So here ya go..... Let it now be known that "I" don't usually ride my MTB during race season unless I am racing it. Yeah, I know..... A self proclaimed MTB rider/racer. The audacity, I know.
My season consists of road miles and a pretty solid schedule of races that send me from one end of the western states to the other and back again. Unfortunately, that leads to not a lot of time to break out the MTB bike and get a ride in. (It surely doesn't help that my race bike is usually in some form of disrepair between races and is put back together in short order just in time to go beat it and me to hell for two hours or so.) Oh the joys!
Long story short, it's off season and I have been trying to get out and spend some time in the dirt. (Enjoying it as well.) So when I finally warded off my "In the rut" tendencies to do my Saturday A.M. training road ride w/ the Redlands boys for the first time in exchange for dirt I decided I better make it hurt.
Gee, lets see.... What's the most asinine thing I can come up with? Well here goes.....
I frequent a route I and everyone that I have been able to drag w/ me refer to as "The Death March." It and itself is enough for a day ride however, as of late Dana Van Stee and I have kind of blown it out a bit and my recent ability to walk normal the following day has tilted the table. A few e-mails later an a rough plan had been laid and the date was set.
The Culprits:
Let's start with my thought process of which there isn't much and what there is left pretty much equates to the mental prowess of a large gorilla for what I can muster. Okay, twenty miles of climbing sucks so fifty aught to be real fun, right?
So here's the low down after all the rambling: Get dropped off in Elsinore (El Cariso Truck Trail,) climb to the Main Divide of the Cleveland National Forest and ride back to Skyline Drive for the descent back into Corona.
The new Victim: (Which I am growing very fond of. Thanks Tony!)
So needless to say, (As if it's difficult to predict the outcome.) there was plenty of pain and suffering so graciously handed to your host and his fellow Sucker. The kind of pain where you actually prey for a mechanical and contemplate ending the ride by riding off the trail into a tree to end the misery. (Note: there are no trees in the CNF, damn.) My foul thoughts were rewarded though when my pedal decided to self destruct and slow the pace to a miserable crawl. Now of course you would think that this would bring the ride/suffering to a close correct? Now any normal individual would take this as a sign from the gods to put your tail between your legs and run as fast as possible to the nearest liquor store to numb the pain w/ the sweet sweet gift of inebriation, no? Not this Idiot, I decided that we would continue at least to Eagle Road. Lessons learned: Pedaling w/ one pedal sucks - Descending w/ one pedal sucks even more.
We ended up 10 to 15 miles shy of out intended route however, good times and suffering were aplenty. We never finished our planned route and a second attempt is already in discussion not that we are in any hurry, trust me. There is always room for more on the second attempt. Any takers?
The Aftermath. Back on the porch w/ the Kasey racing crew:
Random Thought:
I have a strange fear of racers in fancy kits especially skin suits, this I have always vocalized. You would think that I would overcome this through experience and not that this is always valid however, I don't usually see them at the end of the race. The feller above (Terry Watkins) shown in the above post is living proof that your appearance at the start line does very little to predict the outcome of the race. This guy will put a hurt on you and quick as I have learned over last season. He refuses to wear lycra and his choice of racing rig is far removed from what I would describe as a race bike however, He rarely fails to make his way to the podium when the day is over.
