Landmine Classic 2013

GOOD. LORD.

I have no idea how Wompatuck's reputation did not precede it but I totally missed the memo on this one.  Although I suppose it does exist in that weird middle zone between buff and full on technical that many people have a hard time explaining accurately.  But I'm gonna give it my best shot for those of us that ride without suspension.

purty

Wompy is FAST.  But it is not buff.  AT ALL.  It is washboard roots and small rocks, not enough to really slow you down but just enough to require constant attention and rattle you into oblivion.  Its like that literally everywhere, it is relentless.  This course had maybe a handful of places you could 'relax' everything else was ridiculous high speed beat down.  You know how sometimes when things get really chattery you can have a bottle pop out after taking a solid shot?  I saw a bottle on the trail STILL IN THE CAGE.  This course rattled someones entire bottle cage off. By mile 10 just about all the food in my bento box was gone.  Either pulverized or sent flying into the woods.  I have been racing with that for years and never had that issue once.

For a short period I was having fun, maybe about 1/2 to 2/3 through the first lap.  I was getting beat up pretty bad but the pace was high and the trails are really great just so punishing at race pace.  I think I was sitting about 5th or so, which was in the money for this race so I was feeling pretty good because I usually finish stronger than most at these distances.  But around this time I was assuming the course was going to let up at some point.  This did not happen.  In fact it got worse.  I was laughing at times I was getting so brutally battered.

I was having a harder time putting power down because I was spending little time actually entirely in contact with the ground.  I was getting thrown around like a rag doll.  My wrist and shoulder were starting to feel weak and sore and I was starting to get a hot spot on my palm.  Never had issues with that before but I think it might have been caused by my attempt to let the bars float a bit in the rough stuff which created more rub in a weird spot.  It got pretty bad pretty fast and my prospects at finishing strong were dwindling quickly.

yeah blister pics! second one this season

Somehow I was still managing my nutrition ok.  No cramps, legs and lungs felt pretty good when the course actually let me use them.  No one had caught me for a while so I figured that meant everyone else was suffering as bad as me.  I could tell I was starting to fade though and I was having more and more issues riding things cleanly.  I wasn't dabbing or crashing but I was wasting A LOT of energy.  I came through the lap point in a little over 2hrs which I'm happy with.  My average was well over 10mph despite the brutality but I was still on the fence for continuing.

My hand had gotten pretty bad and I wasn't sure I had enough calories on me to make it.  I rarely quit though so I grabbed my bottles, figured there were some aid stations I could stop at for food in a pinch and I thought maybe a person or two would crack (like I was) and maybe I could sweep them up late.  I got back at it but things went south quick.  There was a short fast, somewhat smoother section at the beginning of the lap but after that you hit the biggest climb of the day and then right into the high speed rough stuff.  I forget exactly where it was. probably coming down off the climb...my lines were getting sloppier and my upper body was worked and tired.  My arms were locking out here and there cause I was getting lazy and at some point I took a less than ideal line and took a solid shot that went straight through my wrist directly up to my shoulder and shocked me pretty bad.

I almost yelped it was that good.  This changed my entire mindset.  I knew I was in for much more of the same if not worse.  My hand was starting to hurt pretty bad and I was sure I'd be paying the price for days to come after that jolt.  I started getting real tentative in the rough stuff which only made it worse.  I was the one getting swept up.  I got passed by two SSers in the span of a mile or two.  I was shutting down mentally and physically.  I was starting to think of sections that were still coming up and how much worse they were than what I was currently on and getting destroyed by.  I started thinking about recovery time and how much more fun the Bradbury course is for a rigid rider and I made the rare call to pack it in.

I just really wasn't enjoying myself at all anymore and I'd like to be healthy and fresh for Bradbury so I pulled off the trail onto the access road when the opportunity presented itself and I soft pedaled back to the venue.  Wasn't overly pumped about it but I think I probably made the right call.

This was a great race though.  Great organization of the venue, staff had things dialed, course was laid out intelligently.  HUGE turnout, probably biggest I've ever seen personally.  Bigger than Willowdale for sure, which is tough.  I might do it again.  But you can be damn sure I'll be on the Party Bike.

British Bitter

Oy! Fancy a pint at the pub GOVNAH? No? Are you takin the piss?

Ok thats about the extent of my English...back to 'American'.  Yeah for those that didn't know, we actually speak American.  If you are overseas most Brits will yell at you to speak 'English', I've found that the best response is to try your best South London / cockney accent and let em have it.  Just make sure they aren't a Royal Marine first.

While it is fun to rib our allies on the Isles about our linguistic differences, one thing we can agree on I think is beer.  And that its good.  I've done a few UK brews over the years.  Its hard not to, they lay claim to so many distinct styles.  I've done some Scottish Wee Heavies, Irish Stout's & Reds but never a straight British Pub Ale.

My priorities have drifted away from home brewing lately.  Not really sure why, just one of those things that happens.  The outcry for me to get back into it has slowly grown over the last few months until it reached a point where it definitely felt silly constantly answering that I wasn't sure what or when I was going to brew next.  Figured I should start with something simple.  Remind myself how easy of a process it is.  Get something ready for Squamtoberfest in mid-October which was always the norm.  What better way to get back into brewing than the bedrock of most Brit's diets?  Simple to brew, simple to drink.

This will be a bit lower gravity but perfect after a Fall mountain bike shred or paired up with some Brandy and cider while chowing down on standard Fall eats.  Before too long I'm also going to be getting a Rye Stout going for late Fall / Winter that I'm pretty excited about.  Kinda digging on Rye right now.

Also going to be some homegrown / homemade apple sauce as well as our pickles, pickled beans, pickled kielbasa and even some pickled zucchini this year at Squamtoberfest.  Bring the whole family!

NH100 2013 - One Man's Journey to 'Hardcore' Status

You've read one of my NH100 recaps you've just about read them all.  So I'm not gonna recap this years edition all that much.  Instead we're going to go back through time to see just how far I've come.  We'll start our journey in 2009...

2009 - My first go at the NH100.  It was in its 3rd year, Adam had done it the year before.  Seemed like a good challenge and I thought I was ready to step up.  This was not correct.  I had been racing SS in the EFTA series at this point but didn't think I was ready for SS at this distance so I built my Kona up as a 1x9.  This edition broke me.  90+ degree heat, I didn't know the course and learned about the easy first half and brutal second half the hard way.  Took me almost 9hrs to finish.  Reading back over the recap now is funny to see me describing climbs etc. for the first time that I now know oh so well.

2010 - The fact that I even showed up this year after getting so thoroughly shattered the year prior is a testament to the severe chemical imbalance I have that allows me to enjoy such horrible experiences on a bike.  Still didn't really think I was ready for SS at this distance and my Kona had become my SS bike so I raced the dumbest bike ever built.  A 33lb rigid 69er with dirt drops.  WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?! This was when I started to realize that I can't really ride geared bikes anymore.  I claimed the descents hurt more than the climbs and just barely broke the 8hr barrier.

2011 - NEMBA Racing is off and running and I'm racing quite a bit more.  I finally decide I'm ready to race the 100 on a SS.  I'm getting more acquainted with the course and what my body does under these kinds of efforts.  Feels a bit more like racing.  I stop to pee and lose the wheel of a guy that eventually beats me and I vow to piss myself the next year if I have to.  Part way through the race I realize the 7hr mark might be attainable.  I go for broke and come up short crossing the line at 7h16m.  But the seed has been planted and the 7hr mark becomes the new goal.

2012 - This was a pretty good year for racing bikes.  I had come off 8 weeks with a personal trainer in the Spring and my fitness / high end were probably the best they had ever been.  I was hoping for a strong showing and I was well on my way...until my cleat fell off.  This was the first year they added the 100mi option as part of the NUE series.  Lots of racers this year and the production value of the event went way up.  This was the year of the pit crew aid stations.  I was in the middle of a solid effort, yo-yo'ing with another rider for 5th/6th position.  Around mile 47 my left cleat went AWOL.  I checked out mentally and tried to just keep moving as best I could to get back home.  Before too long I realized I was still moving along decently.  I also eventually noticed that despite my handicap it looked like the 7hr mark could still be in play.  I went for broke again, doing my best to tear my own legs off and just made it in under at 6hr58m.

And here we are in 2013.  After having technically fulfilled my 7hr goal I didn't really have anything concrete to shoot for this year.  I figured that was better because really with a finish required to be inducted into the Hampshire Hardcores that had to be the priority.  Just get across the line.  But at this point just getting across the line is technically easy and I don't like easy I like horrible suffering so I decided since I had put up two times of 6h37m at my two previous 100K races this year that breaking 6h30m would be the new goal.  This year was actually pretty damn uneventful.  I know this course and my body at this distance so well now that everything was managed fairly well.  Except for that really dark place I went from about mile 50 to 55 today.  I was actually on a just under 6hr pace coming up to that point but I think I had been pushing my limits a bit more than I usually do at this race and paid for it a bit.  Luckily things came back around and I was able to finish strong.  Coming through the final singletrack I could tell the timing was going to be very close and I was looking at a repeat of last year having to put the head down and hurt as much as possible.  Coming into the campground I was spinning like crazy, my legs were starting to go numb, lungs were on fire.  But I got it, by 30secs.

So there you have it.  Went from 9hrs on a 9sp to 6.5hrs on a rigid SS in 5 years.  I'm pretty proud of that.  My entrance back into racing was pretty rough for a pretty long time.  Racked up lots of DFL's but I've seen it through and now I have a moisture wicking shirt and none of my joints work right.  TOTALLY WORTH IT.

4NaaP plus 2F, TRT, CrK

Ah the beloved 4 Notches and a Pass ride (ie 4NaaP).  This time we did it in the correct direction because I didn't plan it.  But I was in attendance so it was still full of debauchery.  I've had a pretty solid string of drama riding in the Whites, be it epic conditions/suffering or mechanical debacles.  This ride was no exception.

Bully had us tack onto a regular group from the Merrimack Valley area.  Nice group of guys and no real slouches among them.  I want to say we maybe had 8 guys?  Things started civil enough but as soon as we hit the wall that is Kinsman I knew it was going to be a longish day of yo-yo'ing off the back.  I was never that far off but the pace was just a few watts above where I wanted to be for a 90+ mile ride so I did my own thing.

Descent off Kinsman and the run into Franconia was great.  Really perfect weather for the day.  Almost no traffic, nice reasonable pace.  Then we hit Profile Rd.  That one is just a bit too punchy and steep for me but kept it within myself and topped out just a bit behind most of the group.  I was starting to feel pretty good at this point.  Nice and warmed up and ready for the long haul.  We crossed I-93 and got onto the bike path for a short stretch to get to Rt.3 and then head north to Twin Mountain and Rt. 302.  That's a long slight downhill pretty much the whole way and we were strung out hammering at probably close to 30mph the whole way.

Very nearly got popped off the back just as we were pulling into town but made it to our first feed stop intact.

Little did I know, shortly after this my day would take a turn.  We hit the road heading to Crawford Notch.  Gentle drag with nice wide shoulders heading in that direction.  We were slowly getting back going after the feed stop, double pace line, basically soft pedaling.  I was right on a guys wheel just ticking along and BAM! No clue what I hit but I hit it hard.  I'm assuming a rock of some sort or some other type of solid debris.  Usually it comes in handy to get that stuff pointed out to you by the rider in front seeing as you can't see around him but he must have missed it until last second.

So I got right into what is the ridiculous ritual of trying to get the bead off my Easton Vista wheels (never ever buy Easton Vista's).  Got the tube in and the first stupid issue I had was a too short valve stem.  I must have grabbed a tube that came from my commuter stash because the valve wasn't long enough to extend past my deep(ish) rims on the road bike.  Luckily somebody had a valve extender that we were able to get to work and dodged that particular bullet.

Second issue was I didn't inspect the rim or tire well enough and about 2-300yds after rolling back out I hear the tell tale sound of the rear going flat again (thats the 2F, 2 Flats).  My drive for the day dissipated pretty quickly at this point.  I was REALLY far from the car and looking at having to steal a tube and closely inspect the tire to try and find debris and then more than likely limp home if possible.  As is the norm Carl is my savior in these situations.  I stole his tube and we made a plan for me to continue on if I could on the planned route and the group would continue on and he would back track in his truck / SAG wagon and pick me up.  Just like old times!

 I was able to find where the second tube went flat and inspected the wheel/tire in that area and low and behold a pretty nice sized dent/burr on the rim where the rock had made contact as well as a slight tear in the tire itself (TRT, taco'd rim / tire).  I'm guessing the second tube snuck out that tear just a bit touched the road and tore.  Luckily I keep a small role of electrical tape in my saddle bag and I had some wrappers from food as well.  Booted the burr and the tire with tape and wrappers and used my last CO2 with my fingers crossed.

tape boot for the rim

gash in the tire

It inflated and held so I started making my way gingerly heading straight at an enormous descent down Crawford.  I was not too pumped to have to fly down a 12-13% headwall with an iffy rear wheel.  I kept the speed down as much as I could and everything was holding.  This section is another very long gentle downhill for probably close to 14mi.  I knew they would be flying but I figured I could probably get going at a decent pace as well and if they regrouped in Bartlett I might have a chance of catching them.  Part of my brain was thinking "Hey if I don't catch them I'm getting a SAG wagon ride anyway so a big effort is no big deal."  Unfortunately my brain didn't spend enough time on the inverse of "Hey, what happens if you put in this huge dig and actually catch them and then have to ride all of Bear Notch AND the Kanc?"

I settled on "Whatevah" and got to it.  Low and behold I turned onto Bear Notch and shortly after heard a group coming up behind with Carl yelling "He's back from the dead!"  Turns out I had just rolled through as their regroup was wrapping up.  So now I was back in the ride, no SAG wagon, and pretty tired.  Whoops.  Usually Bear Notch would be a great climb for me but I was out of gas and had to keep things reasonable with the Kanc looming.

I am currently working very hard to purge the rest of the ride from my memory but lets just say as soon as the road ticked up at the bottom of the Kanc my legs informed me that they were cooked and cramps were imminent (CrK, cramp the Kanc).  I was out of electrolyte pills, and rationing fluids at this point.  The next 7-8mi were rough, lets just leave it at that.  Topped out and had a nice lazy drag back down into Lincoln.  TRAINED.

The High Five Ride

Because sometimes you just have to high five someone who lives 80+ miles away without using gasoline at all.

This idea originally spawned in the Fall of last year when Strava did some weird challenge promoted by BMC that required a 79 mile ride in the span of 24hrs to commemorate some 79th anniversary of something.  I actually looked into trying to do this one because it was the first one ever that was actually attainable by mere mortals with full time jobs.

In my search for a route that would work I randomly realized that it was almost exactly 40mi to the Maine border from one of the parks I sometimes start road rides from to avoid the dirt of Chemungville.  Ride to Maine and back...seemed like an interesting way to complete the challenge.  Then I figured what the hell Pog is riding a bunch now I wonder how far it is to the border for him.  Well look at that! 40 miles!

The High Five ride was born.  Ride to the border. High five. Turn around and we both get a Strava challenge completed. BOOM.  Long story short we weren't able to pull it off that weekend, I ended up doing another ride to fulfill the challenge with Clint but the idea seemed to good to just let fade away.

So we let it simmer and waited for an opportunity.  Millstone 12 didn't materialize this year and this Saturday opened up.  Pog was available, weather looked good.  LETS DO THIS.

I mapped out a little double out and back with a little loop in the middle.  I don't ride out that way much and I had never been on Rt. 171 through Tuftonboro but it was great.  Unfortunately I didn't get any pics because its one of those roads you can tick right along and once you are in that groove I find it hard to stop.  Cut through Ossipee and over to Freedom, NH and the border.  That section of Rt. 25 is a wide open flat drag.  It was nice heading out but I had a sweet head wind coming back.

We documented things with some pics at the border.  And probably looked very sketchy doing so.  My favorite was holding the high five while the camera's timer went down.  We then refueled at the Freedom Market and went our separate ways.  Me into the wind and Pog onto his first century.  My route was pretty flat all told but the wind made much of the way back feel like a 2% climb.

Got back to the house took a quick shower and then immediately went golfing.  Then immediately went to Common Man Ashland and ate food and drank beer on the patio.  Unfortunately today my wrist doesn't work so I'm reduced to blogging and not much else in hopes of getting back on terms quickly.  I'm hoping that eventually my body will realize that ain't nothing gonna break-a my stride, nobody's gonna slow me down, OH NO. I've got to keep on moving.