Marilyn Price, Trips for Kid’s founding director, was recently awarded the Jefferson Award for community service. The Jefferson Award spotlights ordinary people who do extraordinary things without expectation of recognition or reward.

Trips for Kids is a non-profit organization that provides mountain bike outings and environmental education for kids who would not otherwise be exposed to such activities. Under Price’s 21 years of dedicated stewardship, Trip for Kids has grown into a 64-chapter international organization which has served tens of thousands of disadvantaged, young people in the inner-cities. Most participate in mountain bikes rides in nearby parks. In many cases, Trips for Kids also provides young people with the opportunity to learn bike repair and maintenance through earn-a-bike programs. The organization teaches lessons in personal responsibility, achievement and environmental awareness through the simple act of having fun.

More information about Trips for Kids may be found at www.tripsforkids.org. More information about the Jefferson Awards, administered by the American Institute for Public Service, a national foundation that honors community service, may be found at www.jeffersonawards.org.

DNF I drank beer instead

SSWC08 was an amazingly fun time, and I got to enjoy it with some really cool people. We did a lot of riding, partying and traveling out there. Sleep and honest meals were rare, but that didn’t get in the way of fun.

Last week’s course was twenty-one miles of brutal climbing, technical descending, choking dust, rocks, switchbacks, heckling, drinking and fun. Par for the course for an event like this. And nothing I couldn’t handle, even on a bad day.

Yet, I made the decision to bail on ‘racing’ about half way through the race. I have my reasons, and I stand by them. And I had an absolute blast while everyone else finished the race. But when I finally expelled all the red dust from my lungs, had my final beer of the day, and walked away with my consolation prize of a red anodized bottle opener that had “DNF” CNC’d on one side and “The amazing healing power of beer” on the other…well, I felt like a chump for not riding all the miles.

DNS The first step starts with getting out of bed

The Shenandoah 100 is an endurance mountain bike race of…yes, 100 miles. While I’ve done that kind of ride on a road bike, even a single speed road bike, I’ve never reached that kind of mileage on a mountain bike. I knew it would be tough, and that there would be a chance I wouldn’t finish it.

I ride bikes all the time. Being able to finish SSWC08 didn’t require too much specific preparation for me other than properly conditioning my liver in the weeks leading up to the race. But I knew that I’d have to really do some specific training for the Shenandoah 100. I’d need to get at least a few epic rides in this year, get used to a geared, full-suspension bike since I had no confidence in myself to do the race on my single speed and I’d have to generally get my mind into shape for that kind of event.

Well, none of that happened. Despite encouragement from my family, a pep talk of sorts from Justin, and the pending crumbling of my riding goals for the summer…I’ll be in Virginia this weekend working the Dirt Rag booth, volunteering to help out with the race and giving support to Justin and Eric as they race.

DIA I did it all

Despite being down about basically bailing on these last two adventures, I am able to recall my ride across Pennsylvania last year. It was six consecutive days of riding at least 90 miles each day. There were times when I didn’t feel like I’d finish, but I kept going. Day 5 of that adventure was my hardest because of stomach problems and general fatigue. Last night, I went back and read my journal entry from that day:

.: Day 5 :.

Williamsport to Berwick About 95 brutal miles

I woke up and felt relatively ok. The sleep would have been more decent, had I not been so worried and had my stomach issues been under control. But I didn’t get up to use the bathroom at all during the night. That’s a good sign.

Regardless, I REALLY didn’t want to ride today. Both of my pinkie fingers were numb, it was cold out, and I knew today was going to be hot, and there was a lot of climbing coming our way. But at least it was going to be over tomorrow.

I walked past Taylor who was passed out just outside of the bathroom doors. He was sleeping with a half-smirk on his face, and I came close to walking over to him and kicking him in the ribs, to jokingly wake him up and so he could tell me about how he was out having fun with beer and other people, while I nervously tried not to soil my sleeping bag. But I resisted, and kept walking. Later he told me, it would have been funny had I done that. Damn…missed the opportunity.

We had to ride to breakfast at the Williamsport Home, which is about two miles away. Uphill. Chilly. I was not liking it.

We got there, and stood in line for a bit. We were greeted by one of the wheelchair-bound residents. He was absolutely thrilled to have us there. He shook hands and chatted up each and every rider. That was cool, and it took my mind off myself for a bit.

And come to think of it, the last 15 hours has been the only time where I have been completely concerned with myself on this ride. Sure, I’m focused on me and what I’m doing when I’m on the bike. I have to be. But for the most part, I’m thinking of many other people and other things weighing on my mind this week.

Anyway, I got my pancakes, a couple links of sausage, and a few glasses of ice water, and headed to a table near the corner, by myself. Joachim and Christine came over and joined me. I ate more of the pancakes than I thought I would. That’s a good sign. But still…it wasn’t nearly enough food to last me for the day. But it was all I could put down.

I really felt like shit for the first 50 miles of this ride. I didn’t bother trying to keep up with the fast kids. My main concern was to not fall off the bike. Regardless, I think I still did well for someone feeling so bad. My average speed was only about two miles per hour less than on my fast days.

But I was fading. By the time we came to the about the 45th mile, I was expecting to see lunch. Or civilization. Instead, we saw the chalk writing on the road that lunch wouldn’t until mile 58. “Sorry.”

That was all it took to completely deflate me. I needed real food and a real bathroom. I felt myself back off a bit, but I still put my head down and kept spinning. Just slower, continually questioning why were so remote, and why they couldn’t just set up lunch sooner.

Joachim and Christine were well ahead of me by this point. Yet after a few miles, Christine knew I was running on empty. She dispatched Joachim back to help pull me along and to encourage me.

Man, I needed that. This was really the toughest part of the whole week for me. But soon enough, I saw the vans and the signage outside a church.

Lunch.

Water, food, shade, ice and a bathroom.

We sat there for about 45 minutes eating, relaxing, etc. I tried to close my eyes a bit.

Thankfully, this stop was exactly what I needed. I emptied out, and filled back up with all kinds of proper nutrition. I cleaned and lubed the chain on the bike, and we were ready to go.

Heath held back with us for the rest of the ride today. He said that he just wanted to enjoy the ride and take it all in…he wasn’t into stopping for 10 minutes for lunch, and hammering the rest of the ride back.

The three of us had a nice rest of the ride. But there were some killer hills on this half of the day. And it was really hot and humid.

I was sure that our most mountainous day would have been somewhere in Allegheny National Forest. Nope…the ride between Williamsport and Berwick was the toughie.

We could see the next huge hill in the distance. Since I grew up very close to here, I knew that we wouldn’t have to climb that hill. Berwick was on this side of that mountain. And I told everyone riding with me that this was the case.

Well…about five miles later, we were spinning up that hill. Probably the hardest and longest hill of the ride. Whoops…sorry, everyone.

Head down, spinning and focused, we passed a lot of riders heading up this climb. I think it was close to two miles up. When I got to the top, my head was spinning bad. Despite my huge lunch, I downed every bit of food I had on my person. I did about two bottles of water, too.

After about 15 minutes, we pulled it together and headed out. We were close to the finish at this point, so we took it easy.

It’s worth noting here that Pryor, did this climb THREE times. In a truly selfless and helping move, he crested the summit twice and headed back down so he could literally push those that needed it, and yell encouraging words as they struggled up the hill. That was mighty big of him.

We got to the Berwick Middle School and I set my stuff up right away. The cafeteria was nice and cool, so I made the decision to sleep inside tonight. I just wanted nice rest, on this my last night of the ride.

Interesting fact about this school…back when I was a child counselor in 1995, I had a student that I visited in this school. Never thought I’d be sleeping on the floor of the cafeteria one day. I wonder how that kid has fared in life.

I showered and got some stuff together for tomorrow. Today was a good drinking-in-the-truck afternoon as we watched the rest of the ride finished up.

Jenny, a very cool chick from the University of Scranton, is doing this ride with her dad and 18 year old sister. They have been riding their hearts out, and giving 600% each day. While we were sitting in the truck with our afternoon beers, Jenny rolled in before her dad and sister. After a day like that, we all needed a beer. I wasn’t sure if she was 21 yet, but I was sure she needed a beer. So I sheepishly offered, and she accepted.

After everyone finished and showered, we loaded onto busses and headed to the West End Hose Company for all the pasta and meatballs we could eat.

Tonight’s meeting was rather light. Thankfully. We also learned that Bill Moses, a relative neophyte at cycling, has been doing the whole ride with regular running shorts, a t-shirt and sneakers. That’s right…so far, 480 miles without padded shorts or technical gear. This guy has got some serious strength and dedication. Like I said…he’s an inspiration.

We bussed it back to the school. There were some beers left, but they quickly vanished. This evening had a very relaxed vibe to it. Everyone knew tomorrow was the last day, and it was a short day at that.

We needed beer, and Joachim stepped up to the plate. He collected a few dollars and then disappeared. A bit later, he rolled up riding shotgun in a stranger’s car. He got out with a mixed case of Magic Hat. Sweeeeet! It turns out that he asked the school janitor where we could get some beer.

The janitor told him that it was extremely forbidden to drink on school property. Even on a Friday night in the middle of the summer by a bunch of adults riding their bikes across Pennsylvania. Yet, the janitor offered to drive Dave to get beer, with the promise that Dave personally ensured that the beer was drank from cups and that there was not even a hint of a trace that beer had been drunk at the school. The custodian then bought the case of beer.

Damn!

As we sat around and killed the case in about 30 minutes. I taught a new group of people about a certain drinking game where you replace one word in the name of a movie, with the name of one particular female body part. It is quite a juvenile game, but it is a lot of fun. Tonight we had everyone from emergency room doctors to school teachers to graphic artists playing and laughing all night.

Soon enough, I made my way to my prepared area for sleep. Most people were already in the dark cafeteria. I put the iPod on, relaxed for a bit, and then went to sleep.

SRAM Press Camp and Avid Elixir Introduction

At the beginning of August, I was invited to Colorado Springs, CO. by SRAM for an introduction to the Avid Elixir CR hydraulic braking system. On their short list was a tour of SRAM’s 50,000 square foot product development and test facility, followed by a test ride in the nearby Cheyenne Mountains.

Pedaling from my hotel to SRAM’s test facility brought a smile to my face. I was greeted at the long driveway, which leads to the huge bicycle fork marking the building entrance, by a small and sun bleached RockShox sign. That sign appeared to have been there forever and reminded me of my first mountain bike that came spec’d with an early RockShox incarnation. Thirteen years later and I’m rolling up to their front door. Life’s funny.

After brief introductions, coffee and small talk, my bike was taken to be outfitted with a set of Elixir CR brakes. In the mean time, it was time to see the machines that make ideas into prototypes, and meet the people operating them. SRAM’s product development and test facility employs about fifty people and the areas of the building are set up by product. One of the first rooms we passed was full of work stands and tools. I immediately recognized my mountain bike, albeit missing its wheels and some parts. Nearby a set of Elixir CRs were waiting to be installed.

Venturing upstairs, a wall size graffiti-style painting greets visitors with a RockShox image set above a display of suspension forks from years past. Greeting a few people at computers and two dogs resting on the floor we headed to the boardroom, which is really just a circular table. No walls separate SRAM’s thinkers. It’s great for discussions, generating new ideas, and keeping an open environment.

Above one desk area, was a piece of white paper cut to the shape of a rotor. Written on it were the words “Paul’s Ideal Rotor” and it was pinned next to the actual production Avid rotor. The simplicity of communication and the idea made me laugh. On the table sat a component for the Euro-commuting market; a one-piece SRAM hydraulic brake attached to a long 9-speed grip shift. Apparently the Europeans love it. Maybe we’ll see it here someday.

In a huge room once used to manufacture components, are the bicycles of those that commute to work. SRAM’s facility has showers for commuters and employees also keep an extra mountain bike there for the mid-afternoon “test” rides. Shelving units stacked 25’ high create rows of assorted parts. Bins of abused forks exiting the test area line the walls marked with white letters and numbers. The old machines that once manufactured components are all pushed to one side. They wait to be transferred to the new manufacturing facility where they will join other machines and be fired up once again.

In a clean, brightly lit room are the cast and die machines, various drills, presses, metal cutting band saws, a ton of tools, and the all important can of WD40. A cast of a lower fork assembly, its mold, and various other prototype samples were neatly arranged. I didn’t pass up the opportunity to finger some of the goods. It was cool to see how the pieces were altered as they were made, approved upon, and remade until the final production piece is reached. From there the manufacturing process moves to SRAM’s Taiwan factory.

After being shown how the components are made, it was time to see how they are torn apart. We entered a room of mad machines that were administering torture to suspension forks, brake levers, seals, and rotors. Through my safety glasses, one machine looked like it was trying to separate the fork crown from the upper tubes by applying fore and aft force on the axle. Turned out to be the axle fatigue test, measuring the strength of the crown/upper tubes interface. Meters that looked straight out of a science fiction realm with oversized buttons and colorful dials measured and recorded the resulting data.

Across the room, a RockShox Recon awaited the deflection test. It was held by the steer tube and positioned horizontally with the dropout area patiently waiting to be clobbered by an impressive stack of weights. The 22.5kg (49.6lbs) worth of weights were suspended above with a cable and a very large magnet. Interrupt the current and POW! We have impact. The RockShox didn’t break. Flip it over and try the other side. SMASH! It still didn’t break. We moved on, passing another bin of spent forks and a row of new forks designated for testing.

The next machine applied side-to-side force on an Avid rotor at the braking surface to measure rotor fatigue. The cycle time and pressure used are top secret, but I can say it’s way faster and more strength than the human hand can apply. Another test compressed Avid brake levers in a more realistic cycle, but with greater force once again. There’s no industry standard for the lever test, but SRAM’s exceeds the government’s requirements. Other forks were being run through their travel at what seemed to be random compressions and force. Much like the shock would experience on any good trail that involved lots of rocks and a few drops. Seals are tested with coarse dust and spun inside a machine. It wasn’t too exciting.

My favorite test, the performance and thermal test, involved speed and smoldering brake pads, or close to it anyway. A wheel with an Avid rotor spun at a high velocity through a caliper with the pads engaged. I waited as the speed, drag, friction, and heat began to build up. The pads began to fry and smelled well, like burning pads, as smoke dissipated. The rotor began to glow orange and then red. More smoke. Turn down the lights for a real show of a glowing rotor and burn the pads to almost nothing.

We returned to the main room where lunch and my bike were waiting. The new Elixir CR brakes were installed. We ate and were given a lengthy introduction to the Elixir CR line of Avid brakes. Next we headed out to the Cheyenne Mountains for a test ride. How did the brakes perform and what’s the secret to the internal reservoir? Well so far they are performing pretty sweet, but you’ll have to wait for Dirt Rag issue #139 for a full report. In the meantime, click here to check out the photo gallery from my SRAM press camp visit. –Shannon Mominee

The Singlespeed World Championships: Holy cow, that was a whirlwind tour of some sweet spots in Northern California’s riding stash, and a great family reunion of the singlespeed tribe. Jeff Lockwood – web dude emeritus, his large Philly-area posse, and I packed a lot of riding and socializing into three days.

Friday: The City

Our goal for the first day was to make it out of airport hell in time to catch one of the “official” activities for the event, a San Francisco city ride from American Cyclery to the Marin Headlands for a barbecue. I was to meet up with Jeff Jones, who had driven down from Oregon with his family, to borrow a bike (lucky me). Unfortunately a huge concert going on in Golden Gate Park made getting to the shop for the “five o’clock sharp” ride time difficult—fortunately we were on singlespeed time, which translated “sharp” into “within an hour or so.”

Riding with the large and already rowdy crew was sort of like being in a deeper-underground Critical Mass made up of knobby brethren. Locals did jamming duty and some cars honked at the holdup, but they all stopped for us, and the vibe was generally mellow. We had the fashion fixie kids staring at us, and a few even joined in, as we took over the city. We climbed up through the Presidio and to the Golden Gate Bridge through a windy fog. Crossing the bridge was breathtaking, both from the view of the crashing, sun-speckled ocean and shore on one side and the city on the other, and from the fierce wind that threatened to sweep me off the damn thing.

Across the bridge we tore down a swoopy dirt road to a massive concrete structure next to the beach, built to hold big guns aimed at phantom Japanese during WWII. The singlespeed translation of “barbecue” turned out to be more like the junior high variety, with a couple bags of chips, a pack of tofu dogs and some hamburger buns, plus flasks and bottles of hooch. No keg though, so the barbecue didn’t last long. That was fine—we hung out for a while with the tribe and then headed out to find some real food. Dave Joachim, the foodie among us, scored a recommendation for a Mexican place that turned out to be perfect, so we ate excellent food and drank even better margaritas, served by the owner Tommy himself. We gave him a round of applause at the end and he thanked us with souvenir placemats.

We made our way to our deluxe accommodations for the night, a hotel that had conflicting signs stating that “We are a tourist hotel” and “There is a $30 charge for each additional guest in your room.”

Saturday: The Country

The morning’s plan was to meet up with a guide, Mark Riedy, for a ride at Camp Tamarancho near Fairfax, but he got in too late Friday night to make it. I called our resident expert Charlie Kelly but he was working. So we headed out on our own, on advice that the main loop was easy to find, and despite Charlie’s recent tale of groups getting lost. There were handy maps at the trailhead though that prevented us from missing lunch.

The riding was fantastic and singlespeed-approved—twisty like the most twisted-up stuff in the East, but with only gradual climbs and perfectly sunny and dry weather. There were so many switchbacks I expected to eventually meet myself on the trail. Despite the trail’s natural flow I had a hard time keeping any for myself and was plagued with flats and other annoyances. But any day out on the trail is a good day.

Charlie was able to join us back in Fairfax for a large and late lunch featuring beer. Riding through that town was like a biker’s dream—everybody in cars slowed down and/or stopped for us, often with a smile and a wave, even in our more haphazard moments that would have earned honks and finger gestures elsewhere. The restaurant where we ate had more bikes than cars parked out front.

Happily tired and disorganized, we patronized the local shops, New Paradigm Cycles and Sunshine Bicycles, and a grocery store to get last minute supplies for the race. Somehow this all took several hours, and the guys at New Paradigm were nice enough to open their doors past closing time for the second invasion of the day by our mob. Turns out they’re Rush fans too—if you’re ever in the area on a Friday, be sure to go there for an all-Rush retail music experience.

We finally made the drive up to Napa to set up camp just before dark. I was bummed to be missing out on an invitation to join Charlie’s weekly jam session back at his band’s practice space, but as that was located some distance away, the logistics were against me.

The town of Napa is pretty yuppified, being in the heart of wine country, and we were more of a beer sort of crowd, but we found the brewpub that served as the site of singlespeeder congregation (aided by the pile of bikes stacked high out front) and proceeded to show the locals how it’s done. We got some help drinking the extra pitchers of beer we accidentally ordered from Peter Keiller of Misfit Psycles. On the way back to the car Justin Kline of Princeton Tec did some dirty dancing in front of a crowded restaurant window.

Topher Valenti and Keith Ridenour of Bikesport, determined to race for real, tried to go to bed early but were dragged out of their tents by drunken hooligans well past midnight. I think Mike “The Dutch Hammer” Yarnall got rolled in his bivvy sack at some point. As designated driver, I earned myself a pair of earplugs and a relatively early bedtime of around 1 a.m.

Sunday Sunday Sunday: Race Day

(Curtis Inglis: esteemed host, announcer, and lederhosen model.)

We woke up to an uncharacteristically cool and overcast sky, but knew that it wasn’t to last, this being sun country. I decided to join Lockwood and Dave for a trip into town for some real breakfast and a mission to get a new spoke put on to Dave’s rear wheel. Somehow we didn’t leave until about 9—the race start was at 10—and found ourselves staring at a clock on the wall of an upscale bakery while willing the cook to assemble our egg sandwiches faster, dammit. We raced back to the venue, got there just at 10, and had to hold up the course tape to get the car back to our campsite. But ah, singlespeed time saved us again, and we had a chance to get changed and digest some before lining up.

The course was wonderfully brutal. Hot and dusty, with some hike-a-bike climbs, some steep rocky descents, and the scariest switchbacks I’d ever seen. They had warned us on the official blog to only ride rigid if you wanted to beat yourself up, but fortunately the sweet Jones Spaceframe I rode doesn’t quite classify as rigid. (I did wish at times I had Jeff’s Fat Front Fork with an Endomorph though, as did Biff of The Outcast as well as Jeff himself.) It was kind of intimidating, getting passed on the downhills by mobs of fast folks including the likes of Marla Streb and Carl Decker, but the many hilarious costumes (including the ones worn by Marla and Carl) and the dude with the boombox playing “Too Many Puppies” helped my mental game. Playboy bunnies, mankinis, caped avengers, orange jumpsuits and a pretty pretty princess named Kristin Butcher were all there. The great Jacquie Phelan herself wore a wool three-piece suit and still finished without passing out. Yarnall stepped up to the challenge of sporting a pair of official tighty-whiteys, sans chamois, for all three laps and won a sweet pair of Phil Wood hubs for his effort.

By the third lap the aggro crowds had mostly vanished and I loosened up enough to ride more of the tech spots. I traded places with Biff (only catching up with him when he stopped to chat and sip) and some guy dressed in a Daisy Duke outfit that fetchingly showed off his beer belly. I figured I was closing in on DFL, but was surprised at the finish to be handed a bottle opener with “Finisher #193″ on it. Turns out many racers had dropped out after one or two laps, some due to cramps and mechanicals, some due to beverage and burrito temptation at the start/finish area.

Rachel Lloyd and Mark Weir, fresh off the Santa Cruz Hellride, came in first (chicks) and second (dudes) respectively. Mark was on one of the more unusual bikes: a singlespeed-converted Nomad. At the awards Rachel, standing on her own singlespeed Olympic podium, proceeded to lead the crowd in a somewhat inebriated version of the Star Spangled Banner. Carl Decker, one of the caped avengers, won it for the dudes. Our PA Posse represented quite well:
Topher – 49
Keith – 80
Yarnall – ?? (but he was one of the few, the proud, the Tighty-Whities)
Joachim – 166
Karen – 193
Lockwood and Justin – DBI (Drank Beer Instead)
But of course, as the banners and hecklers alike reminded us, we were all winners.

More SSWC08 photos in this Dirt Rag Gallery.

I’m not really sure where August went, June or July either for that matter, but Justin and I are loading up the van to head south to Virginia for the Shenandoah Mountain 100. Web Guru Jeff Lockwood will be headed down also from the Philadelphia annex of Dirt Rag HQ. As an official Dirt Rag World Tour stop we’ll have some sweet premiums to entice you to subscribe or renew. Tires from Panaracer, inflators from Genuine Innovations and bottles from Platypus. We’ll be around all day Saturday and maybe post race Sunday.

Justin and I will also be racing. I’ve got one 100-miler under my belt and this will be Justin’s first. According to Chris Scott of Shenandoah Mountain Touring, promoter of this race, the Wilderness 101 and the Stoopid 50, the starting grid is completely full. Big group, great riding and the weather looks good. Hope we see you there!

Elevation profile:

There will be some of this:

Some of this at the 5 well stocked aid stations:

Some of this:

And even some of this:

Which will hopefully lead to this:

The San Diego Custom Bicycle Show will bring custom bicycle frame builders to San Diego’s Town and Country Hotel and Convention Center on April 3rd–5th, 2009 to exhibit their handiwork. In addition to the expo, the San Diego Custom Bicycle Show will include seminars for custom frame builders on craftsmanship and design, a get-acquainted dinner party on Friday night, and an after-hours gathering at the workshop of frame painter Joe Bell.

“California is home to some of the finest custom frame builders in the world,” says Brian Baylis, a custom frame builder himself and the Publicity Chairman of the non-profit San Diego Custom Bicycle Show, Inc. “The show will be an opportunity for frame builders to learn more about their craft and also a chance for consumers to meet the frame builders and even order a custom made frame.”

The event is open to the general public, and admission is $10 per day (or $18 for the entire three days). Frame builders may secure a 10′ x 10′ booth space for $450. The price for a bicycle trade booth will be slightly higher.

The San Diego Custom Bicycle Show is a biannual event that will rotate with a custom frame builder’s show in Northern California in 2010. For more details on the 2009 San Diego Custom Bicycle Show visit www.SanDiegoCustomBicycleShow.com.