG_8850.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinR4MUTkfMnrJEVUIjegh0tdldHTpfPGuJ6GqajXnLkM9DJXgoAlmOqdIiV9pwkuiPGH3rYTiPhkWSTslwvrFALLrRHdJZj9Cy6InBQlV2p_7eUsAinLnn0di3pn8HDaaS9drUl9x2VAGmM3AyHQahGqLHQi_U9BC2yed9mwazD4KNA8EQ2dzkj43P7_8/s320/IMG_8850.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizQDCZd9gOO_wr0IbOnJhSU7UpMqUY145imYpOdoaFZDFN5OPAM48l_fT6vY4oTs8sk-X5BYsAh3ql6uBGqSiLCWVnEsngNpCHf_oYXn3XGcIy441gwoYkQ3hnZ0wl1PEEV1fT9zy-ne8764t4yH8kAex48wZdU7ZmCkdmjOgstOM627DhoRP5JeT9hOg/s3088/IMG_8851.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizQDCZd9gOO_wr0IbOnJhSU7UpMqUY145imYpOdoaFZDFN5OPAM48l_fT6vY4oTs8sk-X5BYsAh3ql6uBGqSiLCWVnEsngNpCHf_oYXn3XGcIy441gwoYkQ3hnZ0wl1PEEV1fT9zy-ne8764t4yH8kAex48wZdU7ZmCkdmjOgstOM627DhoRP5JeT9hOg/s320/IMG_8851.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>I lined up in the second row next to Jim, and we took off our helmets as we listened to the national anthem played live on an electric guitar. With guys dressed as devils, a few bonfires, and loud music, they certainly know how to fire you up before a race. Finally, Todd Poquette, the race director, counted us down to 7:30:00 AM and we set off on the run. Jim and I ran hard from the gun and eventually found ourselves at the front part of the run, alongside Mark Kransz. We were among the first 10 people to get to our bikes and cross the timing checkpoint mat.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jim and I both had agreed on a pretty simple idea: don't go too hard at the start. We let a bunch of people sneak by us early on, betting that they'd blow up and our steady pace would earn us the buckle. Of course, the very start of the race still required some hard efforts, but we calmed it down as soon as possible. The first difficult section is called the "Top of the World" climb: a large rock feature with a technical downhill section off the back. Surprisingly, I cleaned the short, steep climb to the top and made it down the backside until I ran into a fellow singlespeeder at the very bottom who put a foot down in front of me. No worries. Jim, not having a dropper post, took a slightly more careful approach but quickly caught back up to me.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next miles presented several technical rock sections, each of which Jim and I smoothly cruised through. We were able to put a gap on some riders behind us, and I felt we were riding great. We eventually let some people get by us on the climbs, confident in our strategy. Occasionally, Jim and I would ask each other what we thought about the pace and re-evaluated based on how it felt. We finally hit our first checkpoint in 1h:31m, three minutes faster than the 1h:34m goal written on our arms in sharpie. Last year, I had done that same stretch in 1h:34m, but it felt substantially easier this year. Plus, it was the same as Justin Holle's 1h:34m, and I was using his buckle ride from a couple years as my pacing guide.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jim and continued to have a great time riding together. It was so fun to be able to ride with him, and since both of us had the goal of a buckle, we were equally focused. Jim is a fantastic rider, and even without a dropper post, he flows through the trails faster than almost anyone I've ridden with.</div><div><br /></div><div>Before long, we reached a mini aid station of sorts, and then started back into the woods on a singletrack climb. This is where things went off plan.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jim and I stopped for a quick bathroom break in the woods, and since I anticipated hike-a-bike coming, I hopped on my bike and started riding again just before Jim got back on his bike. I soon looked back and saw Jim coming, so I knew he was rolling again. We hit a really technical rock section where a photographer was, and suddenly I didn't see Jim behind me. Now, trust me when I tell you, Jim is a better bike handler than I am, so it's not like the rocks would slow him down at all. But, nonetheless, he was no longer behind me. Maybe he had a mechanical? Maybe he crashed? I had no idea. However, I didn't really have time to stop and wait, so I pushed on by myself.</div><div><br /></div><div>Soon enough, Brian Fuhrmanm caught me in the trails after a super steep gravel road (which I stubbornly cleaned with my 32x19 gearing). I asked him if he saw my teammate, Jim, and he said no. Maybe Jim got lost and took a wrong turn. I hope not, but there was nothing I could do. Brian got by me, and before long, another rider passed me. There was a long climb up from a creek, and it was there that I started feeling really good again.</div><div><br /></div><div>I ended up passing two riders on that climb, and closed the gap slightly on Brian. But nonetheless, Brian stayed out ahead of me. The next part of the course included a road crossing, which I had marked down as checkpoint number two on my arm. I needed to cross the road by 12:58 PM to be on pace, and sure enough, I crossed the road at 12:50 PM: eight minutes ahead of pace.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was happy, and I was riding with Ryan Bennett now, so having fast company made me even happier. Ryan is from Colorado and is actually a teammate of Justin, and I've raced him a couple other times at other races. We rode together for a while and I eventually put a small gap on him on some twisty, flat trails. Sure enough, though, he stayed close behind and caught me once we got onto a flat gravel road.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next part of the course was a long flat stretch of gravel and pavement, leading to Jackson Park for the formal first aid station. Since Ryan was on gears, I knew I had to stick to his wheel and draft him to save time, no matter how bad it hurt. Ryan was cranking at nearly 20mph, but I managed to hold onto his wheel for two miles of paved rail trail until we caught another group of riders and chilled down the pace. Frankly, I was glad the pace chilled down and I doubt I could've held that 20mph pace for the rest of the way.</div><div><br /></div><div>At Jackson Park for the first aid station stop, speed was the key word. I wanted to get there by 1:45 PM, but I wasn't there until closer to 2:00 PM. It wasn't ideal, but my time split was on the fast-end of buckle pace so I knew I was still doing well enough. I switched my bottles and re-filled my USWE hydration pack as quickly as possible, and spent no time eating food at the stop. Compared to last year, I was feeling exponentially better and I spent far less time at the aid station.</div><div><br /></div><div>Leaving Jackson Park, I at least knew the kind of suffering that lie ahead. It was slow. It was twisty. It was hike-a-bike. It was Marji Gesick. I can't remember exactly how, but somehow I ended up riding behind Brian Fuhrmann just after getting into the trails. After the gap between Brian and I opened and closed a few times, I sort of settled in behind him and used him to pace myself. I knew he had got the buckle before, so I thought he had a good idea of how hard to go.</div><div><br /></div><div>We didn't talk that much - we were both going hard - but he was a really nice guy and an excellent bike handler. He was taking all the downhills super fast, but I was able to at least stay close enough behind that I caught up on the climbs. Just over 2h 40m after leaving Jackson Park the first time, Brian and I rolled back into Jackson Park for the second time. The whole time, I had been carefully tracking the time on my Garmin. I needed to roll into Jackson Park by 4:30 PM the second time, and after what seemed like never ending miles of up-and-down trails, I got into Jackson Park by 4:32 PM. </div><div><br /></div><div>Those last few miles before Jackson Park were hard. Really hard. I was pushing hard, too, maybe harder than I should have, but I knew I had no choice if I wanted the buckle. Being on a singlespeed, I had to get off and run quite a few uphill sections, which only added to the suffering. I can distinctly remember pushing my bike up steep hills, my left hand and forearm leaning on the saddle and my right arm directing the handlebars as I pushed forward. It felt like I was going to blow up, but I trusted myself and my fitness and kept going.</div><div><br /></div><div>So now it was 4:32 PM and I was at Jackson Park for the last time. I had half a camelback of water left, so I only switched out my bottles and shoved a honey bun in my mouth as I rode away from the aid station. I was fast at the aid station again, making sure not to waste any time. There was now only 17 miles to go, and I had 2 hours and 58 minutes to do it.</div><div><br /></div><div>That sounds easy, but it isn't. Those last 17 miles include over 3,000 feet of climbing and countless hike-a-bike sections. To be honest, though, I was now feeling cautiously optimistic about the prospects of a buckle. This last section took me 2h 40m last year, so I figured as long as I didn't blow up or have a mechanical, I should manage to get the buckle. That right there, though, was the crux: as long as I didn't blow up or get a mechanical. In the back of my head, I was still worried about my time so I wanted to ride as hard as possible to counteract the effect of any possible issue. Plus, I also just wanted to finish as fast as possible.</div><div><br /></div><div>As the miles ticked away, the buckle seemed more and more likely. I never wanted to believe it, but I let myself think about it a couple times. Before long, I was 10 hours in and only had 12 miles to go. Then it was 10.5 hours in with 8 miles left.</div><div><br /></div><div>Eventually, I looked down at my Garmin and it said 2.16 miles left, and it was only 6:45 PM. I had 45 minutes to cover two miles, I knew that even if I flatted, I could literally run my bike to the finish line to get my buckle. Still, it didn't seem like a sure thing quite yet.</div><div><br /></div><div>I had been riding with Brian the whole time, at least for the most part. Occasionally he'd get ahead of me, but I always seemed to end up right behind him again. Periodically, Brian asked what time it was and how many miles we had left, since he was also going for the buckle. This last time when I told him we had 45 minutes to do 2 miles, we both sort of acknowledged we had succeeded.</div><div><br /></div><div>Brian and I flew down the descent to the last climb up to the final token (I'll explain those later), and did a mix of riding and walking up to the token. We grabbed it - a DumDum lollipop - and ripped back down the trail we just came up, before turning off to pavemnent. Next stop, Main Street Ishpeming.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was only a mile to go; Brian and I congratulated each other on the imminent buckle, and I told him I wouldn't try to out-sprint him to the finish, since he had done a lot to help me int terms of drafting and pacing. Plus, to be honest, there was no way I actually had any chance of out-sprinting him anyways.</div><div><br /></div><div>The last mile of pavement and gravel around Ishpeming was a little surreal. Alright, maybe surreal is too strong, but I was a little bit emotional. That also sounds too strong, I mean, it's not like I was crying or anything, but I was very satisfied with how my day went.</div><div><br /></div><div>The finish line came into sight and I spun my legs off following Brian across the line. A genuine smile came across my face when I finished; the timer read 11 hours and 29 minutes: I got the buckle with 31 minutes to spare, and won singlespeed and got 6th overall in the process.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was elated. I really was. I've been fortunate to have had a few good races this year, but the feeling after Marji Gesick was certainly the best of any of them. I think pretty much without exception, it's true that the more nervous you are before something starts, the more satisfying it is when it's done. With Marji, it felt so good to accomplish my goal of getting the belt buckle, and it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I really hope I'm not coming across as melodramatic, but I am really happy to have met my goal. It was hard, really hard. Plus, if you know me, you know I like hyperbole.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now that I had my buckle, it was all about cheering for Jim to finish within the next 31 minutes and also get his buckle. My brother texted me and said that Jim wasn't far behind - only 15 minutes - at the last race checkpoint, so I had a feeling he'd be getting the buckle as well. Sure enough, just 15 minutes after me, Jim came flying across the line to be the second Pittsburgh'er to get the buckle this year.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAt9S4p1k6TnUmf8UvZrwf9fCUtoXOFGogIkWolLnJ78T9xXgrxhql6GcdPms4dez2gzEgdvXG0gyJNUGfMSLHkQTpoAFyYxy7cmhq0KyoFjoV5bl9a6UUeaZZ722LBsUsnXqpocydcUBIc7KcWpAv6c17XqVrohtARHbH3jMeYBNBlRMTMX7EPp-YSsQ/s4032/IMG_0606.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAt9S4p1k6TnUmf8UvZrwf9fCUtoXOFGogIkWolLnJ78T9xXgrxhql6GcdPms4dez2gzEgdvXG0gyJNUGfMSLHkQTpoAFyYxy7cmhq0KyoFjoV5bl9a6UUeaZZ722LBsUsnXqpocydcUBIc7KcWpAv6c17XqVrohtARHbH3jMeYBNBlRMTMX7EPp-YSsQ/s320/IMG_0606.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU_q2n5iGnn_YXZ_KH8l-er8e17exXtrWIi_dyIf3ZeGaJbp7_ZInipmvyPRzL_wIq1nfZ1SVKrjq_drefkgEWUFoHEwfwFZtDg2ODH9Gi9TPH7mEwI4q7kwp_q0rmkgV1Xq0_V_18JxC-XTJO34lyUr54UD5lKkvGdKPU8ybT3huzc37RjVUyi_61jKQ/s4032/IMG_0609.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU_q2n5iGnn_YXZ_KH8l-er8e17exXtrWIi_dyIf3ZeGaJbp7_ZInipmvyPRzL_wIq1nfZ1SVKrjq_drefkgEWUFoHEwfwFZtDg2ODH9Gi9TPH7mEwI4q7kwp_q0rmkgV1Xq0_V_18JxC-XTJO34lyUr54UD5lKkvGdKPU8ybT3huzc37RjVUyi_61jKQ/s320/IMG_0609.JPEG" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>I found out that Jim had a massive flat tire in the rocks and had to go back to aid station - which was thankfully right behind him - to get a new wheel from a bike shop volunteer who was working there. It was almost too good to believe, but the new wheel got him up and running and able to chase the buckle again. I was glad he didn't go off course or crash, because that's what I had feared when I didn't see him behind me anymore. </div><div><br /></div><div>Either way, all that mattered is that Jim and I both succeeded in our goals. Jim had an amazing race and showed once again why he is one of Pittsburgh's finest bike riders. It takes a mix of strength, technical skills, and luck to get the belt buckle, and the stars aligned perfectly this year for both of us.</div><div><br /></div><div>At the finish line were Tanya and Clay, and also Simon and Anthony, who arrived just after I finished and before Jim finished.</div><div><br /></div><div>As if Jim and I getting the buckle wasn't enough, Anthony won the MG 50 race overall and Simon won the MG 50 singlespeed category. Plus, Tanya had a strong finish that earned her a top spot in the overall NUE marathon women's standings.</div><div><br /></div><div>In all, 12 people got the buckle this year. I was the only singlespeeder, and Jim and I were the only teammates to get the buckle. We took the group buckle photo, chatted with some more people, and then headed back to the AirBNB to shower and get some food.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't think a chicken parm ever tasted so good, and Jim seemed to be even more excited than me to eat his chicken parm. The four of us had a late dinner at a pizza/Italian joint, and then went back to get to bed. I never sleep well the night after a hard race, and this was no exception. I don't think any of us slept well, actually, but it was a small price to pay.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtM4V8VRHLknhs_6iyYVRVK859oxjf-3gzESpFvfSsWX790HFSugoCcHTsuJZs8hUHhBcpXvWLt7SLeA-W53vL3OIpBkAKkQjGCvhLn_VUHPj0rWATlvpUi-uM3osnTetLc6-Bkz3tjKH9lIcn6RXVKgioE8xwjDNY7G4G4-UfwGAbnHvaJZoJaTbD5og/s4032/IMG_8864.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtM4V8VRHLknhs_6iyYVRVK859oxjf-3gzESpFvfSsWX790HFSugoCcHTsuJZs8hUHhBcpXvWLt7SLeA-W53vL3OIpBkAKkQjGCvhLn_VUHPj0rWATlvpUi-uM3osnTetLc6-Bkz3tjKH9lIcn6RXVKgioE8xwjDNY7G4G4-UfwGAbnHvaJZoJaTbD5og/s320/IMG_8864.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back at the AirBNB after dinner</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>The next morning, we hit the road back to the 'Burgh. We stopped at a breakfast place in Munising and I enjoyed one of the best breakfasts I've had in a while: a massive country-fried steak. It was heavy, but it was just what I needed.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMJ2o7DGgZMm4AHnIMgQVnclK5QXJljQjPKbaYdwuRZsHP6aF6AEAm8hXGyzuz0TYe7uxZcyhkc2ghEfwxXKqTNqiFXZqVBU4pg-wmpcu3xD5-vd8rkf_dTUPkGgrtHMs51sza3vjOM3gipwY3-93Rg-bSYRhaYbUYTHBgPoOEaCS9vTAIA0R0uiOmH1A/s4032/IMG_8869.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMJ2o7DGgZMm4AHnIMgQVnclK5QXJljQjPKbaYdwuRZsHP6aF6AEAm8hXGyzuz0TYe7uxZcyhkc2ghEfwxXKqTNqiFXZqVBU4pg-wmpcu3xD5-vd8rkf_dTUPkGgrtHMs51sza3vjOM3gipwY3-93Rg-bSYRhaYbUYTHBgPoOEaCS9vTAIA0R0uiOmH1A/s320/IMG_8869.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihQlz8lRnBAFtwU78I1MI6TlftEorN5yHtvwfKKNWqg1zr_RhTfgQYqW1BH7-OB2NMkBZ2vsaUQhluEVV5vD6hPvYkeOUkcmUKNcx9vkZ2NWj_rH0PLnoORtf9I0g3oAcPln-nqi8NUJFQPP22Mv0EJlts9wrw6oSqzoOoonFFsHd5SvFx08BhgbnOWGA/s4032/IMG_8871.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihQlz8lRnBAFtwU78I1MI6TlftEorN5yHtvwfKKNWqg1zr_RhTfgQYqW1BH7-OB2NMkBZ2vsaUQhluEVV5vD6hPvYkeOUkcmUKNcx9vkZ2NWj_rH0PLnoORtf9I0g3oAcPln-nqi8NUJFQPP22Mv0EJlts9wrw6oSqzoOoonFFsHd5SvFx08BhgbnOWGA/s320/IMG_8871.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>The rest of the drive home felt long, but it actually wasn't as bad as I had feared. Simon and I stopped for Subway - and then Burger King for dinner - so the drive got broken up a bit. Simon played a bunch of good music on the drive home, and there were lots of things to laugh at. We got to Simon's place around 9 PM, and I was home half an hour later. What a trip.</div><div><br /></div><div>There are a few extra things I'd really like to mention. For one, I know a few people paid attention to my comment after Shenandoah regarding which NUE race is the hardest. When you just cross the finish line of a 10+ hour race, your brain isn't exactly working properly, and you tend to say hyperbolic things. Being prone to hyperbole already, I'm especially susceptible to that.</div><div><br /></div><div>But, what do I actually think? What is harder? It doesn't really matter. My opinion is just that: an opinion. If you want to know, you really have to find out for yourself. I think that on paper, Marji Gesick is harder, but that's just my opinion. The course is longer, and times are longer, and it's probably more technical overall. But once again.... the O-word, opinion.</div><div><br /></div><div>That said, the course itself is only one aspect of what makes a race difficult. Shenandoah was 95 degrees, whereas Marji never got above 70 degrees. I was blown out at Shenandoah 6 hours in, but at Marji, I felt pretty good the whole time. That doesn't mean Shenandoah is harder, it just means the conditions made me suffer more. Marji definitely gives more of a full-body workout, though. My back was smoked after Marji.</div><div><br /></div><div>All of that is just to say that "harder race" is subjective, and it depends on a lot of things. I love Marji Gesick, and it's a darn tough race. I'll leave it at that.</div><div><br /></div><div>The second thing I wanted to mention are the tokens. At Marji, you have to collect 3 or 4 tokens at various checkpoints throughout the race, and present them at the finish line in order to officially finish the race. This year, the tokens were fireball candy and dumdum lollipops. Last year, the tokens were wood nickels. A couple top racers got disqualified for not having the tokens at the finish line this year, which really sucks, but it's part of the race. I don't really have an opinion on that whole thing, and I don't want to opine at all, so I'll leave it at that. I just wanted to at least bring that up for posterity.</div><div><br /></div><div>Finally, I want to bring this to some sort of conclusion. Marji Gesick is the last of the NUE races I'll likely do this year (unless I do Big Bear), so it sort of feels like the end of a season to me. I ended up winning all four NUE races I did this year in the singlespeed category, but of all of them, Marji Gesick was the most satisfying. Why it was satisfying is a mix of redemption, meeting my goal, and finishing the year strong. Last year, I missed the buckle by 40 minutes, so for 365 days, the buckle was always in the back of my mind. Being able to go to Michigan again, set a pacing plan, and follow that plan the whole race felt really good. It's not often that things go exactly to plan, but Marji Gesick 2023 was one of those times. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have a lot to be thankful for after this race. Of course, I couldn't do it without my family and friends and the support of my team, Syndicate Cycling. Anyone who knows me knows that I don't like mindlessly recognizing sponsors; when I thank someone, I want it to mean something. Anthony and the entire Syndicate team, as well as all the sponsors the team has secured, are truly indispensable to the fun and success I have biking. For instance, rather than camping and fiddling with tents in the dark, Anthony hooked us all up with an AirBNB. That's something I'm extremely thankful for. There's also no doubt that biking often brings out something spiritual in me. The combination of suffering, being in awesome places, and accomplishing goals makes me look deep inside and realize that there's something more out there than just rocks, roots, and dirt. I'm grateful that racing and biking in general brings my mind to those places.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lastly, crossing that finish line in Ishpeming reminded me of one thing: riding and racing bikes is exactly what I want to be doing. There's not much else I really want to do.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlYbFzNNlLt51zCvZQXCqeud8TDj5wOBiJU2gzd17-zGN4O7qGH9Q3HGtC66jluQiAPDRvoS0vx2sVIwhRgPJQFA3tVfn6dAOQZxYAOMXixqaiAatBvC7kZFJLWTC93dwxOHIGNEpDqdSMB8aUWzockAO_02l2oGtAs8VbN4SDpVO9ISWYoRkEURQxzMI/s4032/IMG_8886.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlYbFzNNlLt51zCvZQXCqeud8TDj5wOBiJU2gzd17-zGN4O7qGH9Q3HGtC66jluQiAPDRvoS0vx2sVIwhRgPJQFA3tVfn6dAOQZxYAOMXixqaiAatBvC7kZFJLWTC93dwxOHIGNEpDqdSMB8aUWzockAO_02l2oGtAs8VbN4SDpVO9ISWYoRkEURQxzMI/s320/IMG_8886.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The buckle; sorry Simon, I didn't take a better picture of it</td></tr></tbody></table>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-33606695613885953732023-09-13T08:11:00.006-04:002023-09-13T08:11:49.372-04:00The Onion 2023<div>Kennerdell is a little river town up in the great northwest of Pennsylvania, and if you've ever been there, you can't help but feel there's something special about it. Even before I started mountain biking, my family used to do camping trips on the Allegheny River, and Kennerdell was typically the town where we'd put the kayaks on the water. So you see, Kennerdell, despite being an oft-forgotten nook along the winding river, has a bit of nostalgia for me. When you add in fantastic backcountry trails and awesome friends, it's easy to see why the Onion is one of my favorite weekends.</div><div><br /></div><div>Admittedly, I've only been to a few Onions, but despite some, uh, <i>difficulty </i>on a past Onion for me, it's something that will always be on my calendar. The name "Onion" comes from the idea that people can "peel" (bail and head back to camp) off from the route at any point. Those who do the whole ride are the "core" of the Onion.</div><div><br /><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG_aGY89L8i-ZrJuhkYMpsQ4OMlkTTljAiBjcxcPuS_R7wIEIlbwsEsVG1uNKgVQAZiDE-8uEdu7H2uM-DBaJFPpI7awgyusxDyWY2IxpvIj6B_EGVX5g3WgkeQfsFWrkMN4kGZRwOreZwFYN8oFpr28VdUFpo6zKCuMhD3CZ0ozb9D8A_3Asv_DG9AOU/s4032/IMG_8642%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG_aGY89L8i-ZrJuhkYMpsQ4OMlkTTljAiBjcxcPuS_R7wIEIlbwsEsVG1uNKgVQAZiDE-8uEdu7H2uM-DBaJFPpI7awgyusxDyWY2IxpvIj6B_EGVX5g3WgkeQfsFWrkMN4kGZRwOreZwFYN8oFpr28VdUFpo6zKCuMhD3CZ0ozb9D8A_3Asv_DG9AOU/s320/IMG_8642%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggOl6-qEMrq-9TGr4U9QFRDCd0h_7D80YfH29trTIpyzB6kmwC-v4ldXMijPZ8_S5Vb1IQTB6-tf1dkSaRiX6YPLggWDAyPgkCefxh7Uopms9aca5LBX5nn5WoZZzaoXuVWflSv35-oJhXNrgAQUduKoZyzZecrFqqrl852u41nCgLaFIxMD7X3MCbUvA/s4032/IMG_8643.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggOl6-qEMrq-9TGr4U9QFRDCd0h_7D80YfH29trTIpyzB6kmwC-v4ldXMijPZ8_S5Vb1IQTB6-tf1dkSaRiX6YPLggWDAyPgkCefxh7Uopms9aca5LBX5nn5WoZZzaoXuVWflSv35-oJhXNrgAQUduKoZyzZecrFqqrl852u41nCgLaFIxMD7X3MCbUvA/s320/IMG_8643.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">The new Onion poster (left) and the Dahn Pahrs send-off poster (right)<br /></span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div><br /></div><div>The credit for organizing this great weekend goes to the Palermo's, Gotch, Jimmy, and everyone else who pitches in to set up the camp and plan the route. When I first went to the Onion, it was just a small grass field on an empty plot of land in Kennerdell, but now, there's a little cabin, a firewood shed, and all sorts of luxury amenities.<br /><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAAKwrz369F-3lqSeim4kFL8imGcQhlrLKhZAbQru4c2KY_Okf23srpzwCB5CDXvDqoZX01xSyqSU1W_b0bBvSFKChPUZA79Zvt4uOel3JmPEIWN4TIoGv6tz1fIGK0DbKMWKMNbJsXdfHhYaw8Pel1CzZ-UkrRVo3onNf6cG0ZWa2OsYeOLQXUc6xiM0/s4032/IMG_8626.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAAKwrz369F-3lqSeim4kFL8imGcQhlrLKhZAbQru4c2KY_Okf23srpzwCB5CDXvDqoZX01xSyqSU1W_b0bBvSFKChPUZA79Zvt4uOel3JmPEIWN4TIoGv6tz1fIGK0DbKMWKMNbJsXdfHhYaw8Pel1CzZ-UkrRVo3onNf6cG0ZWa2OsYeOLQXUc6xiM0/s320/IMG_8626.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQpTc3LF-DUp5UaXuBro9Sb0g9R9kSNXsd84SQ9AvppjoJQKssubgKVxDa6FHmM_9OqSA7lfZ4p51GcGVCLuod7WnWpamoNCbcnlI2KYckOMA3voxdMjYGd7jJ4uOB9Lf43v6RA11UHWIOT8eiGyosKPsUrw5gdSdAh0jBEGmc_FETUxQSx6mrrr24YBU/s4032/IMG_8631.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQpTc3LF-DUp5UaXuBro9Sb0g9R9kSNXsd84SQ9AvppjoJQKssubgKVxDa6FHmM_9OqSA7lfZ4p51GcGVCLuod7WnWpamoNCbcnlI2KYckOMA3voxdMjYGd7jJ4uOB9Lf43v6RA11UHWIOT8eiGyosKPsUrw5gdSdAh0jBEGmc_FETUxQSx6mrrr24YBU/s320/IMG_8631.HEIC" width="240" /></a><div><br /><div><br /></div><div>It always seems that the people who show up to the Onion are my favorite people to hang out and ride with. Plus, anyone I don't know quickly becomes a friend. Above you can see the Brazilian hammer Jesu plotting his attacks for the next day during the ride.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg50A32VeYHkno0ncl9-inc0Zw6sWoXBieyhPpfYlNs39HOBp22zdihhwfGk8KjhmyH_phevsWJjoFAc3IOv_9DrGJfBbFlpPMLW2i5lVRztTzvCCFO3Buw5tiHM55Rw0XqQnq38AdkFdWpFoYZp7nF1Sl-jJU9JnBMPk8naCyh026-D496q5V54h1o1SM/s4032/IMG_8630.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg50A32VeYHkno0ncl9-inc0Zw6sWoXBieyhPpfYlNs39HOBp22zdihhwfGk8KjhmyH_phevsWJjoFAc3IOv_9DrGJfBbFlpPMLW2i5lVRztTzvCCFO3Buw5tiHM55Rw0XqQnq38AdkFdWpFoYZp7nF1Sl-jJU9JnBMPk8naCyh026-D496q5V54h1o1SM/s320/IMG_8630.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I set up my tent early Friday evening, knowing that once it got dark, I'd lose what little motivation I had to set it up. Unlike last time, I certainly wasn't going to be sleeping in a ditch. It really was a great evening hanging out around the campfire and talking all things bike-related and non-bike-related. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I won't name any names, but someone woke up with the tequila flu on Saturday, and I swear, it wasn't me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVwAKzloF_AG50lGkCKJJZdZdpw2Rpani2NVIlbe1tCjqndLbTG8p_uDvff0cFMXCYdwRzSEtbB5Y9gMGJ6Zj9RSpL_-Q-PIJZ4bwQma0orlgV_69LqX3OVLHqYU7k08HB6QIwym5A_mK0arMduICJXGAOB5qWQ9lnN_PqO8ah3isjvi-GoDDIwYx8wTA/s4032/IMG_8638.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVwAKzloF_AG50lGkCKJJZdZdpw2Rpani2NVIlbe1tCjqndLbTG8p_uDvff0cFMXCYdwRzSEtbB5Y9gMGJ6Zj9RSpL_-Q-PIJZ4bwQma0orlgV_69LqX3OVLHqYU7k08HB6QIwym5A_mK0arMduICJXGAOB5qWQ9lnN_PqO8ah3isjvi-GoDDIwYx8wTA/s320/IMG_8638.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVYUJgmPWNS722XEniyvd9wC15K9KLBixL_pSdjA5HN98pD56NlV7LxAO9MTYPrKa7k0rEvKtbHKEDfW24Kkf1vly0Ko08Cxp1n1qJGBskFYM4l47eRl51MG3jv5g_yvGKhjKl2nIdryRmOk2811rJW3-A_pKgBmn1XvIbFZVGrfhRF3umuVIpzetIvZA/s4032/IMG_8635.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVYUJgmPWNS722XEniyvd9wC15K9KLBixL_pSdjA5HN98pD56NlV7LxAO9MTYPrKa7k0rEvKtbHKEDfW24Kkf1vly0Ko08Cxp1n1qJGBskFYM4l47eRl51MG3jv5g_yvGKhjKl2nIdryRmOk2811rJW3-A_pKgBmn1XvIbFZVGrfhRF3umuVIpzetIvZA/s320/IMG_8635.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I truly believe that crappy conditions make a ride way more memorable, and in a way, more fun. This Onion was no exception, with rain starting in earnest just before we set off. Luckily, the temps were in the high 60s, so being cold wasn't much of an issue.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The group suffered a few early mechanicals - Gotch broke his SPD pedal and Montana broke his drooper seatpost - but aside from that, it was smooth sailing. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We rode a new trail built by a couple dudes who joined us on the ride, and it was fantastic. I hit the first couple big rock features on my rigid, but after Cinderbloch looked at me and was shocked that I rode the features on a rigid, I decided I had probably misjudged the difficulty and was lucky to have made it. Or maybe I'm just that skilled... haha, I doubt it. I decided to keep it in check and not risk it much more.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO0p5emDvxq0XIZIKowCI68a--tomf_cODJYTyAXlbEIwSxAxd3GnOSFRUJ-mG1FU7Elk8iOHKR5FB5Rv-CLXhLMt4tdtngjqdnQ6ekAIGmRb3lzJ7GeFs_ILCdoZr2ODlEJlv7KFOGQW38ypXyanCe_xoxEgDV1fiUYpGOkNrPLfDj7GisBUrCCaeZZY/s4032/IMG_8654.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO0p5emDvxq0XIZIKowCI68a--tomf_cODJYTyAXlbEIwSxAxd3GnOSFRUJ-mG1FU7Elk8iOHKR5FB5Rv-CLXhLMt4tdtngjqdnQ6ekAIGmRb3lzJ7GeFs_ILCdoZr2ODlEJlv7KFOGQW38ypXyanCe_xoxEgDV1fiUYpGOkNrPLfDj7GisBUrCCaeZZY/s320/IMG_8654.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitciPklkOsXdy0Kch1rGfiupJpffDbctJBW4WgINfqqe_nae1AtXKuEpgLLoqGoLn1sM3lvTrpCUww8WrUeeyUaRJWML_z9w34Wp7xebn3_yWokZebf1soYHw_mJulGOhUbIpicNPh9swYx4FojG3pnWdYL4jsgyAx9COgGEwLM-2JQe-hMmHS3m8Wpl0/s4032/IMG_8653.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitciPklkOsXdy0Kch1rGfiupJpffDbctJBW4WgINfqqe_nae1AtXKuEpgLLoqGoLn1sM3lvTrpCUww8WrUeeyUaRJWML_z9w34Wp7xebn3_yWokZebf1soYHw_mJulGOhUbIpicNPh9swYx4FojG3pnWdYL4jsgyAx9COgGEwLM-2JQe-hMmHS3m8Wpl0/s320/IMG_8653.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Some of the other trails we rode had been built by Jimmy and more of the Kennerdell crew, and I can say with certainty they're some of my favorite that I've ridden anywhere. I'm a sucker for hand built backcountry primitive trails, and that's exactly what these are.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTAQS-VtHdGmcNFwa2oAmlfsSv1g-dif0SGMXxd1uWy_d4zsAQFcV2NgWCGuPuOqh4Gq0nku6F909MIBFVo9IDucocx6hG2EfDZCBB2BJzr_40RWI3RSq2lX7iPRckVFceG5jnqLo5zJKtm-rgv2VxNqR7A76mD8kJDCa15eQZXJRn2Mo9iQChNppY-m8/s4032/IMG_7007.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTAQS-VtHdGmcNFwa2oAmlfsSv1g-dif0SGMXxd1uWy_d4zsAQFcV2NgWCGuPuOqh4Gq0nku6F909MIBFVo9IDucocx6hG2EfDZCBB2BJzr_40RWI3RSq2lX7iPRckVFceG5jnqLo5zJKtm-rgv2VxNqR7A76mD8kJDCa15eQZXJRn2Mo9iQChNppY-m8/s320/IMG_7007.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The rain certainly didn't stop any of us from having a good time. The downhills at Kennerdell are all so much fun, and since they're all very primitive, you're always on the lookout for hidden hazards. That makes it all the better.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidnB8fJlc7TnlIcU4skvR5qJ7Yb1Al7hqj0txrHvScjso0SMoXd8zCfjtuNHdYA8CcGnMBNQRUMgoCZThGI19THhhZuBGOh1iflF_v-4xek9ooCDCTvV07jWWNdV2wRnslTuxpoevTDYdW8XQWSRXwcCPrBn3qu5W08kHp9MLOegdSC7134XsCcp6yybs/s4032/IMG_7008.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidnB8fJlc7TnlIcU4skvR5qJ7Yb1Al7hqj0txrHvScjso0SMoXd8zCfjtuNHdYA8CcGnMBNQRUMgoCZThGI19THhhZuBGOh1iflF_v-4xek9ooCDCTvV07jWWNdV2wRnslTuxpoevTDYdW8XQWSRXwcCPrBn3qu5W08kHp9MLOegdSC7134XsCcp6yybs/s320/IMG_7008.JPEG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Stick had a really devilish grin on his face right there. I wonder why?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I don't know the trails that well, but there are a few trails that stand out. For one, Window Trail is a great trail right along a cliff edge; it's surprisingly flowy and the exposure of the cliff keeps you on your toes a little bit.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Probably my favorite downhill of the day is Kennerdell Trail, which pops out to a pavement road at the bottom. It's steep, off-camber, and has just the right amount of danger. Gotch tried making a pass on the downhill, but the trail tightened up before he could, and at the same time, I tried to squeeze by Jimmy, also unsuccessfully. I didn't care at all about passing anyone, but it was super fun to be blasting downhill and trying to make a move in a super sketchy area.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEqquycUQl2Q5HpvXCsdXLoJ12cpyqSIDMv9rD03RUpXDvmK6Uw_xOQNao3rI3_jkggs5br3-sU3hA3f4NKsZvWF8zimk94z5DAr-3BUbxhNnjm9DcxOFhcRSsPLqbTKCsqKfqnFmkCiHsS53dm3TyfqvAiBBwol3F6jSJ5qQ29MVQscQ5Z3CtgaIp8NI/s4032/IMG_7009.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEqquycUQl2Q5HpvXCsdXLoJ12cpyqSIDMv9rD03RUpXDvmK6Uw_xOQNao3rI3_jkggs5br3-sU3hA3f4NKsZvWF8zimk94z5DAr-3BUbxhNnjm9DcxOFhcRSsPLqbTKCsqKfqnFmkCiHsS53dm3TyfqvAiBBwol3F6jSJ5qQ29MVQscQ5Z3CtgaIp8NI/s320/IMG_7009.JPEG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>I promise that you couldn't have asked for a better group of people to ride with. It seems that everyone who rides a mountain bike on the east coast knows how to ride rocks, or at least, everyone at the Onion knows how to ride rocks.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_KhGS_LiN4OlAq8OrjSnb9L18z9-VhMGAD9aHQa5JWJR5-K2L24mAuwnBO63f7eCIkgJ9V8N2qt1cZIdQGZ7MAN_VXMQbFHkFZVPxj4ASD0g-KBVK-qkr28MQ2Cl48bP40hTTbLIMQ-tJqdlc65ntgrj0fBG_UfLSWtxqv7LST1u_w2xlM-rbE0FFbVo/s4032/IMG_8659.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_KhGS_LiN4OlAq8OrjSnb9L18z9-VhMGAD9aHQa5JWJR5-K2L24mAuwnBO63f7eCIkgJ9V8N2qt1cZIdQGZ7MAN_VXMQbFHkFZVPxj4ASD0g-KBVK-qkr28MQ2Cl48bP40hTTbLIMQ-tJqdlc65ntgrj0fBG_UfLSWtxqv7LST1u_w2xlM-rbE0FFbVo/s320/IMG_8659.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLA2qWFnALYYNLamthabYU4AXDiSP1QlvI0sQc5vK6-33wsc5_0LXWZF2G5P-db7lGGnBb3nxT-shZ4xFCK3nrN9Orqv75vcuSocvH8CasD-64uwsTEOcbcKp81gIkSaODi85X-JDHuTVnqkcANDxrxIRMmlrWwoRHVsXBvkhGDUnGeO8sOsOowIh5HxM/s4032/IMG_8660.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLA2qWFnALYYNLamthabYU4AXDiSP1QlvI0sQc5vK6-33wsc5_0LXWZF2G5P-db7lGGnBb3nxT-shZ4xFCK3nrN9Orqv75vcuSocvH8CasD-64uwsTEOcbcKp81gIkSaODi85X-JDHuTVnqkcANDxrxIRMmlrWwoRHVsXBvkhGDUnGeO8sOsOowIh5HxM/s320/IMG_8660.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was fun to do some battling with Joe out there on the climbs. I don't think either of us were really swinging full throttle, but still, it was fun to be chased by a stud on a singlespeed out there. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Stick actually brought his geared bike to the ride, which despite being much sad, seemed like a great bike for the day of riding. Stick was flying on the downhills and still going fast on the climbs, so I guess he can be forgiven.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The last climb of the day was Blunder Trail, a doubletrack trail that deteriorated toward the top. I expected quite a bit of hike-a-bike, but as it turned out, I cleaned the whole thing except having to put my foot down briefly two or three times on some slippery rainy rocks. From there, it was back to camp on a couple more short trails and then the gravel road. The attacks started once we reached the gravel, and being on 32x20, I was completely dropped by both Jimmy and Ryanne. Ah, I love that the endings of the Onion always end up being a sprint. I remember last time Joe was trying to hold onto my seat to hold me back, hahaha.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT7x5T7NK0CKqcTmTxMu7MY3CYFylX9Pz3SvFVAdDyfwSdGtUkDTT-VoRkikoMztXxcmvSIK8wtDq3FYszijHjm0notXugNI9kNR6bvFSY1wRu1DSzs6jcF2DpHv9HEuqimIv5fBsPppiVNZVpnKlvGpaFwif59EpdRdn4ROnZp_BzvIeYslKWAyrhPXU/s4032/IMG_8669.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT7x5T7NK0CKqcTmTxMu7MY3CYFylX9Pz3SvFVAdDyfwSdGtUkDTT-VoRkikoMztXxcmvSIK8wtDq3FYszijHjm0notXugNI9kNR6bvFSY1wRu1DSzs6jcF2DpHv9HEuqimIv5fBsPppiVNZVpnKlvGpaFwif59EpdRdn4ROnZp_BzvIeYslKWAyrhPXU/s320/IMG_8669.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL9Zr9LMjFd0DKTHQYyj7e9nKefDqrAFGQknDQ0x0ps6GLbErd9kbUSX1ZwenhmMZl5gDsPSwodtcMvUwmmRrdazB7DNBG3qppo1w8FE0pivkn2pgRwsmBjxwvfuvC0YG9hx9j_JDt0wSRETzm2Aj2B-0PQrjgSqnpaZCqNUR62UMU0w8tRJkJw5c7bEM/s4032/IMG_8689.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL9Zr9LMjFd0DKTHQYyj7e9nKefDqrAFGQknDQ0x0ps6GLbErd9kbUSX1ZwenhmMZl5gDsPSwodtcMvUwmmRrdazB7DNBG3qppo1w8FE0pivkn2pgRwsmBjxwvfuvC0YG9hx9j_JDt0wSRETzm2Aj2B-0PQrjgSqnpaZCqNUR62UMU0w8tRJkJw5c7bEM/s320/IMG_8689.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The post-ride hang out back at the camp was another great part of the weekend. There were tons of snacks, and everyone stayed around for a bit to chat by the fire.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Eventually, several people went home leaving just the crew that was there Friday night, with the welcome addition of Joe. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Joe brought up a set of outdoor Jenga, which provided ample entertainment for a couple hours. Let the record show that I never lost, and Montana lost twice. Evens up the score after Breck, eh Montana?</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMp2Pjz4HLI-NW0T65tEut-lyHMvDw_x4Uj8rbfyzhNkb5gzzJMrBg-FNxJ7DTQ1WkBHE6EjA0NbazL4pDnaDTK3NSQqvXJh-2Mj0TO8H83khx_YRsB-_IwYUytUHhibHza8JQO2Rcz4I8QGK0qS0qQ1-EZbhfgAMWiZYCOEpkOLW9WqGaKb34wQFVMuM/s4032/IMG_8674.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMp2Pjz4HLI-NW0T65tEut-lyHMvDw_x4Uj8rbfyzhNkb5gzzJMrBg-FNxJ7DTQ1WkBHE6EjA0NbazL4pDnaDTK3NSQqvXJh-2Mj0TO8H83khx_YRsB-_IwYUytUHhibHza8JQO2Rcz4I8QGK0qS0qQ1-EZbhfgAMWiZYCOEpkOLW9WqGaKb34wQFVMuM/w190-h253/IMG_8674.HEIC" width="190" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJQicRC71nTk9rqZeJ9cNNp9oLQKWizkmPkNShVqJ4JoD2srDqxAmCHmkOaxtyWSXL3UCgJ5F_7RzgfkNPIQSiDUdWMBd05ano0Y8XQTmwKEMPO10Je4ek1GFhh9ds9M7XQuJjo3MEgxlBhKt0np8sKSvhwRXtf-gNep0Fu0aAY27u95Tp0YDxY1u_4gA/s4032/IMG_8679.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJQicRC71nTk9rqZeJ9cNNp9oLQKWizkmPkNShVqJ4JoD2srDqxAmCHmkOaxtyWSXL3UCgJ5F_7RzgfkNPIQSiDUdWMBd05ano0Y8XQTmwKEMPO10Je4ek1GFhh9ds9M7XQuJjo3MEgxlBhKt0np8sKSvhwRXtf-gNep0Fu0aAY27u95Tp0YDxY1u_4gA/w188-h251/IMG_8679.HEIC" width="188" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbflObdXAC2MbgpReQ38MvQXc0V7b6H-M0nRmaQU7rGgf2BiXnIBDVqOxyuYlM1odBO2lKX2H1XCKf_gengWWYRNZQBHoGEpsXYyQFYYJSh1cj9uqbMbP7euYgwJE3hKNb7KBWC9cZ2fiAsNnGdYl4waLluuvXsuoSEEJRM5IRfWQHdXHO-Nre3p5W_J8/s4032/IMG_8685.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbflObdXAC2MbgpReQ38MvQXc0V7b6H-M0nRmaQU7rGgf2BiXnIBDVqOxyuYlM1odBO2lKX2H1XCKf_gengWWYRNZQBHoGEpsXYyQFYYJSh1cj9uqbMbP7euYgwJE3hKNb7KBWC9cZ2fiAsNnGdYl4waLluuvXsuoSEEJRM5IRfWQHdXHO-Nre3p5W_J8/w188-h249/IMG_8685.HEIC" width="188" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I guess despite what I said earlier, I did do quite a bit of sinning that weekend, in the form of over-eating, haha. I can't remember the last time I ate that much food in a night - hot dogs, Gotch's French fries, and more. No wonder I woke up the next morning with heart burn; I certainly paid the price.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXhJnQAuJ88PnL3XEmTzFB_OMT46KKyKPmS1ECdljspiswSiOgZwl4tkbHAtnIYGB2uAsfJe7OknwJpp4RUjDhRLkQrYS3iBLSSq_o-ihmumTm-EnJ_-BRe035GyyZb1lGAQtDMsELotlcqwoypCzq36bFzmifutmGhHssT8Q2kkjoxK35baN9Wd_p67Q/s4032/IMG_8702.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXhJnQAuJ88PnL3XEmTzFB_OMT46KKyKPmS1ECdljspiswSiOgZwl4tkbHAtnIYGB2uAsfJe7OknwJpp4RUjDhRLkQrYS3iBLSSq_o-ihmumTm-EnJ_-BRe035GyyZb1lGAQtDMsELotlcqwoypCzq36bFzmifutmGhHssT8Q2kkjoxK35baN9Wd_p67Q/s320/IMG_8702.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdblBDgu4EB_pQoRnkgawk4DH9j1KSJyN-uBr5KJyJzTct9ijFm7orhGXCqswAtHs9vJcl0Je1WAFpL5_bbUspARvo9gg8_2i0Q3MlftNiJH1KWV1e3q-Oy1lLgplciLZmNanUT52mk17pEuL993Qx4-oiSkrvA7g8vCcy3S7a6fcpDCC1Om6UoFZ4p78/s4032/IMG_8703.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdblBDgu4EB_pQoRnkgawk4DH9j1KSJyN-uBr5KJyJzTct9ijFm7orhGXCqswAtHs9vJcl0Je1WAFpL5_bbUspARvo9gg8_2i0Q3MlftNiJH1KWV1e3q-Oy1lLgplciLZmNanUT52mk17pEuL993Qx4-oiSkrvA7g8vCcy3S7a6fcpDCC1Om6UoFZ4p78/s320/IMG_8703.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Everyone else had to drive home Sunday morning, but since Stick was driving home with me, I suckered him into joining me for a bonus Kennerdell spin. We rode the Lookout Descent, as opposed to Kennerdell Trail the day earlier, to complete some of the missing parts on the map from the ride the day before.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We later climbed up Ridge Trail, which a bit more hike-a-bike than the Blunder Trail climb we did the day before. Surprisingly, I only had to walk one (albeit long) section of the climb. On the top part of the climb, which I had to get off and walk the last two times, I was able to power up and clean the whole thing. I honestly think right now is the strongest I've ever been on a singlespeed. Perhaps my fitness was sharper when I was doing intervals with Will, but having only ridden singlespeed this whole year, my legs are feeling really strong.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">To me, what's even more important than feeling super strong is having a lot of fun while riding. I think the Onion was a great reset for me after having done a lot of competing recently with Wilderness, Breck Epic, and Shenandoah. Personally, I need a good mix of fun and competitive, and the Onion was just what I needed to balance it out again.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In the days since the Onion, I've been smiling almost constantly on my rides. Even yesterday while it was raining, I couldn't help but smile as I got poured on by the rain. I guess I'm doing something right.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3mx2Pl0JJe2-WABRKbTM4v6uigfSxanCscGIrRLXhzD4nGHO3F0NTZLfEPpDq9FDq5XHnIGbeEA91toGNAsDBkuHmf8HWJLBxTH9TOdncyW_NUxWrGUADTkZCDWM5tulQfc2iXH72VOrddh678gUg6Augn4blOuudQI7Y_Z9kgJYqAaIP1zFdd0iN8Ss/s4032/IMG_8705.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3mx2Pl0JJe2-WABRKbTM4v6uigfSxanCscGIrRLXhzD4nGHO3F0NTZLfEPpDq9FDq5XHnIGbeEA91toGNAsDBkuHmf8HWJLBxTH9TOdncyW_NUxWrGUADTkZCDWM5tulQfc2iXH72VOrddh678gUg6Augn4blOuudQI7Y_Z9kgJYqAaIP1zFdd0iN8Ss/s320/IMG_8705.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /><br /></p></div></div></div><span><!--more--></span><span><!--more--></span><span><!--more--></span></div>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-14083457030737164122023-09-05T09:54:00.005-04:002023-09-07T11:16:53.580-04:00Shenandoah 100!I've said it before and I'll say it again, 100 mile mountain bike races are my favorite kind of racing. For one, I love the patterns you recognize in races. It start's off fast, you find a groove, you feel great, you feel crappy, maybe you feel great again, and so forth. That narrative seems all the more dramatic when you're in the moment. <div><br /></div><div>And then there's the adventure. Climbing up abandoned forest roads, traversing along ridge-tops, and flying down literal mountains is the epitome of mountain biking. You get all the great views and all the great trails all while getting to race and push yourself. That's a win-win, win.</div><div><br /></div><div>Perhaps the most important to me, though, is the experience of being at the race. That's intentionally vague because it encompasses so much. Spending a weekend with family and friends - and new friends - is a blast. Racers camp together and then the now-veterans of the race hang out at the finish line after the event. If only for a weekend, mountain bikes seem like everything.</div><div><br /></div><div><div>Being from Pittsburgh, there are three 100-mile races that stand out. The term "Triple Crown" perhaps seems a little bit ostentatious, but still, for the Pittsburgh area, it's hard to argue that there are more iconic 100-mile races than these: the Mohican 100, the Wilderness 101, and the Shenandoah 100. Now that I think of it, perhaps that's only true among my friend group of singlespeeders, but I'm a singlespeeder, so that's alright.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXNzXs57FdnKUEgvXphCaijGDiukV5intQIckZctQSIIkTkyuoVVDjs-_4xwPhYmCbvuWPfscUufVwbEJMNbXANaP0Xy5wqHXAJfDco4vrZEDCQoYXHF7LmlaxLYtrs_AkL-QYYT33_qWwlNl7X8rUdrVAjfk51OVrOsyEA2hbVRph4vRc5FKmdxpp-GY/s1170/IMG_8576.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="867" data-original-width="1170" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXNzXs57FdnKUEgvXphCaijGDiukV5intQIckZctQSIIkTkyuoVVDjs-_4xwPhYmCbvuWPfscUufVwbEJMNbXANaP0Xy5wqHXAJfDco4vrZEDCQoYXHF7LmlaxLYtrs_AkL-QYYT33_qWwlNl7X8rUdrVAjfk51OVrOsyEA2hbVRph4vRc5FKmdxpp-GY/w386-h286/IMG_8576.jpg" width="386" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dan, me, Stick</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div>Either way, having already raced in the Mohican 100 and Wilderness 101 races year, I was really excited to try Shenandoah. Especially since I've done both Mohican and Wilderness two times each before, but I've never done Shenandoah. Going into it, I knew the weekend was going to be great regardless of the outcome, since I'd be camping with great friends and even seeing Zach and my parents briefly after Saturday's 100 kilometer race.</div><div><div><br /></div><div>The trip started with picking up Stick and driving south to Harrisonburg. After some difficulty finding lunch, Stick and I hit up a Mexican place for some grub before getting to camp. The timing worked out pretty well; we got there right as people were starting to finish.</div><div><br /></div><div>Zach finished shortly before we got there, in 8th place overall. With a strong field, that was a great result. Shortly after him, Simon came across the line winning the singlespeed class. There were a lot of great results from Pittsburgh friends, with teammates Anthony (who had some major Camelback issues) and Jim finishing 4th and 7th, respectively, and Ryan J. winning the 100k race overall. My friend Tanya from State College also had a great race in the 100k!</div><div><br /></div><div>My dad finished the race a little bit later for his 3rd NUE marathon distance race of the season. He thought the Shenandoah course was the hardest of the three he'd done, and I'd have to agree.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIAXlnGbl9dONYu7DxlvSw7X7RV5i4VWAITjtN8YKFIEBAJLcvLULpGmTXhPSlHbZYZ10MVW2gja67-5j6s68PAzgwHhjQjO7MXQk1c4DYalq5F7oAZRq4oG3KLZtRIsQx_hOqXLnkxCDHkRR2LfnjviATWYv_vQUyqmefp8ksTE9K1JSWIiIRRYiENY/s4032/IMG_8527.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIAXlnGbl9dONYu7DxlvSw7X7RV5i4VWAITjtN8YKFIEBAJLcvLULpGmTXhPSlHbZYZ10MVW2gja67-5j6s68PAzgwHhjQjO7MXQk1c4DYalq5F7oAZRq4oG3KLZtRIsQx_hOqXLnkxCDHkRR2LfnjviATWYv_vQUyqmefp8ksTE9K1JSWIiIRRYiENY/s320/IMG_8527.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pre-riding with Stick</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>After a little chatting, me, Zach, Simon, and Stick went down to the Stokesville bridge for a swim in the creek. The water was cold, but ice baths are supposed to be good, right? I'm trying my hardest (not really) at this whole athlete thing.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5GcL0ugPW0cf6_janlP_KLrnoZhs2jmN43k8ieOOOmwsA4xn9CRYdaBn9FLktPVSBC5qUJmwWTaSZJpr1pzDsPuzbsY0BfUjcOR4DiLWJSk7YK9n56LwSkhsTyr1nPfGl1As0G04Kf6wTzs_MrKZ9N5-wdrpKNc_ckcdq-V79-9PJjxP27tVavo5nMJw/s4032/IMG_8535.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5GcL0ugPW0cf6_janlP_KLrnoZhs2jmN43k8ieOOOmwsA4xn9CRYdaBn9FLktPVSBC5qUJmwWTaSZJpr1pzDsPuzbsY0BfUjcOR4DiLWJSk7YK9n56LwSkhsTyr1nPfGl1As0G04Kf6wTzs_MrKZ9N5-wdrpKNc_ckcdq-V79-9PJjxP27tVavo5nMJw/s320/IMG_8535.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifoowXJrOSMcNEG_kt9m-Nw6IcyuvnWnS7w5AZLy14e4dez4Ole4qXdcTfF-jK_SMZ7Nq3H5z1mqOettGZhmnhLn-4LcVHQqBglr-CqPTk5Vub08dIgvTJ_Ovt21QuNUEPHORsauhqMTYilktLe9uTmJS8tzq5dya_hUZSD3bhAQ3lo2IjH8_sjWvfUpA/s4032/IMG_8538.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifoowXJrOSMcNEG_kt9m-Nw6IcyuvnWnS7w5AZLy14e4dez4Ole4qXdcTfF-jK_SMZ7Nq3H5z1mqOettGZhmnhLn-4LcVHQqBglr-CqPTk5Vub08dIgvTJ_Ovt21QuNUEPHORsauhqMTYilktLe9uTmJS8tzq5dya_hUZSD3bhAQ3lo2IjH8_sjWvfUpA/s320/IMG_8538.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Down at the swimming hole<br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></span></td></tr></tbody></table>Zach and my parents had a hotel in Harrisonburg, so eventually they headed back to town for the evening. Me, Simon, and Stick talked with some friends for a while - McJorts, Litz, and some others - before heading out to find some dinner.<br /><div><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdPqjMXhEtH7Unu9tK6STftVp5xVRMvSCxKEHxMSttMRDP6JH123zf_8k4-gSIecKNsMDglbVCBk96eRa5jtx2gYB2X_-Pm3gAaHmIYHsSycC7yD8OoDDhO98YZuHpi5zh6jngSjWTqIq1pEZWPPC7lo5FjpNKLEuQM4JzSjU877jHqM4Syc7kABcfYjA/s4032/IMG_8540.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdPqjMXhEtH7Unu9tK6STftVp5xVRMvSCxKEHxMSttMRDP6JH123zf_8k4-gSIecKNsMDglbVCBk96eRa5jtx2gYB2X_-Pm3gAaHmIYHsSycC7yD8OoDDhO98YZuHpi5zh6jngSjWTqIq1pEZWPPC7lo5FjpNKLEuQM4JzSjU877jHqM4Syc7kABcfYjA/s320/IMG_8540.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwC81u1J-iuKNISSCXHTPCKfw1eKnDeH0QJGtyDiXCln4DJ40WoBoYkKO4HVhEwM78UGg0BkRLjNcdbYlw4ag1x4Ov4z0jgv3Q6IP1mebNCUiJuR3wo8ybk4KoWLwjxgAuI2mhRg6dbw0sgpxeQ7CAgQCulcVCi33_SYzRsstTB0rzFFoJKUsg_GWVtr0/s4032/IMG_8545.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwC81u1J-iuKNISSCXHTPCKfw1eKnDeH0QJGtyDiXCln4DJ40WoBoYkKO4HVhEwM78UGg0BkRLjNcdbYlw4ag1x4Ov4z0jgv3Q6IP1mebNCUiJuR3wo8ybk4KoWLwjxgAuI2mhRg6dbw0sgpxeQ7CAgQCulcVCi33_SYzRsstTB0rzFFoJKUsg_GWVtr0/s320/IMG_8545.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I thought Simon was an electrician. I guess he's secretly a model and a plumber.<br /><span style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div>The closest town, Bridgewater, had a nice pizza place we settled on after some initial difficulty finding a place to eat. After I scared him earlier in the day about the perils of eating salad before a race, Stick cautiously picked at his side salad while I went to town on a Stromboli large enough for a small village.</div><div><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo4LtU7b-lHtuMjivxNDVkxBAc-Bdo8F_9V78MhqJY02X89vf6U2zp35jjWVvFduzphauz7z1SXxDZz4qQLQqAjkMtCLkb2nabwRPrqZbIlLamtp8Tj0Z-kU-3jtYIXAJ3lwlflkjIYB0LQ254zPK-JMgYF1nYyCt61iyOjK1M3q3s92OKOjTAMQEX9mM/s4032/IMG_8550.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo4LtU7b-lHtuMjivxNDVkxBAc-Bdo8F_9V78MhqJY02X89vf6U2zp35jjWVvFduzphauz7z1SXxDZz4qQLQqAjkMtCLkb2nabwRPrqZbIlLamtp8Tj0Z-kU-3jtYIXAJ3lwlflkjIYB0LQ254zPK-JMgYF1nYyCt61iyOjK1M3q3s92OKOjTAMQEX9mM/s320/IMG_8550.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUVdzF93x_s70h_6HCPUPEMM6kTs7QoVDC3cB3GjZt903ijElbb_mceTPKxgb3r_EDNmMz8x_i7ZH4kiqR_n51Rd2Eq3gOi7Cizi12zcdSWH5jzxHYwHaAIno1NnkxFJkxoOKyINNISxt34bMuL0kjjq6zLu24zD2uYQTYMu8Xxsw_1ECjDVyO_wQPbdY/s4032/IMG_8551.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUVdzF93x_s70h_6HCPUPEMM6kTs7QoVDC3cB3GjZt903ijElbb_mceTPKxgb3r_EDNmMz8x_i7ZH4kiqR_n51Rd2Eq3gOi7Cizi12zcdSWH5jzxHYwHaAIno1NnkxFJkxoOKyINNISxt34bMuL0kjjq6zLu24zD2uYQTYMu8Xxsw_1ECjDVyO_wQPbdY/s320/IMG_8551.HEIC" width="240" /></a><br /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simon's new lucky turtle on an Oreo, and Stick breaking two of his own rules: cheese and bread before a race<br /><span style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></span></td></tr></tbody></table>Which reminds me, is there a difference between a calzone and a Stromboli? In real-life, I mean, not according to some "definition". Simon's calzone sure looked a lot like my Stromboli.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjfOM0xcXckSJnhXgTTSH2kfMhnnjticJGhsnsR6XXsSuCO6qzTe_PHCoerziFn7dC4g4GpRCjjyg2EG0iomT96KFYHABWc80gg6_FdOgO5dXcCCTnDJbgUiRfkxmQN7J_XYzLPopqJaCW1GF8LG-ZYZokcjcbBJrpxLO_h9tvNKgHbPsZBMzUOLko4Rw/s4032/IMG_8554.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjfOM0xcXckSJnhXgTTSH2kfMhnnjticJGhsnsR6XXsSuCO6qzTe_PHCoerziFn7dC4g4GpRCjjyg2EG0iomT96KFYHABWc80gg6_FdOgO5dXcCCTnDJbgUiRfkxmQN7J_XYzLPopqJaCW1GF8LG-ZYZokcjcbBJrpxLO_h9tvNKgHbPsZBMzUOLko4Rw/w240-h320/IMG_8554.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoA9jW_i87J9wzxsjf2st3IhFs4_VSgnMS3koNCti-uEiVGT50uwbzERYPtmyJTjxRUG-zkvtDQuob-OklbkOqSZcjOkSuWcxhEd1GmXZ5eu_1MsAmnUClpjt42J61YeSiPqQejRFOG3x9C2SRZb4V3UtxEUBAIFX_VJxJp-D73hGx5g9DzQCkcSK_Bws/s4032/IMG_8555.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoA9jW_i87J9wzxsjf2st3IhFs4_VSgnMS3koNCti-uEiVGT50uwbzERYPtmyJTjxRUG-zkvtDQuob-OklbkOqSZcjOkSuWcxhEd1GmXZ5eu_1MsAmnUClpjt42J61YeSiPqQejRFOG3x9C2SRZb4V3UtxEUBAIFX_VJxJp-D73hGx5g9DzQCkcSK_Bws/s320/IMG_8555.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before and after<br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div>After dinner, Stick and I picked up our packets, got our drop bags ready, and aimlessly wandered around camp while Simon his best to help us out. My friends Tanya and Clay came over for a while to hang out for a while which was great. After listening to Simon play his guitar softly for a few minutes, it was time for bed.</div><div><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWoPEBqGmvfcD88dZH894KoCcy6AUfDnUc2Ne5787KWKyaQL6EARnb-tv5DyBFDK6Bb3P7YT1vu4bjSebi2Ix8euSGWBst76E3nXmDdwaLwQ3kyvjr7R4HLOOYba_gI8uIcD7DJemjcd445cdW6r42djj25TeDJcbHBYC2PGol1QSGn_z6cHxuTLUJ8PU/s4032/IMG_8560.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWoPEBqGmvfcD88dZH894KoCcy6AUfDnUc2Ne5787KWKyaQL6EARnb-tv5DyBFDK6Bb3P7YT1vu4bjSebi2Ix8euSGWBst76E3nXmDdwaLwQ3kyvjr7R4HLOOYba_gI8uIcD7DJemjcd445cdW6r42djj25TeDJcbHBYC2PGol1QSGn_z6cHxuTLUJ8PU/s320/IMG_8560.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgN65pbn_sHsv74aKpmYp-rmR09fKQWwzcF9F6HIUNK2EqwTk4Euhi2kZSJeGgRGeZlKdn6LM-TSZkInDqAvrtHXSbRwfOj4z6oBahGv-C10-GJLsPd8hmBgPB5TRVmPTo8CqkkMmipYRmFaBq8rPIfEuZIochCgLMbcQt1Dol8eS3hYm4Da7lqXo-z4/s4032/IMG_8563.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgN65pbn_sHsv74aKpmYp-rmR09fKQWwzcF9F6HIUNK2EqwTk4Euhi2kZSJeGgRGeZlKdn6LM-TSZkInDqAvrtHXSbRwfOj4z6oBahGv-C10-GJLsPd8hmBgPB5TRVmPTo8CqkkMmipYRmFaBq8rPIfEuZIochCgLMbcQt1Dol8eS3hYm4Da7lqXo-z4/s320/IMG_8563.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mixing up the Flow Formulas; Simon on guitar<br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></span></td></tr></tbody></table>Since the race starts at 6:30 AM, we set the alarms for 5:00 AM. Simon had his pop-up camper, which had extra beds for me and Stick, meaning it would be a little easier night's sleep than crawling in and out of a tent. We debated on what song to use for the alarm, and we thought we settled on a solid 80s rock song.<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I was awoken by what sounded like Teletubbies or some other toddler's show. Turns out, it was just Simon's alarm. I guess he didn't choose the right song after all. It's always great to start off the day with a laugh though, and I even have a smile on my face now while writing this, so in the end I guess the toddler song was maybe the best.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcV8IilgPs2PbCTsV6lXiq5BKi0KKq2sbC8yhZg44aZgaun9p9m5JdTnFdz9GLLOAbercyvfDFs9HAuJiAlOS4c8umC1WYTWfMEMjrdrV_e9RW_b-GtcPtHgN2KxwctlAEFiEOm-zplRS026zKqjCMJx-nEJlT4ZACbNG_doxQ-nYhtxZIfDg-bzXRRTc/s1954/IMG_8581.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1954" data-original-width="1170" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcV8IilgPs2PbCTsV6lXiq5BKi0KKq2sbC8yhZg44aZgaun9p9m5JdTnFdz9GLLOAbercyvfDFs9HAuJiAlOS4c8umC1WYTWfMEMjrdrV_e9RW_b-GtcPtHgN2KxwctlAEFiEOm-zplRS026zKqjCMJx-nEJlT4ZACbNG_doxQ-nYhtxZIfDg-bzXRRTc/s320/IMG_8581.jpg" width="192" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me about 5 minutes after I woke up</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Even though he wasn't racing, Simon got up at 5:00 AM with us and immediately went to work helping us out as best he could. Seriously, Simon is the best. He made us coffee, held a light whenever we needed it (still dark outside), and was just all around the best friend you could ever ask for on race morning.</div><div><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZdxEDEFXRhMl96NPSslKGBVIs-EE_qziFwPaAaep5x2sNOHW3pH1lragiKLkxdaotU2BEjwFKlA9O0XiJyuIsDqjQjup8fqYDJ89OOhQ7Y6PCcJ4oLrAZ0q5dZyGOvKKj-ZKX-VuCs3HQMbv2YxaQlvFB5vBPIq0VqKdumnfqUK-ffjgJOSrRoBDz_7E/s4032/IMG_8567.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZdxEDEFXRhMl96NPSslKGBVIs-EE_qziFwPaAaep5x2sNOHW3pH1lragiKLkxdaotU2BEjwFKlA9O0XiJyuIsDqjQjup8fqYDJ89OOhQ7Y6PCcJ4oLrAZ0q5dZyGOvKKj-ZKX-VuCs3HQMbv2YxaQlvFB5vBPIq0VqKdumnfqUK-ffjgJOSrRoBDz_7E/s320/IMG_8567.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZAxNSAiPWDKZgIZT13ytUuSJAL_VgV1C99o57SjDocxDO06oXA8k6x2wPSQXRXjZafHbWNdP87G7cxSQmLg0mrVwmqQFqYfDJYRypWdxC0PPuP3e6vuzK9PvF8kfvQEozLxkdlBOMyMOzsZmStKdadSoikn0bUuYI6Avxg3JRxnqGyF4vbAhOZra0ofs/s4032/IMG_8570.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZAxNSAiPWDKZgIZT13ytUuSJAL_VgV1C99o57SjDocxDO06oXA8k6x2wPSQXRXjZafHbWNdP87G7cxSQmLg0mrVwmqQFqYfDJYRypWdxC0PPuP3e6vuzK9PvF8kfvQEozLxkdlBOMyMOzsZmStKdadSoikn0bUuYI6Avxg3JRxnqGyF4vbAhOZra0ofs/s320/IMG_8570.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Race morning in the camper... Simon being the best friend ever!<br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></span></td></tr></tbody></table>With Simon's help, Stick and I were were ready to roll. There was a cluster of riders near the start line, and I couldn't really tell where the actual start line was. By some luck, I found Jimmy K. and lined up next to him. I guess I was in the front race, which is nice, but also not nice, because I'd be hiking up part of the first climb.<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Chris, the race director, had some final words to say and then the race started. I had a fairly good start, but of course, when we reached the hike-a-bike, it didn't matter. I kept it fairly steady, and I could see teammate and friend Joe F. just. behind me on his singlespeed.</div><div><br /></div><div>As I was hiking, I came upon my friend Ian on the side of the trail taking some videos and yelling to racers. Like I said, I was hiking my bike at the time, so a little heckling from Ian was to be expected. Usually Ian crushes the Shenandoah race, but since he's in the middle of the collegiate MTB season, he wasn't able to race this year. I'm pretty sure he actually won his collegiate race later that day.</div><div><br /></div><div>For a while, I kept looking back and seeing Joe F. right behind me. As we hit more hike-a-bikes, I think I was able to just walk a little bit faster or ride just a little bit more, because by the top, there were no other singlespeeders in sight. I knew Joe is a really strong rider though, so I was careful not to ease off the pace too much.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwwKs2rb7eMQRrLJ6JyvEN5pOhOzfu2a1U1yZUYC29nXV-I9vaTFKzppAOoViTTLR3Cbe-qOhOVLTZIGGChL-7uuFaVrMlfM7OO__Avh0F5khr6ScdRpWLCn9FmNmInnshQ773ynWq1jE5Al_XLI1Sk8KlGEuu1CPOTxMRwyT_Pqu2fb4LAkUsTyGp-iQ/s2048/Shenandoah100Miles_DSCF7684_Duhaime.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwwKs2rb7eMQRrLJ6JyvEN5pOhOzfu2a1U1yZUYC29nXV-I9vaTFKzppAOoViTTLR3Cbe-qOhOVLTZIGGChL-7uuFaVrMlfM7OO__Avh0F5khr6ScdRpWLCn9FmNmInnshQ773ynWq1jE5Al_XLI1Sk8KlGEuu1CPOTxMRwyT_Pqu2fb4LAkUsTyGp-iQ/s320/Shenandoah100Miles_DSCF7684_Duhaime.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSXX6x-RENY7wst6UqH2ePpd7XrQ7jfFHF-L_RCXaaRXXUGeQ3iFHWePoBo8kB5OfKpIyLh_jeHX6Ls7RnMa2N7-BvAdY5_YZGMQyEXrWuKRgI6LDo6vxM4TjKin4yTa8ytK8_uo2QHTEJh1NDmqR7br_21yXaH0yrMDcUXzYSM8YWMTHH-hMPLY2cTrY/s2048/Shenandoah100Miles_DSCF7686_Duhaime.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSXX6x-RENY7wst6UqH2ePpd7XrQ7jfFHF-L_RCXaaRXXUGeQ3iFHWePoBo8kB5OfKpIyLh_jeHX6Ls7RnMa2N7-BvAdY5_YZGMQyEXrWuKRgI6LDo6vxM4TjKin4yTa8ytK8_uo2QHTEJh1NDmqR7br_21yXaH0yrMDcUXzYSM8YWMTHH-hMPLY2cTrY/s320/Shenandoah100Miles_DSCF7686_Duhaime.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My roadie skills didn't stack up, or perhaps I was in a group of roadies<br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div>The first descent was Lookout Mountain trail, a fairly rocky and technical descent which I had actually raced before back in 2021. My tailbone was still pretty sore from an oopsie the previous weekend, so I took the descent a little more cautiously than usual. Despite that, the trail was still a blast and I stuck with the riders bunched up ahead of me.<br /><div><br /></div><div>For the first hour or two of the race, I was feeling extremely good. The climbs felt easy, and despite not averaging much more than 10mph due to the terrain, I was optimistic about how I'd feel the whole day.</div><div><br /></div><div>The first major climb (as if the two 800+ footers weren't major enough) was a 2,000 foot slog up Hearthstone. </div><div><br /></div><div>When we reached the bottom of the climb, I was in very good spirits. I was singing out-loud to myself, smiling, and overall having a great time. Even though the climb was really hard, and I had to hike-a-bike for a lot (most?) of it, it was still really fun. At the top, I caught up with Anthony F., who I'd spend lot of the day with, and we rode the next big downhill together.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was still feeling really good after that climb, and I thought my luck would continue for a while. That was not the case. By around mile 40, I wasn't feeling quite as great. It was getting warmer, and the thought of 60 more miles and around 7,500 more feet of climbing was daunting. </div><div><br /></div><div>I thought about what Simon said to me, "just keep moving forward". I won't be overdramatic and say that saved my race or anything, but I did honestly think about that as I kept racing forward.</div><div><br /></div><div>Even though I was suffering, the trails were so amazing that it basically made me forget about the pain. I love Virginia and I love Appalachian riding, and since these were mostly new-to-me trails, every new mile was exciting.</div><div><br /></div><div>The second big climb of the day came around mile 55, which was Hankey Mountain. It was a little under 2,000 feet from bottom to top, and since I'd raced that climb before during the Stoopid 50, I vaguely knew what to expect: more pain.</div><div><br /></div><div>For a while, it was steep enough that it hurt, but not steep enough that I had to get off and walk. In a way, those are the hardest climbs, because at least hiking gives you a little break.</div><div><br /></div><div>That all changed once the fire road turned into singletrack at the top. It became way too steep for me to ride, and it was time to hike. I suffered a lot, but I've done enough of these kind of races now that I think I've grown at least partly numb to it.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next downhill was another banger. Anthony F. and I were still together, so following his line down the trail was great. It was a very long downhill that led all the way to an aid station at the bottom of the Death Climb, the next big climb.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo4ObmiJM-pQ2ilTsUFTUs6ez9mfqdrJ-x1U6R5fXp-AkUofskOsxsx0IcobZme7BfnBPD56HoxXtCDEXisIoRb8klXlpxDEPdyVBf4S8giV_-Xu8c05JEN2DPSIdjrURb3-KpeB_VgSF9VgFkmENBSDU4qzwI-zgXINqxO7tcDUR0oSwixcv1PqSoK2g/s2048/Shenandoah100Miles_DSCF8270_Duhaime.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo4ObmiJM-pQ2ilTsUFTUs6ez9mfqdrJ-x1U6R5fXp-AkUofskOsxsx0IcobZme7BfnBPD56HoxXtCDEXisIoRb8klXlpxDEPdyVBf4S8giV_-Xu8c05JEN2DPSIdjrURb3-KpeB_VgSF9VgFkmENBSDU4qzwI-zgXINqxO7tcDUR0oSwixcv1PqSoK2g/w393-h261/Shenandoah100Miles_DSCF8270_Duhaime.jpg" width="393" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><div><div>I was pretty blown out at the aid station. I knew it was going to be a struggle to get to the finish line while still riding hard, but I also knew for a fact I was going to finish, so my only option was to keep riding and take it as it comes.</div><div><br /></div><div>The gradual miles of climbing after the aid station flew by, and the steep part of the Death Climb wasn't as terrible as I feared. I'd actually ridden some of the Death Climb before back in January of 2021 with Will. There was snow and ice on the road and we were on gravel bikes, but still, it was cool to recognize a road for a change.</div><div><br /></div><div>The aid station near the top of the climb was much appreciated, but there was no time to stop for long. I quickly refilled a bottle and set off on my way with Anthony. The next section of the climb has a few names for it. I've heard it called the "endless fields", and I've also heard it called less politically correct names that I probably shouldn't use. Either way, it wasn't nearly as bad as I expected. Before long, I was on top of the Death Climb.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know I've said a lot of trails are "awesome" or "the best", and Dahn Pahrs actually just called me out on this via text, but this time I mean it, I swear: the descent off of the Death Climb was fantastic. It was rugged, had great views, and being near the end of the race meant you could almost smell the finish line BBQ. Well not quite, the finish was 15 miles away, but it felt like the end was near.</div><div><br /></div><div>I knew after the descent there was only one climb left. Except for the other 300 foot climb I forgot about. So there were two climbs, oops.</div><div><br /></div><div>The first short climb was easy, the second climb: not so much. We started up Hankey Mountain a second time, but this time, luckily, we only went halfway up. Instead of following Hankey all the way, we turned onto a trail that would take us back to the finish line.</div><div><br /></div><div>Even though it was now a net-downhill to the finish, a few punchers made it so it wasn't all coasting to the end. Either way, I was having a lot of fun at that point and I was just praying I wouldn't get a flat or some other stupid mechanical so close to the finish. The miles ticked down: two, one to go... and I finally let myself believe that I was going to get the singlespeed win.</div><div><br /></div><div>Coming down into the campground was a very happy moment for me. The amount of pleasure I feel at the end of the race is directly related to how hard a race was, and since this was extremely hard, I was extremely pleased. </div><div><br /></div><div>I ended up finishing in 10 hours 3 minutes, good enough for 9th overall and the SS win. The course was 100 miles with 14,700 feet of climbing, quite stout. Immediately after finishing I went for a swim in the creek, both to cool off and to clean off. Phew, that was hard. And hot.</div><div><br /></div><div>In fact, the course ended up being a lot harder than most people expected, and because of that, only 36 of the 200 or so racers finished the full 100 miles. A lot of people had to be diverted onto a shortened course, or else they wouldn't have finished before dark.</div><div><br /></div></div></div></div><div>As if the day wasn't great enough already, Stick got 3rd place SS just behind a strong riding Dan G. I never doubted for a second that Stick was going to have a great race, and all the climbing played into his strengths. Nate W. finished with a strong 4th place SS on what was without a doubt the hardest edition of Shenandoah 100. To be fair, this was my first Shenandoah, but I've heard that said by enough people to believe it's true.</div><div><br /></div><div>The post-race affairs were a lot of fun as always. I talked to the overall 100 mile winner, Ethan, for a while. Super nice guy and obviously a hammer of a rider. The BBQ was very nice as well, and sharing the podium with Stick was a perfect ending to the race day.</div><div><br /></div><div>Since Simon went home to see his kids, Stick and I set up our hammocks at the campsite that night. We saw the Starlink satellites going across the sky in a perfect line, a trippy sight, and then settled in for a not-so-great night of sleep. It's not that a hammock is bad, but I never usually sleep too great after a hard day of racing.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next morning, Stick and I packed up and headed home, deciding not to go out for a bonus Stokesville ride. Doing a ride the day after the race sounds like a good idea, but after a 10-plus hour race, it ends up not being as enticing as it first sounded.</div><div><br /></div><div>The breakfast we had in Moorefield off of Highway 48 was one of the more welcome breakfasts I've had in a while, and despite being tired, it's always a great time driving with Stick. Once I got home, I pretty much just laid on the couch the rest of the day, unable to do much else. If that's not a sign of a great weekend, I don't know what is.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know everyone is hoping that's where this blog post ends, and it almost is, but I want to add just a couple things.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is probably the most satisfied I've been with a race in a while. I felt great, I didn't make many mistakes, and the race was hard enough that it felt extra satisfying. Plus, spending the weekend with friends was fantastic.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyone who knows me knows that I'm easily excitable. I'll ride a new trail, immediately exclaim it's the best trail ever, and then say the same thing about another new trail I ride the next week. The same goes for races. I loved the Shenandoah 100. Was it my favorite race ever? Was it the hardest NUE race? The more I think about it, it's sort of a dumb thing to say anyways. There are so many variables that make a race "hard" or "great". That being said, it's gonna be pretty hard to change the excitable way I think, especially when I've just finished a race and emotions are high. I think you're all just gonna have to deal with me mindlessly exclaiming that this or that is the best ever.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOtSTiCuZ7ZTc5qnqYD0VHxw5FnS5n-Ua0jB29jM9o0RHcLQNnJDR2U1Y8Ub1WaZSIoXFHO4OPfnxK7fVll4SYcuLwQGi0fZIOXEeFdpQv1wdxS6iqyxi7BfXyLi1gEI0IwWfA1pUefZU_9qorN61V3HXAojrSMtmx2p_0PPG-LF8ovgAWttJ2np95_oY/s4032/IMG_8571.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOtSTiCuZ7ZTc5qnqYD0VHxw5FnS5n-Ua0jB29jM9o0RHcLQNnJDR2U1Y8Ub1WaZSIoXFHO4OPfnxK7fVll4SYcuLwQGi0fZIOXEeFdpQv1wdxS6iqyxi7BfXyLi1gEI0IwWfA1pUefZU_9qorN61V3HXAojrSMtmx2p_0PPG-LF8ovgAWttJ2np95_oY/s320/IMG_8571.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-51812526522055963432023-08-28T08:30:00.002-04:002023-08-28T08:30:48.170-04:00Breck Epic 2023 Part 2: PARTY PARTY PARTY<p>Alright, so maybe it wasn't all party, but it was pretty dang fun.</p><p>Picking up where I left off, it was now time for stage three. This is the day I crashed on last time, so in the back of my head, I just wanted to finish this stage strong. There's nothing particularly crazy in terms of danger about this day, but still, I was getting in my own head. Luckily, all those feelings immediately go away when I put my leg over the bike on the start line.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSlO--uMUwWjc--jSs4D3N6dUHE9I_ZHk8wjyMDqu8COWShwl0mGKX83iplZ839YOdRAwFlNO-AqBM9GxYwfkwrIM8nTVqDgOpB8LdXIhxWf-BKUn4Z81q0CwS9hwchZoxp5sDIiRtQexiRhan9z11JlGQ1e_FYtInXYPk9iJba6GMxSrXaBBkXjYSrpE/s1170/IMG_8387.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="859" data-original-width="1170" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSlO--uMUwWjc--jSs4D3N6dUHE9I_ZHk8wjyMDqu8COWShwl0mGKX83iplZ839YOdRAwFlNO-AqBM9GxYwfkwrIM8nTVqDgOpB8LdXIhxWf-BKUn4Z81q0CwS9hwchZoxp5sDIiRtQexiRhan9z11JlGQ1e_FYtInXYPk9iJba6GMxSrXaBBkXjYSrpE/s320/IMG_8387.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Pittsburgh (plus Ohio) singlespeed gang on Boreas Pass. One of the best memories ever.</td></tr></tbody></table><p>I don't want to over-hype this stage, but to me, stage three is certainly the hardest day. I kept this in mind as we rolled out of the start line, and I did well managing my effort on the first long climb. It was mostly rideable with only a little hiking, which meant I stayed in good position going into the big climb up French Pass.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p>Unlike the first climb, French Pass is not very rideable. Once you read the open meadow part of the climb, it's about a 50/50 mix of walking your bike and riding it. Before long, you reach the hardest part of the climb which is entirely hiking, even for most geared riders. I saw Justin ahead of me on the hike a bike, but the air is thin at 12,000 feet and I didn't have the energy to close the gap.</p><p>At the top of the climb, I took a shot of Mezcal before continuing on my way. The descent is fairly technical, although compared to what we have in Rothrock in central Pennsylvania, it isn't too crazy. There's one steep chute that requires a little attention, but other than that, it's a fun ripper off the pass back down below tree line.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIleJnQOLBpSiIysso9Ahe0yvG8qYxSP-X-DKTO51y8Nf9mBb89daIhiyUKkMUhj311kOBczjrsmvoBEbs7PTLtIpOoWD7U0YtbfnSmhmjXRHddmNlwIYvswvvhqU7p77Nwkx0o_gdV0vGo5Q9vi3LmpUGNWwK3a7ZOR4YRI7IdRQzhInvN2JllDzH-h0/s1226/IMG_8472.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="817" data-original-width="1226" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIleJnQOLBpSiIysso9Ahe0yvG8qYxSP-X-DKTO51y8Nf9mBb89daIhiyUKkMUhj311kOBczjrsmvoBEbs7PTLtIpOoWD7U0YtbfnSmhmjXRHddmNlwIYvswvvhqU7p77Nwkx0o_gdV0vGo5Q9vi3LmpUGNWwK3a7ZOR4YRI7IdRQzhInvN2JllDzH-h0/w421-h280/IMG_8472.JPG" width="421" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The downhill off of French Pass</td></tr></tbody></table><p>To me, the hardest part of the stage is the next climb: Georgia Pass. It's a gravel road, and not particularly steep, but the combination of being extra high elevation (climbing to 12,000 feet) and being 30 minutes long really takes a toll on me. Of course, if I was just riding for fun, it might not be so bad, but trying to race hard really cranks up the pain. I vividly remember back in 2021 suffering up this climb, and 2023 was no different. </p><p>The pay-off for the miserable climb, however, is an awesome technical descent on the Colorado Trail. I'll admit, it's actually pretty technical even compared to trails in Rothrock, and it's definitely one of the most fun descents of the week. Since I'm used to rocks, I was able to ride hard and pass a few people on the way down.</p><p>After the descent was another long slog of a climb, but since it was lower elevation it wasn't quite as bad. The rest of the stage sort of blends together to me, but being in Breckenridge, there's no such thing as a bad trail. When we got to the section I crashed on last time, a dirt road with big water bars on it, I took it extremely slow (well, not <i>that</i> slow, but slow compared to my other descents) and safe. It worked, I didn't crash, and I finished the stage once again in second place. The GC standings for singlespeed were now seeming a little more solid: Justin was about 10 minutes ahead of me in first, and I had a lead over Josh in 3rd.</p><p>Stage Four is Aqueduct, and to a lot of my friends, an unpleasant day. Well, maybe not unpleasant, but just not their favorite. After doing the stage, I have to say it far exceeded my expectations. There was some brutality - like Vomit Hill - but for the most part, the stage was pretty rideable and very scenic. </p><p>The crux of the day was a looooong climb that I thought was going to be a boring gravel road the whole way. After a couple miles of gravel, and chatting with some of the awesome pro women who I saw on the climb, the route turned off onto a rough doubletrack. I was extremely happy, to say the least, and the rest of the climb flew by. I felt great, the doubletrack was great, and the views were great. It was all great. </p><p>The climb would've been reward enough for me, but the next downhill was the icing on the cake. It was a high speed blaster - my Garmin says I hit 29mph several times on the straightaway sections of singletrack - and I've rarely had more fun on a bicycle than I had on that descent. Sometimes the combination of being in a race, being tired, and seeing amazing views combine and I get a euphoric feeling. This descent was one of them, for sure.</p><p>The rest of the stage went by fairly quickly and without much to note, and once again, I finished the day close behind Justin. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi01iBf9jafgE5z9r5TB6xMIsEcYndLpA_KKCdZFCzDapcCfV7sRauanyfkKNL3Ab5aG_U5izCcdAnBeqxdoxJEjSTJuYxJ0ziPx1xvETEGKD4DttGWC9LyOQIpSQ6MNXQHjFrX3g1VKslcnreGf8z5rue5y3Qx-9CvK2pTfi7jdABtCevxSweU_5aMgB4/s4032/IMG_6610.JPEG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi01iBf9jafgE5z9r5TB6xMIsEcYndLpA_KKCdZFCzDapcCfV7sRauanyfkKNL3Ab5aG_U5izCcdAnBeqxdoxJEjSTJuYxJ0ziPx1xvETEGKD4DttGWC9LyOQIpSQ6MNXQHjFrX3g1VKslcnreGf8z5rue5y3Qx-9CvK2pTfi7jdABtCevxSweU_5aMgB4/s320/IMG_6610.JPEG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Podium!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Going into stage five, Wheeler Pass, the singlespeed GC standings were pretty much settled. I just had to not crash in order to hang onto 2nd, and barring a miracle, I wasn't going to gain 14 minutes on Jutstin.</p><p>Unlike other stages, Wheeler Pass is a wave-start, with groups of 10 riders going off together based on the previous day's finishing time. Luckily for me, I finished only 90 seconds behind Justin on stage four, so I was able to start with Justin on stage five.</p><p>We were the third wave to go off, and when we started, Justin and I immediately sprinted to the front of our group. The first trail of the day, Burro Trail, was all rideable for singlespeed, so Justin and I rode hard on that trail and passed quite a few people. </p><p>Before long, we reached the hike-a-bike, which was no ordinary hike-a-bike. It was going to be over 1,200 feet of hiking, all the way up to Wheeler Pass at over 12,500 feet. It was nice to still be with Justin, and since neither of us could really attack on the hike, we just hiked together at a brisk pace and chatted along the way.</p><p>Eventually, after lots of lots of pushing our bikes - and a little riding after the first false summit - we reached Wheeler Pass and the fireball shots. Cosmo Cummens saw me approaching, and he immediately called out to me: "Hamburgers!"</p><p>I smiled and pointed to him, before grabbing the shot of fireball. It looked a little small, so I had the other guy dump another shot in for me. Perfect. Another guy came running over to offer me a shot of beer, which I also took, and then I was on my way. Justin kindly waited for me and took a video of the whole situation, which was pretty cool.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHG3ueKESNcIC7ihsJltdWmzcjf-abyKHulVwmZTZcMAiUGU4E3k1wUjA5T-q7PQ2B00hI1W5I6p0e5NWgfdyxOCTVkrH2KU7Em8NW3YZtqzYRvPw4Zv_DV9NQTqS_U0EYRCCgL6QEeknfICKErsBl6qnsjclFp69CowVKBp5Q1g24EIL9YG2zwmxB8cw/s1776/IMG_8483%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1776" data-original-width="1170" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHG3ueKESNcIC7ihsJltdWmzcjf-abyKHulVwmZTZcMAiUGU4E3k1wUjA5T-q7PQ2B00hI1W5I6p0e5NWgfdyxOCTVkrH2KU7Em8NW3YZtqzYRvPw4Zv_DV9NQTqS_U0EYRCCgL6QEeknfICKErsBl6qnsjclFp69CowVKBp5Q1g24EIL9YG2zwmxB8cw/w272-h412/IMG_8483%202.jpg" width="272" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cosmo with the fireball hand-up!</td></tr></tbody></table><p>The next few miles of riding are stunning. Without a doubt, it's my favorite section of the Breck Epic race. The first downhill off of Wheeler Pass is chunky, scenic, and ear-to-ear smiling the whole time. The nice warm feeling from the fireball shots boosted the mood even more.</p><p>Before long, we were on to the second major climb for the day: the hike up to Mount Gawddamnit. It was aptly named by none other than Dicky many years ago, at least according to legend, and as the name suggests, it's pretty difficult.</p><p>Since Justin and I were still together, and since neither of us could really make an attack on that section of trail, we dialed back the pace a little bit and just cruised along the alpine trails. It's not like we were going super easy, but we weren't exactly blasting. Honestly, that was fine by me, because attacking on a hike-a-bike is pretty futile, especially since it seemed like Justin was pretty fast at hiking.</p><p>The climb actually went by pretty fast, and before long we were at the top of the biggest descent of the week. Starting at 12,500 feet, this descent was bound to be gnarly. The terrain above the tree line is rugged, rocky, and unforgiving, and as fun as it is, it poses a lot of risk. I knew Justin is a great descender, so I knew it was going to be a fast descent. He asked me how comfortable I was with nose pivots around switchbacks, which definitely set the expectations for what the descent would be like.</p><p>Sure enough, the descent was the most fun and most technical descent all week. There were tons of tons, tons of high speed sections, and tons of loose turns. Being above tree line meant there was some exposure, and the difficulty of having to pass people on the way down made it all the more exciting. Luckily, I was able to keep up with Justin the whole way down, and we flew past the aid station at the bottom still together. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1uwT21jbLFhhY_YB4SHllQ33CJOgheOYqbsTU3jvYxHxqVqYErwvH5zMkw-yQSpspU8eX_qVVQGbad2HK_yhuia0fkz3r-ORE1IepOqfOcDBD5eLDIKPZwklh2XP8_Jo-1VjG3qfAVhktrB_3s8jb39h6eFg6aKPSBTTcoDwU5fc4TwfAoB_UP6-Rtw4/s1024/IMG-20230817-WA0004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1uwT21jbLFhhY_YB4SHllQ33CJOgheOYqbsTU3jvYxHxqVqYErwvH5zMkw-yQSpspU8eX_qVVQGbad2HK_yhuia0fkz3r-ORE1IepOqfOcDBD5eLDIKPZwklh2XP8_Jo-1VjG3qfAVhktrB_3s8jb39h6eFg6aKPSBTTcoDwU5fc4TwfAoB_UP6-Rtw4/s320/IMG-20230817-WA0004.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Going past aid two with Justin</td></tr></tbody></table><p>With only one more trail left - Peaks Trail - I just wanted to hold on to Justin and not lose any more time. I didn't have the energy to put in an attack on the trail, so we both sort of decided to ride together to the finish. We had some good conversation, ripped some fun trail, and finished stage five just as we had ridden the entire stage: together.</p><p>After five days, I was now still 14 minutes behind Justin. The last day was the party day for the singlespeeders, and since making up 14 minutes on that relatively easy stage was near impossible, I decided to have fun and party. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFsgqzXGomhp683IPvZVq4mmBzouOIJeFEMeeFF5Id8dta2YZpY-0ExRoS6PWQkC7ZqsGgNUaeT-K3zcloYAAPJ1LoeYR-ASAGPHFrXOQAdmYAVsVyRlh3gwglNkeEGmdWBk0zmRKMzEe9pb6wR9pQcDto7d5fp6dy9-sOtDg-AQG0NOGx20GwYPPVE78/s4032/IMG_8329%202.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFsgqzXGomhp683IPvZVq4mmBzouOIJeFEMeeFF5Id8dta2YZpY-0ExRoS6PWQkC7ZqsGgNUaeT-K3zcloYAAPJ1LoeYR-ASAGPHFrXOQAdmYAVsVyRlh3gwglNkeEGmdWBk0zmRKMzEe9pb6wR9pQcDto7d5fp6dy9-sOtDg-AQG0NOGx20GwYPPVE78/s320/IMG_8329%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Start of stage six</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Preparation for stage six was a little different than other stages. I brought along a nice cocktail of Flow Formulas and Tito's in one of my bottles, and brought my phone along for a change to have some music while riding. Us singlespeeders rearranged our start waves to all start together, which meant me, Dahn, Montana, Josh, and Blaine all started together. We saw the the SSer, Taylor, at the start line, and he told us he'd see us out on the course.</p><p>The party began right from the start. Montana had music playing on his speaker and we party-paced it up the first climb. It was a really fun way to end the week of racing, and I was glad I joined my friends on the last day.</p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhegxCg3mHmWbIERZ_4-k1yQA6-fxrQw_WM5vKa44Y2dkt7OF8ohLcg27-vdSxC5iXdNsx3mFW1EKyo4SSOWcPHvwMc1JdOXxpORUcTr_lM9k2T6gBWgg3BFYSzu4UADbBzamZfHxNBHp_PflvUMLFdFw55cWPcTt9wbZkuErkfz3WWWvIvsd4EfB8YxKw/s4032/IMG_8334.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhegxCg3mHmWbIERZ_4-k1yQA6-fxrQw_WM5vKa44Y2dkt7OF8ohLcg27-vdSxC5iXdNsx3mFW1EKyo4SSOWcPHvwMc1JdOXxpORUcTr_lM9k2T6gBWgg3BFYSzu4UADbBzamZfHxNBHp_PflvUMLFdFw55cWPcTt9wbZkuErkfz3WWWvIvsd4EfB8YxKw/s320/IMG_8334.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCT7BLQdp4rivWvAuJsyaFfJw6bFESzDIHwLkQjWWA08lvZ1u_XwU3ZcNxQR36k7XBhI3m8xpAiDHEzoA-Y9eJYdlZ7QlHCzvul6pdfYbGiO5dMV-Xdhw6kVTIZs7KP4U-RkDh0lnhWIw99nUmjI297ET8FSycSI0xw1CSRSUM6bthNAvo1XU1zpu1A-8/s4032/IMG_8336.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCT7BLQdp4rivWvAuJsyaFfJw6bFESzDIHwLkQjWWA08lvZ1u_XwU3ZcNxQR36k7XBhI3m8xpAiDHEzoA-Y9eJYdlZ7QlHCzvul6pdfYbGiO5dMV-Xdhw6kVTIZs7KP4U-RkDh0lnhWIw99nUmjI297ET8FSycSI0xw1CSRSUM6bthNAvo1XU1zpu1A-8/s320/IMG_8336.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't take selfies often, but when I do it's with great friends and great views<br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;">When we reached the aid station at the top of Boreas Pass, we all chugged a PBR before continuing on our way. Dahn, of course, substituted that for some fireball, he doesn't do beer. Sad.</div></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p>The Gold Dust downhill was fun, and made even more fun by the beer and Flow Formulas cocktail. I think I paid the price for the partying a little bit on the next climb, but it was worth it, and I made it back up to Boreas Pass for aid station two. We all had another PBR before making the final push to the finish, which was all downhill. Josh was battling in the enduro competition, so he set off to rip the downhill while the rest of us finished our beers.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpfeHoteDQp_iqq0n-bv8ZfG7_Il__uamdaKuzjLONxLaklfwEN-Bll7ZnspU2-2h4N3B5d4mOglTNzq85HqSWYsb8L9-myNwwQjNtnhBA5mYm44pmQkn0-bz9NBVRQno2gAg70hQibn_jnmV-LrWOmGS2olzbyUCIeW-ozEZinCJSXyk4arUiuR5Y2Wg/s1170/IMG_8404.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1155" data-original-width="1170" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpfeHoteDQp_iqq0n-bv8ZfG7_Il__uamdaKuzjLONxLaklfwEN-Bll7ZnspU2-2h4N3B5d4mOglTNzq85HqSWYsb8L9-myNwwQjNtnhBA5mYm44pmQkn0-bz9NBVRQno2gAg70hQibn_jnmV-LrWOmGS2olzbyUCIeW-ozEZinCJSXyk4arUiuR5Y2Wg/s320/IMG_8404.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just some singlespeeders on Boreas Pass</td></tr></tbody></table><p>The downhill was pretty difficult for me, what with some brain haze and all, but it was so incredibly fun that it didn't really matter. I think I was laughing for most of the downhill, and I can hardly think of a time when I had more fun. I made a sketchy (for me) pass on Dahn, and I cruised across the finish line in 3rd. I didn't really care about the results, but I still sort of wanted to at least get 3rd for the day, so that was nice.</p><p>At the finish line, I had a few more celebration drinks and cheered on the rest of our friends. Colleen held onto 3rd place in 30+ women for the week, which was awesome!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIsRoYP0c1KBARHGHmpbdh_jnkDMdsGR5AmpRoI-k3eIZM0SRCuOeS_0gtlY8jfgl4qRQAwPdP1NxCOIrohS3wWroFyvWLECQEhRc3c4eV-JWN5wTK3OIpejKrX02KW47Ub-PCc4Db9Nn259Fw1SqFlD3iwyKnPWafL-fSQ9jo3tmGYmMaZawT-zU7Q4w/s1080/5B129F5F-50CD-4593-B9A2-34789C31C046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="813" data-original-width="1080" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIsRoYP0c1KBARHGHmpbdh_jnkDMdsGR5AmpRoI-k3eIZM0SRCuOeS_0gtlY8jfgl4qRQAwPdP1NxCOIrohS3wWroFyvWLECQEhRc3c4eV-JWN5wTK3OIpejKrX02KW47Ub-PCc4Db9Nn259Fw1SqFlD3iwyKnPWafL-fSQ9jo3tmGYmMaZawT-zU7Q4w/s320/5B129F5F-50CD-4593-B9A2-34789C31C046.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Montana spraying water on me</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Now that stage six was over, stage seven was about to begin. What is stage seven, you ask? It's a party, with all the things you'd expect a party to have. It sure would be exciting to write a lot of details about it, but to be honest, what happens in stage 7 stays in stage 7. I'll keep it brief.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEildVwIim4TDb6_53GYemsLjQkOaJA3Oz6Vg090MWlr-hZRzPV_fXSIkfi6yPODKFhFLSjqGQkTOPeSWjt-7aHFwOvXFbCQoTWuYOQcje_kN1aUM6YRyrhK8JWyJOYQaNrU5gYBtZWJen9Il-93ANkZ6GW4l46o-NHr8-NcY4vK-MA7oUpdi8mSV9Zip1w/s2090/IMG_6767.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1568" data-original-width="2090" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEildVwIim4TDb6_53GYemsLjQkOaJA3Oz6Vg090MWlr-hZRzPV_fXSIkfi6yPODKFhFLSjqGQkTOPeSWjt-7aHFwOvXFbCQoTWuYOQcje_kN1aUM6YRyrhK8JWyJOYQaNrU5gYBtZWJen9Il-93ANkZ6GW4l46o-NHr8-NcY4vK-MA7oUpdi8mSV9Zip1w/s320/IMG_6767.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The final podium (L to R: me, Justin, Josh, Dahn)</td></tr></tbody></table><p>We went to the banquet, had some drinks, went to the "official" Breck Epic party in the hotel, had some drinks, and then went off to the Goldpan bar in downtown Breckenridge to have some more drinks. Montana was chasing me and throwing pinecones at me all the way to the Goldpan. It was a good night. I made it back to the AirBNB eventually, which was a success, and got a solid hour or two of sleep in before packing up and leaving the next morning.</p><p>The drive home was as expected, although getting a bonus hotel stay with Rob, Chrissy, and Montana in Columbia Missouri on the way home was certainly nicer than sweating in my car all night at a rest stop. I've done that drive enough times now that there aren't many surprises, you just keep driving and driving and driving until you get home. It's a little boring, but it's an easy drive. </p><p>I'd say Breck Epic 2023 was a big success. I'm really happy with 2nd place singlespeed, and getting the belt buckle after missing it in 2021 was a huge relief to me. Are there things I'd do differently in the race? Looking back, I honestly can't think of many. It was all great. Spending a week with cool friends racing cool trails in a cool area is cool. It's all cool, you know?</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmUPOdr-DQKGbGsY3313pPSPbBPvUhiHPCTq0DtyApwun8wLYkL-0moe1HLsEaHiDzcS4agZtPPLnIRWrmQy6RJrq_5jThxbZhCYAe4G-WBNxYoN72bOXBye-tsHFv9nKbBhFYoqgcEmmIobKk3DEkat4gdulj6Xx2gkXQIO92tQKpoqLRz-G5GpCr1ls/s4032/IMG_8373.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmUPOdr-DQKGbGsY3313pPSPbBPvUhiHPCTq0DtyApwun8wLYkL-0moe1HLsEaHiDzcS4agZtPPLnIRWrmQy6RJrq_5jThxbZhCYAe4G-WBNxYoN72bOXBye-tsHFv9nKbBhFYoqgcEmmIobKk3DEkat4gdulj6Xx2gkXQIO92tQKpoqLRz-G5GpCr1ls/s320/IMG_8373.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking into the Goldpan</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-73495121579156258922023-08-22T09:53:00.003-04:002023-08-22T09:53:13.595-04:00Breck Epic 2023: The Pre-Amble and First Stages<div>The Breck Epic has became one of the ultimate Pittsburgh singlespeed traditions. For years now - dating back to 2010 with Montana - singlespeeders from the 'Burgh have been pilgrimaging out to Breckenridge to suffer for six days of epic racing. I first went out in 2021, but a big crash on stage three forced me to pull out of the race with a DNF. It was one of my biggest regrets - especially since the crash was extremely stupid - so going back this year was particularly meaningful to me. As always, we had a fantastic group of people going out and staying in our AirBNB. I really mean that, I look forward to hanging out with everyone just as much as I do racing.</div><div><br /></div><div>Before I get started with Breck, I do want to briefly talk about the week leading up to the race. I know, I know, I tricked you with the title, but you're going to have to deal with a few paragraphs of general road-trip stuff before you get to the Breck stuff. Or you can just scroll down, it's all the same to me.</div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEgh6mqX6ltmikESZPFcTV0Th58sTvMimpdhJH-MBtN0qzw6E4ZFqq9r9zymDouQIlWkuvZmrBO3ntJhSWUbUnmztw42rGCaskbfLnMAnr3mC8tHEVy5VsUmD1z-fkAtxGNoD2its_sLB62PYfgFPAwi15h6bH_zvLc-cTNBceScwVtCm3WEyUuFCxZp4/s1600/IMG_8271.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEgh6mqX6ltmikESZPFcTV0Th58sTvMimpdhJH-MBtN0qzw6E4ZFqq9r9zymDouQIlWkuvZmrBO3ntJhSWUbUnmztw42rGCaskbfLnMAnr3mC8tHEVy5VsUmD1z-fkAtxGNoD2its_sLB62PYfgFPAwi15h6bH_zvLc-cTNBceScwVtCm3WEyUuFCxZp4/s320/IMG_8271.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Race photo!</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After leaving Durango on Sunday, I had a few days to myself to relax in Colorado. Since I was only doing easy rides to prepare for the Breck Epic, I had a lot of time to unwind at camp and check out cool towns. Very different from how I usually travel, but it was actually very fun for a change.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">First up after leaving Durango was Silverton. I found a free campsite just north of Silverton and got my camp all set up by noon, which left me with the rest of the day to just do nothing. Bueno. I set up my hammock and maximized relaxation. It was a pleasant campsite, even if the temperatures did get down into the low 30s. The next morning, my car battery was dead, but luckily a fellow camper nearby let me use his portable car jump-starter, and I was on my way.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After Silverton, I drove further north to Ouray, along the Million Dollar Highway. The views were incredible, and I'd recommend that drive to anyone.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5V7a1kfYwOTjyln9wD596phUug2RQdycVgYBaKT3-SwQhAPjHhndx6ky_FrdSDWV6WWp084QkYW-NqjGOE1PegV4UH7ZU34lWTv1YxqhVxg31_sx_qyu3SDE2g2BvpyYOWnbV6T3dpCCgn2SbfKnphsY18OwHqsmwOGl6IeP0-ikrjP1BV9YEi61E0A/s4032/IMG_7809.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5V7a1kfYwOTjyln9wD596phUug2RQdycVgYBaKT3-SwQhAPjHhndx6ky_FrdSDWV6WWp084QkYW-NqjGOE1PegV4UH7ZU34lWTv1YxqhVxg31_sx_qyu3SDE2g2BvpyYOWnbV6T3dpCCgn2SbfKnphsY18OwHqsmwOGl6IeP0-ikrjP1BV9YEi61E0A/w185-h247/IMG_7809.HEIC" width="185" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUNPrOGaFQlTkfIqy3lynJGs3mgTqs1_TWve7Jti9BY4BGGwFTfTp0TkabhsC_49baDx1lzAgnx0irhZ73FwxXhSbUcykU0jkNR-biRju4uHuDgieVcsUqoZxND0jg38hKhIfUo2fHcmW2NNUSln1ByBa6MZrT-hP5T1d1xApyjqQQzCApsJEDvqBLHCU/s4032/IMG_7917.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUNPrOGaFQlTkfIqy3lynJGs3mgTqs1_TWve7Jti9BY4BGGwFTfTp0TkabhsC_49baDx1lzAgnx0irhZ73FwxXhSbUcykU0jkNR-biRju4uHuDgieVcsUqoZxND0jg38hKhIfUo2fHcmW2NNUSln1ByBa6MZrT-hP5T1d1xApyjqQQzCApsJEDvqBLHCU/w186-h248/IMG_7917.HEIC" width="186" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoNezaiU8CJZ8bTolD0pB1DwaqbfbP43tbvfPiY8ZXwqmaIvkB2KEiQXi-nkiAfqZwpk2CLx8mhvMzBpvV8UagU46gAn9SjY9qmTUO1NXTF5raYTAvjW-9tyPVl9pCsWwa8cBN_Ahk-NMJF9ZBIWvfmKogg-uOgy9s-KxLFmwAMpLOpwNOv5qpgsSgOts/s4032/IMG_7930.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoNezaiU8CJZ8bTolD0pB1DwaqbfbP43tbvfPiY8ZXwqmaIvkB2KEiQXi-nkiAfqZwpk2CLx8mhvMzBpvV8UagU46gAn9SjY9qmTUO1NXTF5raYTAvjW-9tyPVl9pCsWwa8cBN_Ahk-NMJF9ZBIWvfmKogg-uOgy9s-KxLFmwAMpLOpwNOv5qpgsSgOts/w187-h248/IMG_7930.HEIC" width="187" /></a></div><i>Downtown Silverton, Downtown Ouray, cactus on the trails near Ridgway</i><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After Ouray, I continued driving north to Montrose, and then Ridgway, where I went out for an easy ride on some desert trails. There wasn't much to note about the ride (except for the awesome views of course, but those are par for the course) until I saw a completely naked runner coming right at me. Luckily, he covered up his privates and seemed a little embarrassed, but it was a strange sight nonetheless. To make it even more weird, those trails seemed very popular: not the place to go running in the nude.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0k8PEsqUVLyMW7SqSz9Fz4JlsEUh1i-n5zBgqgQHScEa9BPArHqsUqDoBuhN5XA2ZxmQgxoqp24sxKRvJvjp_j9lkfSFXE_3ZKlfUt1KPYan3adhzgwJhieM-YfZRXy903tblE8gHGv5b2IE-n2-wT2iZTHMo2IGplt_qdKZEQrzQ0Z8lY-ctLahd8F4/s4032/IMG_7945.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0k8PEsqUVLyMW7SqSz9Fz4JlsEUh1i-n5zBgqgQHScEa9BPArHqsUqDoBuhN5XA2ZxmQgxoqp24sxKRvJvjp_j9lkfSFXE_3ZKlfUt1KPYan3adhzgwJhieM-YfZRXy903tblE8gHGv5b2IE-n2-wT2iZTHMo2IGplt_qdKZEQrzQ0Z8lY-ctLahd8F4/w179-h239/IMG_7945.HEIC" width="179" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiugdEgnHu2dv5vlGk--n_QdYLPeLG-ccm0C82u_mVuJui_i9czHSQqoIUKhkEUm4H5H6xPDPxjr8j7n2oxBooRu71hjpe_aPeS5uC5VvPeS0owvdRMIwrWWCbLsbn8cYXG_W22ox5KjlD7XtV4V53bpH-zIszP7J3uX8R7j0n85QVgR2v2iAguPSYkmQw/s4032/IMG_7985%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiugdEgnHu2dv5vlGk--n_QdYLPeLG-ccm0C82u_mVuJui_i9czHSQqoIUKhkEUm4H5H6xPDPxjr8j7n2oxBooRu71hjpe_aPeS5uC5VvPeS0owvdRMIwrWWCbLsbn8cYXG_W22ox5KjlD7XtV4V53bpH-zIszP7J3uX8R7j0n85QVgR2v2iAguPSYkmQw/w176-h235/IMG_7985%202.HEIC" width="176" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi56hkRQSqVSlTs4NOWjW5BpbdYoFD13KJIvWJdFIFi_8aSENxPHzLQdvwOUuTdRP9CEftBY3AV3YmGi1Tt3GyzRUF3ViSktpeB5mCibyUnVwwaeWJEdj9lGa4bai1Qa7jdbcNL1lZCPmBRjRUf-xjDq4nH-qshFOC9ICWptKrYKdaEPhTadAYv1V3hsJs/s4032/IMG_8008.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi56hkRQSqVSlTs4NOWjW5BpbdYoFD13KJIvWJdFIFi_8aSENxPHzLQdvwOUuTdRP9CEftBY3AV3YmGi1Tt3GyzRUF3ViSktpeB5mCibyUnVwwaeWJEdj9lGa4bai1Qa7jdbcNL1lZCPmBRjRUf-xjDq4nH-qshFOC9ICWptKrYKdaEPhTadAYv1V3hsJs/w177-h236/IMG_8008.HEIC" width="177" /></a></div><i>Camping in Crested Butte; riding in Twin Lakes; camping in Twin Lakes</i><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After the ride, I continued driving east on US Highway 50 toward Gunnison. There was major construction on the highway, but after almost an hour of standstill traffic, I started moving again toward Gunnison. Before long I was in Gunnison, and then I turned north toward Crested Butte. I found a free campsite in Crested Butte - along a super rutted and rocky dirt road - and set up camp.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The next day I drove to Twin Lakes, just south of Leadville, to do a ride. On the way, I got a speeding ticket, my first ever, going down Cottonwood Pass. I won't lie, I was speeding - 57 in a 35 - but it was at the very bottom of the pass on a straightaway right as it flattened out. It was the ideal speed trap location.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Riding in Twin Lakes is what I imagine the 1/2 mile of singletrack in the Leadville 100 to be like. Of course, that makes sense, because it's only like 10 miles south of the town of Leadville. After the ride, I found another free campsite off a forest road, and settled down for the evening.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A fellow camping near me came up to me to tell me a black bear had been rummaging through peoples' camps recently. As luck would have it, I was planning to sleep in my hammock that night instead of my tent, which meant I was extra exposed to Mr. Black Bear. I thought about it for a second, and decided I was fine with being in my hammock, what are the odds of a bear coming up to me? I was right, no bears got me in the night.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBhBbZ_6XyD2k2tASZhQ8507gJ95iPiP0GZBNoAgake7N_crK6ygvBJ-Lkeafp7gdUns9JhdhtPwuJlBIC65ifUkEfUX2gJavSvFyXm--DtZhnGw16WI4LVH8VBpZsfOGoHVxrZJgW8RzRIkS-pD2pKiA66af1ru8pZaOORKFcDdXUb6_OJj4JHfJWqPA/s4032/IMG_8036.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBhBbZ_6XyD2k2tASZhQ8507gJ95iPiP0GZBNoAgake7N_crK6ygvBJ-Lkeafp7gdUns9JhdhtPwuJlBIC65ifUkEfUX2gJavSvFyXm--DtZhnGw16WI4LVH8VBpZsfOGoHVxrZJgW8RzRIkS-pD2pKiA66af1ru8pZaOORKFcDdXUb6_OJj4JHfJWqPA/s320/IMG_8036.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pre-riding with Chris and Dan</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><br /></div><div>The next day, Wednesday, I drove through Leadville on my way to Breckenridge. Leadville is a small town that isn't nearly as fancy as other mountain towns, and aside from being home of the Leadville 100, it probably isn't as touristy as other places. I arrived in Breckenridge in the late morning, just in time to go out for a ride with Pittsburgh friends Chris and Dan.</div><div><br /></div><div>I always love meeting up with people from Pittsburgh across the country, and riding with Chris and Dan was no exception. I got dinner with them that evening and spent some time chatting back at their AirBNB. It really was a great time, and to cap it off, I found a sweet campsite to sleep at off Boreas Pass Road. It was a clear night, and it was some of the best stargazing of my life.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next day, I did another great ride with Chris and Dan, pre-riding the starts of stages two and four. We stopped at a dredge off of French Gulch Road, the first dredge I've seen (or at least remember seeing), and got some pictures. It's pretty crazy how much the dredges changed the landscape of the area, and seeing it still standing 100 years after it was built is pretty neat. The whole valley is filled with massive piles of rocks, dumped there by the dredge as it moved along the creek and searched for gold.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After another great night of camping on Boreas Pass Road, the rest of the Pittsburgh crew was only hours away. I did some writing in the morning, a little sightseeing, and then went to the AirBNB to meet up with Rob, Chrissy, Montana, and Colleen.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The five of us headed out for a ride that afternoon, going up Boreas Pass Road to Baker's Tank and taking singletrack back down to the ice rink. I don't know all the trail names, but Aspen Alley is always a fun descent.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1pnckFiuenGL02xrkm-wiveP5iC022fFUACwZmAQJwJcbvhxZCNz_1FbEU2tegRW3JZgBdO5mEIwzTYm-olhl0j0R1VYMdSu1U3fnHqOM6TbP6gOWKqiVlAUzTItDVcdIhZLw-DqLHnXx9gLgFiDmft3C3r07wNWpdJY7uvjyAC-4gfa2HhWPTLwtFAg/s4032/IMG_8027.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1pnckFiuenGL02xrkm-wiveP5iC022fFUACwZmAQJwJcbvhxZCNz_1FbEU2tegRW3JZgBdO5mEIwzTYm-olhl0j0R1VYMdSu1U3fnHqOM6TbP6gOWKqiVlAUzTItDVcdIhZLw-DqLHnXx9gLgFiDmft3C3r07wNWpdJY7uvjyAC-4gfa2HhWPTLwtFAg/s320/IMG_8027.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHRzSSGNQS42qQBN16it-b_Qv1XybqdR80QMWWxAgImFXUfHwyCzIdYJKvgiHx35mDZ8ct_0mKQi29_wvS0xeDW2J_JfsuOYviv_2-xsfQj24H6i9o1Qa7slUzbnzeLaAQZUOYoHJ763vbF-15XFXsNT345y-GEXjCuKUiyGKKSKC2ctc3Oz-T7xZebhQ/s4032/IMG_8020.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHRzSSGNQS42qQBN16it-b_Qv1XybqdR80QMWWxAgImFXUfHwyCzIdYJKvgiHx35mDZ8ct_0mKQi29_wvS0xeDW2J_JfsuOYviv_2-xsfQj24H6i9o1Qa7slUzbnzeLaAQZUOYoHJ763vbF-15XFXsNT345y-GEXjCuKUiyGKKSKC2ctc3Oz-T7xZebhQ/s320/IMG_8020.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moose and troll, both at the ice rink in Breckenridge<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When we got back to the AirBNB, Dahn Pahrs was waiting for us. He had a lot shorter drive than the rest of us, coming from Park City, but a late-night flight home the night before meant he wasn't able to get to Breck until later in the day. It started raining shortly after he got there, so I guess he made the right decision not going out for a ride.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHaLIKyM8gOA1u--FuidTAwXhstChvgguqPHTFz7MUjcAueYahFskA_y4m-5GDvN9VT2DtqThitcuGHvJoaNu7j-PigllttZxBr4N0Z8LM_TF1XSl_zOAzdo5bWByd27hSZM-dZtd_onnlipLdjViS61pdkYxLfOQUGmBiqKVzn2BNqS88HRP1J26SiFs/s4032/IMG_8224.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHaLIKyM8gOA1u--FuidTAwXhstChvgguqPHTFz7MUjcAueYahFskA_y4m-5GDvN9VT2DtqThitcuGHvJoaNu7j-PigllttZxBr4N0Z8LM_TF1XSl_zOAzdo5bWByd27hSZM-dZtd_onnlipLdjViS61pdkYxLfOQUGmBiqKVzn2BNqS88HRP1J26SiFs/s320/IMG_8224.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhYgJJP76RygfmZ4pPSpmDC7kGt3-yBnfj-Ga76s-j_af-z1PK85GUFBmATp8S6wwQfs876SDS3MQ2qZbUCVGH_tswUexwjDzhqTNPVnyJhV2FzQ9jO2u6GhWoa_NgjdpEKlRj3HIEirkn8Z4CYdzOTKUIFJ_XY6X-i9dss6XFsXeC-2rno-upvc09jko/s4032/IMG_8192.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhYgJJP76RygfmZ4pPSpmDC7kGt3-yBnfj-Ga76s-j_af-z1PK85GUFBmATp8S6wwQfs876SDS3MQ2qZbUCVGH_tswUexwjDzhqTNPVnyJhV2FzQ9jO2u6GhWoa_NgjdpEKlRj3HIEirkn8Z4CYdzOTKUIFJ_XY6X-i9dss6XFsXeC-2rno-upvc09jko/s320/IMG_8192.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scenes from the AirBNB (Dahn struggling with his back)</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The AirBNB always provides lots of funny memories. Of course, Dahn's back pain isn't necessarily funny (especially since my back was giving me some trouble during the week as well), but seeing him rolling around on the floor is pretty funny. Jenga is also pretty funny. The not-so-funny thing was that Dahn was sick, but luckily (spoiler alert) none of us got sick during the race. Of course, I'm sick now as I'm writing this, but it's all good.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgzXDkuAWfVyZoOFlfSOYc12jONLn30gh3hEPArJhoOUFX2QQ9VBeiF4l91c2YPNaE_Mh9as1XsjnOmdDeYdmH7jf5xkKenA9UkJBxr874B484eRTdLbP4OP5Qa-Dj37D-XpYtQm4pJ2fLLxc-euOuZl6acdRnG7mYbiHvtS0_f4G2BpSeL_0dO_9MxrU/s4032/IMG_8215.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgzXDkuAWfVyZoOFlfSOYc12jONLn30gh3hEPArJhoOUFX2QQ9VBeiF4l91c2YPNaE_Mh9as1XsjnOmdDeYdmH7jf5xkKenA9UkJBxr874B484eRTdLbP4OP5Qa-Dj37D-XpYtQm4pJ2fLLxc-euOuZl6acdRnG7mYbiHvtS0_f4G2BpSeL_0dO_9MxrU/s320/IMG_8215.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-LFYoUcm6w9Slns_YLcW1P2fmMvsVNfb1sjK4pmtkc5VN7wHmY687hdJzNlVuk8LWr_WKSoZbvFeUjkg7SdlBFzD2XzTFj02Rb58--qECSjAJYUE3PbLNSD7RkNwz7LfQsyQpfTgo1KQ6_rbhxN-vxm1NGCqrd_GQRgx32R4HmJwXkyS8DLxG5aVrL2U/s4032/IMG_8213.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-LFYoUcm6w9Slns_YLcW1P2fmMvsVNfb1sjK4pmtkc5VN7wHmY687hdJzNlVuk8LWr_WKSoZbvFeUjkg7SdlBFzD2XzTFj02Rb58--qECSjAJYUE3PbLNSD7RkNwz7LfQsyQpfTgo1KQ6_rbhxN-vxm1NGCqrd_GQRgx32R4HmJwXkyS8DLxG5aVrL2U/s320/IMG_8213.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pre-ride with the full crew<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">On Saturday the full-full crew got out for a ride. Even a couple of Dahn's friends from Utah who were doing the race joined us. Montana led the way, and we did a great sampling of trails. We rode the last few miles of stage one, including the not-so-fun switchback climb and the very-fun downhill to Carter Park. It was bueno.</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSmfBQHakG1ggjFkRtTuKRXfnhRQLKlfOG7lYKQWeG-zMw-5PtSwFOblNg8zZXyoXGqb9kSavwjkLG6j8votPLSDWokPIetZjncK2O7cCfRwMqAqG0giQB0IPJQrJ70VgKzhXxS_W72AC1E4skLTz1Cvn3vB4lvJ9pTteV2n0Ej6IvViNfNjeOX089IqM/s4032/IMG_8234.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSmfBQHakG1ggjFkRtTuKRXfnhRQLKlfOG7lYKQWeG-zMw-5PtSwFOblNg8zZXyoXGqb9kSavwjkLG6j8votPLSDWokPIetZjncK2O7cCfRwMqAqG0giQB0IPJQrJ70VgKzhXxS_W72AC1E4skLTz1Cvn3vB4lvJ9pTteV2n0Ej6IvViNfNjeOX089IqM/s320/IMG_8234.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqU2jmfvdGOXeygYuPH7WKbPeCKE1WGBK-rNfMqjv2i0Ix0hTHSLpYBKcK7yLbtFFPXs1-AL84JOOh3UzrB8DF2oC-4AbIO56k6r2BwmJGAotgcj2b1sNKv2U0Krp5hovK_V1hKu3Vyf_FNOvjAL9vmfEHGJ-bEFlY9-VSYVEb_Ag8lExDZCt3yjgQ0Gg/s1176/IMG_8241.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1176" data-original-width="987" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqU2jmfvdGOXeygYuPH7WKbPeCKE1WGBK-rNfMqjv2i0Ix0hTHSLpYBKcK7yLbtFFPXs1-AL84JOOh3UzrB8DF2oC-4AbIO56k6r2BwmJGAotgcj2b1sNKv2U0Krp5hovK_V1hKu3Vyf_FNOvjAL9vmfEHGJ-bEFlY9-VSYVEb_Ag8lExDZCt3yjgQ0Gg/s320/IMG_8241.jpg" width="269" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">There was the racer meeting Saturday evening, followed by last-minute preparations back at the AirBNB. I was feeling pretty ready to race, but definitely just a little bit nervous. I think mainly because I DNF'ed last time, I was feeling the pressure to get the belt buckle this year.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">At last, Sunday morning came around and it was time for stage one. Rather than blowing myself up on the first climb like in 2021, I started off more conservatively. Justin got a gap on me on the opening climb, but I decided not to try and chase him down. It was a long week, I told myself, and I wanted to stay fresh.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">My plan of conservative pacing seemed to work. I felt really good the whole day, and never once felt like I was on the verge of bonking. I was able to hit all the climbs hard, conserve energy on the flats, and rip the downhills fairly quickly. When I got to the last climb that I had pre-rode the day before, I still had a lot left in the tank and I was able to pass a few people. Crossing the finish line in Carter Park, I was tired but not destroyed. I finished in about the same time as I did in 2021, but I felt a million times fresher. That gave me hope for the days ahead. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The only downside was that Justin finished nine minutes ahead of me, but even so, I think it was worth it to not blow-up on day one.</div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUZgEI61cJalxQwzCYX5W0TAfk1xRH8odPh7NzRaDt0ZwJSXE1hi24dVaPR8O1zfgbXD0D4uTrbLeLL_4qNvLyEeFwbvi-zG-Vu85MBFd0CACOf-9xr825Hu2yFP8AndgVsw3swN2hd-fk75ILOYNE2K1Yo72AmdWQR0ZZX8fqiq0xWqlwaTFH9fmzTeY/s4032/IMG_6590.JPEG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="334" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUZgEI61cJalxQwzCYX5W0TAfk1xRH8odPh7NzRaDt0ZwJSXE1hi24dVaPR8O1zfgbXD0D4uTrbLeLL_4qNvLyEeFwbvi-zG-Vu85MBFd0CACOf-9xr825Hu2yFP8AndgVsw3swN2hd-fk75ILOYNE2K1Yo72AmdWQR0ZZX8fqiq0xWqlwaTFH9fmzTeY/w444-h334/IMG_6590.JPEG" width="444" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day two podium!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I felt extremely good going into day two, and I was hoping I could keep the gap to Justin from growing any more. The starts are pretty chaotic, especially since Justin started way at the front with the pros/race leaders. I started at the front of the main peloton, but still, by the time I tried to work my way up to Justin at the front, he was already too far ahead for me to catch before the opening climb narrowed and I got pinched off.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That's just the nature of racing, and there's nothing I can do, but it is a little disheartening to start behind the person you're trying to catch. Of course, there's no denying that Justin was stronger than me, and he would've for sure beat me no matter where I started, but I do wish I was at least able to ride with him up the opening climb. If I really put in a big effort, I probably could've caught him, but to me, I thought it was more important to save energy at the start, because trying to catch Justin would've meant spending way more energy than Justin was spending. Just to emphasize again so it doesn't seem like I'm complaining: Justin was stronger than me, plain and simple. No excuses for losing, and that's final.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anyways, the actual race on stage two went very well for me. I felt incredibly strong, and when we started up the biggest climb for the day - the Colorado Trail - I got an extra surge of energy. Last time, I walked a ton of the climb, but this year, I cleaned the entire thing except for a small pitch at the very bottom. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Toward the top of the climb, I saw Justin ahead of me walking with his bike. I yelled out to him and he looked back at me, before hopping back on his bike. By the top of the the climb, I had caught him and we rode together into the descent.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Justin is a really fast descender, but luckily, I'm not too much of a slouch myself, so we stayed together for the whole downhill on the Colorado Trail. We took risks, we railed the turns, and we passed a few people on the way down. It was incredibly fun! Justin was the first person in the race who I didn't have to pass on a descent, which was extra exciting. Just to note, though, that plenty of the racers at the front of the race would obliterate me on the downhills. It's just that compared to the people typically around me - a degenerate singlespeeder - I can hold my own on my descents.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We stayed together for the next climb after the big descent, and even though I was suffering, I had enough to stay with him. My luck ran out, however, by the following climb. We got to a steep punch on a gravel road, and I didn't have the strength to stay on my bike. Justin kept riding while I got off and walked, and I never saw him again.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I kept on the gas as best I could for the rest of the day, but I was definitely feeling my efforts earlier in the stage. To my surprise, I ended up finishing only 20 seconds behind him. Even though I got dropped, I finished the day about as well as I could've hoped, and I was totally satisfied. To make things even better, I was about 14 minutes faster than my time in 2021, even with a new singletrack addition to the stage. I think my plan of being conservative on day one was pretty smart. I was able to get a big gap on 3rd place, Josh, for the day, which meant I was now fairly comfortably in 2nd place.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Well, I think that's enough for this one. Next post I'll do the rest of the stages, plus the party stage, and maybe throw in some extra deep thoughts. Stay fresh.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p></div>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-23020470362744469522023-08-11T12:41:00.006-04:002023-08-11T12:45:04.081-04:00Durango With the Family<div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Unlike most of my road trips, this time I’m staying completely in one state: Colorado. After a few days in Salida, I was off to Alamosa (a little over an hour south) to meet up with my family. It was a nice change of pace to sleep in a hotel room and eat at a restaurant, and meeting up with my family halfway across the country is always fun.</span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><br /></span>The first real destination for the family trip was the Great Sand Dunes National Park. Zach and I were determined to do a ride from the park, so we set off on a dirt (well, actually, sand) road toward Medano Pass. It ended up being a lot more challenging than anticipated, and we had to hike quite a bit in the sand. After airing my tires down to about 10 or 12 psi, I was able to ride a little bit more, but there was still a lot of hiking. Thankfully, the road got more hard-packed as went along and we were able to ride most of it as we approached the pass itself. The road kicked up quite a bit – probably around 20% grade – and I had to briefly get off and walk. That being said, I surprised myself with how much I was able to ride, especially at nearly 10,000 feet elevation.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHyAx2Wb3owXnjrp-u-OFkND3rWQTUCyIlR9D3KlWp5nMZepbXiaXq4WztVPmSVqgRDkzT6XVftRbjxpzr1jQ3U6w7xpM2mnWMdBVSjdQv8gmf9TSP6QsLttkd_S8yfNdcsOinC_CUsfgd4NBus8zvJyay_Qu_e938bVE9hpHTi0KVB10BKVRiMQxs46Q/s4032/IMG_7658.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHyAx2Wb3owXnjrp-u-OFkND3rWQTUCyIlR9D3KlWp5nMZepbXiaXq4WztVPmSVqgRDkzT6XVftRbjxpzr1jQ3U6w7xpM2mnWMdBVSjdQv8gmf9TSP6QsLttkd_S8yfNdcsOinC_CUsfgd4NBus8zvJyay_Qu_e938bVE9hpHTi0KVB10BKVRiMQxs46Q/s320/IMG_7658.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Patch of snow just below Rolling Pass, a good cover picture</td></tr></tbody></table><div><o:p> <span><a name='more'></a></span><br /></o:p>Once reaching the pass, we took some pictures and turned around to ride right back the way we came. It was a fast descent until we hit the sand, where the hiking one again commenced. It seemed like more hiking on the way back, but I think some of that was just because I was getting a little tired of the sand at that point.<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>After the ride, my whole family went for a hike on the sand dunes. It was tough and slow hiking, with every footstep seemingly only moving you an inch forward as the sand gave way beneath you. Nonetheless, we kept going, and got about halfway to the top of the tallest dune before stopping for a while. The sandy peak in the distance looked pretty miserable to get to, but before long, I had convinced myself I had no choice but to go for it.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqYx3-OMcwlBPKg5XccBncZ2VHL5Og2ZyowQBz0xeUNd6HbvVNc9WuKxRHkRVOt_bQNAzyUHyJdbnOb6V-YPxPphb8Cg5M19q2F3a9Ngs7PpjaW8kk485hwn7P-Eyyig7FKaa--7BDDVhuYU2zGPua4Qf92FZ_vIVGq6YJrkCDRvoKKnUqaqOKjof0UpU/s4032/IMG_7290.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqYx3-OMcwlBPKg5XccBncZ2VHL5Og2ZyowQBz0xeUNd6HbvVNc9WuKxRHkRVOt_bQNAzyUHyJdbnOb6V-YPxPphb8Cg5M19q2F3a9Ngs7PpjaW8kk485hwn7P-Eyyig7FKaa--7BDDVhuYU2zGPua4Qf92FZ_vIVGq6YJrkCDRvoKKnUqaqOKjof0UpU/s320/IMG_7290.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOvgdB09P5DlUJk6yO9NIAjiUm3rCtg5MpdlK9S6vd-7At25KyU6i52_LQvspZx-o5vlIwd9siR-5-Jvh0LVlKanPQXi-CqUG4ItDgUqY5EW5qV_PPY8w5Z5sEqb24mxSWhXPujKnp1akM-nLTpVyVb82quRLgt1F8XjTrM2ENTGnSxPOQFIDcFP05VGA/s4032/IMG_7285.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOvgdB09P5DlUJk6yO9NIAjiUm3rCtg5MpdlK9S6vd-7At25KyU6i52_LQvspZx-o5vlIwd9siR-5-Jvh0LVlKanPQXi-CqUG4ItDgUqY5EW5qV_PPY8w5Z5sEqb24mxSWhXPujKnp1akM-nLTpVyVb82quRLgt1F8XjTrM2ENTGnSxPOQFIDcFP05VGA/s320/IMG_7285.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sand dunes!<br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;">My brother reluctantly agreed, as did my dad, and we set off. My brother’s girlfriend Kiera quickly decided she didn’t want to be left out, so she joined us. It was a grueling hike to the top, and I tried to make myself suffer a little bit just for good measure, but we got there. The views were great, but the way back down was even better. The sand dunes were incredibly steep, but because of how soft the sand was, you could run full-speed down the dunes without a huge risk of falling.</div></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><o:p> <br /></o:p>After a relaxing night at a lodge just outside the national park, we set off for Durango the next morning. It was a very scenic drive through the mountains, and we passed through the town of Pagosa Springs along the way. It reminded me a lot of the alpine terrain in northern New Mexico, which makes sense, since Pagosa Springs is super close to New Mexico.<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>Once in Durango, me, my brother, and my dad went out for a ride. The first trail I took them up had a minor amount of exposure, and it didn’t sit well with either of them. That didn’t bode well for the rest of the ride. After a long climb to a ridgetop, the route took us onto a double-black diamond rated trail across the ridge. My dad decided to take a different way down, but my brother reluctantly (extremely reluctantly) came along with me. The exposure wasn’t that bad, but the combination of extremely technical trail and being somewhat close to the edge of a cliff meant that it wasn’t ideal for someone afraid of heights (Zach). I think the ridgetop trail took a few years off Zach’s life, but after a substantial amount of hiking, he made it through to the other side. I told him the experience makes him stronger, but he doubted me.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1xmWYs8ildDlkjkNNGX6ybDeMDFXx9ioIrprq6BRklW5pDp2RSigPDnhvSgw7i68mbnKju7zZCHZTiyPnkILFl4aWDzPyTmmRHDZ3OTCIfrs-XooonvzRlGdfNf0Ru0Uny4_tj33Ej6FpyekP-gcs_RwmwSLy2nouW01wk2APat8W8VILLYPABEDxbxQ/s4032/IMG_6050.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1xmWYs8ildDlkjkNNGX6ybDeMDFXx9ioIrprq6BRklW5pDp2RSigPDnhvSgw7i68mbnKju7zZCHZTiyPnkILFl4aWDzPyTmmRHDZ3OTCIfrs-XooonvzRlGdfNf0Ru0Uny4_tj33Ej6FpyekP-gcs_RwmwSLy2nouW01wk2APat8W8VILLYPABEDxbxQ/s320/IMG_6050.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great views from the cliffs</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br />We checked into our AirBNB after the ride, which was a large house just outside of town. It was far too big for the five of us, but it was all that was available when it came time to book.<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>I carefully planned the first big ride that Zach and I would do the next day, routing us through Purgatory Resort on a nice loop. The first trail on the route was Hermosa Creek Trail, a gradual climb along, you guessed it, Hermosa Creek. We got hit with some rain near the end, but it was extraordinarily beautiful. We took some more trail to Purgatory Resort, before climbing a long fire road up to the top of the mountain.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlgrKkXDUabSWkS9sOwAcU5GN6HzXCPp4fX-iDebKCK5z8V6J7-l4Y84DfYrBElcYXseAMSPauu1ifih5Slr5E8PVHonBquFx9XM4jml9Fs7ah0eE4FwfCQcwTb3l7RvYx4IMzoxRlPWrwOcHR1RhOc9gNHx2f7igwttYeSEKHIcSP6JKqDiuTPascEaI/s4032/IMG_7365.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlgrKkXDUabSWkS9sOwAcU5GN6HzXCPp4fX-iDebKCK5z8V6J7-l4Y84DfYrBElcYXseAMSPauu1ifih5Slr5E8PVHonBquFx9XM4jml9Fs7ah0eE4FwfCQcwTb3l7RvYx4IMzoxRlPWrwOcHR1RhOc9gNHx2f7igwttYeSEKHIcSP6JKqDiuTPascEaI/s320/IMG_7365.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdP1d9VEh84ciOwXepifiqdGvZtY0OugfammzeqWZjnQgsCRTGzS1LEZ9TTlUO2sYewFfuDZMQvKNVuHBQj2zkJPSHTLaSwEf4e-oWlxY6Yb4KLBAmgUY4O0QGKlEvDrQBCg8ZYRWPp53pjPt_uou-CfrHAto9Hzrh1kiKifnMwSRTMFBs3AJwVIKtLkA/s4032/IMG_7394.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdP1d9VEh84ciOwXepifiqdGvZtY0OugfammzeqWZjnQgsCRTGzS1LEZ9TTlUO2sYewFfuDZMQvKNVuHBQj2zkJPSHTLaSwEf4e-oWlxY6Yb4KLBAmgUY4O0QGKlEvDrQBCg8ZYRWPp53pjPt_uou-CfrHAto9Hzrh1kiKifnMwSRTMFBs3AJwVIKtLkA/s320/IMG_7394.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great views along Hermosa Creek<br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Next up was a long descent back to Hermosa Creek called Dutch Creek Trail. It was a fast, steep, and technical descent through pines and aspen. We even saw some free-range cows at the top of the trail. </div></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><o:p> <br /></o:p>My mom rented a bike, so that day, my mom and dad went out for a ride on some of the trails near town. It was my mom’s first ride on a full suspension, and I think she’s spoiled now. She'll get used to her hardtail again back in Sewickley, though.</div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8zcNUjRrIp3vsZJJ4JMQoj7bP_C4EmGN9QgEeb7uFuI_7t_8JDp3L1n91BjCBJBnankRSr4ekWSe7RcVfHhFVn6JXERvjO7iMoyz3fkoHLDSLt6QUERfBddS3YJ0WI-z-yRlPs7fDgSZ4p5t9fE0XgQWmyGPjqdK-TQdb4aXfPDZPapqX0tpCBzZlqGI/s4032/IMG_9829.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8zcNUjRrIp3vsZJJ4JMQoj7bP_C4EmGN9QgEeb7uFuI_7t_8JDp3L1n91BjCBJBnankRSr4ekWSe7RcVfHhFVn6JXERvjO7iMoyz3fkoHLDSLt6QUERfBddS3YJ0WI-z-yRlPs7fDgSZ4p5t9fE0XgQWmyGPjqdK-TQdb4aXfPDZPapqX0tpCBzZlqGI/s320/IMG_9829.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A good picture with Zach and my dad on Animas Mountain<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>The next day we left from the house to ride up Animas Mountain. My dad joined us, and immediately, we were met with a brutally steep 1,500 foot climb. I stopped at the intersections on the trail to make sure no-one got lost, but other than that, I was able to ride the whole climb with 32x22 gearing. At the top, there were some phenomenal views, substantial exposure, and technical riding. Bueno, bueno, and bueno.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtyMwqU9tkjEOQwS7W9Qf5kw0_6_5RvWO6jHlzw0w3escPVcYZmuKsqI-BS3C2DUfXgGOMwcbc9dNymzQFt2eMRc4YZ8JejKCYyERlhZjb6ZePbC41htkaBWsQek5jE9AKwqlAzhs2jljKXwbhg4y1cD2g51kKrTd4fjJrQbc1btqiMW3t62Hq-AwqDEU/s4032/IMG_7438.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtyMwqU9tkjEOQwS7W9Qf5kw0_6_5RvWO6jHlzw0w3escPVcYZmuKsqI-BS3C2DUfXgGOMwcbc9dNymzQFt2eMRc4YZ8JejKCYyERlhZjb6ZePbC41htkaBWsQek5jE9AKwqlAzhs2jljKXwbhg4y1cD2g51kKrTd4fjJrQbc1btqiMW3t62Hq-AwqDEU/s320/IMG_7438.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLaqfeW4nev7zWdjDjxEa69HEtwgXdhTsb6QmrzwQ-isqPLv_SKtGXBXUNxF9WYXv07TPBAX7XHk_jQ08OeZ3AVuN5zt9OUDriucd4pSVlRfO3ZbhgCp5ZesWZReHSn30cJfll4detCMTR73T0Pjl8USgXApvgJjHKR_wirv1D_ZsOyFWpL5r9jkA7Tno/s4032/IMG_7442.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLaqfeW4nev7zWdjDjxEa69HEtwgXdhTsb6QmrzwQ-isqPLv_SKtGXBXUNxF9WYXv07TPBAX7XHk_jQ08OeZ3AVuN5zt9OUDriucd4pSVlRfO3ZbhgCp5ZesWZReHSn30cJfll4detCMTR73T0Pjl8USgXApvgJjHKR_wirv1D_ZsOyFWpL5r9jkA7Tno/s320/IMG_7442.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Views from the top of Animas Mountain<br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;">After the Animas Mountain loop, my brother and I headed toward the Colorado Trail trailhead. Seeing as the Colorado Trail is on my bucket list, riding the start (or finish, depending on direction) seemed like a neat idea. Some of you might remember I had hoped to ride the Colorado Trail this year, but for a variety of reasons, I decided against it. I won’t go into all the details here, but I just did not feel ready for that kind of an event. The easy excuse is that it would’ve tired me out for Breck Epic, but honestly, I’m not sure if I would’ve done it even if I wasn’t racing Breck Epic. </div></span></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><o:p> <br /></o:p>But I digress. The opening climb of the Colorado Trail was tough, but switchbacks made it manageable. On the very next descent, I heard a loud noise from behind me. I stopped to see what happened to Zach, and immediately I heard an expletive.<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>He broke his carbon wheel, the rear wheel. It was actually an impressive break; the rim was cracked almost entirely through. To make it even more interesting, he was seriously riding 28 psi (I don’t know why he runs such high pressure), so there’s zero chance it was a rim strike. It wasn’t even a rocky trail. Best I can figure is that a rock flipped up from the side and smacked the rim that way. This proves what I’ve been saying for a long time though, carbon wheels are dumb for anything except race day. I know, I know, “carbon is stronger”. But I’ve totaled two wheels in my life, and my brother has now broken one, and all three were carbon wheels. Plus, we’ve both ridden way more miles on alloy wheels than on carbon. That’s not to say I haven’t dented alloy rims – I have, rarely – but 9 times out of 10 I can fix it with a crescent wrench. There’s no fixing a totaled carbon rim.<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>Anyways. Zach turned around to ride back, and I continued the route. It was a fun loop off the Colorado Trail, and getting to bomb back down the Colorado Trail section that I had climbed up earlier was awesome. The pavement ride back to the AirBNB was a grind, though, I must admit. The last climb up to the house, even though it was only 400 feet or so, felt pretty rough.<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>Zach found a new rear wheel for sale at a bike shop, so I drove down with him to get it. It was a good wheel – a DT 350 hub with an EX 511 rim – the same exact setup I have on my Karate Monkey. Plus, it was on sale for only $400, a really great deal for that wheel.<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>The next day, with his new wheel, Zach and I drove up to Purgatory resort to do a true alpine ride. We did a little bit of the Colorado Trail, a little bit of some other alpine trails over 11,500 feet, and finished off the day with a trail everyone had been recommending to me: Engineer Mountain.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinOAtLoUEcbX__k_LJUZewSpgRsXljH-JxxaKPDUvF4GFTkCriuy1cgVd0YYdp1qkxWbKdGtqzSSGoBDf9vWXLjm_UPeF3aasdlNbjDffshwDsPduNNMPkLyEC-Q0U2cNspY9XGw8QUxaDOBVMmotYfCMZ7ehHsEi9jKrsey9H7eIYJowKn2EI2UtP4-c/s4032/IMG_7489.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinOAtLoUEcbX__k_LJUZewSpgRsXljH-JxxaKPDUvF4GFTkCriuy1cgVd0YYdp1qkxWbKdGtqzSSGoBDf9vWXLjm_UPeF3aasdlNbjDffshwDsPduNNMPkLyEC-Q0U2cNspY9XGw8QUxaDOBVMmotYfCMZ7ehHsEi9jKrsey9H7eIYJowKn2EI2UtP4-c/s320/IMG_7489.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Q9TP3AQeWZRPfp9CXOdTOtnmJLA8MGa3GmX8yrhYlmQNFRyFQyq0eJOER2Md2UZDG2GA7R16Vl9hN9vc0AHzqml0EHJ7BTMqSmmbxEkQZn45x4N6-lnwBoNifnMZ1DmkqfaakiHyiZTRUZpkxkRpTyoU2_DR2zLcMNbXUcfNok5BISf3mdEADGiWHEU/s4032/IMG_7518.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Q9TP3AQeWZRPfp9CXOdTOtnmJLA8MGa3GmX8yrhYlmQNFRyFQyq0eJOER2Md2UZDG2GA7R16Vl9hN9vc0AHzqml0EHJ7BTMqSmmbxEkQZn45x4N6-lnwBoNifnMZ1DmkqfaakiHyiZTRUZpkxkRpTyoU2_DR2zLcMNbXUcfNok5BISf3mdEADGiWHEU/s320/IMG_7518.HEIC" width="240" /></a><br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>Unlike some of the other trails which had a little bit too much exposure for Zach, Engineer Mountain was tame. It was 2,500 vertical feet of descent, starting in high-alpine terrain over 11,500 feet, weaving through pines and aspens, and finally dumping out into open meadows at a little over 9,000 feet. I have a bad habit of ranking things, but Engineer Mountain is one of the better trails I’ve ridden.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ovbi2s5TDSKpHm78qy2lBU46SsrrC0m7li67oaeSRSghEnMrT12sPm4lZxzOXJioS7PIygEIL-mmgJmuSpPLlxWzQ_rvs-rh4USdlxjXs_9ZDPs4WHT6wFOM0rFLJPsTjl_5YNTBn8YA6G8ITHLS8xGRgKXmjkAxsHWHgsFL6ic7FoLIg-1kedX0NlE/s4032/IMG_7532.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ovbi2s5TDSKpHm78qy2lBU46SsrrC0m7li67oaeSRSghEnMrT12sPm4lZxzOXJioS7PIygEIL-mmgJmuSpPLlxWzQ_rvs-rh4USdlxjXs_9ZDPs4WHT6wFOM0rFLJPsTjl_5YNTBn8YA6G8ITHLS8xGRgKXmjkAxsHWHgsFL6ic7FoLIg-1kedX0NlE/w187-h250/IMG_7532.HEIC" width="187" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5tHv8LgxkZdLFwrdpNA4tYhyQFK1OLZx_e0MqzuV25gpsF9qvseKyJvrwlhXtm_xJlCprbMYpJpbJFZ2q5SXxPFWu40HH_gHl84C6eXgFH9Y-hAgzvxD_iJ1AE82myxK4IQjjpgbmnxzNrVFY_HwddMq6nZ5y-b0LmO0LDR2gukLqfUPyB1eA62rcJZE/s4032/IMG_7541.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5tHv8LgxkZdLFwrdpNA4tYhyQFK1OLZx_e0MqzuV25gpsF9qvseKyJvrwlhXtm_xJlCprbMYpJpbJFZ2q5SXxPFWu40HH_gHl84C6eXgFH9Y-hAgzvxD_iJ1AE82myxK4IQjjpgbmnxzNrVFY_HwddMq6nZ5y-b0LmO0LDR2gukLqfUPyB1eA62rcJZE/w192-h255/IMG_7541.HEIC" width="192" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFxN2umvUZ2Q2NJ52TwIaN8660h-dzHgLNcRCfQAWBANDb1lAxRcKSWmnNYJVkDm2ZD02E7RIYomkfIaiS_2Sv4tLW3JCP0ZVsy_xDd8dWX_k29HQtFUr_QtFb9mmQVj5lSeY3s4Y5VaVnLt74p1XFpGnVXbxAl7E-Ro0--G5IC5stn8nLCPq-U-ooXws/s4032/IMG_7555.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFxN2umvUZ2Q2NJ52TwIaN8660h-dzHgLNcRCfQAWBANDb1lAxRcKSWmnNYJVkDm2ZD02E7RIYomkfIaiS_2Sv4tLW3JCP0ZVsy_xDd8dWX_k29HQtFUr_QtFb9mmQVj5lSeY3s4Y5VaVnLt74p1XFpGnVXbxAl7E-Ro0--G5IC5stn8nLCPq-U-ooXws/w195-h260/IMG_7555.HEIC" width="195" /></a><br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>The following day was the “queen” day of the trip. It actually ended up being slightly shortly time-wise than another day, but still, it was the most epic and most challenging ride of them all.<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>To make it even more fun, our friend Nicky joined us for the ride – he drove up from Colorado Springs to stay with us for a night. He has a top-of-the-line Trek Top Fuel with the new AXS transmission, so he certainly wasn't at a disadvantage with his bike.<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>We once again drove up toward Purgatory Resort and started the ride at the bottom of a historic road called “Old Lime Creek”. The road was carved in the 1880s and served as the connector between Durango and Silverton. It has since been replaced by a modern highway, but it still exists as a fun road for biking and four-wheeling.<br /><o:p> </o:p></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYBiJ7Y_hfaqcn74WieukMEbIplFT0848fidzlfHoeivzqIpwuRGyBTiiOzCL7ELeYta54qwuDL7Z_J8FTQVEzgY0WcxUKPN03jHEa0rCLRVvZ6Z8OeC9wzd_VSCaspXLH2EhpWQWP7Fgcw0rw4T8XrPPL9WOkls6Ggs7DG0y3N_2yteV_BZCSKcCsoJQ/s4032/IMG_7583.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYBiJ7Y_hfaqcn74WieukMEbIplFT0848fidzlfHoeivzqIpwuRGyBTiiOzCL7ELeYta54qwuDL7Z_J8FTQVEzgY0WcxUKPN03jHEa0rCLRVvZ6Z8OeC9wzd_VSCaspXLH2EhpWQWP7Fgcw0rw4T8XrPPL9WOkls6Ggs7DG0y3N_2yteV_BZCSKcCsoJQ/s320/IMG_7583.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old Lime Creek Road</td></tr></tbody></table><div><o:p><br /></o:p>It had a few climbs on it, but nothing too bad. The real climbing started in earnest once we finished that first road. To get to the Colorado Trail at Molas Pass, we had to climb up the highway to the pass. It was only about a 1,000 foot climb, but it felt much longer. I started off steady, but eventually locked myself in to a pace that had me suffering to the top. One of my rules is that once you set a pace, you don’t back off until the top or you blow up. I didn’t blow up.<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>Once at Molas Pass, it was singletrack all the way to end – another 25 miles. We hopped on the Colorado Trail and had a gradual climb, and as the trail climbed higher, the scenery changed. It went from green meadows to exposed mountainsides with scree fields, icy-cold alpine streams, and wildflowers more colorful than I’ve ever seen before. It really was a sight to see.<br /><o:p> </o:p></div><div><o:p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-oIU0sMAFJMcPrwd8SOap5qPrrs5LK_l_D6v0uBxLeZKGMud9DnYMYg6kVH_y__1a_lT7WVYLaP5rQWWcD_EEYbgHijqMgaaQdMDvg58y0lM_fWINevdDDex-IVNLGKb9_AZSzbCYa6zWExgpYZHgfkPkwaVTcCp0xUovj5h8eZ-ZerlGAdvdg6qlew/s4032/IMG_7625.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-oIU0sMAFJMcPrwd8SOap5qPrrs5LK_l_D6v0uBxLeZKGMud9DnYMYg6kVH_y__1a_lT7WVYLaP5rQWWcD_EEYbgHijqMgaaQdMDvg58y0lM_fWINevdDDex-IVNLGKb9_AZSzbCYa6zWExgpYZHgfkPkwaVTcCp0xUovj5h8eZ-ZerlGAdvdg6qlew/s320/IMG_7625.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhONqVcmU8LWp1JYvnfHJdGSwhImkDRv7OtKWLEvnMXdwHGfEvx8Vb1UR7cjqDy6YORQvIOZ-x2f7C1itAUw-eLwgnXeRjTl4qdgR1FL7HE9hpXV8cEFFKpCN-72r-6rNi3qJ838_jv-tto0A4ZfECRkHCFFoXq9E--T3ebUyTZHfdNd4QX5aCUO7nKOSE/s4032/IMG_7632.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhONqVcmU8LWp1JYvnfHJdGSwhImkDRv7OtKWLEvnMXdwHGfEvx8Vb1UR7cjqDy6YORQvIOZ-x2f7C1itAUw-eLwgnXeRjTl4qdgR1FL7HE9hpXV8cEFFKpCN-72r-6rNi3qJ838_jv-tto0A4ZfECRkHCFFoXq9E--T3ebUyTZHfdNd4QX5aCUO7nKOSE/s320/IMG_7632.HEIC" width="240" /></a><br /></o:p></div><div><br /></div><div>The crux of the day was Rolling Pass, which sits at 12,450 feet. The climb was surprisingly rideable – even for me on singlespeed – but as we neared the top, the thin air took its toll. I had to get off and push a few sections, and it felt like I had no power. That said, it was actually better than expected, and the breathtaking views at the pass were well-worth the effort.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQZ00681Rk8IstY3XHwsH5QFyYVL_Gf-3zViC-HRYgAJcvhRV6YSugYsAOFrnZEX0i9oHzV31dOLtvORLkBX85eBbfb9k4R9rvhTzbAxKmULjA10wVRVuGpmAKBfVsh8bBV4LjxkzM0e-F-SdihLjpIBgsfBnXMGnbZXf5dXIplD2SkfznGFu9v8hzkY/s4032/IMG_7645.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQZ00681Rk8IstY3XHwsH5QFyYVL_Gf-3zViC-HRYgAJcvhRV6YSugYsAOFrnZEX0i9oHzV31dOLtvORLkBX85eBbfb9k4R9rvhTzbAxKmULjA10wVRVuGpmAKBfVsh8bBV4LjxkzM0e-F-SdihLjpIBgsfBnXMGnbZXf5dXIplD2SkfznGFu9v8hzkY/s320/IMG_7645.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5qJCPfEI2QRNKrxutYbe9HjXzhnj7-7ugV76t85LxA1muPj86ok_M1WOnh8y_u5L6xYUa2I_mmI48bIwxb-LgQoFSC9JqlUTT5k5L9fE0oxVNERJXo8EyLl5OO-vpi9vpsI1dy0Xv2extiqfuywLZGITGDK5tK31lzH6yyUB-1uL8plXhzVs3qZnp3lw/s4032/IMG_7649%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5qJCPfEI2QRNKrxutYbe9HjXzhnj7-7ugV76t85LxA1muPj86ok_M1WOnh8y_u5L6xYUa2I_mmI48bIwxb-LgQoFSC9JqlUTT5k5L9fE0oxVNERJXo8EyLl5OO-vpi9vpsI1dy0Xv2extiqfuywLZGITGDK5tK31lzH6yyUB-1uL8plXhzVs3qZnp3lw/s320/IMG_7649%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a><br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>I dare say that the views from Rolling Pass are among the most incredible I’ve ever seen. There were patches of snow near the top, and the whipping wind added to the epic-ness. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99QehYq52TnL4jXwyN79BuyZ9ALFpvyjE1cO2ZdGByQRC4jXwYzyclNX-XLmLv1vRk0jSQaF29nQpyiP_bt81R1RVBxTsqUsCotJzAcBVvXSseUL2gkjXwolXKrSC1E43rccCpWNsGont57xVeCyibgnDChuBs_z3kPQEG6eoHxUKyoDUZsShOHtK6to/s4032/IMG_7674.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99QehYq52TnL4jXwyN79BuyZ9ALFpvyjE1cO2ZdGByQRC4jXwYzyclNX-XLmLv1vRk0jSQaF29nQpyiP_bt81R1RVBxTsqUsCotJzAcBVvXSseUL2gkjXwolXKrSC1E43rccCpWNsGont57xVeCyibgnDChuBs_z3kPQEG6eoHxUKyoDUZsShOHtK6to/s320/IMG_7674.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM4PpHRvJhWkgi-BhLsmosy5EE1xSxgiGUWTYat1_r6yF2scCNdgJq4NeUCc5Pez0UdaZAO5Awb_rkQI0wwe8YwWYyjTOIDzyUuAnPDn38tWXIHNZT7Io1O2DCuRmaQN14C2TBDjI6DppnEs4ftWF3ZHKx3Jjq2MTm38_GktENwvbR2MJEZsfcOkFX0AQ/s4032/IMG_7681.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM4PpHRvJhWkgi-BhLsmosy5EE1xSxgiGUWTYat1_r6yF2scCNdgJq4NeUCc5Pez0UdaZAO5Awb_rkQI0wwe8YwWYyjTOIDzyUuAnPDn38tWXIHNZT7Io1O2DCuRmaQN14C2TBDjI6DppnEs4ftWF3ZHKx3Jjq2MTm38_GktENwvbR2MJEZsfcOkFX0AQ/s320/IMG_7681.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>After taking some pictures, we started down the other side. It wasn’t as technical as I expected, which meant I was able to look around and take in the views. I could ride a trail like that every single day of my life and it would never get old.<br /><o:p> </o:p></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnkRvX5vLG1HtFjtN0z63JHwXZ2e3jaQLM-MJwt1ypZa2-IPxabRtZbHIps3_AaqsR8ShdwYqA_vLBMe0lci5i7UvZXywz3E0xNFYuropJb3ElJyA_eFcjQ6ylqOJaoW4qjp44dAGs1_9i9ASzqp-niX3_I73Of9YfKdR4fVg5jZaE10id8saH-xXa0Jc/s4032/IMG_7668.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnkRvX5vLG1HtFjtN0z63JHwXZ2e3jaQLM-MJwt1ypZa2-IPxabRtZbHIps3_AaqsR8ShdwYqA_vLBMe0lci5i7UvZXywz3E0xNFYuropJb3ElJyA_eFcjQ6ylqOJaoW4qjp44dAGs1_9i9ASzqp-niX3_I73Of9YfKdR4fVg5jZaE10id8saH-xXa0Jc/s320/IMG_7668.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost to Rolling Pass</td></tr></tbody></table><div><o:p><br /></o:p>Unfortunately for some, the climbing wasn’t over yet. Of course, I joke, because actually, Zach and Nicky both crushed the ride. That still didn’t change the fact though that we had one more 700-foot climb on the Colorado Trail until we got to the last downhill. To make matters worse, it was a lot of hike-a-bike. And, I had a minor crash just before the climb, but it was merely a flesh wound.<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>The climb went by fast enough, and before long, we were at the last downhill: Graysill Trail. It was about 1,800 feet of drop in only 2 miles, so it was bound to be spicy. For the most part, it was just steep but not technical, but toward the bottom, that changed. A few switchbacks were super steep, and chunky rocks on the turns made them even more difficult. I made it down unscathed and with a smile on my face, but it certainly took some focus.<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>Even after the descent, the fun technical riding did not end. We had another couple miles on a trail following a creek, and the scenery actually reminded me a lot of being in Canada near Banff. As if the day hadn’t been exciting enough, we even saw a marten (a small weasel-like creature) as we popped out on the singletrack. I’d say it was a pretty darn good day.<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>The next day was the last full day in Colorado for my family, so I headed on a ride with my dad and brother. We did some janky trails, and even though my dad may not have been too pleased, he kept riding. <br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>At the top of one of the climbs, I saw a super steep rock slab to hike up and ride down. It looked pretty sketchy, but I decided it was worth it so I hiked up it. My brother filmed it and some other people at the bottom also watched me and filmed as I rode down. Much to everyone’s disappointment, I did not crash, and I made it down totally fine with a smile on my face.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1zpAsyhbpRZbPdxOxcVuJX5gY54hwpWySVw12MC3qiAJsAM_vqQLUirurDb3RE0PWt6nlTMF1PqqXPlc-TAvuQR-aAR6oHT1dBTmGjZoRr-1_A-MB1yzUc5ENKeaidwbws12RfrDRchlElCrSuzON-S6-wbYZnvcDh-ZV0oKSKHJZ5qnRVukxP2vI1Hc/s4032/IMG_7722.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1zpAsyhbpRZbPdxOxcVuJX5gY54hwpWySVw12MC3qiAJsAM_vqQLUirurDb3RE0PWt6nlTMF1PqqXPlc-TAvuQR-aAR6oHT1dBTmGjZoRr-1_A-MB1yzUc5ENKeaidwbws12RfrDRchlElCrSuzON-S6-wbYZnvcDh-ZV0oKSKHJZ5qnRVukxP2vI1Hc/s320/IMG_7722.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A nice sandy trail on the last day</td></tr></tbody></table><div><o:p><br /></o:p>My brother and I kept tooling around on some more trails for another hour or two, before heading back to the AirBNB. I didn’t really talk much about hanging out at the AirBNB, because if I did, this post would be twice as long, and really this blog is supposed to be mostly about biking. But, it was a great time hanging out with family, having some good food, and sitting by the fire outside in the evenings.<br /><o:p> </o:p></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ7ChGnJS49eovOCZh8rLjrdntJW5h_JOfz7FAPek0zMV3YMAxg6zxB80s2RieVhCUWsfm4UOhY7TU2HiNV7pvaW4Qmf62V_pvb1A-hhe4RquzteO3fT5QteuzR5ZRiSPM5ao5iVEqvQGupf29Ij0KfP4wPFZdH1tiFKscB8Ubb7LcPYiorVlT1r0SHdg/s4032/IMG_7733.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ7ChGnJS49eovOCZh8rLjrdntJW5h_JOfz7FAPek0zMV3YMAxg6zxB80s2RieVhCUWsfm4UOhY7TU2HiNV7pvaW4Qmf62V_pvb1A-hhe4RquzteO3fT5QteuzR5ZRiSPM5ao5iVEqvQGupf29Ij0KfP4wPFZdH1tiFKscB8Ubb7LcPYiorVlT1r0SHdg/s320/IMG_7733.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zach in the Animas River</td></tr></tbody></table><div><o:p><br /></o:p>The next morning, my family packed up early to hit the road, and I left for a short ride the same time they left to drive home. Recovery for Breck Epic was starting, so I just did an easy hour cruise and got back to the AirBNB before checkout time to take a shower and pack up.<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>That’s pretty much it for Durango, but I will leave with a few thoughts. This was the first time I’d ever been to Durango, and really, my first time in southwest Colorado. I’m not really sure what I expected, but Durango was extremely diverse. You could ride sandy desert trails in town or drive 15 minutes north and do trails in pine and aspen forests. Drive just a little further north, and you have singletrack over 12,000 feet. In many ways, Durango is sort of the coming-together point for different biomes, and that's pretty neat.<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>Well, next up is the rest and sightseeing week in Colorado before Breck Epic starts. I’ll try to churn out that blog post before Breck Epic starts, but we’ll see. This post was quite long, and maybe someday I’ll learn to trim them down a little bit. But, quantity over quality, right?</div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-12975112002807869832023-08-10T15:17:00.001-04:002023-08-10T15:21:09.782-04:00Thoughts From Boreas Pass Road<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">I was halfway up Boreas Pass Road, sitting on my cooler on the side of the road with my guitar in hand. A woman in a car came driving down the road from above and slowed down when she saw me. Long hair, a guitar, an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, and a dusty Subaru Outback with two bikes on the back: I was certainly a sight to behold.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;">The lady’s window was down, and she yelled out to me, in a friendly way, “you’re doing it right!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;">I just smiled and said, “thank you”, and she continued her way down the pass.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;">It got me thinking, though, about how fortunate I am. As I write this now, I’m sitting on the side of Boreas Pass Road – perhaps a mile below where I was playing guitar – and staring out at vast mountains and the town of Breckenridge in their shadow. I’m lucky to be able to do this. Don’t get me wrong: I’ve saved up money, I’ve planned out these trips for months, but still, there’s a big part of me that realizes how out-of-the-ordinary my life has been these past few years.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc6O98jkQCbp96YlLVZMxCN4ez0TDRGnZDqtPqXdGIBiinCdZR3sqGucT2-qt5Gtv7A0mOO1UFQ41Kuy9rS4q2I59HNQtnvC_4OF7DUI6TrGyvIR-lmXsyuRnNB02vn4xqJwbBvN4na7bWeZ2egBZlPkEeE6RtybfITZ03StodMRhLL4FQgi1vVFVRO5w/s4032/IMG_8037.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc6O98jkQCbp96YlLVZMxCN4ez0TDRGnZDqtPqXdGIBiinCdZR3sqGucT2-qt5Gtv7A0mOO1UFQ41Kuy9rS4q2I59HNQtnvC_4OF7DUI6TrGyvIR-lmXsyuRnNB02vn4xqJwbBvN4na7bWeZ2egBZlPkEeE6RtybfITZ03StodMRhLL4FQgi1vVFVRO5w/s320/IMG_8037.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My view from where I was writing</td></tr></tbody></table></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;">Of course, there’s always two sides to every coin. Most times when you see people out traveling – or biking – or whatever – you only see what they want you to see. You see the magnificent views, the pristine singletrack, and clear sailing ahead. What you don’t see is not taking a shower for a few days, not eating a meal at a restaurant in the same time, and spending nights camping off the sides of forest roads to save money on campsites. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;">That’s not to downplay how much I’m enjoying the time I’m spending, and it's not to justify my life to anyone. I love those forest road campsites, and cooking ramen on a jet-boil in the evening is oddly satisfying. Even the ultimate dirtbag move, not showering for a few days, is something I’ve gotten used to and it’s become part of the routine. Now, trust me, the second I get a chance to shower, I take it. I even use soap, too. It’s not like I’m a dirty person (despite what my mom says), but when I’m out traveling, I’ve learned that I can sacrifice many comforts of civilized life to stretch my budget a little further, and the more I travel, the more I realize there are a lot of people with that same mindset.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;">This is all very situationally dependent. I’m in college (yes, still) and I save up as much money as possible during the school year so that I can travel in the summer. To me, money is limited, but in the summer, time isn’t. But as I said, it’s situationally dependent. When I get a job and have more responsibilities of adulthood, time won’t be quite as abundant. My hope, though, is that money might be a little bit less scarce. If that’s the case, I probably won’t be sleeping in my car at rest stops or eating tuna packs and tortillas for lunch. My hope is that even if time becomes more limited, having just a little bit more money can help pay for expediency. Instead of driving to California, maybe I’d fly there and rent a car. More expensive? Sure. But it saves time. I guess what I’m trying to say, and I’m telling myself this as much as I’m writing it for the reader, is that I feel confident that I will never let the feeling I have right now slip away.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-91320539000446045112023-08-03T09:11:00.000-04:002023-08-03T09:11:02.085-04:00Rocky Mountain Riding in SalidaI got a late start to this road trip, and by late, I mean I think I pulled out of my driveway on Wednesday at 4:03 AM instead of my usual 3:59 AM start. Four whole minutes, tisk tisk. I've done the whole road trip thing enough times now to learn some patterns: the driving at the start before sunrise goes by fast, I get super tired right as the sun comes up, and then I get a second wind for most of the day. As the sun sets again in the evening, I begin searching for a rest stop to pull over at and sleep.<div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbEtpLuglmWVlSyg07necmIkJqkE72-n_Dm26wvVUwaVBin9WugOh6IMrjRQkvmvY06bYQjKTXkAbg4rNm4qI5rAqO5uADbuNTfF555gF-Q5zmiv-nF9YQi3FELvXURoMFEchao5CNNWZLLz7lrehqDYpoPOmB5Cm0f4bXHKwQEQvZmB7Co9ZlWt161Cg/s4032/IMG_7063.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbEtpLuglmWVlSyg07necmIkJqkE72-n_Dm26wvVUwaVBin9WugOh6IMrjRQkvmvY06bYQjKTXkAbg4rNm4qI5rAqO5uADbuNTfF555gF-Q5zmiv-nF9YQi3FELvXURoMFEchao5CNNWZLLz7lrehqDYpoPOmB5Cm0f4bXHKwQEQvZmB7Co9ZlWt161Cg/s320/IMG_7063.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blogger chooses first picture to be the thumbnail, and this is a pretty cool picture of Agate Creek Trail off of the Monarch Crest<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div>This time, I made it all the way into central Kansas before pulling off at a rest stop to sleep. It was hot, and obviously my car doesn't have air conditioning when it's turned off, so I spent most of the night sweating on my foam sleeping pad in the back of my car. Oh well, I still contend it's better than a hotel room, because when I wake up, all I have to do is hop out of the back of the car, jump into the front seat, and start driving.</div><div><br /></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjECa8W5bUatzYT6IkofuH016bjuRE4O5ec0J7fJJMWivMB6pEVWam_MxOh9O3s00y4_JdAlAeWzTsPxX3-n5Jq4dGtLdS6A7KSGYWA2v3R0qWiLFtrt6j7Ay3GzSkwpTj9MYd2lQR1pDz10MoxCFBznHWc2yr2qAfKe6XsLO5y_vI0JY7tLyvqsCJqYV0/s4032/IMG_6947.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjECa8W5bUatzYT6IkofuH016bjuRE4O5ec0J7fJJMWivMB6pEVWam_MxOh9O3s00y4_JdAlAeWzTsPxX3-n5Jq4dGtLdS6A7KSGYWA2v3R0qWiLFtrt6j7Ay3GzSkwpTj9MYd2lQR1pDz10MoxCFBznHWc2yr2qAfKe6XsLO5y_vI0JY7tLyvqsCJqYV0/s320/IMG_6947.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kansas state capitol, I got some dinner near there </td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>I made it to Salida, Colorado in the early afternoon on Thursday, and I found a route on MTB Project to ride. Being my first ride at elevation on the trip, and seeing as how it was quite hot in Salida that afternoon, I was suffering the whole ride. I had 32x20 gearing on my bike, and as I hit the first steep pitch, I promised myself I was switching to 32x22 that night at a campsite. I know, I know, that's a stupid easy gear. But for a lowlander riding at elevation, and considering most of the riding I'd be doing in Colorado isn't friendly for singlespeed, it was a reasonable choice.</div><div><br /></div><div>That first ride in Salida wasn't all suffering, of course. I rode a stretch of the Rainbow Trail (a 100+ mile trail open to dirt bikes), did a sweet downhill, and ended up back at my car just as the sky was threatening to rain. I grabbed some dinner at a McDonald's and plotted my route for the next day, since I was pretty sure my campsite wouldn't have cell service.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEHcqZq07__prb1trA5_19b2ak2404UhjF3I8XK3nLHMFGK4jmLmZ9xtFfuo9lDel1nT3Cyq0Q2OkXgr8aCk7aFmmASGaNFWrgdc6SDS1Er9iYf2FmfYBMR0pLkspiE61gWli0YPnTsXVf5Yal34UQB4pEIVCcjlTRYNP9SkPzArafMBrKGObUdjX9qfc/s4032/IMG_6986.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEHcqZq07__prb1trA5_19b2ak2404UhjF3I8XK3nLHMFGK4jmLmZ9xtFfuo9lDel1nT3Cyq0Q2OkXgr8aCk7aFmmASGaNFWrgdc6SDS1Er9iYf2FmfYBMR0pLkspiE61gWli0YPnTsXVf5Yal34UQB4pEIVCcjlTRYNP9SkPzArafMBrKGObUdjX9qfc/s320/IMG_6986.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXxSNFeJE546zI2e9WgqPXuRIW5R4XPw4JtrNv3ETlD8IdZWENucjJAKCH647ncbPpIbNVqCjqeixBm1R0EWkiah-XtqhIDSNDORHboMfsYKBa3v8GMacNZnRFgDGOjKTJzLJYW1A_ts-5hdAnJBGaay4vdzadAKLeSFoXWg46Tj15FkydMI2p7FzVSJg/s4032/IMG_7005.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXxSNFeJE546zI2e9WgqPXuRIW5R4XPw4JtrNv3ETlD8IdZWENucjJAKCH647ncbPpIbNVqCjqeixBm1R0EWkiah-XtqhIDSNDORHboMfsYKBa3v8GMacNZnRFgDGOjKTJzLJYW1A_ts-5hdAnJBGaay4vdzadAKLeSFoXWg46Tj15FkydMI2p7FzVSJg/s320/IMG_7005.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Views from the Rainbow Trail and lower elevation (< 7500 feet) near Salida<br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I was right, there was no cell service at the O'Haver Lake Campground, but that's the way I like it a lot of times. Phones are nice and all, but there's a feeling of relief when you're no longer connected to the interwebs. There was an old couple in an RV next to me, and a feral cat even walked past my tent that evening. People watching (and cat watching) really can be exciting.</div></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLBZ6-p2-aCt5-YN6YaLtE8Z6NHt_kuxql-BXpluGdYLmVppsaIoNGU5KzzoLpZa5Op6c1LTba--DZOw9YhqDXW0BhevrUeeh2TGEqtdOszLLZ9bZRNXTtCw4bCRQbmKOgCTUMIML5K--vfOllWnFIXq6qKtRJuGup5gXndwL2x92qr629xo7-Cau18k0/s4032/IMG_7035.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLBZ6-p2-aCt5-YN6YaLtE8Z6NHt_kuxql-BXpluGdYLmVppsaIoNGU5KzzoLpZa5Op6c1LTba--DZOw9YhqDXW0BhevrUeeh2TGEqtdOszLLZ9bZRNXTtCw4bCRQbmKOgCTUMIML5K--vfOllWnFIXq6qKtRJuGup5gXndwL2x92qr629xo7-Cau18k0/s320/IMG_7035.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">O'Haver Lake Campground</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>The campsite at O'Haver Lake was fantastic. Usually I hate paying for campsites, but this national forest campground was totally worth it. I even got lucky with getting the last available campsite, which happened to be right on the lake shore in the shadows of towering mountains. The temperatures dropped quickly at camp, especially since it was at 9,200 feet elevation, but after sweating all night in my car the night before, I was looking forward to cooler temps. I pulled out my guitar for a little as the sun was setting and kept practicing the opening for Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here". It's a cool little intro, kudos to Ian for prompting me to start learning it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I slept like a baby that night and awoke eager to ride the Monarch Crest Trail the next morning. I packed up my camp and drove up to Marshall Pass, where I'd start the ride. Marshall Pass is one of the mountain passes on the Great Divide route, and last summer, Will and I even saw some bighorn sheep while climbing the pass. No sheep this year, but it's a really beautiful road all the same.</div><div><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixBVo3iTdqN7dk93sMvrY5ArSbGfMSKpeO1A7BmwhKYfau7Ga93DKvVoUu0Zt5HRkQ8auvwJNnsoIBh6tjZBNS1_uGHtRV815e-8SFVkVSeSACxPL3HlXTVSvFYd-305bRROESZkORVkEhRlAq_aOvUULPs3DOTvxjLiTn5pMiTutZDTIlrNTPmgrzjV8/s4032/IMG_7054.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixBVo3iTdqN7dk93sMvrY5ArSbGfMSKpeO1A7BmwhKYfau7Ga93DKvVoUu0Zt5HRkQ8auvwJNnsoIBh6tjZBNS1_uGHtRV815e-8SFVkVSeSACxPL3HlXTVSvFYd-305bRROESZkORVkEhRlAq_aOvUULPs3DOTvxjLiTn5pMiTutZDTIlrNTPmgrzjV8/s320/IMG_7054.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3IsGMb-Zs851TwkZpQYv6iOyB853fCwgOAd7kZCQXBU7Dm5TPd0anzv-AyCTTWUDp1JOph9pTSVELv6QjG5hetkgQlT4t7q0gFoBc1QMGxRXk0AMgKn2yrbL_SbkCR5Xcrs3qwRtiUIX8Qb_1MtBTsvKCkhP3_h9MTiynAgs0CpiPBqL7keVl8tcGnEY/s4032/IMG_7062.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3IsGMb-Zs851TwkZpQYv6iOyB853fCwgOAd7kZCQXBU7Dm5TPd0anzv-AyCTTWUDp1JOph9pTSVELv6QjG5hetkgQlT4t7q0gFoBc1QMGxRXk0AMgKn2yrbL_SbkCR5Xcrs3qwRtiUIX8Qb_1MtBTsvKCkhP3_h9MTiynAgs0CpiPBqL7keVl8tcGnEY/s320/IMG_7062.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monarch Crest Trail (L); Agate Creek Trail (R)<br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I started my ride going north on the Monarch Crest Trail, before quickly dipping down Agate Creek Trail, a rugged 2,500+ foot descent. It was a long descent with some mini hike-a-bike climbs at the bottom, and was a lot more of an adventure than most Colorado trails. I like that.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></span></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhZcfiPM-us7b0Sl0PvGOwmWwTunu5bX18SGYTKPPRR8Tyq9xYkJRDhozUyHgggbKv1hLiPswwHHsGRS_xrtPVhAB9Qv_JnO-Ln4dy894VBOPhcDkSBtjWWdWiq9qD0veoAQil-yUenAV-Q8hyfa524_QZKJCfbZ4DESzWS7hZIwS_RDmLTrtBvHUbjyQ/s4032/IMG_7076.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhZcfiPM-us7b0Sl0PvGOwmWwTunu5bX18SGYTKPPRR8Tyq9xYkJRDhozUyHgggbKv1hLiPswwHHsGRS_xrtPVhAB9Qv_JnO-Ln4dy894VBOPhcDkSBtjWWdWiq9qD0veoAQil-yUenAV-Q8hyfa524_QZKJCfbZ4DESzWS7hZIwS_RDmLTrtBvHUbjyQ/s320/IMG_7076.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some ruggedness on Agate Creek Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>After the descent, I rode some pavement and gravel to Old Monarch Pass, a 10 mile and 2,500 foot gravel climb. Even though it wasn't that steep, it still hurt a lot. The suffering wasn't over at the top, though. There was another punch on US-50 before hitting yet another wall of a climb at the start of the Monarch Crest Trail. I rode most of it, but had to walk the very top; the steepness compounded with the elevation was too much for me.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoHxE1C4ARZMRX-j0fquAFJ3Du2jaFHsDLTtL3DqUk4FG-L5pXv-R_q-QrbPQRKUHJJBFFc_Mjg9mPdpdUiWVXTQnVClxOTNggrplxjqH3msKz_758wzJHmpvdnYSwpACIzKyuOzqiSoSUJkBKus34a2p96YbdtJu23iaKiRTA9fXXWMj4BX0rw0hgWaI/s4032/IMG_7097.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoHxE1C4ARZMRX-j0fquAFJ3Du2jaFHsDLTtL3DqUk4FG-L5pXv-R_q-QrbPQRKUHJJBFFc_Mjg9mPdpdUiWVXTQnVClxOTNggrplxjqH3msKz_758wzJHmpvdnYSwpACIzKyuOzqiSoSUJkBKus34a2p96YbdtJu23iaKiRTA9fXXWMj4BX0rw0hgWaI/s320/IMG_7097.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old Monarch Pass</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>The Monarch Crest Trail has been on my bucket list for a<span> while now. It's a </span>pretty famous trail, and after riding it, I can see why. Most of the trail is over 11,000 feet, and with some of it being above treeline, it is absolutely spectacular. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCnMMWGczLm1dD0-8ku0GwTa3y8tY0_S12ztjVbVIlq4NWG1UhvoswwHyhlgCfRn-31N5Y6cDuOoyhB_lsYeOtNaGTjbsx8hluvTnbhexJefTok5gYPfwWHRmGiLFGrxarYAeqXCAWF_3oJH1E0FfzDGByj1lnhP-mkdArqpoSxDOkP7fE-5mVKNTUr50/s4032/IMG_7121.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCnMMWGczLm1dD0-8ku0GwTa3y8tY0_S12ztjVbVIlq4NWG1UhvoswwHyhlgCfRn-31N5Y6cDuOoyhB_lsYeOtNaGTjbsx8hluvTnbhexJefTok5gYPfwWHRmGiLFGrxarYAeqXCAWF_3oJH1E0FfzDGByj1lnhP-mkdArqpoSxDOkP7fE-5mVKNTUr50/w215-h287/IMG_7121.HEIC" width="215" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3s8q0aWbcG-U93ntS5uW-GH3OJlzAhR3lsK1d46ZO3dqJYsppnXDgpkDEs2-sDgWFsJ1_izgc56wyyc6MFBhBK56EMbnZwlP4v0S6GRClGxS_lNOBrEqrUCJKss_u3CuNBPqQwna2ZdGAt5RGj1k-k-dxuEdKvyoObJpAlOErd63Ov8CYEeCxXWoGIyE/s4032/IMG_7117.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3s8q0aWbcG-U93ntS5uW-GH3OJlzAhR3lsK1d46ZO3dqJYsppnXDgpkDEs2-sDgWFsJ1_izgc56wyyc6MFBhBK56EMbnZwlP4v0S6GRClGxS_lNOBrEqrUCJKss_u3CuNBPqQwna2ZdGAt5RGj1k-k-dxuEdKvyoObJpAlOErd63Ov8CYEeCxXWoGIyE/w385-h288/IMG_7117.HEIC" width="385" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More Monarch Crest Views; thank you kind stranger for the picture<br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I love riding bikes everywhere, but it's hard to beat the shock-and-awe feeling of being above treeline or riding on an exposed ridge top. Maybe it's a primal instinct, I don't know, but anyone who rides a trail like Monarch Crest (or Wasatch Crest for that matter) and doesn't feel something special has a screw loose.</div></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2bQrYYsRSZNjMeU_OCdhT01iEtZ8_uQ6uXEmBkGyHUduFEs8A1IZaeP9a-3ffk6JIM6Be2x2uu0jRhW4xwFXOqzx4Oj1BJp5jbyobw2gESsuT64kkPrYmVlOMF_Ef_yAh7svdJmnx0lDSOJab-ztcVEI2yhzez0kIie3pDBd3-KE2JCtMqSvkOElYGmc/s4032/IMG_7109.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2bQrYYsRSZNjMeU_OCdhT01iEtZ8_uQ6uXEmBkGyHUduFEs8A1IZaeP9a-3ffk6JIM6Be2x2uu0jRhW4xwFXOqzx4Oj1BJp5jbyobw2gESsuT64kkPrYmVlOMF_Ef_yAh7svdJmnx0lDSOJab-ztcVEI2yhzez0kIie3pDBd3-KE2JCtMqSvkOElYGmc/s320/IMG_7109.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiYWMIejMXy20XEU4gpu_s-dl130cOzSR4u7lZDRDEzlHrWPomhEE_Qc9hr7bLpoAI-wDUy6ZwFZP6J5aV-GQPZhAEgCk5EBRf9vAnqgvstbTxiakTxSPpRtOw-6yZnZIOf363ODcxAqE3E1rIo6euhvjQLIwZfh_hs17w5N1U6GP8PAc4nbp7yXf48Vk/s4032/IMG_7110.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiYWMIejMXy20XEU4gpu_s-dl130cOzSR4u7lZDRDEzlHrWPomhEE_Qc9hr7bLpoAI-wDUy6ZwFZP6J5aV-GQPZhAEgCk5EBRf9vAnqgvstbTxiakTxSPpRtOw-6yZnZIOf363ODcxAqE3E1rIo6euhvjQLIwZfh_hs17w5N1U6GP8PAc4nbp7yXf48Vk/s320/IMG_7110.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amazing views from the Monarch Crest<br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I got back to my car after riding 46 miles that day with over 6,000 feet of climbing. For my second ride at altitude this trip, it was pretty tough. I stopped at a grocery store (coincidentally the same store Will and I stopped at on the Great Divide last summer), grabbed a small rotisserie chicken for dinner (yes, I know, strange, but cheaper than McDonald's), and drove into BLM land to find a free place to camp. </div></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Originally, I planned to drive further into the public land, but the road was extremely rocky and I didn't want to beat up my car any more than I had to. I ended up finding a really nice place to camp right on the edge of a mesa, overlooking a valley of desert-like ridges. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimNt71lEEvbAhAZF8LSe2nE943PkVVQ0PpMVZ3R3yKnJaNvRlpE-UHvox-6pvPIRV2aLt6i3uzakc1O2nrIhp6_BOkwXBNKiKhymEgXfNlYM2h3CNeu9_reltVfspKp8dLvHyJUxdt_O6dAA4nxrzU2rOZ_wq34Fb-JXRGC2W1WXdA7rFGRjEHKw8Tjms/s4032/71228827020__507D30DF-1B50-41E1-AF7E-8D833BC6D1CE.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimNt71lEEvbAhAZF8LSe2nE943PkVVQ0PpMVZ3R3yKnJaNvRlpE-UHvox-6pvPIRV2aLt6i3uzakc1O2nrIhp6_BOkwXBNKiKhymEgXfNlYM2h3CNeu9_reltVfspKp8dLvHyJUxdt_O6dAA4nxrzU2rOZ_wq34Fb-JXRGC2W1WXdA7rFGRjEHKw8Tjms/s320/71228827020__507D30DF-1B50-41E1-AF7E-8D833BC6D1CE.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from camp, there was a super steep drop-off right past where my tent was set up</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>The next morning I parked at the bottom of Marshall Pass to ride a loop I made on Strava the night before. I started with a 2,000 foot rocky doubletrack climb, almost 9% grade average, and ended up at the top of Marshall Pass once more. From there, I descended Silver Creek Trail, a phenomenal alpine descent through awe-inspiring terrain. Then, I turned onto the Rainbow Trail (a different section from before) which weaved along the mountainside for over 10 miles, crossing creeks and passing through meadows along the way.</div><div><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQPYaB1SxpxVL7Aprx7ZiwPviVvX9Bs06YFXQQBuPTDWiBwtJ7rB8i3g1HnZ8bt0XQx0s4h-CcAUj5TLlHsedgX5O4qstS_U_G-iC3LewiIN4tZ1yyiG7jHIGTB62GOCN9jchgFtUI9QeQQLiTkM-6c-9LprxOnClaZr3yUub3_xVZw1LEnc-1KBR7mkc/s4032/IMG_7190.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQPYaB1SxpxVL7Aprx7ZiwPviVvX9Bs06YFXQQBuPTDWiBwtJ7rB8i3g1HnZ8bt0XQx0s4h-CcAUj5TLlHsedgX5O4qstS_U_G-iC3LewiIN4tZ1yyiG7jHIGTB62GOCN9jchgFtUI9QeQQLiTkM-6c-9LprxOnClaZr3yUub3_xVZw1LEnc-1KBR7mkc/s320/IMG_7190.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY_l4q7Fc05KYxxrU_tK_BUAHYoVYTN9UNtw8yzk9MyL7pQBS1Q_tTmMZAgLEo5vtG84zhzRlhDqi-NSCFsqtqzZ3xbhAFccRQt0b6hh4B6WpGDy2uM-apLlKXlrelwqXc1x6AZiWnW9VUU4D-3pMNj-ecMh5mt8bjNt77jjsxjFl4nULbJLsWb55svW4/s4032/IMG_7193.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY_l4q7Fc05KYxxrU_tK_BUAHYoVYTN9UNtw8yzk9MyL7pQBS1Q_tTmMZAgLEo5vtG84zhzRlhDqi-NSCFsqtqzZ3xbhAFccRQt0b6hh4B6WpGDy2uM-apLlKXlrelwqXc1x6AZiWnW9VUU4D-3pMNj-ecMh5mt8bjNt77jjsxjFl4nULbJLsWb55svW4/s320/IMG_7193.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Silver Creek Trail, off of the Colorado Trail<br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I had seen on MTB Project that some people don't like the Rainbow Trail. Even though it's a net downhill, there are tons of small steep climbs mixed in, and I think a lot of people are disappointed about that. Since I knew what to expect, I greatly enjoyed the whole thing.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></span></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_LE3P9IstgIYTJOx6uUrhHnMF_5OCSqYq5bguLgk-IJQYo4RWWDu0auHlKK7cMFoX1hlBAYWKUEzvCaaTRAxeJl50sLuofz4vvK01HKsZAfc9bnP3JrLBVAz9YYBxvj43AZfQdgzUzhjMcHeUPmCdhP6mabUlgDeeyWfrsuvnSyMQ4xxIT5gzOH1UI7Q/s4032/IMG_7202.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_LE3P9IstgIYTJOx6uUrhHnMF_5OCSqYq5bguLgk-IJQYo4RWWDu0auHlKK7cMFoX1hlBAYWKUEzvCaaTRAxeJl50sLuofz4vvK01HKsZAfc9bnP3JrLBVAz9YYBxvj43AZfQdgzUzhjMcHeUPmCdhP6mabUlgDeeyWfrsuvnSyMQ4xxIT5gzOH1UI7Q/s320/IMG_7202.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Near the bottom of Silver Creek<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div>Back at my car after the ride, a bikepacker rode into the parking lot just minutes after I got there. He was parked next to me, so naturally we did some talking. It turns out he had raced the Tour Divide back in 2017, so he was quite the experienced rider.</div><div><br /></div><div>The 2017 edition of the Tour Divide seemed familiar to me for some reason. I asked if he knew my friend Colleen, who I was pretty sure had raced the divide in 2017 as well. In a strange coincidence, he actually did know Colleen and had in fact ridden with her for a while during the Tour Divide race in 2017. Small world.</div><div><br /></div><div>That was my last ride in Salida this time around, next up was driving to the Great Sand Dunes National Park to meet my family. I'm going to end this one here, and I'll pick up where I left off a little further down the road.</div></div>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-54740406102523029842023-07-31T09:25:00.002-04:002023-07-31T09:25:16.769-04:00Wilderness 101: 2023 Edition<p>Hundred-mile mountain bike races are pretty cool. That seems like such a platitude, and it is, but still, it feels worthwhile to say. It's the perfect mix of physical suffering, accomplishment, and hanging out with friends old and new. The Wilderness 101 is the epitome of those feelings, and it's a race that will always be special to me. </p><p>If you don't want to read any of my pre-pre-amble, you could scroll down to the race start line photo for the actual race recap. But, I would encourage you to read on. Or not. This website actually costs me money, and the more views I get, the more it encourages me to keep spending money on the domain. So actually, maybe stop reading now. Bless and thank. But anyways...</p><p>Chris Scott and Shenandoah Mountain Touring do a phenomenal job of turning the sleepy little town of Coburn, Pennsylvania into a mountain bike party for the better part of three days, and with the strong field of riders and countless friends that came this year, it was an especially rad party.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhneT515Nf5CXlcxnKxHFK61zwjcT6mZI3p-F3tEnLmyqx1C9z-XMJ-8kgOYk3MqEsAJEgTIyq9Xw7E88gN72nv-91ozGsqIxD3HnE4p9Y3FRWbbOx60BzV6GZhtV8Z9sRSGEczhd0N64hWhJKfOSxxGsftyKsuhPownpg0HLtWEQqJC8fSsCRk37UJG0g/s2135/IMG_9664.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1601" data-original-width="2135" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhneT515Nf5CXlcxnKxHFK61zwjcT6mZI3p-F3tEnLmyqx1C9z-XMJ-8kgOYk3MqEsAJEgTIyq9Xw7E88gN72nv-91ozGsqIxD3HnE4p9Y3FRWbbOx60BzV6GZhtV8Z9sRSGEczhd0N64hWhJKfOSxxGsftyKsuhPownpg0HLtWEQqJC8fSsCRk37UJG0g/w460-h345/IMG_9664.JPG" width="460" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">100 mile SS podium, from L to R: Joe, Kevin, me, David, Nate</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div><br /></div>The lease on my apartment in State College ends about a week after the race, so rather than camp, I decided to stay at my college apartment one last weekend. Before getting to my apartment, though, I did a pre-ride with Zach and Simon Friday afternoon in Rothrock.<div><br /></div><div>We parked at the Galbraith Lot (near Tussey Ski Area) and rode the classic coat hanger loop: Dylan's Path - Tussey Ridge - Lonberger. I think it's safe to say that Tussey Ridge will forever me by favorite trail in Pennsylvania, and probably the country, so even though it's not in the race, I made it part of the pre-ride.</div><div><br /></div><div>Most of the ride was uneventful, until I was descending down the last rock garden toward Kettle Trail. As I started down the rocks, I heard a weird noise in the woods around me. I couldn't figure out what it was, until I saw a large rattlesnake on a rock right next to the trail. Luckily, I rode past the snake - within a foot or two - without it striking at me. As soon as I got past it, I stopped and yelled out for Zach and Simon to stop. We spent some figuring out what to do, because Zach and Simon weren't too keen on walking right past a venomous rattlesnake. </div><div><br /></div><div>Suddenly, the snake stopped rattling, and I asked "what does that mean?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"It means you can pick it up now", Simon said.</div><div><br /></div><div>We all laughed. I didn't try that.</div><div><br /></div><div>After a while, we were able to prod the snake away with a long branch, and we got on our way. It was a massive snake, easily the biggest rattlesnake I've ever seen, and I guess you could say it was a good sign for the weekend ahead.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOhiztwUnEeazIurKKPwPv08Iq4m7RPPxqPb52z0MOtJjjYrXl0zDye9ceJyI4UsYOpAxM6BK64WtKA3xdFvFn-DW1qTHbHSbTNf2JfLMuwbzV3pfz2MLmgSAdy88QsZcnBfmRzGrwEnoH9PR6hb9agakLYNYeCLSMBRS6drPDukFtZtB6YzTRUsXtYFg/s1216/IMG_6844.heic" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1216" data-original-width="912" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOhiztwUnEeazIurKKPwPv08Iq4m7RPPxqPb52z0MOtJjjYrXl0zDye9ceJyI4UsYOpAxM6BK64WtKA3xdFvFn-DW1qTHbHSbTNf2JfLMuwbzV3pfz2MLmgSAdy88QsZcnBfmRzGrwEnoH9PR6hb9agakLYNYeCLSMBRS6drPDukFtZtB6YzTRUsXtYFg/w299-h398/IMG_6844.heic" width="299" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rattlesnake on Tussey Ridge (near Kettle intersection)</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div>After the ride, Zach and I drove to Coburn to pick up our packets and hang out some more with Simon at his camper. On the ride we just finished, my back brake was squeezing straight to the bar without working at all, so I scoured the campground for someone that had extra SRAM dot fluid. You see, I had my entire bleed kit, but not oil, so I was no beuno.</div><div><br /></div><div>Luckily, a friendly fellow at Joe Worboy's campsite had some extra fluid for me. I quickly and successfully bled my brake, picked up my number plate, and dropped off my drop bags, all in the span of an hour or so. I dare say it's the most productive I've been in a while.</div><div><br /></div><div>I hung out at the park for a while longer until Ian got there, and then we all went out to get Mexican back in State College. A car caught fire in the parking lot. I ate some fajitas. Typical stuff. Then I dropped my brother off at his hotel and Ian and I went back to my apartment.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ian tried to get me to learn how to play "Wish You Were Here" on his guitar (I forgot mine), but I was a slow learner. I have since learned the basic intro, though. Anyways, I went to bed a little later than I planned and set the alarm for 5 AM.</div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEKbC1c_7eIJjHvfVaTY-_GBU1CUUKc4FdbOThUPVVi6q9YkztcRpS6Rhj7_navBQwRlmsBNbKRCk8xadVUrdtank48ktF_GhP7ZhLZqS5gmlAmo6FZmImQCINoiZOllP2XUQ9G5GXUPTs5y2OR0BCP0MT_mDWixM_wlh9SBWhgIHnkEEbBuE9B_Iq38I/s1600/image000000.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEKbC1c_7eIJjHvfVaTY-_GBU1CUUKc4FdbOThUPVVi6q9YkztcRpS6Rhj7_navBQwRlmsBNbKRCk8xadVUrdtank48ktF_GhP7ZhLZqS5gmlAmo6FZmImQCINoiZOllP2XUQ9G5GXUPTs5y2OR0BCP0MT_mDWixM_wlh9SBWhgIHnkEEbBuE9B_Iq38I/w543-h306/image000000.JPG" width="543" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Start line of the W101</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The race morning did not go exactly as planned. I got about three miles from my apartment when I realized I left my water bottles in my refrigerator. Oops. I raced back, grabbed them, and then raced to Coburn. I got to the start at about 6:40, and with a 7:00 AM start, I had plenty of time. Sort of.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">On the start line, I was happy to find some fellow singlespeeders to line up next to. Scott, Nate, and Dave were all in the front row with me. The neutral roll out was not so neutral for me on 32x19, and I was alternating between tucking and spinning on the flat pavement road on the way to the first climb. I was almost already regretting not doing 32x18.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We hit the first climb, and I was able to position myself toward the front so I wouldn't miss any breakaways. There never really was a breakaway, but eventually I looked back and realized the front group had been narrowed down to the group of 10 riders I was in. Surprisingly, I actually felt really good on the climb. We were going at a good pace, but very sustainable for me. However, when we got near the top and started hitting some flat sections, it was clear I was going to struggle to keep up on the flats.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sure enough, as we turned onto the flatter Mountain Church Road at the top of the climb, the leaders all pedaled away from me. There was no way I could spin my 32x19 gear fast enough, and just like that, I was in no-mans land. Back in 2021, I was able to stay with the leaders all the way until mile 25, but I had no chance this year. After talking with some friends in the lead group, it seems like they all hammered pretty hard on the flats, harder than usual. I guess I don't feel too bad about dropping, but it was still a stupid move by me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The gravel section after the first climb is a pretty miserable one. It's so flat, and I was pretty blown out from my effort on the first climb and trying to spin with the leaders. Sure enough, a couple geared riders blew past me. If I was fresher, I would've tried drafting them, but I was trying to recover and I let them get by. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Eventually, Matt Ferrari, the second place singlespeeder, came up behind me. I had no choice but to stick with him and his group. Thankfully, they weren't going super hard on the flats, and I stuck with them no problem.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When we approached the first aid station, I asked Matt if he was going to stop. I borderline had enough water to get to aid two, but since Matt said he was stopping, I figured I'd stop as well. I wouldn't feel right about dropping the other lead singlespeeder by blowing past a stop like that.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The climb out of aid one was Thickhead Mountain. It's a moderately steep doubletrack climb of about 600 vertical feet. Matt was on my tail at the bottom of the climb, so I slowly dialed up the pace. I was feeling pretty decent, but I was still avoiding going all out for now. Eventually, I hopped on to the front of another group ahead of me and slowly increased the pace there. I think I inadvertantly popped that group, and before long, it was now only me and two other riders spaced slightly apart. I was able to put a gap on Matt, and I never saw another singlespeeder the rest of the race.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The next miles of the race went by about as good as they could for how blown out I felt. I climbed Laurel Run Road pretty slowly, but then I ripped New Laurel descent and passed a rider halfway down. The subsequent Bear Gap climb was tough, but I felt a little better, and then I ripped Croyle Run Trail, which boosted the spirit. I passed one person on Croyle, but a second rider wouldn't let me pass. Understandable, it wasn't that far to the bottom, but it did mess up my mojo.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">From Croyle, the course takes gravel to Dutch Alvin Trail, which is a sandy and exposed trail in Coopers Gap. That trails leads to aid station three, which then goes directly into the Kettle Road Climb. The climb up Kettle was not as bad as I feared, and it gave me some hope ripping into Sassafrass Trail. I really felt good on Sassafrass and Pigpile, so I blasted those trails pretty fast. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I passed Zach on Pigpile Trail, but shortly after, my leg started cramping. I've never experienced anything like that before, but my right quad started seizing up and becoming extremely painful. I always sort of thought of cramps as mild, but this one was quite sharp and severe. I punched my leg a few times while riding and eased off slightly, and the cramp went away. Fortunately, I was able to stay ahead of Zach and the other rider I passed on the trail. The cramps came back again, but I was able to push through once more.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Except for the cramps, I felt pretty good in the following miles and loved riding on all my favorite rocky trails. The descent toward aid station four is perhaps my favorite of all in the race: No Name Trail. It's steep and rocky, and easily the gnarliest trail in the race (that's rideable). I ripped that trail pretty fast, and Strava tells me I had the fastest time on that trail for the race.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After No Name was aid station four, which leads to the infamous Stillhouse Hollow climb. I grabbed some more water and food at the aid station and left full of energy and excitement to climb Stillhouse. Seriously. I was oddly excited.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Stillhouse sucked as usual, but in a not-as-bad-as-it-could-have-been way. I tried to take it a little easier so I didn't cramp, and it seemed to work. But like I said, it's a 900 foot climb over 9% grade, and it's rocky. So yeah, it's still hard.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After Stillhouse, I really started to notice one of my other issues for the day. My stomach was extremely bloated, and although I was having some stomach issues all day, it wasn't until later in the race that it affected me. Nothing I could do except harden up, so I unzipped my jersey to relieve some pressure. Seriously, my jersey went from perfectly-fitting at the start to not-fitting-at-all toward the end. I was really not doing great.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">From Stillhouse to the final aid station at mile 88 is my least favorite stretch. There's a lot of gravel, deceptive climbing, and, like I said, I wasn't feeling too great, so this year was especially tough. After the last aid station, though, I got a second wind.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I've always thought the last 12 miles to the finish are very straightforward: rail-trail, big climb, impossible rocky trail, and more flat rail-trail and road to the finish. As I got to the base of the last climb, I saw a couple guys behind me who seemed to be pedaling a slow cadence. I feared they were singlespeeders who had caught me, but luckily, they were geared guys. I still wanted to beat them, though, so I turned up the pace and put a gap on them on the climb. I was very motivated to finish under 8 hours, so I stayed ahead of the geared guys to the finish.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As I approached the finish, I felt very satisfied with myself. It wasn't my fastest race, and I felt pretty crappy, but I pushed through and never once even thought about backing down or being soft. Plus, I got the singlespeed win and finished 9th overall with some serious hammers in the top 10. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The fun doesn't stop with the finish line, though. I had so many friends doing the race that it felt like a big party afterward. I cheered on Simon as he finished 2nd SS in the 100km, and we all cheered on Colleen as she finished 2nd overall in the women's 100km. Plus, before I finished, my brother had got 5th overall in the 100km and Anthony won the 100km. My dad also came across the line a little later and we all cheered him on as well. He shaved about 30 minutes off his time from the year before. Once again, a pretty successful day for Pittsburgh. Outside of my Pittsburgh friends, Ian had a strong finish in the 100 mile (he smoked me by quite a bit) and seeing all my singlespeed friends have a strong day was really awesome.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There was some post race barbecue food, so a group of us sat down under the pavilion to eat and share stories from the race. It was a good time. I don't see a lot of those people very often, so every race feels like a reunion of sorts, which is pretty neat.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_xNGt4znmtldy8yj2_EGMrOlj_jF-JnJM8K9zdm4PzLuvvvs2SSdchd50xwGBwJeTQzPQIDOKJ8kw_rYaVusWdrygN_N3pAqWYF6MUPTOOb9GDcuSXNqb7hoUzVUzsW1CL2lt5keR_NgNAwkG8JoIh3sWz-qSfgeuPAubwcjcL2xHcZArJwVGj_2OBc/s2253/IMG_9631.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2253" data-original-width="1690" height="381" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_xNGt4znmtldy8yj2_EGMrOlj_jF-JnJM8K9zdm4PzLuvvvs2SSdchd50xwGBwJeTQzPQIDOKJ8kw_rYaVusWdrygN_N3pAqWYF6MUPTOOb9GDcuSXNqb7hoUzVUzsW1CL2lt5keR_NgNAwkG8JoIh3sWz-qSfgeuPAubwcjcL2xHcZArJwVGj_2OBc/w286-h381/IMG_9631.JPG" width="286" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coming across the finish line</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div>Before I move on to the post-ride on Sunday, I want to write a little of my own reflections on the race. I know that sounds like some soft bullshit, but I really do like looking back at my old blogs and seeing what I thought. You forget things over time, so writing them down helps me remember.</div><div><br /></div><div>Overall, the race was successful, I mean, I won singlespeed, which was my goal. But besides that, I made a lot of mistakes and had some issues. For one, I made the mistake of going up the first climb with the lead group of riders. By the top, there were only 10 of us, and no other singlespeeders, so it was looking like a repeat of 2021. This time, however, the geared guys hammered on the flats after the climb and I couldn't spin fast enough. I got dropped, passed on the long flat stretches by a couple riders, and eventually latched onto a small group with second place (at the time) singlespeeder Matt. So basically, I could've just hung back on the climb with Matt, been in the exact same position, and been way fresher. Instead, I was totally blown out, and 400 watts felt impossible the rest of the day.</div><div><br /></div><div>Besides my opening climb mistake, which haunted me the whole race, I also had a lot of stomach issues. I had ran out of Flow Formulas and thought I could make do for one race with other drink mix, but it ended up being quite unpleasant.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyone who knows me knows that I dislike being an advertisement for brands. I just don't like feeling obligated to praise a product. That said, to be totally honest, Flow Formulas works very well for me and it's the best I've used.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6uQ5LQDP1ws1Fm3B-D4qDIpFTdwpPS_xcP2pRYQ2H2kPklNMISNZE59Xg-LUsuCPlzDm0ni-m3wgbIIGkje7nIkyJXh2r3PRPTROdkvR_T7ir9ypQoGAEx8I6gM50jy2aDO_2JGh2WJszaIcXmfamBdwAx5UPkXZgGt9RPE0iAWhWE8RdTUFJghQuCwc/s4032/IMG_9649.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6uQ5LQDP1ws1Fm3B-D4qDIpFTdwpPS_xcP2pRYQ2H2kPklNMISNZE59Xg-LUsuCPlzDm0ni-m3wgbIIGkje7nIkyJXh2r3PRPTROdkvR_T7ir9ypQoGAEx8I6gM50jy2aDO_2JGh2WJszaIcXmfamBdwAx5UPkXZgGt9RPE0iAWhWE8RdTUFJghQuCwc/s320/IMG_9649.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcxH2CiYlbqCoJ8PbDRUzopsH5WnuC-wVx3F84Y11_kFvwFduEmOvrRlP-9PftKVNOM9Y0rrXDLmhdD9yBCR8veNompDDmpZEeMeZ9__P440YYyReSrXl4XZsEGXlmgHgjlO0qV96ISjI0W-vrAGmGO8O20-s-OqMh_YHkwc-UQcXK7rGsfGYo18Z5Y-E/s2719/IMG_9644.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2719" data-original-width="2436" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcxH2CiYlbqCoJ8PbDRUzopsH5WnuC-wVx3F84Y11_kFvwFduEmOvrRlP-9PftKVNOM9Y0rrXDLmhdD9yBCR8veNompDDmpZEeMeZ9__P440YYyReSrXl4XZsEGXlmgHgjlO0qV96ISjI0W-vrAGmGO8O20-s-OqMh_YHkwc-UQcXK7rGsfGYo18Z5Y-E/s320/IMG_9644.JPG" width="287" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Chatting after the race with Gordon (L) and Simon (R)</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;">On Sunday, the day after the race when we were all super tired, I planned a fun ride in Rothrock with my brother and Simon. We hit all the rockiest trails I could think of from the Galbraith Parking lot, and much suffering was had. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIz_EXNTIj6JMLDzVyfAnp4vH4xlsPBHwvjVTQ2WmQ2vFtQcOCckmnBtzoGYB1g4dWMm7PGkGAy2b1IUte_uLIiLC1-KAtqvBi67nH2PatohxOaoU8i0IZ14CqNc71JdwjhAbZQ_IogcxpK9hWBMEvoiMKCKBRdTaDzbTEiMnpFT63xZAHI250Ybj99Bs/s1170/IMG_6916.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="658" data-original-width="1170" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIz_EXNTIj6JMLDzVyfAnp4vH4xlsPBHwvjVTQ2WmQ2vFtQcOCckmnBtzoGYB1g4dWMm7PGkGAy2b1IUte_uLIiLC1-KAtqvBi67nH2PatohxOaoU8i0IZ14CqNc71JdwjhAbZQ_IogcxpK9hWBMEvoiMKCKBRdTaDzbTEiMnpFT63xZAHI250Ybj99Bs/w519-h292/IMG_6916.jpg" width="519" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Highline Vista on the post-race ride with Zach and Simon</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I took us on Bald Knob (all the way out), Charcoal Flats, Highline Vista, and then we finished with a couple rowdy descents: Sand Springs and Spruce Gap. Of all the trails I've ridden in Rothrock, I think Spruce Gap is the gnarliest. It's steep, has enough rocks to keep you honest, and did I say it was steep?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I warned Zach and Simon before we did it to be careful, and tried to point out what lines to take. Unfortunately, Simon had a little crash at the top and bent his finger and cut himself up a little bit. He said he was trying to traverse to the side line at the top, but caught his wheel on a rock and went over the bars. He was in good spirits, but it seemed like a pretty tough one for him. Oops, I did feel slightly bad about it, especially because I've always talked about how Spruce Gap would be treacherous at the end of a ride. Oh well, I've actually gotten used to it now, so it's not that crazy for me anymore.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQyFl9ec4VIjCBGP4nLq3zY_ERGY97NZPzEu_8rjIQB0eNiQkdGB8UosAitWVM-m7WPQ7DXe3aJeloaPt5-r062fBOYxBNETM5VDk7OhCtNjSIdxr_ra0wlYtrDJjdRsBsEOSCYI7g9-R9z2uETB0jjJkwHlMNAEoAwbWokQ71HtHJRpVDmTlBO7DiJzs/s4032/IMG_6882.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQyFl9ec4VIjCBGP4nLq3zY_ERGY97NZPzEu_8rjIQB0eNiQkdGB8UosAitWVM-m7WPQ7DXe3aJeloaPt5-r062fBOYxBNETM5VDk7OhCtNjSIdxr_ra0wlYtrDJjdRsBsEOSCYI7g9-R9z2uETB0jjJkwHlMNAEoAwbWokQ71HtHJRpVDmTlBO7DiJzs/s320/IMG_6882.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjfjshRqPprqf7RkbAE4I8sNoSsMCXD2uwfb3i8Ie1ZMtF_2XFD408tnKKmMgbHxhMEYfC3g_Gg7POd0CocAEpaf-thyhMfzNEKT03lc3rNlSxr2Y6gPQj2QtueS3a4nupW03Uy2N0YTm3Pl0x-PlNQDW2VFbwjyBHSjbN42f-YcJqlvWnZp9CuP-pSM/s4032/IMG_6880.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjfjshRqPprqf7RkbAE4I8sNoSsMCXD2uwfb3i8Ie1ZMtF_2XFD408tnKKmMgbHxhMEYfC3g_Gg7POd0CocAEpaf-thyhMfzNEKT03lc3rNlSxr2Y6gPQj2QtueS3a4nupW03Uy2N0YTm3Pl0x-PlNQDW2VFbwjyBHSjbN42f-YcJqlvWnZp9CuP-pSM/s320/IMG_6880.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Laurel Fire Tower and Highline Vista</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After the ride, I had to move out of my apartment, which meant packing up the U-Haul while I was extremely tired. It wasn't fun, but we got it done. With that, my time living in State College is over, at least for now. It's a pretty cool place, and I could definitely see living there in the future. Who knows, maybe I'll join the ranks of my friend Brad and others who went to school at Penn State and ended up living there after college. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Well, I really rambled on in this one, but it's over now. I need to try and make these things shorter, but I have such a hard time leaving stuff out. You see, when I write, my brain just sort of flows through streams of thoughts, and I type them down as fast as I can. If I ignored some words to trim down the blog post, I wouldn't feel quite right. I guess it's happening again now, so I'll just cut myself off before I make an even bigger fool of myself. Until next time.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiZJZqoLMEO-4PB__x-68Dwybmm_kLFEzqpGO7tOabL-s-VYdOGigRLNsCUmb_7lDjx7x0LdzqpgKvhusYxtXB1crXplzB_vNKfc8mkjrZv0CkxK9IDloCk0PKikUiDmC5tumjZP_n2O_5kK-LkBQsZLIygn6KYSoyKLXoMcO0_jkokue6iApt74UgM-k/s4032/IMG_6890.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiZJZqoLMEO-4PB__x-68Dwybmm_kLFEzqpGO7tOabL-s-VYdOGigRLNsCUmb_7lDjx7x0LdzqpgKvhusYxtXB1crXplzB_vNKfc8mkjrZv0CkxK9IDloCk0PKikUiDmC5tumjZP_n2O_5kK-LkBQsZLIygn6KYSoyKLXoMcO0_jkokue6iApt74UgM-k/s320/IMG_6890.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY0Nr12rlMOSJXP2DuYuVywmWJEWjpqN6yatiUqvQUUcmKEiMsGjhXai0fHVOUc8sX2UD6edRveEx2HYllvlpFtSaLkvkT6kSYoQRN6a5gDZezgLLtuB_Tdp1r0fOaVZymQfinWDURMT4xjzY0s1m_p4ew8eQWkvxjCPFSRyJrlLKg4po1-N1ZAqYI8E8/s4032/IMG_6885.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY0Nr12rlMOSJXP2DuYuVywmWJEWjpqN6yatiUqvQUUcmKEiMsGjhXai0fHVOUc8sX2UD6edRveEx2HYllvlpFtSaLkvkT6kSYoQRN6a5gDZezgLLtuB_Tdp1r0fOaVZymQfinWDURMT4xjzY0s1m_p4ew8eQWkvxjCPFSRyJrlLKg4po1-N1ZAqYI8E8/s320/IMG_6885.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Simon coming down Spruce Gap; Simon's wounds from Spruce Gap</i></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Some of the other podium pictures for posterity:</div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2vNI_aVeMe0Xc5_tURVQfHpLsRHpSrcADnziqfAMUx2ejWJJ5XNt2Bp6fFNBY8UjpzKfAp0iPGFoXvfybLahTVGA6E-0YmU9Ih_RY4vYq09CP1_fk4mjzsiY65aH9cSb5fcqYYVSvuyWBUI5Hlmr8q6Dm5j-olBV8dHfiPbjbuTBhVWBkZMDKmAjxYYs/s4032/IMG_6860.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2vNI_aVeMe0Xc5_tURVQfHpLsRHpSrcADnziqfAMUx2ejWJJ5XNt2Bp6fFNBY8UjpzKfAp0iPGFoXvfybLahTVGA6E-0YmU9Ih_RY4vYq09CP1_fk4mjzsiY65aH9cSb5fcqYYVSvuyWBUI5Hlmr8q6Dm5j-olBV8dHfiPbjbuTBhVWBkZMDKmAjxYYs/s320/IMG_6860.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQoAGtCbcrAKumxXO4VaWP5xHK_yPDbOGCNHVF36eJ-_8H4oG3QRBEa_UDWm5qblejtq3GgV2i276RlwQwtU4jUAOsXx2KYf77qHUARO06FS3W6yDxjnq2H6ApvSUB6gRdHAanHHBd2H9z-2-ZXeUvyaGOBq_9CS80ox-2NaldxTz7tNX-3grVOgWcaE/s4032/IMG_6858.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQoAGtCbcrAKumxXO4VaWP5xHK_yPDbOGCNHVF36eJ-_8H4oG3QRBEa_UDWm5qblejtq3GgV2i276RlwQwtU4jUAOsXx2KYf77qHUARO06FS3W6yDxjnq2H6ApvSUB6gRdHAanHHBd2H9z-2-ZXeUvyaGOBq_9CS80ox-2NaldxTz7tNX-3grVOgWcaE/s320/IMG_6858.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>100k women's podium (Colleen in 2nd!) and 100k SS podium (Simon with 2nd!)</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG92OjKhkI1endzUzuPJwjPEhNj7NvUozGfVRjB8mHVqQsnUR3087ig3Ld83hBa5pShduhYqqoygXo71jkh1UAgaAWv2vbx2ImslPaCtvDPUhffm6LcJvgdN2SXqB7dhlZ0H9fby5qrxdeZhxKJ84EzWn_P8DEaufiLQ1qD5e7Roz8IeFHnxU122wD8vM/s4032/6DAB5FE4-418F-412C-A628-08591BFA5FA4_Original.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG92OjKhkI1endzUzuPJwjPEhNj7NvUozGfVRjB8mHVqQsnUR3087ig3Ld83hBa5pShduhYqqoygXo71jkh1UAgaAWv2vbx2ImslPaCtvDPUhffm6LcJvgdN2SXqB7dhlZ0H9fby5qrxdeZhxKJ84EzWn_P8DEaufiLQ1qD5e7Roz8IeFHnxU122wD8vM/s320/6DAB5FE4-418F-412C-A628-08591BFA5FA4_Original.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">100k open mens podium (Anthony with the win and Zach with 5th!)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p></div>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-89478621285834714432023-07-09T06:56:00.002-04:002023-09-07T11:18:54.211-04:00Mr. Hamburgers Goes to Park CityForget about training zones, intervals, and power numbers. Forget about silly things like rest or recovery. And most of all, forget about shifting gears. After all, this is Dahn Pahr's Park City Singlespeed Training Camp, and you only get one gear. But don't worry, you're allowed to have more than just one margarita, so maybe it balances out.<div><br /></div><div>I've been fortunate to have ridden in some pretty great places over the past few years. From the Canadian Rockies of Banff to the high-desert of Moab, it's a wild world out there. But still, of all the places I've ridden, I think it's hard to beat Park City for riding singletrack day-in and day-out. </div><div><br /></div><div>You see, lots of places have incredible trails. But what most places don't have - and what Park City does have - is an almost endless <i>amount</i> of trails. It's quality <i>and</i> quantity. Dahn and I rode over 320 miles in 8 days, and each day was something different. That's something that can't be said about most other places. Plus, the equally-as-important factor about Park City is that Dahn lives there, and I had a place to stay. I don't mind sleeping in my tent or the back of my Subaru Outback, but I must admit, a big comfortable bed and air conditioning is a huge step up.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD3pNquBqAAydf5lzeCKYQCxp_MasiHox0Do3jSPlaopJSD5QEtY3o2NrH--Mytjr5JI0zmWwgzp_rJ4Ti1aiy7UGbxCG6nI7-WsER6uEBwY_5bQ6IoqSV4X7ZDyIcopJFkGYLzzGYyv8wnF4Mj14LFJYjdY1OaLumBa85KUA7ZITDWEUKVxTV8q8wtUU/s4032/IMG_6180.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD3pNquBqAAydf5lzeCKYQCxp_MasiHox0Do3jSPlaopJSD5QEtY3o2NrH--Mytjr5JI0zmWwgzp_rJ4Ti1aiy7UGbxCG6nI7-WsER6uEBwY_5bQ6IoqSV4X7ZDyIcopJFkGYLzzGYyv8wnF4Mj14LFJYjdY1OaLumBa85KUA7ZITDWEUKVxTV8q8wtUU/s320/IMG_6180.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVX-Yv9aS-m-gr40oSjMC05GWlaSTI8DvdbpRHdXOoIjXLC92_iXwgOtzK-crjv0iLQRSz_WUpSnONfGnAxz-Gobtk3MasbL4td4bziqS3GKWook95rqTywqDBBEgsjkdk1byAuX6WnJ1_eIbQaTh6tVWEie1-P9tOG9t8ifMNgWc3XcEB9DpHHn6KAsM/s4032/IMG_6163.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVX-Yv9aS-m-gr40oSjMC05GWlaSTI8DvdbpRHdXOoIjXLC92_iXwgOtzK-crjv0iLQRSz_WUpSnONfGnAxz-Gobtk3MasbL4td4bziqS3GKWook95rqTywqDBBEgsjkdk1byAuX6WnJ1_eIbQaTh6tVWEie1-P9tOG9t8ifMNgWc3XcEB9DpHHn6KAsM/s320/IMG_6163.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mid Mountain Trail (L); climbing up to Mid Mountain Trail near the Olympic Park (R)</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div><br /></div><div>I got to Park City on a Sunday evening after driving from Steamboat Springs, Colorado. That evening, we took a cruise in Dahn's pimp-mobile (the white, lifted Lexus GX470 with gold wheels) and checked out some of the mountain scenery around the area. It's pretty neat how much variety there is around Park City; the landscape changes from desert to alpine in a matter of miles, and even the alpine terrain varies between open meadows and jagged, rocky summits.</div><div><br /></div><div>We went out for our first ride Monday afternoon, and Dahn started off by going up a pretty strenuous climb (at least for singlespeed) past the Utah Olympic Park. It's pretty cool to ride by the huge ski jumps that were used in the 2002 Winter Olympics. After the climb, we hopped on Mid-Mountain Trail, a long trail that runs all the way along the mountain down past Park City Mountain Resort. For my first ride in Park City, it was a good one, and a tough one.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next day was the first so-called "death march" of my visit. A "death march" doesn't have a strict definition <i>per se</i>, but it's acquired a colloquial meaning among my friends: a ride that is likely to result in significant suffering. Plus, in addition to the plain suffering, there needs to be an element of distance involved, that is, you're suffering and you still have a long way to go until you get home.</div><div><br /></div><div>The ride on Tuesday checked those boxes, perhaps even more so for Dahn than for me. After a long climb on mostly singletrack to Empire Pass (9,000 feet elevation), we descended down W.O.W. Trail (Wasatch-Over-Wasatch) all the way to 6,300 feet elevation. It was an amazingly unique descent, marked by several distinct climates: an aspen forest, a pine forest, and, near the bottom, a desert landscape with only smaller shrubs.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNQsgpMhwqd5xvluVPbBlumbMk53H-ErGsbEU9qUwhr3vbrnz3bYDgJWWycL1urft5nS9Q0W4FlgxD0XIK7pCinI_MDFPjAe7J8hwrnVk9O9C0w-CnohTgRhMxnFZzUJKiU5RIESYWnYQ-wcOV3_2fpIgGmMbDh3crCi0GaZUx53Qzz6l4AeUhDVrBze0/s4032/IMG_6203.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNQsgpMhwqd5xvluVPbBlumbMk53H-ErGsbEU9qUwhr3vbrnz3bYDgJWWycL1urft5nS9Q0W4FlgxD0XIK7pCinI_MDFPjAe7J8hwrnVk9O9C0w-CnohTgRhMxnFZzUJKiU5RIESYWnYQ-wcOV3_2fpIgGmMbDh3crCi0GaZUx53Qzz6l4AeUhDVrBze0/s320/IMG_6203.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS2P6WpSXRL0yPtDMOsasWa1pbRSWA4l9G0mmFFZZNQcIW0QUPhNS7KauSiLQYdLSCeLmHkrZNWYXL90E79TFbzQmIR9vzEnTVQ0ssvWU0MAYD_YcO5UnxUOslkuTXImHAI9tbMf2KYejtjxlld53srWBQNe-CnEUFyIpiqO-p1DBD5OQ54Ludv_Y1c5o/s4032/IMG_6204.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS2P6WpSXRL0yPtDMOsasWa1pbRSWA4l9G0mmFFZZNQcIW0QUPhNS7KauSiLQYdLSCeLmHkrZNWYXL90E79TFbzQmIR9vzEnTVQ0ssvWU0MAYD_YcO5UnxUOslkuTXImHAI9tbMf2KYejtjxlld53srWBQNe-CnEUFyIpiqO-p1DBD5OQ54Ludv_Y1c5o/s320/IMG_6204.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Top of Empire Pass the first time; W.O.W. Trail</i></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div>Once at the bottom, there was a somber mood. We knew what lie ahead: a grueling 2,700 foot pavement climb back up to Empire Pass. Having driven down the road on Sunday with Dahn and his wife Jenn, I knew it was going to be a grind, especially on a heavy steel 32x20 singlespeed mountain bike.</div><div><br /></div><div>Right as we started climbing, the road kicked up to 20% grade. It was fully exposed, and the hot Utah sun was doing its best to cook us. It let up slightly, but before long, another steep pitch came. It continued like this for a while, and at last, I was able to settle into something of a rhythm. The time actually went by fairly quickly, and before I knew it, I was at the top. Dahn got there just a couple minutes after, and told me he reached his new max heart rate for the year, twice actually, on the climb. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirykpvqu0j7dTCRPVPuC_-FOvdrQ5PIWX1h5IhKDWMv2qJ-mxtiMGh8YenqXEqaBs9uTLWsD2DE7dc56RDpXHqkFMcRZyuZPoRuQAPLc5xNmxYmGUmozEQkfx1G3foYigd8tC58Tb5DrGNLMeR7cHlt7ASUZgPy8zHuZFpH2IkTx3pKLmQlJiVoqOBka4/s4032/IMG_6217.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirykpvqu0j7dTCRPVPuC_-FOvdrQ5PIWX1h5IhKDWMv2qJ-mxtiMGh8YenqXEqaBs9uTLWsD2DE7dc56RDpXHqkFMcRZyuZPoRuQAPLc5xNmxYmGUmozEQkfx1G3foYigd8tC58Tb5DrGNLMeR7cHlt7ASUZgPy8zHuZFpH2IkTx3pKLmQlJiVoqOBka4/s320/IMG_6217.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi730PbJHhWVq_OekdUeuVitGhrkI0tnsNt7TjqX96E9Q0gpDmNJez7nvpIAzue4QUqdwBHvdPdQXi7Oamv31dxmkjMNJr3fHSyZ_8yA1ADO4COP-Y-4h4lXoX87jzf9FWs_1lZPCKN7lCxR99J2PCfZbJledQ4fDOKS2giZfA8lBXKAN3GwgiZN0FPL0s/s4032/IMG_6222.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi730PbJHhWVq_OekdUeuVitGhrkI0tnsNt7TjqX96E9Q0gpDmNJez7nvpIAzue4QUqdwBHvdPdQXi7Oamv31dxmkjMNJr3fHSyZ_8yA1ADO4COP-Y-4h4lXoX87jzf9FWs_1lZPCKN7lCxR99J2PCfZbJledQ4fDOKS2giZfA8lBXKAN3GwgiZN0FPL0s/s320/IMG_6222.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>The iconic classic car along the trail at Round Valley; a patch of snow in late June</i></div><div><br /></div><div>For the next several days, a solid pattern emerged: explore some new-to-me trails, do some suffering on the steeps, and then have a few margaritas after dinner. Now, mind you, we weren't just doing easy hour cruises. Even though the W.O.W. Trail death march was grueling, and even though we were doing a similarly hard ride the coming Saturday, we made sure to ride at least three or four hours every day.</div><div><br /></div><br /><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7WyugV79HuvMaep6hGrRP6GQowPYropDwgc19WyTo7jCQsT8JKsEckpSLpNVyxmVDVOtIxIGxJfFVYXzhtW7QvQFyuid81hSrf2L7XI4WV60BdXZuENU6jcgr4QtvpHk8Vfhet_7qhWdzf5UwMjr-8vkHLEhqO_VVHXwmTl9OnDnwaDRkM-x5JlfyZw/s4032/70891264635__13FBB79A-A1B7-4A0E-A8F8-CA409BDB94B0.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7WyugV79HuvMaep6hGrRP6GQowPYropDwgc19WyTo7jCQsT8JKsEckpSLpNVyxmVDVOtIxIGxJfFVYXzhtW7QvQFyuid81hSrf2L7XI4WV60BdXZuENU6jcgr4QtvpHk8Vfhet_7qhWdzf5UwMjr-8vkHLEhqO_VVHXwmTl9OnDnwaDRkM-x5JlfyZw/s320/70891264635__13FBB79A-A1B7-4A0E-A8F8-CA409BDB94B0.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTXgckPKo6LALbFIsD7-dKL6sKu_RfzRhoR49bvHcodx8Hu2HhY7p98oU5MGFMiqNrRShyXM1hoxHhFZ11AzQXl7Ll6FcDov9NSRHhdxzaxz7NxNCYmo8OQww8mOqYRyZMxsezwO15Hi6OqWhadGlHL0a19pCOf3A26hKlE994HodtjgMGR9Azw2QJT_Y/s4032/IMG_6270.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTXgckPKo6LALbFIsD7-dKL6sKu_RfzRhoR49bvHcodx8Hu2HhY7p98oU5MGFMiqNrRShyXM1hoxHhFZ11AzQXl7Ll6FcDov9NSRHhdxzaxz7NxNCYmo8OQww8mOqYRyZMxsezwO15Hi6OqWhadGlHL0a19pCOf3A26hKlE994HodtjgMGR9Azw2QJT_Y/s320/IMG_6270.HEIC" width="240" /></a><br /><i>Margarita time; Dahn posing by a sign he skis past all winter</i><br /><br /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">The whole week, Dahn had been planning and telling me about our second death march ride: the MoPi route. MoPi, short for Mormon Pioneer, is a fairly long trail to the northwest of Park City, pretty much in the exact opposite direction of most of the trails we had ridden. The route would take us over to that trail, make a loop of it, and ride some more rugged trails on the way back.</span></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><br /></div><div>We got an early start on Saturday for the ride, and headed toward the Summit Park trails in the beginning. We hadn't ridden them yet, so the route even started off with new-to-me trails. It was a pretty mellow (relatively) climb, followed by a nice flowy descent, and then on to the first throat punch of the day. After crossing I-80 on pavement, we veered off onto a gravel climb. Being the cocky son-of-a-bitch I am (not really), I thought maybe Dahn was full of it, and I would clean the climb (clean means ride up it without getting off to walk, for those who don't habla).</div><div><br /></div><div>I was wrong. Within a minute, we were both walking. One of my favorite mantras is that "it isn't a ride unless there's hike-a-bike". Don't get me wrong, I prefer riding, but hike-a-bikes are part-and-parcel of singlespeeding, so I've learned to embrace them.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIRnvvz2g9N43d2ECZH0j5YBdYJArJBzrBgjIMKp6EF7fkG-0UvYAQXgevaH_vDkQrYUEuxrx-_0Msspl8WQIAhSWAzdja3kfVflm6ChRU37medUg4S7XZu2uBQufHsiwjv4ZcAGBUdXpOcDvQx1c6H6uDhL9ehmMseNkk-zcx6I66695L2ut7mrDCUpM/s4032/IMG_6298.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIRnvvz2g9N43d2ECZH0j5YBdYJArJBzrBgjIMKp6EF7fkG-0UvYAQXgevaH_vDkQrYUEuxrx-_0Msspl8WQIAhSWAzdja3kfVflm6ChRU37medUg4S7XZu2uBQufHsiwjv4ZcAGBUdXpOcDvQx1c6H6uDhL9ehmMseNkk-zcx6I66695L2ut7mrDCUpM/s320/IMG_6298.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8N8s-YmUaUa5_DU6wHTS3cWZsx-E68xU9eedmAC4szyaiTn4nVGGR6_fYj5qbB1JzitTFPYCJZv49ZCjQScjalFK9w97bmsYzXrifbwmu_I991RsE4EJ_tlg6Ish5hPhuRHP2i9ZnPExuJFQRWddsfxxGmRTiCactOYUDGTMGAPFcuGoltFbQxRvmPbQ/s4032/IMG_6309.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8N8s-YmUaUa5_DU6wHTS3cWZsx-E68xU9eedmAC4szyaiTn4nVGGR6_fYj5qbB1JzitTFPYCJZv49ZCjQScjalFK9w97bmsYzXrifbwmu_I991RsE4EJ_tlg6Ish5hPhuRHP2i9ZnPExuJFQRWddsfxxGmRTiCactOYUDGTMGAPFcuGoltFbQxRvmPbQ/s320/IMG_6309.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>The hike-a-bike up to the motorcyclists and the Great Western Trail</i></div><div><br /></div><div>At the top, we saw a couple motorcyclists, er, I mean, e-bikers, and then we headed on our way down the first big downhill. It was Dahn's first time down the trail as well, so neither of us knew what was coming. Compared to most trails in the area, it was primitive, steep, and the kind of trail that keeps you on your toes. A couple steep chutes, a couple creek crossings, and a few short mud sections made for an awesome adventure of a downhill.</div><div><br /></div><div>What goes down, of course, must go up. At the bottom of the descent, we began the long climb back up. Before long, we turned onto Mormon Pioneer Trail, and meandered our way up the mountain. Before long, the meandering turned to grunting up steep sections, and Dahn let me get around him to see if I could clean it. I made it up a loose rocky section, but briefly had to walk around a steep switchback. In hindsight, if I had known it was flat after the switchback, I might've kept riding. Next time.</div><div><br /></div><div>The top of Mormon Pioneer afforded us some nice views, before we once again punished ourselves by turning onto the Great Western Trail. For several miles, we climbed up and down along a ridgeline on a trail originally meant for hiking. Hike-a-bike? Um, yeah. But breathtaking views, a feeling of remoteness, and a certain indescribable feel about the trail made it my favorite trail of the entire trip. See for yourself in the pictures.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRfHhQ3YrOUhJHsy8OyoJM8G-ltGmZDaMA-52BLa6K4k72dFQdLpGR8g9EuZV0uf06R3HtKxwstZXkKXHgByEo0nzChY4H8w-ujYnHrSsFcIwAhlEEZL_CsTdQdf1Gz4h6xWpfVhxyLuxHBSn4lWBVd_PJRMSwfnnUtOYmWnqMFHufCWUCZNSoqbFuWL0/s4032/IMG_6305.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="465" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRfHhQ3YrOUhJHsy8OyoJM8G-ltGmZDaMA-52BLa6K4k72dFQdLpGR8g9EuZV0uf06R3HtKxwstZXkKXHgByEo0nzChY4H8w-ujYnHrSsFcIwAhlEEZL_CsTdQdf1Gz4h6xWpfVhxyLuxHBSn4lWBVd_PJRMSwfnnUtOYmWnqMFHufCWUCZNSoqbFuWL0/w349-h465/IMG_6305.HEIC" width="349" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Great Western Trail, this one was worth making the picture a little bigger. You can still click on the picture to enlarge it more though</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>I think it was around this time that Dahn said to me, "f*** my life, I'm so shelled". I'd like to point out that this ride made for about 25 hours of riding in only 6 days, so we were both properly tenderized.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sunday was a relatively easy ride, but still 3 hours and over 3,000 feet of climbing, so everything is relative. That afternoon, we drove to downtown Park City and checked out their market, full of vendors selling all sorts of items. It's a really nice town that falls perfectly into the "mountain-town" category, complete with high-end stores selling ski and outdoor clothing items that probably cost more than my bike. If I had more money, I could easily spend a fortune there.</div><div><br /></div><div>Later that afternoon, we drove down to Heber City to watch a professional XC mountain bike race. Keegan Swenson, the fastest off-road rider in the country, pulled ahead with an early lead and held it all the way to an easy win. At times I imagine myself doing a race like that, but then I remind myself that I'm a stupid singlespeeder.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dahn planned a special route for my last ride in Park City on Monday. We climbed all the way up to the Wasatch Crest, one of the most famous trails in the area, and a trail I rode once back in 2021 with Will. It was a heavy snowpack year, which meant that even in late June, there was significant snow on the Wasatch Crest. We knew it was going to be an adventure, but it was the perfect way to end a perfect week.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimTpn-7_7NaSeB8SgifwjLMz02PYPR1YF12PODFliahQwKgRzylFSOhya4Yltgvh3puwIH3Ze62BCrFPaCqVmoziWYId10FRPs8NoC461-wzQ3qanUA0i3WMFdLYUqhXvpZc5AQ9UsjlL2OpY3lznHtrbUCtmU5S3FqqWTKi6FBfR-kKaD42LmQJR9Waw/s4032/IMG_6356.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimTpn-7_7NaSeB8SgifwjLMz02PYPR1YF12PODFliahQwKgRzylFSOhya4Yltgvh3puwIH3Ze62BCrFPaCqVmoziWYId10FRPs8NoC461-wzQ3qanUA0i3WMFdLYUqhXvpZc5AQ9UsjlL2OpY3lznHtrbUCtmU5S3FqqWTKi6FBfR-kKaD42LmQJR9Waw/s320/IMG_6356.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEJEGMf6ORGZ45P_OU103EWmhBaTut0Sgd_PfpvAxzSACxA859PZtnzP3JSLh9q89xT_9l8t-rcbPXsbZVFrhnczYYl-SvsbEVDkmCaN4uNW-ZPf_Vv0py-_jMWcqQrTGrFYplG7SI2BTEhahrySoHBAIHPcIXG1rWW7txLwt1TaHTykBwaHNOxb8pE0Q/s4032/IMG_6373.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEJEGMf6ORGZ45P_OU103EWmhBaTut0Sgd_PfpvAxzSACxA859PZtnzP3JSLh9q89xT_9l8t-rcbPXsbZVFrhnczYYl-SvsbEVDkmCaN4uNW-ZPf_Vv0py-_jMWcqQrTGrFYplG7SI2BTEhahrySoHBAIHPcIXG1rWW7txLwt1TaHTykBwaHNOxb8pE0Q/s320/IMG_6373.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>A snow patch going up to the Crest; Dahn hiking up Puke Hill</i></div><div><br /></div><div>The climb up to the Crest, which starts at 9,900 feet, began normal enough. As we got past 8,000 and 9,000 feet, though, the snow began to pile up. We’d ride for a little, hike over snow for a little, and then ride some more. The last kick up to the summit, a section know as “Puke Hill”, was especially brutal. When “Puke Hill” came into view, Dahn told me to go for it as he got off and walked. It took everything I had and then some, but I got to the top without walking. The top was windy and cooler than the air in the valley, and you could tell you were really up there.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBLULRn3h1FXGv1rXayBzQThmy9wgIJoWLr1Hk2gZIMoWnR5D0ZBCZpof9-rVKZ1amZajmW2nb85EBMqpYmvFfesEMzch0e60jF_XJJey5LPHKc_iUBlS3Bzx4B0yy20ZfGMDd3ikIkSUHgKkxg1g70grAE-8LI2cf59LcFvgAZSfuO_JfxYxy2uappto/s4032/IMG_6376.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBLULRn3h1FXGv1rXayBzQThmy9wgIJoWLr1Hk2gZIMoWnR5D0ZBCZpof9-rVKZ1amZajmW2nb85EBMqpYmvFfesEMzch0e60jF_XJJey5LPHKc_iUBlS3Bzx4B0yy20ZfGMDd3ikIkSUHgKkxg1g70grAE-8LI2cf59LcFvgAZSfuO_JfxYxy2uappto/s320/IMG_6376.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYN96Eyug4tzxtUFxUXQrsU23rWjOx6N921ZdVvKPjqwwUxAF99tbozWFFTfP8x2uz_m7owzbSGU2otyMbqXSRxoBMJ1UPSyUI55kTDcaQ_QdUnc4OCEFBC3CgYIqee6CJhlcpPn8ShsidLxCFd_y6GtSc0kLBKpU0xrqsD-F9XuyfaiE-eRiyqZVhIMU/s4032/IMG_6414.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYN96Eyug4tzxtUFxUXQrsU23rWjOx6N921ZdVvKPjqwwUxAF99tbozWFFTfP8x2uz_m7owzbSGU2otyMbqXSRxoBMJ1UPSyUI55kTDcaQ_QdUnc4OCEFBC3CgYIqee6CJhlcpPn8ShsidLxCFd_y6GtSc0kLBKpU0xrqsD-F9XuyfaiE-eRiyqZVhIMU/s320/IMG_6414.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Pretty freaking awesome views and massive snowpack still remaining on the Crest</i></div><div><br /></div><div>The Crest itself was less snowy than I expected, but we still had to hike over maybe 10 snow fields or so. I don’t think it’s possible to have much more adventure than hiking through snow at 9,900 feet in the Wasatch Mountains of Utah. Needless to say, I loved every minute. </div><div><br /></div><div>Our final downhill back into Park City was bittersweet for me, but I know it’s far from the last time I’ll be out in Park City. As long as Dahn lives out there, I’ll be coming out to visit, that’s for sure.</div><div><br /></div><div>You see, I’m getting ready to start my last year of college before becoming a high school teacher. Within a year, I’ll have some big decisions to make, like where I’m going to live. Park City is a little (well, a lot) out of my price range, but I can certainly afford going out to visit Dahn. Riding in Park City feels a lot like riding in the promised land. For me, obviously, it was a vacation. Even for Dahn though, he says in many ways it feels like an endless vacation for him, even though he (sort of) has to work. When you’re in an area as spectacular as Park City, the vacation feeling just comes naturally.</div><div><br /></div><div>To any of Dahn’s friends reading this, make the trip out to Park City, there's no question it’s worth it. Enjoy the best singletrack, enjoy the views, and enjoy some margaritas. Not to mention, after riding 32 tough hours with Dahn in 8 days, I think he's probably the most capable tour guide you could ask for; bring your climbing legs. Just don’t take my spot when I’m planning to go out.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5MIsKtgNGnxqTkwYbvCVp2yL8bhpFur4AJ7EMzQKkg6PQhl69VTbKWiuFYPBlIAb29CS15_13vZeyf6f42tMEJPE3eRG-pAmsDqkwMvYr_iK7oPiRqTLaAl-egGohQ-2_wkSCh0GzW-jL-4GGS5dADyLI4bSvGr45_noMkD-BrvDQbd8cUnhleOg7Hh0/s4032/IMG_6400.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="551" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5MIsKtgNGnxqTkwYbvCVp2yL8bhpFur4AJ7EMzQKkg6PQhl69VTbKWiuFYPBlIAb29CS15_13vZeyf6f42tMEJPE3eRG-pAmsDqkwMvYr_iK7oPiRqTLaAl-egGohQ-2_wkSCh0GzW-jL-4GGS5dADyLI4bSvGr45_noMkD-BrvDQbd8cUnhleOg7Hh0/w413-h551/IMG_6400.HEIC" width="413" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The famous "Spine" section of the Wasatch Crest Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-39245239542501209962023-07-02T17:53:00.003-04:002023-07-04T07:38:23.067-04:00Wyoming, South Dakota, and Colorado on the Road Trip<p><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: x-small;">My next destination on the road trip was Sundance, Wyoming. It’s a small town in the western side of the Black Hills, only a few miles from the South Dakota border. My drive there took me through South Dakota (my first time ever in SD!) and Montana before making my way into Wyoming. The drive was actually interesting, and it included around 30 miles of driving on a gravel road in Montana. I even stopped at Devil's Tower in Wyoming to do a little hike and check out the unique rock formation.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik8dqylajNVhAczaURUTtUBCLjvRD3napHwllGc58DyjKx6-VoOId7Hrhsmlkx4sGeWM49FvjDwU8wicLSKkLv3kfuuHC1o9e2oLuxR_EavFJs1HLvuppLyGkFprmio0OZTdyMubVARN6opcf0NHi5givH6d5LuVqbeFG62NBwa3XcpQErU0nhUeln8vI/s4032/IMG_5598.HEIC" style="font-family: -webkit-standard; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik8dqylajNVhAczaURUTtUBCLjvRD3napHwllGc58DyjKx6-VoOId7Hrhsmlkx4sGeWM49FvjDwU8wicLSKkLv3kfuuHC1o9e2oLuxR_EavFJs1HLvuppLyGkFprmio0OZTdyMubVARN6opcf0NHi5givH6d5LuVqbeFG62NBwa3XcpQErU0nhUeln8vI/s320/IMG_5598.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Devil's Tower</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: x-small;"></span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Once I got to Sundance, I grabbed some ice from a gas station for my cooler, and made my way to a national forest campground. I got set up, and then went out for a little ride. I was extremely, let me emphasize, extremely, tired from my rides in North Dakota.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">The ride was nice despite my tiredness, and I even did a little exploring when the one trail I was supposed to ride didn’t exist. After the ride, I cooked up some dinner (freeze dried chicken alfredo) and then played some guitar. The sky threatened to rain, and it did mist a couple times, but never enough to scare me into my tent.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTX09sTAGG0F9oCA9IDUdhcXSPO2yvMmMrj5ztlwtfOS0lvDbld2Fn4Bud4u_AMM-ZGM7CeQjqodNowIlVZKQsMb7d3m6qDdKJ7pBEbB0YoLHCf-5QhhpYPePq1Aat4okiTGYTMgQfwbxC2rc9YPH2jew71ah-rGHhCF1wATcSZ4av4yRVfIG2_KwsM4o/s4032/IMG_5639.HEIC"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTX09sTAGG0F9oCA9IDUdhcXSPO2yvMmMrj5ztlwtfOS0lvDbld2Fn4Bud4u_AMM-ZGM7CeQjqodNowIlVZKQsMb7d3m6qDdKJ7pBEbB0YoLHCf-5QhhpYPePq1Aat4okiTGYTMgQfwbxC2rc9YPH2jew71ah-rGHhCF1wATcSZ4av4yRVfIG2_KwsM4o/w233-h310/IMG_5639.HEIC" width="233" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ED0j_t7GU6MzyVl2NY1MXUy4DT9QLAk51GZV1DwlYXuB8WPSkNdurmWcnKSnHdzTrz1ruTjuUk9CuJetHIIULvX_LVeVlxAIFXSOxAWhJVn-BEPpebO1LRFeIjCXsjHumE9t4kpxG9bSuR3rzhcuQr4te7N2GOyWLes8Sspv-vHBKGuABcfginn69oM/s4032/IMG_5683.HEIC" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ED0j_t7GU6MzyVl2NY1MXUy4DT9QLAk51GZV1DwlYXuB8WPSkNdurmWcnKSnHdzTrz1ruTjuUk9CuJetHIIULvX_LVeVlxAIFXSOxAWhJVn-BEPpebO1LRFeIjCXsjHumE9t4kpxG9bSuR3rzhcuQr4te7N2GOyWLes8Sspv-vHBKGuABcfginn69oM/w231-h308/IMG_5683.HEIC" width="231" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Wyoming stuff (the canyon hike a bike on the right)</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: x-small;">The next day, I had a three hour ride planned from the campsite. It turned out to be a lot harder than I expected, but it was worth it. I had to do a big hike-a-bike up through a canyon that was incredibly scenic, and the downhills put a huge smile on my face. After the ride, I got approached by a couple of friendly people in white dress shirts at the trailhead. Turns out they were Mormon missionaries, and they gave me a business card with a link to some podcasts about Creationism on it, for the drive ahead. They were very friendly, and they both had done some mountain biking, but I'll be honest, I didn't listen to any podcast about Creationism on my drive.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I decided to get a hotel for the night, my first of the trip, so I could do some laundry and take a shower. Sturgis was a surprisingly nice town, and the people seemed friendly. Even though it was over a month away from the motorcycle rally, there were still plenty of motorcycles around the town. There was even a road called “Harley Davidson Avenue”, or something like that.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">The next morning, after a regenerative sleep in a hotel bed, I drove to a trailhead just out of town to do my ride. I planned a solid four hour route, and it turned out to be even better than I expected. The trails were fantastically maintained, and constant switchbacks meant that the climbs weren’t as brutal as they could’ve been. The views were also very nice and far exceeded my expectations. This was my first time riding in South Dakota, and even though I’d heard it was scenic, I didn’t imagine it would be this cool.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghYIjZuaKDHtjiZCOI-Ow2eM1PxKRZ-nDEA4LhUe9PGT868ECE-7OOoXxX5F0O4Aznvlh6FwfcevAy8F9LnrZO6ujOW_SEQs4qG1fmV0yCure8BfWqYZWiLORfQMDH-kBbi9BFS4rvEaMDmAPqSUCn1_0mD91KmdXViwwPkQbmoAVefzLXDvYPWcRbzMg/s4032/IMG_5752.HEIC" style="font-family: -webkit-standard; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghYIjZuaKDHtjiZCOI-Ow2eM1PxKRZ-nDEA4LhUe9PGT868ECE-7OOoXxX5F0O4Aznvlh6FwfcevAy8F9LnrZO6ujOW_SEQs4qG1fmV0yCure8BfWqYZWiLORfQMDH-kBbi9BFS4rvEaMDmAPqSUCn1_0mD91KmdXViwwPkQbmoAVefzLXDvYPWcRbzMg/s320/IMG_5752.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAFerAeMO2-2kDmBbDsxx_eeB5e2SzCaIGnWZCE5fm6j-nSXYV6X6xCWTGP3W_u30xY6swQQDbHyV7qjzFwIQecqKqll7nSrYsJhzddhKYTBfHGwzgySEVYZ27hE7eYnx6vKhiRUeRuRA215884RDSInCmc5-LbcCcl2IBbZ1PlPmL6BMwDt1tg8LAHzM/s4032/IMG_5760%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAFerAeMO2-2kDmBbDsxx_eeB5e2SzCaIGnWZCE5fm6j-nSXYV6X6xCWTGP3W_u30xY6swQQDbHyV7qjzFwIQecqKqll7nSrYsJhzddhKYTBfHGwzgySEVYZ27hE7eYnx6vKhiRUeRuRA215884RDSInCmc5-LbcCcl2IBbZ1PlPmL6BMwDt1tg8LAHzM/s320/IMG_5760%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: x-small;">South Dakota views</span></i></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">After the ride, I decided to just camp at the trailhead campsite, alongside a big gravel parking lot. It was a popular campsite among semi-homeless (well, maybe just plain homeless) people, so I had lots of company.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I had a few interesting experiences at that campsite. When I first pulled in and before I knew for sure if it was a campground, I tried asking a woman there if it was a campground. Trust me, it didn't look like a campsite, more like a parking lot. She wasn't friendly, and just said "ask the camp host, not me", in a very unfriendly manner. Alright then.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I eventually found the camp host and got myself set up at a spot next to the parking lot. Like I said, it didn't really look like a campsite, but for $6 a night with a picnic bench and a bathroom, it would do.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I then started talking to an older woman who pulled up in an almost-equally old mini-van. She ranted briefly about politics (it's South Dakota, you could imagine where she fell on the political spectrum) and told me how she built an illegal A-frame cabin in a national forest in Oregon. Supposedly she built the cabin all by herself, and she was kicked out by a forest ranger when a wildfire started spreading in the area. I dunno, it was weird.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC8dFQ5--RcGkmvxVNgkhTsxlU6dFFBrEHH8Bz3SzuKVaHyPiSj1sfSuLPB_dz2bL9NYtzYv94iC2JRTlBalAPSwORQ-M8e7M7MxBrCr6dOq--_m_NdRLqAYXDl_NtBgWjPGaqS4nQgLkpq7R-1JYjuqclLftLix1zYV6fDSxP5jz0R_mcKYB5iqLsJUI/s4032/IMG_5778.HEIC" style="font-family: -webkit-standard; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC8dFQ5--RcGkmvxVNgkhTsxlU6dFFBrEHH8Bz3SzuKVaHyPiSj1sfSuLPB_dz2bL9NYtzYv94iC2JRTlBalAPSwORQ-M8e7M7MxBrCr6dOq--_m_NdRLqAYXDl_NtBgWjPGaqS4nQgLkpq7R-1JYjuqclLftLix1zYV6fDSxP5jz0R_mcKYB5iqLsJUI/s320/IMG_5778.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My campsite with the weird happenings near Sturgis</td></tr></tbody></table><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Later that evening, the unfriendly woman from earlier walked past my campsite and apologized about being rude earlier. That was unexpected, and we even talked for a few minutes about random things. She and her two kids used to live in a camper, but they have recently moved full-time into a tent. The kids were probably eight or nine years old, and I felt pretty bad for them. I don't ever want this blog to get too much into social issues, but it does make me sad when I see young kids disadvantaged through no fault of their own. I guess that is the human condition.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Anyways, I had one final interesting chat at the campsite with a through-hiker who was doing the Centennial Trail. She and I talked for a while about through-hiking, the mindset of doing those kind of things, and some stories from our previous trips.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">If you're sensing a pattern of me having lots of conversations with strangers, I'd say you're onto something. I'm a pretty talkative person, and as my friend Rob put it, I must seem very approachable. I really enjoy talking to people, especially people in new and different places, so I love all these little chats I have.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Alas, the next morning, I started driving toward Mount Rushmore and found a trail system to ride on the way. The trails were rocky, just the way I like them, and it made for a great hour loop.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBFYZ5zIyMn1ELjjAT3Z7YhVTZEdQSM6R_dJ7vOVW6JyI1KKPLj5i_T7oN4LVaB8GKX0B65SLu1apFsFsjRvVrIl0eOiVCWVU6ZOxPYcSD1owJifpeVQI0im07f8GgDgxPC1HZoHO5rVvbLCDulRZGx-jjWs9DGW7jkYId8wwyOUdOOqI5dPJzmddEO6E/s4032/IMG_5792.HEIC" style="font-family: -webkit-standard; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBFYZ5zIyMn1ELjjAT3Z7YhVTZEdQSM6R_dJ7vOVW6JyI1KKPLj5i_T7oN4LVaB8GKX0B65SLu1apFsFsjRvVrIl0eOiVCWVU6ZOxPYcSD1owJifpeVQI0im07f8GgDgxPC1HZoHO5rVvbLCDulRZGx-jjWs9DGW7jkYId8wwyOUdOOqI5dPJzmddEO6E/s320/IMG_5792.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trails near Mount Rushmore in the Black Hills</td></tr></tbody></table><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">After the ride, I got to Mount Rushmore and went to do a rare-for-me touristy thing. I took some pictures of the faces and sat for a little bit in the light mist to take in the scenery. The Black Hills are a very unique area, and they have way more exposed rock than most places I've been to. In some ways, it reminds me of the Sierra Nevadas with the large slabs of rock. I'd imagine it would be good for rock climbing, if you're into that kind of thing.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ymhUZto8rGyoLqYn2C16s_VSpE6vJBcRFZA9OZyYtJgzz5uZ26PU-X91dKLP4uJdP0lIe09ZLRvhl2xkGN9gL-arUrNHMQ3A4XH1YFTfPmjPhYrWmC1phKSyfn--eaX7cxBBF9D5PH2wZHxTYkXCcYoKU3VOTB2CU4HLdbcH-CGr5UXa4QOnTv7BrGg/s4032/IMG_5812.HEIC" style="font-family: -webkit-standard; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ymhUZto8rGyoLqYn2C16s_VSpE6vJBcRFZA9OZyYtJgzz5uZ26PU-X91dKLP4uJdP0lIe09ZLRvhl2xkGN9gL-arUrNHMQ3A4XH1YFTfPmjPhYrWmC1phKSyfn--eaX7cxBBF9D5PH2wZHxTYkXCcYoKU3VOTB2CU4HLdbcH-CGr5UXa4QOnTv7BrGg/s320/IMG_5812.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mount Rushmore</td></tr></tbody></table><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">After Mount Rushmore, I worked my way south toward Wyoming and Colorado. After getting some food in Cheyenne at the I-25 and I-80 junction, I continued on south toward Denver. I was planning to stay at a campground, but it was full, so I instead pulled into a hospital parking lot and slept there in my car. It was also a heavy thunderstorm in Denver that evening, so I got treated to a light show in my car while I was trying to sleep.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">The following morning, I did a short ride on Dakota Ridge near Golden, based on a suggestion from my friend Scott. The Denver area had got a lot of rain recently, but Dakota Ridge, as Scott told me it would be, was in great condition. The views from the ridge were fantastic, and the trail itself was quite technical, not unlike Moab in places. I even got a phone call from Will while I was riding, and seeing as the views were amazing and I was in no hurry, we chatted for a while.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcynXZE_ZoM3D9ybSiZFF3gQy9R84NIJ1AlCX7d4qqpJXVe6r-CFd-KiqHFXjF2XoMXBeju0K_66OujfCjRvpODsXW9WIQ739QzB9PMlzbL_KTKsb0jk6ZPioCNwywNCt0gLtHC-uWteS09TzbShqZfdwwlQ8ykOTezyBwdG1LbR9lT2Joxsp-NhT7bTA/s4032/IMG_5888.HEIC" style="font-family: -webkit-standard; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcynXZE_ZoM3D9ybSiZFF3gQy9R84NIJ1AlCX7d4qqpJXVe6r-CFd-KiqHFXjF2XoMXBeju0K_66OujfCjRvpODsXW9WIQ739QzB9PMlzbL_KTKsb0jk6ZPioCNwywNCt0gLtHC-uWteS09TzbShqZfdwwlQ8ykOTezyBwdG1LbR9lT2Joxsp-NhT7bTA/s320/IMG_5888.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dakota Ridge</td></tr></tbody></table><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">The rest of the day, I did some sightseeing around Denver and then met up with a family friend that evening, who offered me a place to stay for the night. It was sweet to have an actual bed to sleep in, and going out to a brewery with a friend in Denver was a nice change of pace compared to sleeping in my tent or my car and living as a dirtbag.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">The next morning, I met up with a friend and fellow 2023 Breck Epic singlespeed competitor Justin to do a ride as part of his Dawn to Dusk shuttle service. Don't worry, by shuttle, I only mean driving a group of us to the trail, not a point-to-point shuttle. Singlespeed isn't that ded, yet. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisSo-v-acS89vHseAL6EoraL2en-LhLpTgE4H1adNqMRbCNq37XN6T8wzAPM0gzsUFZGh7p7SzbS6JbBhpnMcO4-tcEGHk4zTQ5215UJN9I7S3zfX_Ls7jvkLp_h3Cz5kX33c4hECQ0cqfqXz0yGtqgNOdda5PXGATjBYGT-Cd2hzCEOQLblTfmu0skKY/s4032/IMG_5941.HEIC" style="font-family: -webkit-standard; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisSo-v-acS89vHseAL6EoraL2en-LhLpTgE4H1adNqMRbCNq37XN6T8wzAPM0gzsUFZGh7p7SzbS6JbBhpnMcO4-tcEGHk4zTQ5215UJN9I7S3zfX_Ls7jvkLp_h3Cz5kX33c4hECQ0cqfqXz0yGtqgNOdda5PXGATjBYGT-Cd2hzCEOQLblTfmu0skKY/s320/IMG_5941.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq527GS2IMZLbSQ4z0bVlT3QT_nBq5BOEQ6VxQ7SA_8osxY45Yq1qgKKZXYbUqZ8LbcV1e7p1NSL0YDyPBEfyePDQ8Z4KQGa_dt1bfDix6QcgLQB28n_6McHSKFglWyxETDdpB3W8ofS_q2DKAdJkYG_wvGBA9bc830NjNAw-IeEEW1_zWfK8b8ogOHJY/s4032/IMG_5950.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq527GS2IMZLbSQ4z0bVlT3QT_nBq5BOEQ6VxQ7SA_8osxY45Yq1qgKKZXYbUqZ8LbcV1e7p1NSL0YDyPBEfyePDQ8Z4KQGa_dt1bfDix6QcgLQB28n_6McHSKFglWyxETDdpB3W8ofS_q2DKAdJkYG_wvGBA9bc830NjNAw-IeEEW1_zWfK8b8ogOHJY/s320/IMG_5950.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><i>Justin's shuttle van; riding with Justin on the Colorado Trail</i></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">We did a 40 mile ride on the Colorado Trail just west of Waterton Canyon, and man, it was epic. That trail is just so fantastic, and the ground held up amazingly well to the recent rain. The Colorado Trail sections are certainly hard, even more so on singlespeed, but it's worth it. Justin and I got some ripping descents in, and I suffered quite a bit on the steep climbs. Justin is a really good dude, and I'm super glad I met up with him to ride.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">After finishing up the ride and getting back to Denver, I headed west on I-70 on my way to Park City. I took I-70 to Silverthorne and drove on a bit of the Great Divide route (the way my GPS took me) as I continued north to Route 40 before making my way west toward Steamboat Springs. I found a pretty awesome place to camp near Rabbit Ears Pass on Route 40, and enjoyed a night of instant mashed potatoes, playing my guitar, and meandering around snow drifts as the sun went down. Driving up to the camp area (it was just a random forest service road) consisted of some snow patches, big mud puddles, and more. Trust me, though, it was no match for the Subaru.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjB1iHRsDgImu9C9VcisbzKGvz28Z4dzLoRoS06Y-LbtQ3VeyyFoXy-ZGUpez2s4bRMLNbrS1bJtU5usrpmwKo0O-8Pons2S-rRafZvVqLiM_kRdh0a6sjm0xRexf_bXPFy2rszaBO4l_5LbSo6swkQNuhnpocL9VoKg29Fi9XNnmoP8pwo_cMiRgwOFw/s4032/IMG_6007.HEIC" style="font-family: -webkit-standard; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjB1iHRsDgImu9C9VcisbzKGvz28Z4dzLoRoS06Y-LbtQ3VeyyFoXy-ZGUpez2s4bRMLNbrS1bJtU5usrpmwKo0O-8Pons2S-rRafZvVqLiM_kRdh0a6sjm0xRexf_bXPFy2rszaBO4l_5LbSo6swkQNuhnpocL9VoKg29Fi9XNnmoP8pwo_cMiRgwOFw/w183-h243/IMG_6007.HEIC" width="183" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6b2UGgadchgOBlknctZz2bWLo_sWNI22HDf_WKrQqoqUG2rwzLjIQHh0YzcJTJjGteU2Us1GU3-66oaBvMtV5FgVzbDBJ78gaDN4xDJmlVvWxCJIMoUWtM-LN7YHwWKcTJh5NZx-5r43RZ6c19RW1pEBmsYusgI9KnUv9flV9ELPlKoLXtDJ3TquNNqQ/s4032/IMG_6018.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6b2UGgadchgOBlknctZz2bWLo_sWNI22HDf_WKrQqoqUG2rwzLjIQHh0YzcJTJjGteU2Us1GU3-66oaBvMtV5FgVzbDBJ78gaDN4xDJmlVvWxCJIMoUWtM-LN7YHwWKcTJh5NZx-5r43RZ6c19RW1pEBmsYusgI9KnUv9flV9ELPlKoLXtDJ3TquNNqQ/w181-h242/IMG_6018.HEIC" width="181" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv0ArRG7faST6ziTvibpmIlZuZSWX_2jfzY7Xr_V6ZpV_TL-qXsVYhkv5P6oq-bTmj2haAnjLJb41twSWsbkI2EfDZDeQ2nFymT_Fn81qDghVgZC7h7QVpafr1lfllW5y9SzInHAZcKJNtKQBhgUvWJCysUASag1oCVcQvKg0NHF_ArJF7UQFID92i3UU/s4032/IMG_6030.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv0ArRG7faST6ziTvibpmIlZuZSWX_2jfzY7Xr_V6ZpV_TL-qXsVYhkv5P6oq-bTmj2haAnjLJb41twSWsbkI2EfDZDeQ2nFymT_Fn81qDghVgZC7h7QVpafr1lfllW5y9SzInHAZcKJNtKQBhgUvWJCysUASag1oCVcQvKg0NHF_ArJF7UQFID92i3UU/w180-h240/IMG_6030.HEIC" width="180" /></a></p><p style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: x-small;">So much snow near Rabbit Ears Pass by Steamboat Springs</span></i></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">The next morning, I drove down into Steamboat Springs and did an easy hour ride out of town on some singletrack. I've been saying it a lot recently, but once again, the ride was fantastic. I guess I'm running out of adjectives, but the Steamboat trails I rode were perfectly maintained, not too steep (good for recovery, haha), and scenic. As a side note, Lael Wilcox on the Tour Divide just rode through Steamboat the night before I got there.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZIfN5Kc9-3_nitMkGeA2jfY2DcGPELMeJQDQdV9gRGxGpSid2hFRY8mR8El1vuxQ2IYr8bkKI0j0rv89bk6dsOzu0LM5atXTN6QWsY1Rg32WXBg9lF_3PSOCN6lbgAt-8meiPHg1Q54EKimEVT19LSvo2ZGsdjiK5iO9wLwrTnqrEA5tSmYf3dPlMEkY/s4032/IMG_6067.HEIC" style="font-family: -webkit-standard; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZIfN5Kc9-3_nitMkGeA2jfY2DcGPELMeJQDQdV9gRGxGpSid2hFRY8mR8El1vuxQ2IYr8bkKI0j0rv89bk6dsOzu0LM5atXTN6QWsY1Rg32WXBg9lF_3PSOCN6lbgAt-8meiPHg1Q54EKimEVT19LSvo2ZGsdjiK5iO9wLwrTnqrEA5tSmYf3dPlMEkY/s320/IMG_6067.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizlPyPFFTVvquqn9V2tCvz4XJdS7-AMcS6ANKV8FoXQAWUYx4rsRyAXkw6BAa3owJ92BDun5ZmhsO8UXdQLbdMPD_cQNvP6bIc8ZDNAb1aes_18reXiTmyWgbVjbG3Bj4YiSjuj1nfhvwegcIXMel5DIvwiY8ETVHdaMaaDnKJ1ZSGyRl_cVHFBPjU9D4/s4032/IMG_6092.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizlPyPFFTVvquqn9V2tCvz4XJdS7-AMcS6ANKV8FoXQAWUYx4rsRyAXkw6BAa3owJ92BDun5ZmhsO8UXdQLbdMPD_cQNvP6bIc8ZDNAb1aes_18reXiTmyWgbVjbG3Bj4YiSjuj1nfhvwegcIXMel5DIvwiY8ETVHdaMaaDnKJ1ZSGyRl_cVHFBPjU9D4/s320/IMG_6092.HEIC" width="240" /></a></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><i>Steamboat Springs views</i></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">After Steamboat, it was time for the last leg of driving to Park City. It was now Sunday, and although I was planning to get to Park City on Monday, Dahn said I should come a day early and save money on a hotel, so I drove straight to Park City. There was desert (lots of desert), more desert, and then some alpine terrain as I got toward Park City. It's pretty crazy how much the landscape can change in a matter of miles.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Alright, that's enough for this one. Next up is the Park City post, so stay tuned for that one. Or don't. Most people don't.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJTIQjnZERSooLbkY6QOup2ooxlxu4FLRTSFSTGzPBilm-DGbtIySKyGVdolwSOUT3d_7fN0kVthpCvH-yDaeHFwW0jKlKP48Ruy9ZYHPJduqQV-O89LDqMdWvL5U480cOrUg4kwUkyk0gW4KqbHyBfeWBImKLCPg5DJYvfx8_EzS8a2sBS-tvpB2rmpo/s4032/IMG_6122.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJTIQjnZERSooLbkY6QOup2ooxlxu4FLRTSFSTGzPBilm-DGbtIySKyGVdolwSOUT3d_7fN0kVthpCvH-yDaeHFwW0jKlKP48Ruy9ZYHPJduqQV-O89LDqMdWvL5U480cOrUg4kwUkyk0gW4KqbHyBfeWBImKLCPg5DJYvfx8_EzS8a2sBS-tvpB2rmpo/s320/IMG_6122.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A pass southeast of Park City</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-56031866327687735392023-06-16T15:22:00.009-04:002023-06-16T15:25:39.226-04:00An overnight loop in North Dakota<p style="text-align: justify;"> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">Before I dive in, just a quick preface of what my trip is all about. North Dakota is just the start of it. I’m sort of just taking a couple weeks to travel around to any place I feel like out west and ride wherever I want to. I had some rough plans when I started, but they’ve since changed, as it always goes. I do really enjoy writing, so I figure I’ll make a post about each section of the trip.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-align: left;">Up first was a bikepacking loop in North Dakota. I left my house at 3:55am on a Friday morning, and by 10 o’clock at night (central time, so 11 o’clock back home), I pulled off at a rest stop on I-94 in eastern North Dakota to sleep in my car. I slept well, and the next morning, I finished the last few hours of driving to Medora, ND.</span></div><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Once in Medora, I got some breakfast at a local restaurant, visited the bike shop to pick up some last minute things, and assembled my bikepacking rig out in front of the shop. The bike shop, Dakota Cyclery, was actually really cool. They had a shop cat (as opposed to a dog), and two friendly women were running it. I even chatted with a stranger who stopped at the bike shop, and he told me about how he biked from Chicago to Arizona or something in his past. I think it’s pretty amazing that so many people have so many awesome journeys like that. After last summer on the Great Divide with Will, I definitely feel like a part of that category. I didn’t do it for the storytelling aspect (although that is a positive aspect), but for the personal satisfaction with having accomplished a dream. But I digress.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhudm7eMO3yPZxWSBdsZgXA63IlGjY_LU51KiCfCxHMZkicBVuF5u3oIfS1uqkvCzLxbJM5lmviOKRzr6rdBIvPEaHyCxPqPk65YNlnsUUqsJxSDRiCQmbzpNCdkzUTT3sMvQbMx_iHoTyL8otF3hnPlTZJpPdBGWJmR5FXWCx0J2eDnkiHqYlNK6QM/s4032/D295B25F-8DF7-443C-B8EA-E52652404BCF.jpeg" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhudm7eMO3yPZxWSBdsZgXA63IlGjY_LU51KiCfCxHMZkicBVuF5u3oIfS1uqkvCzLxbJM5lmviOKRzr6rdBIvPEaHyCxPqPk65YNlnsUUqsJxSDRiCQmbzpNCdkzUTT3sMvQbMx_iHoTyL8otF3hnPlTZJpPdBGWJmR5FXWCx0J2eDnkiHqYlNK6QM/s320/D295B25F-8DF7-443C-B8EA-E52652404BCF.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doubletrack near Medora</td></tr></tbody></table><span><a name='more'></a></span><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I got my bike packed and headed out on my route. First up was a little bit of pavement out of town, followed by some gravel, and then some chunky farm path doubletrack. There were several muddy creek crossings, all of which I had to negotiate slowly whilst not dropping my bike in the water. After a while, I made it back to another stretch of gravel, followed by more doubletrack, and then gravel all the way to the campground which was the southern terminus of the Maah Daah Hey Trail.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEL7EP2MatfMb3k914wmY3dRGqwUtrM_snNsQSIEhPzBcsbI08bCFm1OGJcGLu4s0ENOAVUfKaSncvv7ikR3UJRIkE-Tn6qSLLFkKyxWA8ZhVISRUoqz3W5cKKdkQ5sdAFa6LAhwiGKCQz2IsOeKufRK2PXbEFsc_RsCo1IBerj4mzrVtVemuJRlns/s4032/E25E509D-8E07-406B-9966-0133BEE63237.jpeg" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEL7EP2MatfMb3k914wmY3dRGqwUtrM_snNsQSIEhPzBcsbI08bCFm1OGJcGLu4s0ENOAVUfKaSncvv7ikR3UJRIkE-Tn6qSLLFkKyxWA8ZhVISRUoqz3W5cKKdkQ5sdAFa6LAhwiGKCQz2IsOeKufRK2PXbEFsc_RsCo1IBerj4mzrVtVemuJRlns/s320/E25E509D-8E07-406B-9966-0133BEE63237.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Southern terminus of Maah Daah Hey</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">The Maah Daah Hey Trail is a national scenic trail that runs 155 miles in length. There are no climbs over 400 feet or so, but there are innumerably many punchy climbs that take their toll. It’s well over 100 feet per mile.</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIRIF6ndG_84s68HkvTeWuUU3QHa8Z8MHJVyG8Kd1IVLWrKeXTlJtfnnqsCc3dHByabNwT3kkBMeYDVtw_E8pE_qV_6H6ZLW10DLF-XO-tyT_i6INXwzffU6KEBJOZ_JSQtdkhbAOquDxY2Bkd2C0NSvCmvuV7pTtos-SRkgdE3W0YaeO9j_T_w3mL/s4032/61446386-3713-452C-A998-F8435566FCE6.jpeg" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; font-family: -webkit-standard; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIRIF6ndG_84s68HkvTeWuUU3QHa8Z8MHJVyG8Kd1IVLWrKeXTlJtfnnqsCc3dHByabNwT3kkBMeYDVtw_E8pE_qV_6H6ZLW10DLF-XO-tyT_i6INXwzffU6KEBJOZ_JSQtdkhbAOquDxY2Bkd2C0NSvCmvuV7pTtos-SRkgdE3W0YaeO9j_T_w3mL/s320/61446386-3713-452C-A998-F8435566FCE6.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Maah Daah Hey Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">When I got to the southern terminus of the Maah Daah Hey, I was expecting to fill up water at the campground spigot. However, the water was apparently turned off. There was a friendly group of people in the car who first saw me with the non-working spigot and offered me some water. Being the idiot I am, I declined, confident that there was another working water spigot nearby. I was wrong, and the people had left.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I started out onto the Maah Daah Hey with limited water, and the next water supply being 30 miles of grueling singletrack away. Right from the start, I realized I had severely underestimated the difficulty of fully loaded singlespeed mountain biking. Even my 32x21 gear felt extremely hard with a 50-55 pound bike. I was cooked 10 miles in. Luckily, some Swedish Fish (aka Dahn fuel) revitalized me and I pressed on. Around 20 miles into the trail, I came across a water cache box with a jug of water labeled “trail angel water, take if you need”. I drank a little bit of that water and topped off my one bottle, and then left the rest for someone else. The water not only helped me physically, but it also made me mentally confident of the riding ahead.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8BTHXeCs7-Ws83P1ddreRCtJ27TO-oxJgwznebL4qTLClcHl4hrWLxDV4SEBwOWmE0d9a1axlEfo_HdmoDOP9H9XPnVKmFUVE_W8uaYeUg345sxkwb7NQzip9I6kKBpKYa-l_1APsTQGJG9JRrm6RbUERFwWifedMpIwCiWn-ebNgIYh5N-nfMcxt/s4032/07CE9D9A-0BAB-42FB-88C9-14028F7398E4.jpeg" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8BTHXeCs7-Ws83P1ddreRCtJ27TO-oxJgwznebL4qTLClcHl4hrWLxDV4SEBwOWmE0d9a1axlEfo_HdmoDOP9H9XPnVKmFUVE_W8uaYeUg345sxkwb7NQzip9I6kKBpKYa-l_1APsTQGJG9JRrm6RbUERFwWifedMpIwCiWn-ebNgIYh5N-nfMcxt/s320/07CE9D9A-0BAB-42FB-88C9-14028F7398E4.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretty cool badlands section</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Finally, I reached the next campground. I filled up my water and settled into a camp spot with my bivy. As I was sitting around eating food, a kid from the campsite next to mine came over to chat with me.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">He asked me all sorts of questions - what was I doing? What kind of tent is that (it’s a bivy)? - and we talked for a while. He was like a modern version of Opie from the Andy Griffith show. Soon, the kid’s friends came over to visit me as well. Unfortunately, they weren’t like Opie. They were all a little, for lack of a better word, off. Except for Opie. He was cool. Their parents also seemed pretty off. Opie even left his pocket knife at my picnic table while he biked around, then he came back and got it.</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOxzbMssa0yCBwGnF605Rz6YpIVUPbVP0rZ__wNucIjyjX0hQ0gOLwsqhC4nfG-EFliUo2AI-zQ7LlIbdtukDGlEftcbMUiBd6Z8CzeHhrEU9zsD-SZQATXkdqg0YZRA0mLdXXG6sU-7b00BhEo9rlv-xeHZXMtSfPG00nXyWK4gDXaiJtaa2OJiWk/s4032/42EE2BAF-7481-40D2-B82F-F3C69C026F69.jpeg" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; font-family: -webkit-standard; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOxzbMssa0yCBwGnF605Rz6YpIVUPbVP0rZ__wNucIjyjX0hQ0gOLwsqhC4nfG-EFliUo2AI-zQ7LlIbdtukDGlEftcbMUiBd6Z8CzeHhrEU9zsD-SZQATXkdqg0YZRA0mLdXXG6sU-7b00BhEo9rlv-xeHZXMtSfPG00nXyWK4gDXaiJtaa2OJiWk/s320/42EE2BAF-7481-40D2-B82F-F3C69C026F69.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking over the Little Missouri River</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I went to bed in my bivy not knowing what a bivy was like to sleep in. Honestly, it was pretty nice. I slept fine. The only problem is the condensation from my mouth-breathing dampens the sleeping bag quite a bit.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">The next morning I set off north on the Maah Daah Hey, determined to make it to a general store in Medora some 20 miles away. The riding was hard and I was tired, and I began to make some decisions in my head. I didn’t exactly feel like making a death march on the Maah Daah Hey only to have to ride 80 miles of boring pavement and gravel back to my car when I was done. So, I decided, I would continue past Medora on the trail, and then turn around and take gravel back to my car, just enough to get an 8 hour ride in for the day and maximize trail miles. The route would end up being a 150 mile overnighter.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">It’s worth me noting (mostly for my future reference) that my biggest mistake was failing to set a goal for the route. I’ve talked to Will a lot about this, and he always tells me you need to clearly make a decision of what you want the trip to be like before you start. What that means is, if you want to race a route hard, then go into it 100% knowing that’s what you’re going to do. Or if you’re going to tour a route, then tour it. Don’t go into something with uncertainty.</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizmzMME_j1WwkukOpPGx2cOmXtkh8wECe_7CmB15K49ALgT-hckDj7t5zX1-anW19p4_CpsOs2GRpWA7jp0dcMs65sl0nLk4ZLIu89GJULTzYyHDQJEeiKijX-PfcsBewtTVXjofZ1flMiaq6Sku3pbjgw1mdv-FlwlNMFipx31r2aZPRg8Qf0MLbm/s4032/65C10C91-CB4D-4AAE-964D-4F19DDB85E2F.jpeg" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; font-family: -webkit-standard; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizmzMME_j1WwkukOpPGx2cOmXtkh8wECe_7CmB15K49ALgT-hckDj7t5zX1-anW19p4_CpsOs2GRpWA7jp0dcMs65sl0nLk4ZLIu89GJULTzYyHDQJEeiKijX-PfcsBewtTVXjofZ1flMiaq6Sku3pbjgw1mdv-FlwlNMFipx31r2aZPRg8Qf0MLbm/s320/65C10C91-CB4D-4AAE-964D-4F19DDB85E2F.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost reminds me of alpine riding</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">The loop in North Dakota really made me realize that Will is totally correct, at least for me and him. I came into the route not knowing if I’d ride 14 hours a day or 7 hours a day. “Go on how I feel”, I’d tell myself. That just sets you up for failure. When the singletrack riding became extremely difficult, the notion of grinding 14 hours a day became daunting. Since I wasn’t really committed to going fast or racing it, I had no urge to push me to make myself suffer that much. So, that’s why I decided to cut off the northern part of my route. My big lesson learned is: always set extremely clear goals before a bikepacking thing or any bike ride. No matter how much you want to switch your goals during the trip, don’t do it. Of course, if you’re planning to race and you don’t feel like racing, then I guess you’re gonna quit. Probably a sign you weren’t ready.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhha4Vst7IlKz7iTS6h6gnU22tbVtN61nSnVe7CK3iwo_lQHFv-_73FqodPE4wNlBLFf6CR1QDNbViHbKu59irQCPMxYya1QzzGM6a5aTWZNg5gCa_MGrz__0YWoruDCTfdRVCshz_W2E3qwf2m6LzmEQEqcAiK9-EnG-6slxSmqiYwcrsPDr1ft_-c/s4032/F70903A4-DB8B-4635-9844-67390480311C.jpeg" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhha4Vst7IlKz7iTS6h6gnU22tbVtN61nSnVe7CK3iwo_lQHFv-_73FqodPE4wNlBLFf6CR1QDNbViHbKu59irQCPMxYya1QzzGM6a5aTWZNg5gCa_MGrz__0YWoruDCTfdRVCshz_W2E3qwf2m6LzmEQEqcAiK9-EnG-6slxSmqiYwcrsPDr1ft_-c/s320/F70903A4-DB8B-4635-9844-67390480311C.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Very green on the trail</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">That being said, the route was still a lot of fun and I’d consider it a success. Sure, I didn’t finish the whole thing, but I also didn’t have to ride 80 miles of pavement at the end. Plus, I got 15 hours of riding in 2 days, which is solid, and it absolutely destroyed my legs, so it was definitely a challenge.</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAprKBT7yl5YbOZcNaldfqjLlP-ZPwELwZr2To-kx-4_vltP6t5WL2Obfd0vwp9P2VTNfp6s7Xgf3EZDLdDrRggj9DD0TKBJHX2Yxv14F2uFU39GxrW_7sGiPhazeWe01EXWBXrcNXaXJ5yn_nr3Y9Q6E6CN2bXaxJtfKLxpb5fZSN-HxlosLrnoM8/s4032/9638EA21-D6C3-4338-A4DA-142C15AD1CBF.jpeg" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; font-family: -webkit-standard; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAprKBT7yl5YbOZcNaldfqjLlP-ZPwELwZr2To-kx-4_vltP6t5WL2Obfd0vwp9P2VTNfp6s7Xgf3EZDLdDrRggj9DD0TKBJHX2Yxv14F2uFU39GxrW_7sGiPhazeWe01EXWBXrcNXaXJ5yn_nr3Y9Q6E6CN2bXaxJtfKLxpb5fZSN-HxlosLrnoM8/s320/9638EA21-D6C3-4338-A4DA-142C15AD1CBF.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Got some hikers to take a picture so I have proof I was actually there</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">But I digress. When I got to Medora the morning of the second day, I grabbed a bunch of food and drinks from the general store and then headed on my way. However, I was impeded by the Little Missouri River. It was much too high to cross, so I had to backtrack into down and jump on Interstate 94 for a mile. After the interstate, I was on the Maah Daah Hey for another 35 miles or so. It wasn’t quite as hard as the stretch the day before, but it was close. Perhaps I just knew what to expect. By the time I reached the gravel, I was ready to be done with the trail. The gravel ride back was 27 miles, and although that doesn’t seem like much, at the time it felt like much. The whole time I was listening to music from Will’s iPod Nano, and during that gravel stretch, the music at least kept me steady. Finally, I reached Medora and stopped again at the general store for ice cream and a Dr. Pepper. Very nice. Apparently, someone got their purse stolen at that store just hours earlier, and a cop was there interviewing people. It’s funny because when I called the bike shop a couple weeks ago, the lady made a point to say Medora is extremely low crime.</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYlV4ulIh_0wmcdJDg46_gHLnpBVqrhgg2V43OCgu3E3TuqBReR2ELvNSeGoBLtqY1FV9o2aYNtGcE0e3ZYt2DMsgbS9bgtrREgYEZxZO6p1BolO9MWmSGQwfyqI9sFNbnFouq5U8B8KY39MJw68xsWLkjxHr3G9NupgeDrAgZl1FS3punlpLt4r7/s4032/00703D53-9423-48BE-B72E-C4FCB88208BD.jpeg" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; font-family: -webkit-standard; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYlV4ulIh_0wmcdJDg46_gHLnpBVqrhgg2V43OCgu3E3TuqBReR2ELvNSeGoBLtqY1FV9o2aYNtGcE0e3ZYt2DMsgbS9bgtrREgYEZxZO6p1BolO9MWmSGQwfyqI9sFNbnFouq5U8B8KY39MJw68xsWLkjxHr3G9NupgeDrAgZl1FS3punlpLt4r7/s320/00703D53-9423-48BE-B72E-C4FCB88208BD.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The gravel stretch back to Medora</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">At the general store, I chatted with an older fellow who came up to me. We talked for a while about all sorts of things, but a few things stand out. For one, he was an oil rig truck driver, meaning he drives the big rigs way out into the vastness on dirt roads. Pretty cool job. But also, he was quick to make a point that if you aren’t conservative, you probably shouldn’t move to North Dakota. He threw that in there after mentioning it being a good place to live. It was a friendly remark though, very genuine and certainly not threatening in the slightest. He also brought up his vast gun collection of over 40 long guns and many more handguns. Interesting fellow.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">After I finished my chat at the general store, I drove to a campground to get a shower and then found some random dirt road in the National Grasslands to park my car and sleep for the night. It was a unique, shall we say, camping area. The interstate was within view and I just sat in my folding chair on the road (it was closed with a barbed wire fence, no one was going in) eating my dinner of freeze dried chicken Alfredo. It was actually a pretty cool evening, and I played my guitar to serenade the free range cows all around me.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">That seems like a good stopping point for now. I’ll pick up where I left next time.</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjNlxGLMjOPoo4MkG59bWziSFQ-xXcVFdxJOm81dxIJvJCqSyXUfrgbTaP31jjv6iPpc91V7tm283PSI-VuyxSrgueGh-KeTJ-HR4CeLTBD2uILSJpAAhI92c0rfLifr6NoxDCMNtyTlAxkg46Br6SgkunnMHvyVVx9O7FkQcGsCkbLNXNAT5J4DI/s4032/45EFE9EC-E59B-408A-BF3B-43C21C2154EE.jpeg" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjNlxGLMjOPoo4MkG59bWziSFQ-xXcVFdxJOm81dxIJvJCqSyXUfrgbTaP31jjv6iPpc91V7tm283PSI-VuyxSrgueGh-KeTJ-HR4CeLTBD2uILSJpAAhI92c0rfLifr6NoxDCMNtyTlAxkg46Br6SgkunnMHvyVVx9O7FkQcGsCkbLNXNAT5J4DI/s320/45EFE9EC-E59B-408A-BF3B-43C21C2154EE.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My campsite near I-94</td></tr></tbody></table>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-30983335647630198852023-05-22T07:32:00.003-04:002023-05-22T07:32:20.475-04:00Mohican 100 plus more Ohio dominationMy alarm went off at 4:55 AM, and I immediately heard the sound of rain on my tent. I was expecting that, so at least it wasn't a surprise. I ate breakfast still in my sleeping bag and I contemplated life's many mysteries, like why I was going to crawl out of my dry tent into the rain before sunrise to get ready to race my bike all day.<div><br /></div><div>After getting dressed in the campsite bathroom, I rode down to the finish line area in the campground, where I met up with Thad, Simon, Anthony, Joe, and Joe Sr. I forgot my ankle timing monitor (how the race records your finish time), so I had to race back up to my campsite to grab it from my car. After I got it, I met back up with everyone at the finish line, and then we rode the two miles into downtown Loudonville for the start of the race. Of course, it was pouring down rain all the while.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJtjlq0L8JuMzimkH4U8VP4TwEhMwhnUSGHUW4j7iCs467IrIHbD3jyuFNoZFEk2XA6kOyWXg9C3fYSUMcc4gHnvNn9QzWbzH5IZH74oIYz1fi3QDx5AA6Ic7zK-HevsiJLBUrNytWXOvOlEZc3HzrwMFHboeIZuxSLgPn3kqkluouS2eKKA3QBYR6/s875/IMG_4943.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="875" data-original-width="875" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJtjlq0L8JuMzimkH4U8VP4TwEhMwhnUSGHUW4j7iCs467IrIHbD3jyuFNoZFEk2XA6kOyWXg9C3fYSUMcc4gHnvNn9QzWbzH5IZH74oIYz1fi3QDx5AA6Ic7zK-HevsiJLBUrNytWXOvOlEZc3HzrwMFHboeIZuxSLgPn3kqkluouS2eKKA3QBYR6/s320/IMG_4943.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mohican 100 mile singlespeed podium</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><br /><span><a name='more'></a></span><div>I lined up at the start line a few rows back from the front, near my brother, Simon, and Tanya. When the clock hit 7:00 AM, the gun went off and we all rolled out. Quickly I was able to move my way toward the front, and I felt like I was in a good position. There was a short but steep pavement climb right after the start, and my legs felt fantastic. After the short climb, there was a series of rolling hills, where I alternated between full power on the climbs and spinning like crazy on the downhills on my singlespeed to try and stay with the leaders. I was right up at the front with Chase, Anthony, Mark, and a few other friends. Right behind me was my brother and Thad. Also near me was legendary mountain bike racer Tinker Jaurez, perhaps one of the most well-known racers in the country.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisv81chb_Z-QatH3h1cMtDhQTOqGq2sPGtItMFrDIJ01udXZ-DdymphvIsnafTwMN4vexkOuPqe1xWAbm0DR04tJLbWZy_YVzqWzZb4qikUXXUnIu5WUiNhPpEPUtsWbBxiY0AK2SktaQuN3IISdo5Ny6xLlXrlGDtUq3WVWj0xSUHVQe-o-ZZ-H-w/s4032/IMG_9329.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisv81chb_Z-QatH3h1cMtDhQTOqGq2sPGtItMFrDIJ01udXZ-DdymphvIsnafTwMN4vexkOuPqe1xWAbm0DR04tJLbWZy_YVzqWzZb4qikUXXUnIu5WUiNhPpEPUtsWbBxiY0AK2SktaQuN3IISdo5Ny6xLlXrlGDtUq3WVWj0xSUHVQe-o-ZZ-H-w/s320/IMG_9329.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The start line</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>After the pavement section, the course turned onto gravel, and shortly after, muddy doubletrack. As we turned onto the doubletrack, I heard and saw a crash behind me which took out several riders. I was glad to not be one of them. The next several miles were a mix of doubletrack and singletrack, and I tried my hardest to not lose any positions. After we finally made it into the Mohican Trail loop - a 25 mile singletrack loop that was the first part of the race - I settled down for a little bit.</div><div><br /></div><div>The trails were extremely wet with standing water everywhere, which to me actually wasn't so bad. I felt really smooth in the trails and I was able to pass a bunch of people. I knew Thad, my main singlespeed competition, was right behind me, so I tried to put as many people between us as I could. Before long, I passed Tinker in the singletrack, who was not having a good day. I also saw Thom the wideo guy out there filming and I said hello to him.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'll be honest, by the time I popped out of the 25 mile singletrack loop, I was hoping I had a decent lead on Thad. I pushed pretty hard in the singletrack and I was hoping my full suspension gave me an advantage, because I knew on the gravel sections, my heavy bike wasn't going to be great. Plus, my chain was already grinding, so I knew Thad was going to be pushing me on the gravel.</div><div><br /></div><div>I must've misread the aid station distances, because I passed up water at mile 20 and thought there would be more at mile 30, but I was wrong. Instead, I only had two bottles until mile 45 at the first drop bag. Luckily, a volunteer at a mini aid station around mile 35 had a small bottle of water for me, which definitely helped. I drink a lot of water while racing, so I was worried about running out.</div><div><br /></div><div>Around mile 43, I looked behind me on a gravel climb and saw Thad's unmistakeable red jersey gaining on me. He seemed smooth and determined, and part of me thought he was going to blow right by me never to be seen again. My brother was also with him, but we were in different races, so I wasn't worried about him.</div><div><br /></div><div>Fortunately, I turned on the gas and was able to hold a lead on Thad before we popped into a technical singletrack section. I'm not saying I'm fantastic, but I'm decently good in technical trails, so I tried to push the pace through the rocks for a while. At the infamous Mohican rock garden, I saw Thom again wideoing (the Boston spelling of video), and I felt confident in my ability to clean all the rocks. Unfortunately, at the end of the rock garden, the rider ahead of me slipped out and slammed into the rocks, making me get off and walk around him. Maybe next year I'll get the chance to clean the whole thing.</div><div><br /></div><div>After the trail section, we popped out into an open field for the first aid station. I quickly swapped my bottles and grabbed some extra food and left the aid station as quickly as I could. It looked like I put a little bit of time on Thad in the singletrack, so I wanted to keep the pace hot to hold the gap.</div><div><br /></div><div>On the flat road after the aid station, my brother caught up to me and we rode together for a bit before the next climb. The next climb was a terrible grassy climb that was quite steep, and also quite painful. I saw Thad on a switchback below me, so I buried myself the rest of the climb to hold the gap between us.</div><div><br /></div><div>For the next hour or two, I got into a rhythm of pushing it on the climbs, trying to be smooth in the trails, and making sure I kept eating and drinking. I didn't see Thad behind me anymore, but I knew he was probably still close by. My power meter was telling me I wasn't putting down as much power as I hoped, but I was still feeling alright.</div><div><br /></div><div>Around mile 80, I hit the last aid station before going back into the Mohican trail loop for a full second 25 mile singletrack lap to the finish. It was going to be a fun but very difficult ending to the race, and I was looking forward to it.</div><div><br /></div><div>The second lap of the Mohican loop felt much harder than the first, obviously. The first lap felt very flowy and fast, but this lap felt like it was all uphill. Plus, the trails were now soft and muddy rather than just having standing water on them. At one point, I looked below me and saw Thad on a big switchback. I estimated he was maybe five minutes behind me, so I cranked up the pace and teetered on the edge of muscular failure, haha.</div><div><br /></div><div>The miles seemed to go slowly at first, but before long, I was nearing the end. Thom was out there with his GoPro, and he rode behind me for a mile or two getting footage of me riding. That was pretty cool. I figured there was behind two miles left until the finish, but I asked Thom just to be sure.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I think about six or seven miles left", he said.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ouch. This was going to hurt. I kept on the gas all the way, and after what seemed like forever, I rode across the finish. My time was 9 hours and 17 minutes, and it was enough for the singlespeed win in the 100 mile race. I was pretty smoked. For comparison, the last time I did this race, it only took 8 hours 25 minutes. This new course is much harder.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEu68NoyZMylxYrT61j8ef5F5Y23RuyGdjKqxxnC1eQgSNtsSIGr_48YUbam-2gg4U63zBYCfkAFcc9Zv4lNHCtHfABKF8fJ-VUK7LNxXgQXp9BZCpmROnkq4QAMe7JZsRZk-HFC8JIAdu4LEWGa3ew0QOevb-7PPX4iKAdcIRGE9int61d2xzM5fx/s4032/IMG_9378.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEu68NoyZMylxYrT61j8ef5F5Y23RuyGdjKqxxnC1eQgSNtsSIGr_48YUbam-2gg4U63zBYCfkAFcc9Zv4lNHCtHfABKF8fJ-VUK7LNxXgQXp9BZCpmROnkq4QAMe7JZsRZk-HFC8JIAdu4LEWGa3ew0QOevb-7PPX4iKAdcIRGE9int61d2xzM5fx/s320/IMG_9378.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSH7rev3cEMwJ8BnvRdTsl2l5ZCWdqm-34cAJRjPxMSP8A2W6IeI2aMYLWPrklR255PooVfIfSmNEm0toB7i2oYdzPDn-To59XvPPChDnfcGlL3ABxxmTStPHaT7_Hy_-iovfeS4BtcZg_hufZ0FwFZqJ5eYgclI2ho3VH6qPubdgIrG5VgfESjF9I/s4032/IMG_9370.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSH7rev3cEMwJ8BnvRdTsl2l5ZCWdqm-34cAJRjPxMSP8A2W6IeI2aMYLWPrklR255PooVfIfSmNEm0toB7i2oYdzPDn-To59XvPPChDnfcGlL3ABxxmTStPHaT7_Hy_-iovfeS4BtcZg_hufZ0FwFZqJ5eYgclI2ho3VH6qPubdgIrG5VgfESjF9I/s320/IMG_9370.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Thad came across the line about 15 minutes later, and we congratulated each other on a great battle the whole day. After chatting with my parents, brother, Thad, Simon, Tanya, and some others, I rode up to my campsite to shower and change into clean clothes.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4j_1lXDEiDOideByE6lI5KSfWLsAscOQYcdrakRJn0X0zTJxhNcYIeDxdavn4vzL_EDwnPYWuIXC3xAPxfBH2ViV2Zv-DPL-KrpczvR-f1adrjTdpNFWb11HEPkFL77ESLnxs92Lla6Ddd_Bt-HYaUaFU1QI8FCBQmkk9iialDAiu-cuU3UX5j-wW/s4032/IMG_9372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4j_1lXDEiDOideByE6lI5KSfWLsAscOQYcdrakRJn0X0zTJxhNcYIeDxdavn4vzL_EDwnPYWuIXC3xAPxfBH2ViV2Zv-DPL-KrpczvR-f1adrjTdpNFWb11HEPkFL77ESLnxs92Lla6Ddd_Bt-HYaUaFU1QI8FCBQmkk9iialDAiu-cuU3UX5j-wW/s320/IMG_9372.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Talking to Simon post-race (and my dad in the red)</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Joe, my friend and Syndicate teammate, finished third singlespeed in the 100 mile, and Simon won the 100 kilometer singlespeed, which means Pittsburgh swept the singlespeed class as best we could. Just what Dahn Pahrs ordered up when he texted us the night before.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anthony won the 100 km race overall, and my brother finished 4th overall in the 100 km. More Pittsburgh domination. Plus, my friends Dave and Dylan had strong races in the 100 km race as well, and Tanya finished 5th in the 100 km women's race. A great day was had by all.</div><div><br /></div><div>My dad also finished the 100 km race, and he said it was the hardest MTB race he's done. I'd say that's a fair statement, the Mohican race is not easy. Congrats to him for doing such a hard race.</div><div><br /></div><div>As hard as it it, though, the Mohican race is exceptionally well run and organized, which makes it seem easier. Maybe? The aid stations are top notch, the course is great, and they even pay out money for the singlespeed class. Check, check, check. I'll be back, and I'd recommend it to anyone.</div><div><br /></div><div>After hanging out some more, getting the post-race interview with Thom, eating a burrito, and talking with a bunch of friends, it was time for the podium. Luckily, I remembered how to pop a champagne bottle, so I made sure to spray everyone. In true singlespeed fashion, I drank some of the champagne on the podium and passed it around to the rest of the fellas.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg52KOrmtVvTRlQtPQdGVqz6LyD4Pg4R3l7x898wvsX61hYCBmNou1nwiOZxS-o6aYK_8ENN8QcJn1wXI_ASvTyms3aEzFSdgn8GsrRy4fDBZYKTLCNLWq2cN38XEng5JxxzG5hHggl-5z0Ot_aQBIciUME2D_LFdOHamKGzCEDE1UTJd0crfeOmahZ/s1922/IMG_4900.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1922" data-original-width="1170" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg52KOrmtVvTRlQtPQdGVqz6LyD4Pg4R3l7x898wvsX61hYCBmNou1nwiOZxS-o6aYK_8ENN8QcJn1wXI_ASvTyms3aEzFSdgn8GsrRy4fDBZYKTLCNLWq2cN38XEng5JxxzG5hHggl-5z0Ot_aQBIciUME2D_LFdOHamKGzCEDE1UTJd0crfeOmahZ/s320/IMG_4900.jpg" width="195" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Podium champagne</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>The remainder of the evening consisted of Thad and I each eating an entire half gallon of Oreo ice cream, hanging out with the Syndicate group at their campsite, and a couple hard ciders. Pretty great finish to fantastic day of racing.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj53TMeoWOiG81VRhkLFxdZA5XVDhx5uP70aWNJQNsItylmCUeWSVTyRfJaHbLmpAMJPJrgTDMSADMGXcBDfQvwFsFTKzt7e_U00_ld2ECofuM6aydIkQ8u2Y_RcrEz2WpYGUle8n7sc74BlzbyitYVOiQ-EZPlaN01iy5kZ9JAHFVvU978XOjLQ1de/s4032/IMG_4897.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj53TMeoWOiG81VRhkLFxdZA5XVDhx5uP70aWNJQNsItylmCUeWSVTyRfJaHbLmpAMJPJrgTDMSADMGXcBDfQvwFsFTKzt7e_U00_ld2ECofuM6aydIkQ8u2Y_RcrEz2WpYGUle8n7sc74BlzbyitYVOiQ-EZPlaN01iy5kZ9JAHFVvU978XOjLQ1de/s320/IMG_4897.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging out at the Syndicate campsite post-race</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>That night as I was trying to go to sleep in my tent, I heard some drunk people arguing around me. It got pretty crazy, and just after midnight, I thought there was going to be an actual fight. The guys started threatening each other while their wives tried to calm them down, and I really thought police might be called. Somehow, though, it got diffused, and I went back to sleep.</div><div><br /></div><div>Instead of sleeping in, though, my alarm went off at 3:55 AM, and I hurriedly packed up my tent. I was driving to Cleveland to help support Will at the Cleveland marathon, and I was meeting up with my friends Ed and Robyn in Cleveland as well.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was a brutal start to my Sunday, but after a pre-5:00 AM McDonald's stop, I felt a little bit better. I made it to Cleveland around 6:00 AM and met up with Ed and Robyn shortly after.</div><div><br /></div><div>We pedaled to the start of the marathon and watched Will take the early lead, a good sign for the miles to come. We then rode to the 10km aid station, where we'd hand Will a bottle of drink mix and cheer him on.</div><div><br /></div><div>Will made it to the 10km aid station right on pace, and he already had a big lead. I handed him his bottle of drink mix and he kept blasting. Ed, Robyn, and I met him at five more aid stations, and each time, the handoffs went flawlessly.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlkBhEE4f1Brap_KenXhSCFi3c36Ex4kzgNV0e18dlkcGThmHk17uqv1rZQOxdaOD_SSd6I-XrD-uDyVkNZOkDqsI4FB518M17EsZeBoprdG5HPrV0Fa_RbLLBAireDl6uwVvtTERJXgCSXtOfCdi0KSU45RpVAs24yK-Sh6zhVWb2iFf4lWtAxnJg/s722/image000000.JPEG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="722" data-original-width="699" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlkBhEE4f1Brap_KenXhSCFi3c36Ex4kzgNV0e18dlkcGThmHk17uqv1rZQOxdaOD_SSd6I-XrD-uDyVkNZOkDqsI4FB518M17EsZeBoprdG5HPrV0Fa_RbLLBAireDl6uwVvtTERJXgCSXtOfCdi0KSU45RpVAs24yK-Sh6zhVWb2iFf4lWtAxnJg/s320/image000000.JPEG" width="310" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bottle hand-off to Will</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>After the last aid station we saw him at, we raced past him on our bikes to see him at the finish. A few short minutes later, Will came down the finishing stretch running at full speed, as the announcers called out his victory. He finished in 2:19, which is just an absolutely absurd marathon time. Not to mention that this was his first marathon ever, or that he has only been training for running for five months. Just ridiculous.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4OJ1tyaxjAQZ9R1q_ht0w6ymNEKV-2jQTOvkWgf-PUzHhqh1Z8sziTAL5A62JDmprVpzPxv2_wBa-LU-40Gw-swjHco5dPztVpWM7jmgfnKQKf9B1tl3gwPvKgHg41-hf5rXA9rYkb-vIUtVijdDhs_diLUwS46i3Fq8oZXH5FUKJsqGzu6PCYCoN/s4032/IMG_2911.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4OJ1tyaxjAQZ9R1q_ht0w6ymNEKV-2jQTOvkWgf-PUzHhqh1Z8sziTAL5A62JDmprVpzPxv2_wBa-LU-40Gw-swjHco5dPztVpWM7jmgfnKQKf9B1tl3gwPvKgHg41-hf5rXA9rYkb-vIUtVijdDhs_diLUwS46i3Fq8oZXH5FUKJsqGzu6PCYCoN/s320/IMG_2911.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ed, Will, and Hamburger</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>I saw Will's dad after the race, so Ed, Robyn, and I met up with Will's family in a grass area near the finish to wait for him to come over. After getting his post race interview, Will came over and everyone congratulated him. It was really an incredible race for him. Plus, it capped off an excellent weekend for the Syndicate team and for Pittsburgh in their domination over Ohio.</div><div><br /></div><div>After riding many, many, many thousands of miles with Will on the bike, literally driving across the country for bike races with him, and biking from Canada to Mexico with him, it sort of felt strange to see him winning a marathon. I couldn't be happier for him though, and it's pretty clear that he is an elite runner.</div><div><br /></div><div>All in all, Pittsburgh came away with four wins and many more podiums last weekend. That's a pretty good weekend of racing, if I don't say so myself.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiQx1AMLAsSo5hb67znAMMnJEedDBOicSww5BLXTh63djU06FRn8GSGiqAk0prXozwB1gBvQkOxNlhbfuTEgy8OW0TCRMH9D48SOUdMBWdb_lTs_0DzRlZU_Q30k9JdbUd9p0-YD6kDcC1yPfXs4Yulfx_e6lIil-kKbs4noQkt-E0Xk5_n2OYuPpK/s4032/IMG_4938.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiQx1AMLAsSo5hb67znAMMnJEedDBOicSww5BLXTh63djU06FRn8GSGiqAk0prXozwB1gBvQkOxNlhbfuTEgy8OW0TCRMH9D48SOUdMBWdb_lTs_0DzRlZU_Q30k9JdbUd9p0-YD6kDcC1yPfXs4Yulfx_e6lIil-kKbs4noQkt-E0Xk5_n2OYuPpK/s320/IMG_4938.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The best trophy at any race I've been to</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><span><!--more--></span>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-20888541328792694892023-05-15T07:09:00.005-04:002023-05-15T07:29:09.217-04:00Gradumication (noun)I graduated from Penn State last week. Well actually, the official "graduation" was last Saturday while I was racing PMBAR in North Carolina, but I guess they'll mail me my diploma? Bless and thank.<div><br /></div><div><i>Edited to add: damnit, sorry, this post got pretty long and out of hand.</i></div><div><br /></div><div>Either way, four years of Penn State is over. My official degree is a B.S. in General Science with a minor in Mathematics. But please don't ask me to do maths. I forgot already.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's not really as dramatic as some college graduations, however, because I'm not really done yet with college. I want to be a high school math teacher, which means I need to go back and get a teaching certification before I can officially become an adult and get a jerhb. Just kidding, I will never be an adult. But I will get a jerhb as a math teacher.</div><div><br /></div><div>For now though, I need to figure out where to get my teaching certification. Most likely, it's going to be somewhere close to home. There are several reasons for this, not the least of which being that living at home will save over $10,000 in housing. Plus, after the difficult winter (for mountain bikers, that is) they had out west, it seems less and less appealing for me to go somewhere for school where I can only ride my bike on dirt for two weeks out of the year.</div><div><br /></div><div>But enough about looking ahead. Let's look back, because hey, tomorrow is tomorrow and yesterday is today. Mebbe? I don't know, but either way, it seems like an appropriate time to look back at my time at Penn State. Surprise, it's mostly about bikes.</div><div><br /></div><div>When I chose to go to Penn State, I really had no idea that Rothrock was such a good trail system. And plus, the first two years of college I lived at home and went to Penn State Beaver, a branch campus only 25 minutes from my house. When I applied to Penn State in high school, I didn't even apply to main campus. In fact, the only place I applied to at all was Penn State Beaver. I got accepted like a week or two after I applied, and that was that.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Ai_jcbk0syZXyV0-twbac214RHRdwSzuRcbHX-c4GHHiHTHX-R4-wwMa4UyMGUupBdOy85KKOLAgcjojlkpA3K5FAxtFXgGUB0mT8xWgS4yEy7FW-J1SBHFXDsf2r4cLKvip8Tvoonf7mTTnL08DyIja985rCas7QO53NB0tqQ6Ko03lVpiXGQ3E/s1715/IMG_6386.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1715" data-original-width="946" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Ai_jcbk0syZXyV0-twbac214RHRdwSzuRcbHX-c4GHHiHTHX-R4-wwMa4UyMGUupBdOy85KKOLAgcjojlkpA3K5FAxtFXgGUB0mT8xWgS4yEy7FW-J1SBHFXDsf2r4cLKvip8Tvoonf7mTTnL08DyIja985rCas7QO53NB0tqQ6Ko03lVpiXGQ3E/s320/IMG_6386.jpg" width="177" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the first rides I did with Will, photo courtesy of Simon</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div>In the spring of my freshman year, the COVID-19 thing happened. That meant most of my classes were online, which also meant more time for biking. My freshman year in college was mainly a year of road riding for me. I did some mountain biking, but mainly, I did a ton of road rides with a bunch of friends. At times I do miss my road bike, but for me, nothing compares to dirt.</div><div><br /></div><div>I met Will in the fall of my sophomore year, and we started riding a stupid amount of miles. Stupid in a really good way. He was a senior also at Penn State (but we met through biking, not school), so we both had online classes due to COVID-19 and therefore we basically had unlimited time to ride. It was some of the craziest and most fun times of my life. We literally rode over 20 hours a week the entire winter and spring, and maybe that turned us into some kind of animal. Like an old, tired, sickly dog barely able to walk. Although maybe that was just me after riding with Will for weeks on end. Will probably wasn't tired at all. The crown jewel of our winter training was supposed to be the True Grit Epic in March of 2021, and we flew out to Utah with a group of friends for that. Unfortunately, that race got canceled while we were out there, but it was still some great riding. I also did the TSE Epic 5-day MTB race in State College that spring with Will, Dahn, Thad, and some more friends. That was my first time riding in State College, and it was almost like foreshadowing to my time at Penn State starting that coming fall semester.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGM7FnfmdHZi9m4LV9kYU8_t1W5d0ZwDOYMSKPRIIPbpO29Qk0aEzdHaytm8GEYRzDSpnS_PwWvtOHNSqHKMW3oOGAHSa2WcZNA58-HUKhKUem34u9wSXUOljdLbN5f6Vgl3xmm6AHWrhULwp_v2NDGUPdeez1-VIqhfUgLj7yAJgsntyz9jvij0QS/s4032/IMG_0838%202.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGM7FnfmdHZi9m4LV9kYU8_t1W5d0ZwDOYMSKPRIIPbpO29Qk0aEzdHaytm8GEYRzDSpnS_PwWvtOHNSqHKMW3oOGAHSa2WcZNA58-HUKhKUem34u9wSXUOljdLbN5f6Vgl3xmm6AHWrhULwp_v2NDGUPdeez1-VIqhfUgLj7yAJgsntyz9jvij0QS/s320/IMG_0838%202.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flagpole Peak near Lake Tahoe with Will and Bob (not pictured), July 2021<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div>Anyways, that was the winter and spring of 2020-2021. In the summer of 2021, there were quite a few escapades like driving to Oregon with <a href="http://www.johnnyhamburgers.com/2021/11/great-american-road-trip-2021-part-2.html">Will for 24 Hour MTB Nationals</a>, and <a href="http://www.johnnyhamburgers.com/2021/11/breck-epic-sort-of.html">also going to Breck Epic</a>. I also did the Rockstar 250 gravel route, and a few other big rides that summer. But that's not directly related to Penn State, so I'll be more brief about that. But feel free to click on the above links to read more.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj8k5dyXYaDQYqGoSO0fbBNvNY0A30m9oVU6pvnBK-sFdlvcEq3oRFX21HTTaOXr6tGM0opNM9sVAol5U9b1bdYAT8pE1P9GrQUI1FGCr8E5XvQdkV2uKgQgceDmjJsUW6mqpRbPWy7MXaFQtTIo8Um5KfyIpqHVESsOm-EIvETllSTQ6Ip76n8BhA/s4032/IMG_8304%203.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj8k5dyXYaDQYqGoSO0fbBNvNY0A30m9oVU6pvnBK-sFdlvcEq3oRFX21HTTaOXr6tGM0opNM9sVAol5U9b1bdYAT8pE1P9GrQUI1FGCr8E5XvQdkV2uKgQgceDmjJsUW6mqpRbPWy7MXaFQtTIo8Um5KfyIpqHVESsOm-EIvETllSTQ6Ip76n8BhA/s320/IMG_8304%203.HEIC" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breck Epic 2021 with so many FRANDS</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>That fall, 2021, was the start of my junior year, and it also meant I was going up to main campus in State College.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't think my college experience was very typical. Pretty much every other weekend that fall semester, Will came up to State College. Now, that in itself is not atypical, sometimes friends visit friends in college. But while my neighbors were getting wasted and playing beer pong, Will and I were grinding out 8 hour rides in Rothrock.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdJaFjdJnzrVix1DOQ0iJi7b4iHClG0nYSTaDclEB4zZee_pMBEDAnR3Hu9XLp_WNPScrOSuBbUBykzTkeRmEemWwNpLaV0hTMpximqxxfxTYNQO8J6NuyWiUICzLEFKK9OKsb4yXCrTwFGIKoAQ8UE3bZU1odN16-pP-UM5-ghfzQBZR9-2ZDspB/s4032/IMG_3156.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdJaFjdJnzrVix1DOQ0iJi7b4iHClG0nYSTaDclEB4zZee_pMBEDAnR3Hu9XLp_WNPScrOSuBbUBykzTkeRmEemWwNpLaV0hTMpximqxxfxTYNQO8J6NuyWiUICzLEFKK9OKsb4yXCrTwFGIKoAQ8UE3bZU1odN16-pP-UM5-ghfzQBZR9-2ZDspB/s320/IMG_3156.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think this was a couple hours before we started Double unPAved PA, haha</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>That fall semester in 2021 will certainly go down as one of the craziest stretches of two or three months of my life. In my fall semester, I was fortunate to be able to do:</div><div><br /></div><div>- The<a href="http://www.johnnyhamburgers.com/2021/10/880-mile8-day-crush-commonwealth-gravel.html"> 850 mile Penn's Woods Passage gravel route</a> across Pennsylvania with Will</div><div>- Back to back to back 200 mile rides to Lake Ontario and back via Niagara Falls with Will</div><div>- Back to back loops of the UnPAved PA gravel race, totaling 250 miles in 20 hours with Will</div><div>- Driving out to Park City to help Dahn Pahrs move</div><div>- Too many other 8+ hour rides to remember</div><div><br /></div><div>Like I said, it was crazy. There wasn't much time for school, but I made do and managed to keep my GPA quite good. There were also some fun non-bike times mixed in as well, but somehow, they all managed to somehow indirectly relate to bikes. Also, that whole time, we were planning for the Great Divide the next year, so that was a really cool thing to have on the horizon.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7KfTLFlCIogRwuw_stSvu25wrEHKUGweK21kHYsjij_lDAcWzeVwCxMIS1cMDVY0PQNBkJ8mySFSSUpM0RTrZP3iEJ2QNEj0H5AyBTncNdrPGMHFtHUYF9ftf2RR5az2Xo1nGyOYXVTttjQyry5Lr-3WyNAfqtlLyrs-ZURA_P1EEn44AsSqWq4Sq/s2048/IMG_3865.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1150" data-original-width="2048" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7KfTLFlCIogRwuw_stSvu25wrEHKUGweK21kHYsjij_lDAcWzeVwCxMIS1cMDVY0PQNBkJ8mySFSSUpM0RTrZP3iEJ2QNEj0H5AyBTncNdrPGMHFtHUYF9ftf2RR5az2Xo1nGyOYXVTttjQyry5Lr-3WyNAfqtlLyrs-ZURA_P1EEn44AsSqWq4Sq/s320/IMG_3865.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tussey Ridge in State College with Will and Uncle Brad, November 2021</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>In the spring of 2022, my second semester of school in State College, I got to face the wrath of a winter in Rothrock. The roads and trails were covered in snow and ice for much of the winter, but frequent trips back home to Pittsburgh, a <a href="http://www.johnnyhamburgers.com/search/label/AZ%20Trip">bikepacking trip to Arizona</a> and a <a href="http://www.johnnyhamburgers.com/2022/01/deep-south-weekend-trip.html">road-trip to Alabama with Will</a>, and a trip to Arizona for <a href="http://www.johnnyhamburgers.com/2022/02/24-hours-of-old-pueblo-or-how-i-learned.html">24 Hours of Old Pueblo in February</a> kept things fun.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTItBXevVNaH8uI_og9r_p2uJ0LhBva9YEVxE8DaVebjS2Lk02MXgWPzgXzTLeQnhxlem9J5xf17ZrCk007zxT8buSQaIAJQTXFmnXaF2pi8YD3H7F6RYD8vU5c7Ld_BfjQgy-0aCi9CgBzLj4FnX-l2uHoBTFh9CohMku_tMCDSPmSNgnzbgW-NVb/s4032/IMG_4922.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTItBXevVNaH8uI_og9r_p2uJ0LhBva9YEVxE8DaVebjS2Lk02MXgWPzgXzTLeQnhxlem9J5xf17ZrCk007zxT8buSQaIAJQTXFmnXaF2pi8YD3H7F6RYD8vU5c7Ld_BfjQgy-0aCi9CgBzLj4FnX-l2uHoBTFh9CohMku_tMCDSPmSNgnzbgW-NVb/s320/IMG_4922.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arizona bikepacking with Will, January 2022</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Plus, as the weather warmed, Will made some trips up to State College and we got some more great rides in. Man, looking back, those are some of my favorite rides. There was something so satisfying about riding all day, coming back to my apartment to hang out and eat a ton of food, and then repeating the next day.</div><div><br /></div><div>In April of 2022, I took off a couple days of classes and <a href="http://www.johnnyhamburgers.com/2022/04/shenandoah-mountain-bikepacking.html">Will and I did a four-day bikepacking trip in Virginia</a>. Then, later that month, <a href="http://www.johnnyhamburgers.com/2022/04/circumnavigation-of-lake-erie.html">we circumnavigated Lake Erie in 3.5 days on bikes</a>, totaling about 660 miles. That was rad.</div><div><br /></div><div>The summer of 2022 came, and I did a three-week road trip out to California by way of Texas, Park City, and Moab, mostly by myself, and enjoyed a lot of good riding. I got to do some rock climbing in California with my friend Bob and his girlfriend, and riding in Moab with Dahn and Jesu felt like visiting mountain bike paradise. Then, Will and I did the Great Divide, and then <a href="http://www.johnnyhamburgers.com/2022/08/gravel-worldss-300.html">Gravel Worlds 300 </a>right before my senior year started. <a href="http://www.johnnyhamburgers.com/search/label/Great%20Divide">Click here if you want to read more about the Great Divide. A warning: I wrote A LOT. Like, a lot a lot.</a></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiovvzow6fyNEsYMuvsC8AtECP-zR932lqDa9-kzgPeIoNauLqNMeB6vhbnBaD-b00wMdR-LysqrPft3dDSN_KgpJ4qsAHfTIphvQEGsOFvgHA5CDP1DJI5C7HGfYHgq_UM1753jAFSlKr9FYcicUAZgaYRVWdimPAM7QUx0M3V65Gv2ptde6T3aVl/s4032/IMG_0310%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiovvzow6fyNEsYMuvsC8AtECP-zR932lqDa9-kzgPeIoNauLqNMeB6vhbnBaD-b00wMdR-LysqrPft3dDSN_KgpJ4qsAHfTIphvQEGsOFvgHA5CDP1DJI5C7HGfYHgq_UM1753jAFSlKr9FYcicUAZgaYRVWdimPAM7QUx0M3V65Gv2ptde6T3aVl/s320/IMG_0310%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsMAL32XT60mE8bG8zqDXlXwj3wMoXWsenoNxgTqxkQS36aHwIBh0KFEmloV5UY_ZBiPoWxi4jaGn8YwY926Vt-7V5eiTjXLANJf8Ejua3KccJeYCkEK57_xb6me6FuPZvnVFwYduRiM1ZgA3sMJ2KnBpVV_uznooNt0FxN9XdBleVvjVPLFd2VghL/s4032/IMG_8384%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsMAL32XT60mE8bG8zqDXlXwj3wMoXWsenoNxgTqxkQS36aHwIBh0KFEmloV5UY_ZBiPoWxi4jaGn8YwY926Vt-7V5eiTjXLANJf8Ejua3KccJeYCkEK57_xb6me6FuPZvnVFwYduRiM1ZgA3sMJ2KnBpVV_uznooNt0FxN9XdBleVvjVPLFd2VghL/s320/IMG_8384%202.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Scenes from the Great Divide</i></div><div><br /></div><div>The start of my senior year (fall 2022) was much like the start of my junior year: hurrying back to State College from somewhere out west after a bike race. This time, however, I had the company of my friend Nate for the first week of classes, as he stayed with me while he raced TSE Gravel. That was fun.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next weekend, Will came up to State College for 5 days (alright, I guess 5 days is more than a weekend, so I had to skip a class or two) and we did a bunch of riding. That was also fun.</div><div><br /></div><div>I then drove up to Marji Gesick 100 in Michigan with my friend and teammate Anthony in mid-September, and we both did awesome at that race. My friends Rob, Simon, and Stick were also there at Marji, so it was basically a Yinzer party. </div><div><br /></div><div>The rest of the fall in State College consisted of more awesome Rothrock rides, a couple more visits to my apartment by Will and Nate, and some more trips away from State College. I headed down to <a href="http://www.johnnyhamburgers.com/2022/10/yew-mountain-doozy-2022.html">West Virginia for the Yew Mountain Doozy with my brother and some friends in October</a>, and that was pretty rad also.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbSb8EhIRRflAwI7W_bwfq1oiTGnQR6NZGXxiQOEeF9pfQnoMj_wucOfq-GwdEGoM7mLqJn-KGdWIBW-FeGBVfVkqg4YFC-Gy8ui7oq_8A2oyvWqrA9MNXaioY_316_xcb5HPpQKPs-caRcMhNltNcEfupLLrvUQip87ExtsANjWkU97V0mT4P4LB4/s2244/IMG_1564.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2244" data-original-width="1170" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbSb8EhIRRflAwI7W_bwfq1oiTGnQR6NZGXxiQOEeF9pfQnoMj_wucOfq-GwdEGoM7mLqJn-KGdWIBW-FeGBVfVkqg4YFC-Gy8ui7oq_8A2oyvWqrA9MNXaioY_316_xcb5HPpQKPs-caRcMhNltNcEfupLLrvUQip87ExtsANjWkU97V0mT4P4LB4/s320/IMG_1564.jpg" width="167" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Laurel ride with a bunch of friends</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Oh, I guess the one thing I do want to mention is that one of the times Will came up to my place, he did the Tussey Mountainback 50k run race. Mind you, this was only two weeks after he started running again, and he won the race by like an hour or something ridiculous. He did like a 6:39 min/mile average for 31 miles or something really ridiculous.</div><div><br /></div><div>In December of my senior year, my brother and parents came up to a race in Rothrock. The year before, Will, Nate, and Ian came up to do the same race with me. Both times were very enjoyable, and the race hits my favorite couple trails in Rothrock: Tussey Ridge and John Wert. I am more than a little bit sad not have those trails as my home trails anymore.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyways, after the fall semester of my senior year ended, <a href="http://www.johnnyhamburgers.com/2023/01/texas-actually-has-some-really-neat.html">my brother and I drove to Texas to do some riding before the spring semester started.</a> That was a nice trip. It was in the Big Bend region of Texas, and the weather was warm and sunny the whole time. I love the desert, so naturally, that terrain appeals to me a lot.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioDxB2Q9aEZqTtS7952wRxNeeLgJ0QLCng3UR4IjKv-0LlvpMnx0b4wWIacshqrOJ9Nl9NWxaDlfUPoFtdauiK_k--Mlgd0iouWS7fnpJJPFuOvxtlaDF48VcSOaGvfbgEt76o3MMcCq8jWrqOw3X-OdREJlcCJiegom5mQUa7Z4uRFf_VXEptB-H_/s4032/IMG_2439.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioDxB2Q9aEZqTtS7952wRxNeeLgJ0QLCng3UR4IjKv-0LlvpMnx0b4wWIacshqrOJ9Nl9NWxaDlfUPoFtdauiK_k--Mlgd0iouWS7fnpJJPFuOvxtlaDF48VcSOaGvfbgEt76o3MMcCq8jWrqOw3X-OdREJlcCJiegom5mQUa7Z4uRFf_VXEptB-H_/s320/IMG_2439.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Texas with Zach in January 2023</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Surprisingly, this past winter in Rothrock was not snowy at all, so I actually got to do sweet trail rides almost all winter when I got back. Toward the end of the semester, I got into a rhythm of getting close to 20 hours per week of singlespeed rocky trail riding. That was awesome.</div><div><br /></div><div>This semester, my final one, was definitely different from the last year. I'd say as a general trend, I did less monster rides and trips, but I definitely did way more big rides in Rothrock by myself. I came to love doing long solo rides in the trails by myself; it's such a good way to clear the mind. Part of the thing about the previous spring was that when you're doing stupid hard rides every weekend, you have to rest during the week. This spring, I wasn't doing as many stupid hard rides, so I was able to do more moderately hard rides during the week. It was different, but I think different was fun for a change. But also, I must mention a key difference: Will is now running and not biking. I don't quite have the same motivation to ride pavement around Lake Erie for 660 miles by myself as I did when I was doing it with a friend. And I don't think I know anyone else who would do things like that with me.</div><div><br /></div><div>But, like I said, I truly enjoyed this last spring semester. I am grateful that I was able to put so many miles in Rothrock. Doing big trips all the time is amazing and I would gladly do that again when the time comes, but it was also really fun to get into a groove of shredding Rothrock hard every week. They're both good, and I'm glad I got the opportunity to do both while at State College.</div><div><br /></div><div>As the spring semester came to an end, and with it my time at Penn State, I was able to end it with a couple cool things. <a href="http://www.johnnyhamburgers.com/2023/05/crushed-by-commonwealth-2023-ie-dnf.html">I did half of the CTC with Rob and Stick (i.e. we scratched)</a>, and then drove down to <a href="http://www.johnnyhamburgers.com/2023/05/pmbar-23-part-2-a.html">PMBAR in North Carolina the next weekend with Rob</a>. Oh wait, I guess that was just two weekends ago. So anyways, that pretty much catches me up to the present then. Click on the links if you want to read more about that.</div><div><br /></div><div>I swear I didn't intend this post to be so long. Damnit. I can't stop myself. Sorry. But anyways, that's a not-so-brief recap of my time at Penn State. That was a whirlwind couple of years, but man, I wouldn't have it any other way. I mean that. Here's to the rest of my life like that, haha.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-71881833749293403502023-05-11T07:00:00.002-04:002023-05-11T07:12:20.278-04:00PMBAR '23: Part 2, the first place loserI stared blankly down at the map as Cinderbloch raced to locate the checkpoints. I nodded my head and occasionally let out an "uh huh", but to be honest, I was just the pretty face in this operation. In the words of Schultz from Hogan's Heroes: I know nothing.<div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0nBkr1AAqLdLvA659CPIG7m7q880mUkJlPh3S-mmBIijpMwnE1y_Bh6HIL_JF4WLzxRTC0h1xXTQjb1yHtuD46oAgLVgVK6FTgMG4dMBGMU2TLkJZYzo9BhCb1elDCRnAXQgGPl5IiWeKMTVYwpFVZwuRhLfuvV0xmpD7UovJ2yPo2xXeZWw3R8F1/s1080/IMG_4714.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0nBkr1AAqLdLvA659CPIG7m7q880mUkJlPh3S-mmBIijpMwnE1y_Bh6HIL_JF4WLzxRTC0h1xXTQjb1yHtuD46oAgLVgVK6FTgMG4dMBGMU2TLkJZYzo9BhCb1elDCRnAXQgGPl5IiWeKMTVYwpFVZwuRhLfuvV0xmpD7UovJ2yPo2xXeZWw3R8F1/s320/IMG_4714.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Buckhorn Gap (I think)</td></tr></tbody></table><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But seriously. I did know nothing. After a few minutes of map reading, Cinderbloch seemed confident (enough) on where to go, so we headed off down Buckhorn Gap Trail. If you didn't read the first post, or forgot what PMBAR is, it's an adventure MTB race that requires you to navigate on your own to five checkpoints in Pisgah National Forest. Oh, and you don't know the checkpoints until the start of the race, and you can ride any route you want. But anyways.</div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Buckhorn Gap was a pretty fast descent. Wide, relatively non-technical, and not overly steep. It reminded me a lot of Detweiler in the Wilderness 101. At the bottom, there was a creek to cross, and we made our way onto South Mills River Trail (the map says it's a road, but no). We took that for a while before joining onto Squirrel Gap Trail.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Squirrel Gap was easily one of my favorite trails of the day. It was just technical enough to keep you on your toes, but not enough to break your rhythm. Perfect. It weaved along hillsides, dove through short rocky sections, and just had that indescribable quality about it that made me smile.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We reached a checkpoint - our first one - and after getting our passport stamped, we kept riding. Before long, we reached an intersection. We could either continue on Squirrel Gap, or turn onto Horse Cove Gap. Our first instinct was to stay on Squirrel, and two out of three dentists agreed. I mean teams. Two out of three teams that we saw stayed on Squirrel.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0m941lSgCYLauEvzbuDca8Oo-bFsyDtSEY4sQdiX_GQkTLWufeMr5leYvvlVdn4T_F7laCqf843EPWSG5sqW-BK1yy_YAluQToZny5KWVqxHVXTcH9HiSqz6aKj4DFdyeZWJT1iupJzCCckyI3mDiNW2RCtuXvs9Y5MRKd9IhdmN-3_yahqiJctlN/s4032/IMG_4680.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0m941lSgCYLauEvzbuDca8Oo-bFsyDtSEY4sQdiX_GQkTLWufeMr5leYvvlVdn4T_F7laCqf843EPWSG5sqW-BK1yy_YAluQToZny5KWVqxHVXTcH9HiSqz6aKj4DFdyeZWJT1iupJzCCckyI3mDiNW2RCtuXvs9Y5MRKd9IhdmN-3_yahqiJctlN/s320/IMG_4680.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Map checking on Squirrel Gap</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We stayed on Squirrel Gap for quite some time, until turning onto Mullinax Trail. It was a really fun downhill with some chunky sections mixed in, and we knew right away it was a trail we did not climb back up again later in the race.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After Mullinax, we turned back onto South Mills River Road/Trail (it was now more of a doubletrack) and rode for about a mile or two until we hit the second checkpoint. On the way there, we saw Dicky and Watts riding the opposite direction. They were the singlespeed team that was public enemy number one, or at least our main competition. The fact that they were coming from the checkpoint already means they were a good deal ahead of us.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">At the checkpoint, I filled up water from the river (with my filter), scarfed down some food, and did some more blank staring as Cinderbloch figured out where to go now. He pointed back to where we came, and I hopped on my bike and followed him. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpb9of4NSv1fAbIsdkRIOYHQP6U91gST22eGjo68A5c2m1u_pt71JB8JyhfwE5KnH1cW3qk3uabLrV1ETxk9Pn1kQo4Uos9lS619yE6XpAXkRfdUmsiPDsljvzl7O58pSfAlUNKh40Mc5AY2t6qzd2tFN1W_z677ADHsgdnMAQCfOiwIVT8Pz8yJK3/s4032/IMG_4662.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpb9of4NSv1fAbIsdkRIOYHQP6U91gST22eGjo68A5c2m1u_pt71JB8JyhfwE5KnH1cW3qk3uabLrV1ETxk9Pn1kQo4Uos9lS619yE6XpAXkRfdUmsiPDsljvzl7O58pSfAlUNKh40Mc5AY2t6qzd2tFN1W_z677ADHsgdnMAQCfOiwIVT8Pz8yJK3/s320/IMG_4662.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj97_x7T899VXsx_ejnKDVHE-hXQ5DWFfIh3igVHg7GqfduKv9gxvOjDyw5V1z53SPWUNaw2DSXy2zZR_leflL2-J9AhyNivCwdepJDRcBvae33eIOc95XYWuv7iAg8Rq8BrIbXbEq2Y5HMI3s5SKIgTMvKwfNW-awnxqbAdVW_tViOt7Be7iWiJ4k/s4032/IMG_4660.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj97_x7T899VXsx_ejnKDVHE-hXQ5DWFfIh3igVHg7GqfduKv9gxvOjDyw5V1z53SPWUNaw2DSXy2zZR_leflL2-J9AhyNivCwdepJDRcBvae33eIOc95XYWuv7iAg8Rq8BrIbXbEq2Y5HMI3s5SKIgTMvKwfNW-awnxqbAdVW_tViOt7Be7iWiJ4k/s320/IMG_4660.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Bradley Creek Trail</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Eventually, we reached Bradley Creek Trail. The trail was extremely overgrown, and it crossed the creek 14 times. Yes, 14. Someone counted. Every one of them involved carrying our bike through knee to waist deep water. There were also dozens of trees down (not an exaggeration), each one requiring lifting the bike up and over. It was an experience, but to be honest, it was really enjoyable. Maybe I'm screwed up in the head (spoiler: I am), but I enjoy that kind of slog.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After Bradley Creek Trail, we were on Yellow Gap Road. It was a steady gravel climb for a while, before we started the real stupidity. From here on out, we had a good idea of where to go, and we know it involves a ton of hike a bike.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Up first was hiking up Pilot Cove Trail, right off of Yellow Gap Road. It was about 600 feet of vertical, and pretty much 100% hiking. It got pretty steep at the top, even by enduro-bro standards. Once at the top, we descended down the backside about 200 feet of vertical, where we found the checkpoint. That's three down, two to go. The friendly volunteer there gave us some Nutter Butters and Oreos, and he even filtered a little water for me. We then turned back around, hiked up the 200 foot climb we just rode down, and then descended the 600 foot trail we had just hiked up.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Back on Yellow Gap Road, we continued on until we reached Pilot Rock Trail. That trail is one of the most well-known trails in the area, and 99.9% of the time, it is ridden as a downhill. Actually, 100% of the time it's ridden as a downhill. Any time someone goes up it with a bike, it's not riding: it's hike-a-bike.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiV59CmUabGZ2vaX9t5-Cl7f9PUrP6sPsXSFa0glgzRL1G1DKm9v6yf55nPuLY3JMrsGYfmh5_JHb0yPOx09DN84cO0rM4NT01Qx-YriTA6W_VI_aq5R4ZkKp3HIUTSQOGSJEAePuj-gw_ipGjxtd0K1TkaJ2RPHkGQ71JH4CjDwtIMG4O9bVlMrCA/s4032/IMG_4669.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiV59CmUabGZ2vaX9t5-Cl7f9PUrP6sPsXSFa0glgzRL1G1DKm9v6yf55nPuLY3JMrsGYfmh5_JHb0yPOx09DN84cO0rM4NT01Qx-YriTA6W_VI_aq5R4ZkKp3HIUTSQOGSJEAePuj-gw_ipGjxtd0K1TkaJ2RPHkGQ71JH4CjDwtIMG4O9bVlMrCA/s320/IMG_4669.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF78KguKXJC6IQEQw3HbGqbHkAOf5Q9iE3xLU_3FrL94ljdxYcWdnLk3NPT0bBtVMaoSTeeMnCDMxZvjmdmFIypg81tBfmOP_ZPUtnTNI1553UUF-CXCRQd1QT8Q0eYh5Vd-QGu3g8UWCGydzOsvEd4EpO4C15uc72Lz6Yz0TToG6Hr41HlJXoWRdE/s4032/IMG_4666.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF78KguKXJC6IQEQw3HbGqbHkAOf5Q9iE3xLU_3FrL94ljdxYcWdnLk3NPT0bBtVMaoSTeeMnCDMxZvjmdmFIypg81tBfmOP_ZPUtnTNI1553UUF-CXCRQd1QT8Q0eYh5Vd-QGu3g8UWCGydzOsvEd4EpO4C15uc72Lz6Yz0TToG6Hr41HlJXoWRdE/s320/IMG_4666.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Hiking up Pilot; on the gravel road</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Hiking up Pilot Rock was extremely stupid and extremely difficult. According to Strava, the hike took us 55 minutes. It was a 1,600 foot vertical hike, which is quite substantial. My right knee was really bothering me, but luckily the pain subsided quickly never to return again in the race. After we reached the top, we descended down about 600 feet of vertical to the checkpoint. Four down, one to go. And, you guessed it, then we turned right back around, hiked up the 600 foot incredibly-steep trail we just rode down, and then descended the Pilot Rock Trail which we had just hiked up.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Pilot Rock Trail is incredible, going from 4800 to about 3200 feet elevation, and is filled with great views. It has a lot of technical sections, a few of which I walked, and keeps a smile on your face the whole time. It completely made up for the stupidity of hiking up it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY8HS_SMlK5tRdCZEU-3rD2GsfYJ98ocZd6KZWv0HXE6NMOFvdBZh0oMttP99iK9UqYyBaTwrjtCwsO7U8lbGyiOkMXHZodeDGqZ7G9QwqbUr_rLseMKKQLYaweJaXj0uwJoKQtBja0aI4yFC7GNDaKAp-mH883bW4Tct6MhiKX1gk9mjJVdN1fwuP/s4032/IMG_4682.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY8HS_SMlK5tRdCZEU-3rD2GsfYJ98ocZd6KZWv0HXE6NMOFvdBZh0oMttP99iK9UqYyBaTwrjtCwsO7U8lbGyiOkMXHZodeDGqZ7G9QwqbUr_rLseMKKQLYaweJaXj0uwJoKQtBja0aI4yFC7GNDaKAp-mH883bW4Tct6MhiKX1gk9mjJVdN1fwuP/s320/IMG_4682.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEQbDMDm08kg35kkz_EilNoY9IHybp8y3OrDGEGcNoBAFEOb7PNZXRcuH3LVndkN6FQQ8bNPmqpW2L1KoS023ER2lsmNEmIzCpzuAai6Ldjjg8vkAoumdVz7KP0HRtE9olCc5gtFFdS-vW29Kq07v6PbvhNTsVN3rJKuJfBlRZcBFPWv6t0y_-2RFO/s4032/IMG_4677.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEQbDMDm08kg35kkz_EilNoY9IHybp8y3OrDGEGcNoBAFEOb7PNZXRcuH3LVndkN6FQQ8bNPmqpW2L1KoS023ER2lsmNEmIzCpzuAai6Ldjjg8vkAoumdVz7KP0HRtE9olCc5gtFFdS-vW29Kq07v6PbvhNTsVN3rJKuJfBlRZcBFPWv6t0y_-2RFO/s320/IMG_4677.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Filling up bottles at the bottom of Pilot Rock; another shot of Pilot Rock Trail</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Once at the bottom and back on Yellow Gap, we took that road out to a pavement road, rode down that for about a mile, and then turned onto Avery Creek Road, another gravel road.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Shortly after joining Avery Creek Road, we turned off and started riding/hiking up Cub Gap Trail, which would take us to our last checkpoint. The checkpoint, Cub Cap, was the start of Black Mountain Trail, which leads all the way to the finish. From that final checkpoint, it was maybe only 10 miles to the finish. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Eventually, we reached the checkpoint and I chatted for a couple minutes to Chris J, who was volunteering there. We told him how we hiked up Pilot Rock, and he agreed it was extremely stupid. Oh well.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">From the checkpoint, we descended part way down Avery Creek Trail (which we hiked up the day before) and then turned onto Fire Road 507A. Or something like that. Anyways, it was rolling doubletrack terrain for a few miles, and then we got to Clawhammer Road. We descended down Clawhammer Road to Maxwell Cove Road (according to Strava map), which was a 700-800 foot climb back up to Black Mountain Trail. I felt super good on that climb, so I started pushing the pace and tried to pass as many people as I could.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But wait, why did we do such a weird route instead of just following Black Mountain Trail to the finish? Well, the section of Black Mountain Trail we skipped is horrible. So much hike a bike, extremely slow, and just an overall bad decision. If you don't believe me, we saw a couple riders take a different option, and they finished 45 minutes behind us. So, like I said, avoiding Black Mountain Trail was extremely smart.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After re-joining Black Mountain Trail at Maxwell Cove, we took that downhill all the way to the finish. It was an awesome way to finish, and it was also the required way to finish. Even without the requirement though, it would still be my preferred way of finishing, that's for sure.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp8JRYC8aezdlxcMB-UGoq1BC4oem3BmpDLTxFYMugboEgD9SDhzP_oI3HK2oun1-5XGks0AiSklEt3Gld1GqibWHCNK3EwtdYHRr8Ijcyfepj2U8PsT5auO6jHa-F9MIIT3XmpW9kMSJEOKWik3fkLSKJ2W6GSg2Pe52J5z79GaOpI3JhZW7ET5a_/s1080/IMG_4715.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp8JRYC8aezdlxcMB-UGoq1BC4oem3BmpDLTxFYMugboEgD9SDhzP_oI3HK2oun1-5XGks0AiSklEt3Gld1GqibWHCNK3EwtdYHRr8Ijcyfepj2U8PsT5auO6jHa-F9MIIT3XmpW9kMSJEOKWik3fkLSKJ2W6GSg2Pe52J5z79GaOpI3JhZW7ET5a_/w300-h200/IMG_4715.JPG" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWckjs5ZsIF0OMKPlJjeeLrUcxJuX2uZbNCKL8BoIGLLSpKH-hkWmL40Dtjxc91CphsQfsgRiEdt7FSg1UGmEwHJaJdsAZx_UNvhwMxBljf3QHzTWk5zl2CaZF17m2XBQlmoyQEznixvUETB1JNW-bio7YJze2J5bd5b9jJjf1ekFxsI9L0GG5b85E/s1080/IMG_4712.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWckjs5ZsIF0OMKPlJjeeLrUcxJuX2uZbNCKL8BoIGLLSpKH-hkWmL40Dtjxc91CphsQfsgRiEdt7FSg1UGmEwHJaJdsAZx_UNvhwMxBljf3QHzTWk5zl2CaZF17m2XBQlmoyQEznixvUETB1JNW-bio7YJze2J5bd5b9jJjf1ekFxsI9L0GG5b85E/w302-h201/IMG_4712.JPG" width="302" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Bombing down Black Mountain Trail to the finish</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We crossed the finish line and immediately saw Dicky standing there in his pink sleeveless shirt. I asked him if he did all five checkpoints, and he said "yep", meaning he beat us. <a href="https://teamdicky.blogspot.com">Dicky</a> and his partner <a href="https://revoltingcogs.com">Watts</a> (race partner, that is) rode extremely well, and they beat us by almost an hour. That was also Dicky's 19th PMBAR, which is crazy impressive. All the kudos to them.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After looking at the results posted, it seemed no other singlespeed teams did five checkpoints, and none of them finished more than two hours before us. That means, with our two hour time bonus for doing all five, we finished in second place. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Cinderbloch and I were both really happy with 2nd place, considering neither of us knew Pisgah very well. Looking back, there were a couple mistakes we made. For one, hiking up Pilot Rock instead of taking Laurel Trail to that checkpoint easily cost us 45 minutes. Then, getting stuck mid-pack on the first climb definitely cost us time, maybe 10 to 15 minutes in total. Although, it also meant we finished the first climb extremely fresh, which was definitely a benefit. The only other questionable choice was taking Bradley Creek Trail instead of taking the gravel road, which although longer mileage, was perhaps faster time wise since the trail was so overgrown. In general, we also lost time just looking at the map and making routing decisions, but that was unavoidable since neither of us knew the trails well.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But, despite just writing a whole paragraph about our mistakes, I'm very happy with how it went. We didn't make nearly as many bad decisions as we could've made, and we still beat every singlespeed team except for one. I'd say mission mostly accomplished down at Pisgah, and I'm certainly satisfied with how it went.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip2M-vworw7FCdMG5DGzH4kuiuh8XbQmL0AY-gEmRsIoCfNsdTzLiDYV7niKOdWQf8t58s38Tv0DNBn1s6pNkNbzl8ILwPY9JqWRohHHRxavB6wES3l4g8XuXAhbzN7ZxeVFPRpl9EIKefotUIQ-DYo-73T8ylJLR1s6-6s3PkKoJmERQcytcD611q/s4032/IMG_5422.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip2M-vworw7FCdMG5DGzH4kuiuh8XbQmL0AY-gEmRsIoCfNsdTzLiDYV7niKOdWQf8t58s38Tv0DNBn1s6pNkNbzl8ILwPY9JqWRohHHRxavB6wES3l4g8XuXAhbzN7ZxeVFPRpl9EIKefotUIQ-DYo-73T8ylJLR1s6-6s3PkKoJmERQcytcD611q/s320/IMG_5422.JPEG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-XtqH7LqYe4yMAmfL8dMeFtm095Op8LyUGmPmKbPDLLqAWUdK-qSGgFDrWebL9vpDMX0sI1sBN6tbGB2rBxF9-ycyjdIAeNrAK9-KI5_mHcMlf8sBve4J5eH-wqTQK9kVBoPEWRTlid_ETTuDIAcOOC5E_hoOkSblpM3ZFv3zFJLkl2xxn5Nk-w56/s1080/IMG_4717.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-XtqH7LqYe4yMAmfL8dMeFtm095Op8LyUGmPmKbPDLLqAWUdK-qSGgFDrWebL9vpDMX0sI1sBN6tbGB2rBxF9-ycyjdIAeNrAK9-KI5_mHcMlf8sBve4J5eH-wqTQK9kVBoPEWRTlid_ETTuDIAcOOC5E_hoOkSblpM3ZFv3zFJLkl2xxn5Nk-w56/s320/IMG_4717.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>The SS podium; hanging out after the race</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After chatting with Dicky for a little bit at the finish, Cinderbloch and I went to get showered and changed back into non-biking-costume clothes. After that, it was time for podium pictures, and then dinner. Hawg Wild closes at 8pm, and it was 7:45pm, so we decided not to be <i>those people</i> and went to a Mexican instead. I just graduated from Penn State, so Cinderbloch bought me a celebratory dinner and margarita, mucho gracias.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvTOxpckqB9KEXQ6VpMC9CeD2_4yKp7gVtTL4GbJFUBXUgePKke7oJTvBXg0u8QNemQvN5n4rH5N4DBELzeKe2aWWcMlQJ3AGCpxFqzzc0yZEDtXLnBVhhfrtm5oXM-JWB9P5RkuEbZlbIuvA4LtowWyjIBQWbndaKhslNIrAQBSCxKVaIDnJxSH2R/s4032/IMG_4686.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvTOxpckqB9KEXQ6VpMC9CeD2_4yKp7gVtTL4GbJFUBXUgePKke7oJTvBXg0u8QNemQvN5n4rH5N4DBELzeKe2aWWcMlQJ3AGCpxFqzzc0yZEDtXLnBVhhfrtm5oXM-JWB9P5RkuEbZlbIuvA4LtowWyjIBQWbndaKhslNIrAQBSCxKVaIDnJxSH2R/s320/IMG_4686.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Ud1ciZfMKcfGQNpe-6FU3Wtyy1d7Kjv3SxJX5p3GKt5o5owWJYXCE2PJme_UsB1jG_4MivBGZaytynd8PUZpKU8rSRYQZEpWOklHSZm0r1g3FAdEtrY12hbwClJ4SnGpvgitjY2WftT2TU_DJyN_zZz7BYLdru220mrR3nSyaYcyv3L481aJ3C_J/s4032/IMG_4696.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Ud1ciZfMKcfGQNpe-6FU3Wtyy1d7Kjv3SxJX5p3GKt5o5owWJYXCE2PJme_UsB1jG_4MivBGZaytynd8PUZpKU8rSRYQZEpWOklHSZm0r1g3FAdEtrY12hbwClJ4SnGpvgitjY2WftT2TU_DJyN_zZz7BYLdru220mrR3nSyaYcyv3L481aJ3C_J/s320/IMG_4696.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Margarita courtesy of Cinderbloch; JAM BARS</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Once we finished our margaritas and Mexican, we headed back to the race finish. There was free beer, and Dicky had already told us he was going to be staying there very late. The rest of the night pretty much consisted of cheering on finishers, drinking beers, and Jam bars. If you ever want to know what a Jam bar is, just ask Dicky.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was able to chat with a bunch of friends that evening, and talked with some new friends. Ryan, the director of Transylvania Productions, was there until late, so we talked a good bit. I also got to talk with Jarz for a while, someone I knew from social media but not in person. Nice to put faces to the names. I don't want to list everyone, because I know I'll forget someone, but there were a lot of cool people there.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Me, Dicky, Watts, and a few other people stayed around at the finish until around 1 AM, when we went our separate ways. Luckily, I found my way back to camp, although the mile-long walk back was quite treacherous. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS3CkVYMGFHfGzcqUbms2KMbNxAiWC0ERP0MyelS_5RyFgjXbwQBVeu1KmAt9wS5d4mmJWuzqnv7XCTfSURHlKzxX5iajIPAS4nbaAW6rM3kOPbB8p4-iHFr0lSLloLX8Am-OiIaZ2IWUuy8XfoKx71c87MSK9M9NIUEvbR08VPSaATkI-F7EQ3r-9/s4032/IMG_4691.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS3CkVYMGFHfGzcqUbms2KMbNxAiWC0ERP0MyelS_5RyFgjXbwQBVeu1KmAt9wS5d4mmJWuzqnv7XCTfSURHlKzxX5iajIPAS4nbaAW6rM3kOPbB8p4-iHFr0lSLloLX8Am-OiIaZ2IWUuy8XfoKx71c87MSK9M9NIUEvbR08VPSaATkI-F7EQ3r-9/s320/IMG_4691.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-zdSDYqAmTjklO2Md_Xv5BOgnXJMXzvrrUao1p0JOxa8BVRirgkxPdS1KuTGy_I8NI-8f6HwuRWQY95c06A3p-EUSvxE55QMx39Nl6FbXh-IVNpfnP_I1A8U2x3O3G5xMQIlUwdRvfdmI85R94C0kOYh66O1_t_U84PDzVGhsayP5HHrVigvms0Ub/s4032/IMG_4690.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-zdSDYqAmTjklO2Md_Xv5BOgnXJMXzvrrUao1p0JOxa8BVRirgkxPdS1KuTGy_I8NI-8f6HwuRWQY95c06A3p-EUSvxE55QMx39Nl6FbXh-IVNpfnP_I1A8U2x3O3G5xMQIlUwdRvfdmI85R94C0kOYh66O1_t_U84PDzVGhsayP5HHrVigvms0Ub/s320/IMG_4690.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Post-race gathering</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The next morning, Cinderbloch and I packed up and hit the road around 7:30 AM. It was a pretty rainy drive, but we made it back to the 'Burg before dinner time.</div><div><br /></div></div><div>It truly was a perfect race, if there ever was one. I got to suffer all day long on fantastic trails and then hang out with friends until after midnight; it's hard to beat that. Pisgah Productions does an A+ job on races, and I'll certainly be making many more trips to Pisgah for these races.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div></div></div>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-889839701696127047.post-69908452785252367232023-05-08T08:23:00.006-04:002023-05-08T08:23:49.202-04:00PMBAR '23: Part One<p>"You've never been there?", in an incredulous voice, is the usual response I get from people when the topic of Pisgah comes up. It's true. I've been fortunate enough to have ridden in well over 20 states, bikepacked the Great Divide, but still, I've never been to Pisgah. So, when Cinderbloch texted me back in February about being his partner for the PMBAR race, it was the perfect opportunity. In case you're wondering, Pisgah is a National Forest in western North Carolina, and it's the home of a huge network of trails.</p><p>I finished my last final exam at Penn State on Wednesday, and it went well, which means I unofficially graduated from Penn State. I guess they'll mail me my diploma? I dunno. I now have a B.S. (which mebbe stands for bullshit) degree in general science, and a minor in mathematics. I still have to get a teaching certification if I want to teach high school math, so that'll be one more year of school, but at least I'm one big-ish step closer.</p><p>But anyways, I drove home from Penn State Wednesday evening, hurriedly packed up everything I needed for a weekend of camping and bicycle racing, and went to bed as early as I could. Cinderbloch and I left around 7:30am on Thursday, bound for Pisgah, and got there just before dinner time. It's actually a pretty cool drive; the mountains on I-26 between Johnson City, TN and Asheville, NC are really something,</p><p>Once there, we set up camp (which for me consisted of my teeny tiny bikepacking tent), and then pedaled into town for dinner. We went to a BBQ place called "Hawg Wild", and before long, I got a text from Dahn Pahrs with a picture of him in the same restaurant when he did PMBAR a few years ago. He was bragging to us about how much food he ate. I guess you need a lot of food when you're Dahn Pahrs.</p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfWB3mCRPC7hyZPVdJCgiGs9luB-7RQnqYSW0FQadiZ6Lm7zL3IBBk8C9XyUJ3iHCpV-UuyQpjfu2HRxFAGxIo5aVrvrd-JHkxndMKgT03LSR0nSXzGVLP29JHC8gLJGrsHh0x8NYpTB5K_qZtzB4WhjtOLfi18dQvz4DS7fXsrjhtHn5pk9TMP8oz/s4032/IMG_4531.HEIC"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfWB3mCRPC7hyZPVdJCgiGs9luB-7RQnqYSW0FQadiZ6Lm7zL3IBBk8C9XyUJ3iHCpV-UuyQpjfu2HRxFAGxIo5aVrvrd-JHkxndMKgT03LSR0nSXzGVLP29JHC8gLJGrsHh0x8NYpTB5K_qZtzB4WhjtOLfi18dQvz4DS7fXsrjhtHn5pk9TMP8oz/w303-h227/IMG_4531.HEIC" width="303" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiutxM4jLZU10VP4WMRqQx4mPVt_Saeo6EV3R20E9Ag7lWvYXG9ifkvTL0pmtwTiINk8sAAHQMPGZzwNHntL9tz1VkFA6y2CFUAI2RXG_VSZ3FnLZOZUQfO39YH8AeEXxZdMXv1eErbF9FqD-GnEABt89khYe-DUKc4Tfg7WaSgx5XG0x0SGl20CHFe/s910/IMG_4533%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="780" data-original-width="910" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiutxM4jLZU10VP4WMRqQx4mPVt_Saeo6EV3R20E9Ag7lWvYXG9ifkvTL0pmtwTiINk8sAAHQMPGZzwNHntL9tz1VkFA6y2CFUAI2RXG_VSZ3FnLZOZUQfO39YH8AeEXxZdMXv1eErbF9FqD-GnEABt89khYe-DUKc4Tfg7WaSgx5XG0x0SGl20CHFe/w279-h239/IMG_4533%202.jpg" width="279" /></a><br /><i>Hawg Wild with Cinderbloch; the picture Dahn sent me to brag about how much food he ate</i></div><p></p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p>The next morning, Cinderbloch and I went out for a little cruise in Pisgah. Of course, the definition of "cruise" in Pisgah means hiking our bikes most of the way up a 1,500 foot climb. It was stupid. But I like stupid, so I like Pisgah. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghJFtlCW8fRjEOAmKZa7qkapTJ2DX8WxJGmk7b5vxsqs5RnrAvG6gRXpf5M__XsFoTRcIjP0ZkuALGdLkRGDNu_-MExFlQgeN3CE6zWgdyJltGddHvrcIBynLFMQ00qi9CbEQibtZSHeUuShGNFL2CCV9D4iqwcqH0ih6XdLzGKzM4ReLow3j-FcgJ/s4032/IMG_4555%202.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghJFtlCW8fRjEOAmKZa7qkapTJ2DX8WxJGmk7b5vxsqs5RnrAvG6gRXpf5M__XsFoTRcIjP0ZkuALGdLkRGDNu_-MExFlQgeN3CE6zWgdyJltGddHvrcIBynLFMQ00qi9CbEQibtZSHeUuShGNFL2CCV9D4iqwcqH0ih6XdLzGKzM4ReLow3j-FcgJ/s320/IMG_4555%202.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRmVLV0az-oDP7RT8RiWyjdeMDyEMBEUwR9fkBmpszQRB8v5On8_Z-a6yLl85UEAYW01Uyifu7WywAdkLf9hTEMEjh5IT5hPWVIvFSZYtK0CR8cBX4A2fU4tueKTS7_TNfgsWRaNNvS7g0ygPQT7OXOiYwjCS2Q_zd5VsZHxnus2gjSZerjz64g552/s4032/IMG_4567.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRmVLV0az-oDP7RT8RiWyjdeMDyEMBEUwR9fkBmpszQRB8v5On8_Z-a6yLl85UEAYW01Uyifu7WywAdkLf9hTEMEjh5IT5hPWVIvFSZYtK0CR8cBX4A2fU4tueKTS7_TNfgsWRaNNvS7g0ygPQT7OXOiYwjCS2Q_zd5VsZHxnus2gjSZerjz64g552/s320/IMG_4567.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Crossing one of the many creeks in Pisgah; one of the many hike-a-bikes in Pisgah</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p>The trail we hiked up was "Avery Creek", and from the top, we turned onto "Black Mountain Trail". That trail had a lot more hike-a-bike, but also some killer views and excellent riding. To top it all off, we were rewarded with a fast 1,500 foot descent down Lower Black all the way to our camp. It was bueno.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiOhz0cXZsvHDHJ9cCfV0cgUORHDOOA6AHxaBqKU0Fag-XBXte8wzGcwphn161Bqg1s_yUhOxtL2H14Jhi3g5aByR9H_8Kl6VPSa7XYV3eQ9ZvyYkjQbKQiR1QYt0b2MfoROobX2FqE9zLEXu-cMMxkO8MSCoh1xVv0QAkL7np75K8kKzVkMyydckA/s4032/IMG_4587.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiOhz0cXZsvHDHJ9cCfV0cgUORHDOOA6AHxaBqKU0Fag-XBXte8wzGcwphn161Bqg1s_yUhOxtL2H14Jhi3g5aByR9H_8Kl6VPSa7XYV3eQ9ZvyYkjQbKQiR1QYt0b2MfoROobX2FqE9zLEXu-cMMxkO8MSCoh1xVv0QAkL7np75K8kKzVkMyydckA/w207-h276/IMG_4587.HEIC" width="207" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEbYqf4o2Dtg8s4-r42Txi2L0xt0esY0DPLZtR_A3oQzkwny8NiYxAMt5Bcfhkl_pbstQDglk9BCTJho2BVgJne-3jAP3IAPucsQbpNvWTsfDbCBT1v4HbGmO0sPN7eo7hUY513cs_ChNNPYH8tEaqpSnnYyhyPEE1RS9pRpCC9BWcSC4zRp7O-Wa_/s4032/IMG_4597.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEbYqf4o2Dtg8s4-r42Txi2L0xt0esY0DPLZtR_A3oQzkwny8NiYxAMt5Bcfhkl_pbstQDglk9BCTJho2BVgJne-3jAP3IAPucsQbpNvWTsfDbCBT1v4HbGmO0sPN7eo7hUY513cs_ChNNPYH8tEaqpSnnYyhyPEE1RS9pRpCC9BWcSC4zRp7O-Wa_/w208-h277/IMG_4597.HEIC" width="208" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW71yB9wpBDyEfP3x2D1fEnnEZ5v0ao4sHLGg8RaXJQML6AOkeLkN9T31ykUSM-BOjolAUKtWf_8uX2fms_82nRsDzlxDDP6vAuW12sIwjl_KrXQxM0wbL3EB4BhmUdtddBzzt6apArh4I6phwHPK7gTe1bWZknOXFAsdmEp4UYNdFszH-fvoI1bS2/s4032/IMG_4608.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW71yB9wpBDyEfP3x2D1fEnnEZ5v0ao4sHLGg8RaXJQML6AOkeLkN9T31ykUSM-BOjolAUKtWf_8uX2fms_82nRsDzlxDDP6vAuW12sIwjl_KrXQxM0wbL3EB4BhmUdtddBzzt6apArh4I6phwHPK7gTe1bWZknOXFAsdmEp4UYNdFszH-fvoI1bS2/w207-h276/IMG_4608.HEIC" width="207" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The high-point on Black Mountain Trail; hiking on Middle Black; descending Lower Black</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p>After the ride, we went to a Mexican place for lunch, where Dahn Pahrs berated me via text about it being Cinco de Mayo and me needing to have a margarita. I did have a margarita.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwM7TuaSFYQl9z2x-vg2KESPLI4C0lO1frqILYE2DSIq2FWt83Un4y21_Gjgk4jPOXLXIw1AMqO-fxPP99hdtXA7_fUM8_RKQvf-LtbmgRJADiPg287IbLRRLc8oAG2eWr9GJiVdlJXL4iXELff-JajO2UHuCJIyoZm2hVe3ZkY68g__OHQ0odVasI/s4032/IMG_4618.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwM7TuaSFYQl9z2x-vg2KESPLI4C0lO1frqILYE2DSIq2FWt83Un4y21_Gjgk4jPOXLXIw1AMqO-fxPP99hdtXA7_fUM8_RKQvf-LtbmgRJADiPg287IbLRRLc8oAG2eWr9GJiVdlJXL4iXELff-JajO2UHuCJIyoZm2hVe3ZkY68g__OHQ0odVasI/s320/IMG_4618.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>One margarita was enough for me, don't tell Dahn</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Then we took a cruise in the car up to the Blue Ridge Parkway, and of minor significance is that it was the highest elevation I've been at east of the Mississippi. The rest of the day was filled with bike tinkering, packet pickup, and dinner at Corky's Dawg House. I'm sensing a theme with these "-awg" endings in restaurants. Hawg. Dawg. I approve.</p><p>The loud birds woke us up again on race morning at around 6 AM, and after checking over our bikes and gear for the millionth time, Cinderbloch and I pedaled over to the race start. We said hello to some more friends, checked in, and settled-in somewhere mid-pack in the group of riders at the start line, since many people had already lined up ahead of us. That was our first mistake.</p><p>I guess first, I'll go over the layout and rules of the PMBAR race. There are five checkpoints, the location of which vary every year, and you don't know where they are until you get your passport at the start of the race. There is no suggested route, only a list of a few prohibited roads, and you must navigate on your own from point to point. Technically, you only need four of the five checkpoints, and the fifth is a time bonus of debatable worth, but the thought of only getting four never crossed our mind. All told, the race ends up between 60-75 miles and 9,000 to 12,000 feet of climbing. Total time would almost certainly be over 9 hours.</p><p>Now back to the start of the race. Like I said, most years, you get your passport at the start line, evaluate the map, and then start riding once you figure out generally where to go. This year, the passports were located at the to of a 1,500 foot climb, which means the start was a mass-start immediately into tight singletrack. Being mid-pack at the start line meant we got stuck behind so many people who were going so much slower than we wanted on the opening climb.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCQNwPYzlTekX2LBBjm4zU6ii14Q9-IhKDxryUn_ppxUHzSN8ElXMZDt7DnndHyVIiTf1L2VXiO2KhI8jnp_n4CwOa12Ekgj9TAVt6auFdse-ijyMUPR8Zo_t2VZ_iFLzkz2s0v79Ud1klhLjJPyUnGmUCjilS5jZhWME9LoXzhFC6Cf-si2sKv7h/s4032/IMG_4649.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCQNwPYzlTekX2LBBjm4zU6ii14Q9-IhKDxryUn_ppxUHzSN8ElXMZDt7DnndHyVIiTf1L2VXiO2KhI8jnp_n4CwOa12Ekgj9TAVt6auFdse-ijyMUPR8Zo_t2VZ_iFLzkz2s0v79Ud1klhLjJPyUnGmUCjilS5jZhWME9LoXzhFC6Cf-si2sKv7h/s320/IMG_4649.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The start line</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Being on singlespeeds, it was especially difficult to follow people up a climb who were, firstly, not as fast of riders as us, and secondly, shifting into their 52 tooth pie plate gear and spinning up the climb slower than we could walk most of the time. Passing people was impossible, especially because there was a huge congo-line ahead of us.</p><p>After almost an hour of being stuck behind people, we finally worked our way toward the front and made an attack. And by attack, I mean getting off our bikes and sprinting on foot past people as they spun in their 52 tooth great-great-great-granny gear. It worked. Free at last. I'd say we maybe lost 10 to 15 minutes on the climb being stuck behind people, but at least we were still fresh, because we barely worked at all on the whole climb.</p><p>At the top of the first climb, we got our passport and took a look at the locations to start plotting our route. I was totally clueless, but Cinderbloch has been there before, so he took charge, or at least, he had some hunches of where to go.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh16Nx8a1mKlgWJ1RAnljFKANxkM2XE3atveUuBXJ3XtNVbR67spX-ev20pDVprreVN5EVmPfI1amok_Oco2C5ONaa-3Wdqvpeor4LAoJNtN9J5K-ey5HR1bV8ybf9Lg0B14ZzZIr1iM0tDuWYqIBIiRXQ0VQoq3emTeS4KlcPtcRA4Rv5M1t3zPbo/s400/aa1ccdfe-f7eb-4abb-9e9c-799a1adb0e4f_text.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="218" data-original-width="400" height="174" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh16Nx8a1mKlgWJ1RAnljFKANxkM2XE3atveUuBXJ3XtNVbR67spX-ev20pDVprreVN5EVmPfI1amok_Oco2C5ONaa-3Wdqvpeor4LAoJNtN9J5K-ey5HR1bV8ybf9Lg0B14ZzZIr1iM0tDuWYqIBIiRXQ0VQoq3emTeS4KlcPtcRA4Rv5M1t3zPbo/s320/aa1ccdfe-f7eb-4abb-9e9c-799a1adb0e4f_text.gif" width="320" /></a></div><p>I'll save the rest of the race and the post-race festivities for part two, because if I make it all one post, it'll be way too long to read. Plus, I hate to leave out things just to trim it down, so you'll have to wait a couple days (or maybe just one day if I'm motivated) to read the rest. Because I know you're all on the edge of your seat to keep reading.</p>John Vorbergerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17799803052770809224noreply@blogger.com0