Sweetness Follows-

On Saturday I rolled out of my driveway and pedaled toward the Colorado National Monument knowing I had eaten too many pancakes and that this would be a bad thing in the beginning... but perhaps, on the lower slopes of the final climb of the day they would keep me going. As I ascended the steep switchbacks of the Monument's western entrance the smell of smoldering vehicle brakes singed my nostrils. I made sure not to drift too far out into the road as the tourists filed by in their rental cars and the Glade Park residents charged past in diesels and old pick-ups so beat to hell it is hard to believe they were still capable of hauling the huge tanks of water in their beds up the steep grades. All of the engine noise and the exhaust fumes remind me that this place, on a Saturday morning at least, is no place to "check-out" and allow your thoughts to drift... While it serves its purpose, training on the pavement is not what I live for- It is a means to an end, a necessary evil... or any other number of clichés that have to do with what one must do to get to the good stuff.

Now, I could go on about this 85.5 mile "Queen Stage" training ride, replete with three major climbs and 9,000 vertical feet of elevation gain... About the angry September heat and the evil and repugnant Little Park Road climb with its fist to the jaw steeps and the indifference shown by a sinister ascent after you've already gone up two just prior to it- I could, but I won’t, because the pancakes ended up being just enough and this wasn't my first rodeo, not by a long shot...

This was just a test, a reminder that the pain fades to be replaced by something else- On Little Park Road I did allow my thoughts to drift as I was blinded by my own sweat and I found a cadence that put me on auto pilot. For just a few moments, as I neared the top of the last pitch, I could hear the aspen leaves beneath my tires and the thin, cool, Crested Butte air was filling my lungs and I was in the place where I belong-

The pain fades and for me, at least, I know I am doing this thing right when sweetness follows...

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Some Courage to Find My Weakness - CB Classic: Part One

“I can’t Throw it all away- I need some courage to find my weakness”- The Ramones The Crested Butte Classic transcends definition… Is it a group ride? Is it a race? Is it something more? Frankly, I don’t give a damn what is “is”. For me, the Crested Butte Classic is all of the above and more. There is never a shortage of talent to be found at the Classic and for that reason it is a good place to test myself against the super talented and unabashedly humble athletes from Crested Butte and the Gunnison Valley. More importantly, the trails and the folks that make up the Classic are some of the finest anywhere! The Classic is the brain-child of the uber-friendly and down to earth Dave Ochs. Anyone who toes the line at the Classic is instantly indebted to this “man of the sweet, sweet, single-track.” This year Dave’s birthday coincided with the Classic as well as the first day of fall. He celebrated in style by slaying all three laps of The Classic… In spite of a bro

First Ride...

First ride on the new S-Works Stumpy Hard-tail 29er! Decided to hit Trail #2, Western Rim and Westwater Mesa today. This thing is a weapon! A razor-sharp, single-track slayer! I am still feeling a bit "off" since the Frog Hollow Race (I will be posting a report on that soon) but the bike still felt so damn fast... and light! Great day to be riding even though the temperature was a bit cool at first. The sun did manage to come out for the last part of the ride and warm things up a bit. I had to give myself a little pat on the back for stepping out of my Type-A rider mode and snapping a couple of photos. Hell, I felt weird just putting the camera in my Osprey pack! Tomorrow morning I am riding straight from the house to Lunch Loops to get a ride in before the precipitation begins to fall.

Everybody Hurts- CB Classic: Parts Two and Three (Hey! Parts One-Three will be edited and published in XXC Magazine's January Issue) If you are reading this, you should check them out!

XXCMAG.COM “Let’s test your threshold of pain- Let’s see how long you last”- The Misfits As Brush Creek road climbs away from its namesake drainage, the willows give way to golden grasses and stubborn sagebrush. The narrow road just gets steeper and steeper and there are heartbreakingly few switchbacks to break up the unending ascent. I stuck close to Magelky’s wheel and we passed Jordan Williford. Beyond Magelky, just up the road was Evan Ross spinning along on the ever steepening grade. At the roads high-point we passed through a fence and began to descend toward the Deer Creek single-track. Despite the fact he was just back from an injury, Magelky was riding well and I used the fact I was able to hold his wheel as motivation to keep my pace high. The Deer Creek single-track begins with a gentle, by Crested Butte standards, climb as it meanders along Deer Creek. However, once the trail crosses the shallow stream the gradient averages a gonad crushing twelve per

Ride the Line

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