On the Dirt Rag World Tour, sometimes the opportunity presents itself to participate as well as spectate at an event. When Granny Gear’s 24 Hours of Big Bear came up on the calendar, many of us at the office wanted to do some participating, but we soon realized that somebody would have to man the booth. It’s not all fun and games. Thus it fell to Eric and I to race for Dirt Rag glory as a Duo team, with Andy and Justin doing the racing/booth working combo on a Just for Fun team with the folks from Princeton Tec.

I had wanted to step up my 24-hour racing anyway. Before this race I had done seventeen (yes 17!) 24-hour races, most of them as part of a five-person coed team and a couple with four-person teams. It was time to ratchet up the challenge just on principle. Also I’ve been curious for a while now how I’d do at a longer endurance event, a 100-mile race or something similar, and this fit the bill as an intermediate step.

Only problem was, I hadn’t done much riding. I spent most of April with a sinus infection and most of May with a pinched nerve in my back, so my usual commuting miles had dropped to a new low, and my mountain bikes were only seeing short rides in the local park. I did get in a few good rides in exotic locales thanks to traveling to Sea Otter and other spots for work, but those three or four good rides in two months hardly counted as training. Oh well—this would be a good way to jumpstart the summer season and make up for lost time…hopefully without hurting myself too much.

Oh yes, and there was a particularly hairy deadline the week before the race. Add to that some sleep deprivation in that same week, kicked off by caffeine-containing energy candy that screwed up my sleep schedule in a big way, and I was all set. (Training tip: don’t eat a whole package of Black Cherry flavor Clif Shot Bloks at 8pm, at least until the 24-hour event has actually started.)

The gang here packed up the van and left on Friday to set up the booth and get in on a good camping spot. I decided to go down to Big Bear on Saturday morning, in order to unwind and get ready on Friday. My partner Ron had to take his grandmom to the airport on Saturday morning, from a hundred miles away in Johnstown, so I volunteered to walk the dogs before leaving. While out in the park with the hounds I got a panicked call: the car Ron was to take had a flat tire. Drama and decisions and dirty, sweaty car repair ensued, but Ron made it off with moments to spare and so did I—just enough left at the end of the journey to get out of the car, take my bike off the roof, get dressed, go to the start/finish tent and sign in before Eric came in from the first lap of our effort. Maurice had the best excuse for me: “A wizard is neither early nor late.”

The Big Bear course is a lot of fun. There were some large mud puddles in the first few miles remaining from torrential rains earlier in the week, but they were pretty well rideable, true to Eric’s few rushed words of advice while handing over the baton. The weather was hot and sunny but not as much as back in the ‘Burgh. Adrenaline still pumping from my effort of just getting to the venue, I went out hard and fast, falling in with a couple guys and a gal who all were a hair above me in ability level (perfect strategy for pushing it in a race). The beginning had some great narrow but fast and flowing sections that begged for speed. The last four miles of the course were brutal, though, with rock gardens and climbs and rock garden climbs. The hot and sweaty car-centric morning caught up with me and I began to wobble and flounder. I came back to the start/finish tent totally out of breath and feeling a little shriveled, but with a decent lap time, fast enough that Eric wasn’t there yet to meet me.

Going into the race I hadn’t really thought we’d be competitive, and in fact I made sure it was cool with Eric if I ended up feeling crappy and being a leaky cylinder in our two-cylinder engine. When Bruce, Granny’s tirelessly cheerful announcer, gave me a welcome over the speakers as a “Duo Pro,” I corrected that to “Duo Not-So-Pro.” Mistakes ensued on the next three laps: not eating enough, not using the suspension seatpost I’d brought to soften up my carbon-fiber hardtail race rig early enough, talking on the phone too long and missing a transition. I didn’t even bother to look at the standings until after my fourth lap, sometime around 2 a.m. Lo and behold—holy crap! We were in second place! Behind none other than Dirt Rag’s back-in-the-day Fiend Racer, Gunnar Shogren! Well then, time to pay attention and not lose our 45-minute gap on the third place team.

I had asked Eric if he thought he could handle doubling up on the next laps, to allow me to catch a few Z’s and come out stronger in the morning, and he agreed. One flaw in that strategy (obvious now, of course) is that Eric didn’t have the time between laps to fix things and eat and rest himself. When I dragged myself up at the carefully calculated end of nap-time and went back to the start/finish tent, I found out that Eric had only left on his second lap an hour before, and when we made the transition, the third placers had crept up to within five minutes of us. Hoo boy, the race was on.

By the time I was done with my fifth lap, which seemed like an epic, hours-long battle, the time difference had increased barely a minute. Our competitors had realized what was up by this time and went out after Eric hard, passing him early in his last lap. Unknown to me, while I kept fighting just to keep my eyes open even while chatting with folks in the tent, he battled back on the uphills, and had a slightly panicked look coming in for the switch, apparently moments ahead of our rivals. “Get him on the hills!” was all I heard from his rushed advice.

I went out feeling like a zombie. The initial slightly rocky section felt like it took hours, and I wasn’t sure if the usual rush from negotiating the fun-n-fast course was going to revive me this time. Sure enough, while still within earshot of the tent, I heard the announcer say the number of our rivals, and moments later, a way-too-fresh rider in a blue jersey with the dreaded number zoomed past, doing a couple gratuitous jumps off of rocks just ahead of me. Total dejection ensued. A minute later I spotted Carol out on her last lap, in the lead for the solo women’s race, along with Maurice keeping her company. I said something like, “I just got passed for second place,” and not sure if I was hallucinating, I heard Maurice ask in response what music they should listen to. “Led Zeppelin!” was all I could bring to mind (the last thing we had listened to back at camp).

It was then that I had a change of mental state. I realized I could just go on being defeated already, barely a mile into the last 13-mile lap, or I could hang on, think positively, and hope for a mechanical, bonk, or some other such fate for the rider in blue ahead of me (barring any permanent bodily harm, of course). Eric’s advice came back, and I began to think that perhaps if I just hung on and rode as smoothly as I could, then threw it all out there on the uphills, I could catch him. I began to think of the recent Stanley Cup playoffs, in which our Pittsburgh Penguins had lost a tough battle in the finals against the Detroit Red Wings. What would Gary Roberts do? Give up with almost a whole game left in the series? Hell no.

So I hung on. I concentrated on being smooth—“flow like water, flow like water, flow like water”—since there was still quite a lot of water on the course and joining with it rather than fighting it seemed like the best strategy. I still fell into a mud puddle that was deeper than it looked, but enjoyed the cooling effects rather than getting mad. I survived the nasty, long downhill section without crashing and got another mental boost from that victory. Next were the uphills, and the race series never had a more appropriate name to me, as I made full use of the granny gear to get up without burning out too quickly. I thought I spotted the rival rider in blue and fought up an incline I had walked on all my previous laps, only to find an unknown rider in a jersey of a slightly different shade. It gave me confidence, though, since this same guy had also passed me early in the lap—maybe my rival, too, was running out of gas. All kinds of calculations and scenarios churned through my head and seemed to aid my legs in churning on the cranks.

Sure enough, there he was—trudging up a slope that wasn’t all that steep, head down. I’m not sure if he saw me as I passed, standing on the pedals and fighting to keep traction. I was afraid to look back until I had put a few hundred yards behind the hill and by then he was out of sight. Yeah! A new rush of adrenaline kept me cranking hard up the last remaining hills, which seemed even longer than the other five times up, but for once I was glad for that. I was still afraid he’d catch up with superior skills on the flat but technical ending sections. I had visions of an elbow-flinging duel in the final turn into the tent, one I would surely lose. But no—the tent came into sight and I was in! Second place was ours, and the sweetest second place I’ve ever had.

Thanks to Granny Gear for putting on another great race, and to Team Czech Made for being great rivals.

I went to Maui on vacation a few months back–didn’t even know I was gone-did you? I’ll completely skip all the typical rhetoric about the islands. You’ve seen the pictures, you know it’s a beautiful place. The surf, the sand, the food…

I will put a little nod in here for the little geckos often seen sunning on banana trees simply because most tourists would be ickified by them. I thought they were cool.

I would have to say that being a tourist on the island is a fun thing. I can’t imagine a better vacation if a person just wants to relax and tune out the world. Being a resident of the island is probably not so much fun. Dealing with cranky tourists all day long has got to drive a person crazy. And after talking to some locals, many are working two jobs because cost of living is through the roof. One thing we noticed early on is that most tourists drove rentals like Dodge Magnums and convertible Mustangs, while most of the locals relied on the bike for getting around. Watching traffic, being a part of traffic, this makes perfect sense. Imagine thousands of tourists in rentals cars, with cheesy maps and no idea where they are going on the roads with you. You get the picture? The bike is quick and fast and requires no parallel parking in the crowded Lahaina streets.

There were bike racks on nearly every corner and most were full. And long stretches of the main highways had awesomely large shoulders for the commuters. I have to admit, Maui would be the ideal place to bike to work….as long as you didn’t live on the top of the volcano and worked down on the beach.

Now, I’m sure someone out there on the Islands probably can add to this ramble,(ie, maybe not so nice a commute as I’m thinking) but I’m just going to close with some pretty pictures, courtesy of my personal photographer (husband) Dan.

Thanks for tuning in.

Yesterday’s view of the parking lot at DR headquarters.

This age of nearly $4/gallon gasoline has certainly gotten everyone’s attention. Fortunately some folks are doing more than simply bitching about the high price of fuel. I’m increasingly impressed by the number of people I’m seeing out and about on bicycles whether it’s for fun, transportation, or both.

Now, since you’re reading this blog, I’m going to assume that you’re a cyclist–or at least interested in cycling. Given that statement, I’m going to implore you to give riding your bike to work a shot if you haven’t. Yeah yeah, we’ve heard all the excuses, while some of them are valid, you can do anything you put your mind too.

Alright, I’ll step down off of that soapbox and onto the next. For those of us that are already established bicycle commuters, our civic duty is to help folks who are interested get into the game. Though it may be hard to believe, you may be a (relative) wealth of information. If you know someone who expresses interest in giving bicycle commuting a whirl, do what you can to facilitate. Offer to check out their bike prior to riding in order to make sure they are safe and recommend a tune-up if needed. Help this individual be as prepared as possible for varying weather conditions, make sure they’re safely lit at night, and help them figure out how they’re going to carry all the stuff they’ll need. Speaking of stuff they’ll need, make sure they have a spare tube, pump, necessary tools, and knowledge to change a flat–confidence in fixing a flat tire does wonders. If possible, ride this individual’s commute with them sometime when the clock isn’t ticking. Point out shortcuts and things to watch out for along the way so they’re confident with their route and know how much time to schedule. There are loads more things you can do, but that covers the basics.

As established cyclists we have the unfortunate tendency to coming off as elitist assholes to non-cyclists and those who are new to the sport. The more we can do to help break down these barriers and facilitate cycling transport and culture the better off we’ll all be. So, when you’re out and about say hello and/or give a wave to your fellow cyclists and pedestrians–don’t even think about judging them based on their bicycle or attire. After all–two wheels, one love.

And since riding a bike makes you hungry, and eating is one many wonderful rewards for riding, I’ll include this yummy recipe courtesy of Vegetarian Times Magazine:

CHEESE ENCHILADAS WITH EASY MOLE SAUCE
Serves 8

Cocoa powder and peanut butter make this traditional Mexican sauce a snap. If you can’t find ancho chile powder, use 1/8 to 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper instead.

Mole Sauce
2 Tbs. vegetable oil
2 medium-sized onions, chopped (about 2 cups)
2 cloves garlic, minced (about 2 tsp.)
1/4 cup chili powder
2 Tbs. light brown sugar
3/4 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ancho chile powder
1/8 tsp. ground cloves
1 15.5-oz. can diced tomatoes
3 Tbs. cocoa powder
3 Tbs. peanut butter

Enchiladas*
12 oz. light Monterey Jack cheese, shredded (about 3 cups)
16 8-inch flour tortillas

1. To make Mole Sauce: Heat oil in large pot over medium heat. Add onions, and cook 10 to 12 minutes, stirring occasionally, or until browned. Stir in garlic, chili powder, brown sugar, cinnamon, ancho chile powder and ground cloves, and cook 1 minute, or until fragrant, stirring constantly.
2. Add tomatoes, cocoa, peanut butter and 2 cups water. Season with salt and pepper. Reduce heat to medium-low; cook 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.
3. To make Enchiladas: Preheat oven to 350F. Ladle 3/4 cup Mole Sauce into bottoms of 2 12×8-inch ovenproof baking dishes. Place about 21/2 Tbs. cheese in center of each tortilla. Roll tortilla around cheese, and set seam side down on top of mole sauce, placing 8 filled tortillas in each pan. Top each dish with 11/4 cups mole, and sprinkle each with 1/3 cup cheese. Bake 20 minutes, or until sauce bubbles and cheese melts.

PER SERVING: 462 CAL; 24G PROT; 22.5G TOTAL FAT (8.5G SAT. FAT); 47G CARB; 30MG CHOL; 629MG SOD; 7G FIBER; 8G SUGARS

*Add your favorite veggies, or choice of protein, to the Enchiladas for a more balance dish. I usually add a variety of peppers, portabellas, black beans, and whatever else I’m in the mood for at the time. Oh, and only two cloves of garlic? I’d recommend most of a bulb, which could explain why I’m single.

See the original arcticle here.

When Laird Knight of Granny Gear Productions invented 24-hour mountain bike racing, he aimed to provide a format that engendered the camaraderie that pervades mountain biking culture. Harkening back to the early days of the 24 Hours of Canaan—with virtually the entire field camping side-by-side in a lumpy, muddy field just outside of Davis, WV and sharing the agony and ecstasy of a brutally challenging course—I’d say Mr. Knight got the formula correct from the get go.

At the time of those first Canaan races, tag-team racing was pretty much a foreign concept to mountain bike racers. But the format has proven wildly popular and has grown to the point where, on any given weekend, you can find teams competing in a 6, 12 or 24 hour race somewhere within striking distance.

Why has the tag-team format become so popular? Certainly different racers will have unique responses to that question, but for me it boils down to one simple concept: peer pressure. In a conventional, solo race, the only person I’m accountable to is me. Depending on how I feel on a given day, I might crush it until I feel like puking, or I might throttle back and keep the vital signs well below the red line—and feel not a bit guilty either way, regardless of the outcome. But, throw teammates into the mix, and it’s a whole new ballgame. Peer pressure rears is goading head, and urges one to drop the hammer and push beyond their comfort zone. And there is something magically liberating about those forays beyond the comfort zone.

For instance, in a conventional race I’d never have taken a half-dozen stitches to close a gash in my knee, and then get back on the bike and ride another lap. But that’s exactly what I did a few years ago at the 24 Hours of Snowshoe—on a very ugly course. Perhaps that was not the wisest decision I’ve ever made, but the pressure to not let my teammates down pushed me to keep riding at all costs. It’s all about the team.

Riding through a minor medical situation is just one manifestation of peer pressure at 24-hour races. You can bet that peer pressure is part of the equation any time a racer with aching, lead-filled legs suits up and takes another lap, instead of throwing in the towel. I’d never have crawled out of a warm, dry tent to ride in a rain-storm at Allamuchy at 3:00 a.m. were it not for peer pressure. And god bless those poor, disoriented souls that I’ve seen pushing/riding their bikes on what appears to be their first-ever nighttime lap—now that’s taking one for the team.

The 2008 edition of the 24 Hours of Big Bear is exactly one month away, and I’m already feeling the pressure of being on a team. I’m not one to kill myself with training rides, but with Big Bear approaching, I’ve already penciled a couple “training races” into my calendar, to try and whip my slack ass into some semblance of race-shape for the event. I’ll still be the slowest guy on the 4-man team, but I figure owe it to my teammates to be in peak condition. It’s the peer pressure.

I moved most of my family’s worldly possessions to a new house last weekend. New to me that is, as it was built in 1890. In process of packing up our stuff, I was reminded that I’ve got baggage, baggage of the bag type. Hiking bags, messenger bags, hydration packs, seat bags, panniers handlebar bags, and good old backpacks.

I’ve always been on the look out for the “perfect” bag for various cycling activities, some have come close, but in the end it’s always a compromise.

Take commuting for example. I’ve used an XL Timbuk2 bag for years. I got it made at Interbike in Anaheim in 1995 I think, back when Timbuk2 brought their production line to the show and took orders for custom bags. It is big enough to take just about anything I would want to carry on my back, but when carrying less than giant loads it is overkill and the sheer size of the bag keeps the sweat and body heat from dissipating during the summer. I’ve tried various back packs too, from a super minimalist bag from REI to the rather large Seal Line I tested in issue 133. I like all of them for various reasons, and have kept them in the quiver for certain loads in certain weather.

Same thing with hydration packs. I’ve got a super small 50 oz model (it is really my daughters, but I’ve borrowed it for XC racing), a minimalist bag with little more than a sleeve for the bladder and shoulder straps, and an older Camelbak Hawg for those long days in the saddle. I’m currently riding with a new Ergon bag and getting the fit dialed in. Again, all these bag fill a niche purpose and so I keep them around.

I also have a couple of sets of panniers, a few handlebar bags and various stuff sacks I’ve used for touring. In preparation for my self-supported 400 mile race from Philedelphia to Pittsburgh I’m trying out some bags from Jeff at Carousel Design Works. Jeff made the bags for Jay Petervary’s record setting ride Great Divide Race last year. The bags are designed as a system, using the bike itself to support bags, eliminating the need for racks. Between these options and my Xtracycle I’ve got tons of options for touring, from absolutely minimalist kit for moving fast and light, to slow rolling but supremely comfortable.

I’ve got a ton of other bags floating about, and have given away a fair share also after they failed to meet my needs or expectations. Better than collecting ceramics pigs, right?

It seems like most things there is no magic bullet for bags, much the same as bikes and wheel sizes. If you gotta choose just one type you make the decision based on what option works best for you combination of fitness, skill set, riding style and riding ares(s). I’m glad we’ve all got options these days.

Man! I don’t know what it is with the arrival of spring. Maybe it is just the good feeling of breaking out of an extremely long winter this year, or maybe it’s me getting (gulp) more mature and responsible. Whatever the case I feel energized! I love the sun. I’ve reflected on the past year to see what I’ve done right and wrong and know what I need to do this year.

But for today it felt good to ride my road bike after months of waiting and to dress on the lighter side. Music I’ve heard a thousand times before sounds fresh and I feel like I’ve achieved something new in my own playing, an awareness that has only occurred a few times before.

So, spring is here, life is good and I have a new task ahead of me. Six months ago I added a Weimaraner puppy to my household and now Roman is almost 8-months old and full of energy. He’s a smart pup, got the basic commands down and a few obedience classes under his collar. He loves hiking and running in the woods, listens off-leash as long as I have a pocket full of treats, and is now just about ready to begin mountain biking with me. In issue #111, Karen wrote an article “Singletrack Hounds” and I recently revisited it to check out her suggestions. Come to find out, her article is pretty dead on and she mentions a few things that I’ve read in other places as well.

One thing Karen’s article mentions, is that pups younger than 1-year old shouldn’t be run to hard, because of hip dysplacia and joint development, and I’ve researched the same conclusion as well. So I’m going to start at a soccer field near my house and have him concentrate on following me at a slow pace. The distractions there should be limited, there aren’t any trees for me to run into while coaching him and the perimeter is fenced in. Roman’s endurance and agility level should be alright for short rides while he gets comfortable running next to a bike and following my commands. His pack instinct is already really strong, so I’m sure he will want to stay with me.

The pads on his paws are pretty tough too. Roman’s been hiking with my girlfriend and me since he was 7-weeks old and has progressed from a 10-minute stroll to 2.5 hours of fun. His legs are definitely long and muscular, and his coordination and reaction speed has improved tremendously in the last month. I like to think it’s because of the indoor soccer I play with him using a tennis ball. He likes to cheat a little and bite my feet, so I just tackle him to keep it fair. He’s healthy, well fed and fast! But we are still going to take it slow to moderate.

Once Roman is following my guidance consistently on the soccer field, I’ll take him to the same trails he hikes on and pick the pace up as he matures. I figure a recognizable place will be good for him and I know when and where the most people visit the park, so his introduction to mountain biking on single track will be done on off hours and on trails that are out of the way, for both of our safety. It will also be easier to keep him behind me on the narrow trails and reinforce that I’m the leader of the pack, a necessity in any dog training.

Keep an eye out for updates on Roman’s progression and what I’ve found works and doesn’t work for us. Maybe it will help you and your dog, or future puppy, enjoy the trails together and keep everyone healthy. –Shannon Mominee.