creepyfriendly

Holidaze.

A lingering sense of affray can be found during the holiday season. Not in the family households you're used to but rather in the establishments of your local community. Businesses decorating for the xmas season while offspring prance through the streets in costumes less desirable than the previous year. What happened to thanksgiving? Not to be confused with identity theft, holiday identity has been around for years. I'm referring to the folks who are so diverted with the season that they skip one of the most important holidays in North America. Thanksgiving.

Avoiding all cliches and black Friday I'm substantially pleased with our event. Coming from a rather traditional family Amanda and I decided to host Thanksgiving at our bungalow. The LaLonde side came down from the Northwoods as the bros and their female companions made the short jaunt for the occasion. Eight bodies total which is quite an accomplished feat considering that our living quarters could hardly be considered a cottage. Spending time in the basement shop gave you a chance to stretch before taking form in the makeshift eating quarters for some great home cooking thanks to everyone. Once the plates were cleaned we resorted to card games and cruel family jokes that reminisced the possibility of Marko's wrestling career. Yes, I have vhs documentation to prove it.

My appreciation for the family runs deep as does my content with the 2007 cycling season. If it wasn't for my supportive and understanding family I wouldn't be the competitor I am today. Thank you.

After a scratch at the 06 season and the continual thyroid issues I was pretty burnt. I counted my 06 races on one hand while entering the 07 and was skeptical. Would I ever be the same? The season opener at Rock Cut gave me a second and enough confidence to slingshot my name into the competitive WORS series. With a third followed by a second I felt primed for a win. Enter WORS Marathon #1. 40ish miles of fast hardpack doubletrack and minimal singletrack. I remember it like it was yesterday. Hammering, taking initiative, then the rains fell. I fired all cylinders and came up 1 lap short.

Phillips marked the first WORS win for me and the first ss elite win in the series. I was pretty stoked to say the least as I continued the rampage for my next nine races through the Chequamegon forty. I was way too fit for my own good. The 40 definitely marked the highlight of my career with some of the best racers in the country along with a crowd of superfans including family from both sides and closer than close friends.

The 2007 tally stands at 23 races, 11 wins, WORS elite overall, Chequamegon 40 overall, and a ranking of 13th in the US all while aboard a rigid single speed 29er. More than I could have ever asked for and I owe it all to the support of my family. Thanks

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Cyclocross fun:

© Jay Richards

© Pinchflat

Props Marko!

The Man himself.

BBC
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BBB
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BKB

Photo: ©Frank Rowe.

Timeless battle.

What is art? The timeless battle fought by hundreds of millions each year. Without diving to deep into the eternal controversy or touching on the form and content segment I'll present you with three letters. AOM. AOMIII to be exact. Not even his own statement could justify the magnitude of his work. With a quick 20 minute drive between me and the River Arts Center I was off to see Casual luxury. Redefined. Old work assorted with new the AOM brought a sense of correction to the small community of Prairie Du Sac. The overheard conversations of the community were both welcomed and punch-drunk while others used the gathering as justification to drink good beer. New works begged me to barter but my lack of wall space held me down. Interested? Give him a shout, or better yet send him some smoke signals.

With a sense of resolution behind us we loaded up the Bobs into the TBS van and headed north to Minneapolis for the MNstateXchampionships. As the temps dropped the crowds gathered. Kenwood in one corner, hollywoodies spread throughout. At one point I even spotted a BB sporting a BKB metal suit. The atmosphere was unstoppable as the group of B1 racers including the AOMtrain went off. Quickly bottlenecked the AOM was forced to high life hand ups but was soon overcome by a fierce focus. A focus with disregard to after the hunt he was on a mission. A mission to finish the race and stomp everything in his path. Post race AOM was heard mumbling, "What do you call a AOM without any legs?" "Don't matter what you call him, he ain't gonna come."

Going into the A's I was a bit aloof. After a long week at work and a late trip the night before I was running on E. The line showed a great contest. D-money, grand performance, and H-wood were all present amongst a variety of hungary candidates. With an airy start we were off up the washboard road. I plugged a hole with Marko in tow. Sitting pretty we filtered into the lead group and rallied for a lap. A rider between us lost contact and that was it. Separation by lap two. I wasn't fully motivated and it appeared that Marko was in the same boat as our former coworker Paul Ellis (Pellis) drove by us. I sat in but continued to have problems driving the pace.

The gaps between us and the front four stayed the same. We seemed content with the pace as the accordion started. For the first time my mind wouldn't cooperate with the legs as I wrestled with my 42:17. The course was a great mix of the essentials. A long stepped run-up, fenced switchbacks, and a superfan induced barrier section complete with Whiskey hand-ups.

With the encouragement of coach Brent (hate!) and Ryan I inched away from Pellis with an adjoining Marko. With two to go we still had a chance as I powered the steep up before switchbacking towards the creek. I was pretty baked going up the log run-up as the darkness went by. I hopped the barriers for the last time but it was to late, I lost contact. I saw the gap closing and sensed the motivation that Marko had as he closed on third and fourth but the track ran short as I drooled over the line with a flat tyre good enough for sixth.

With the season coming to an end I'm bowing out. Finished, finito, done. It was a good run and I sense my time is up... until next year. Thanks to the folks who completed the CX year for me. H-wood for throwing a great race, K-wood for being proper, Bob Brown for being my hero, Marko for rubbing tyres, Hurl for keeping it metal, Gene-O for the motivation, Twin six for the threads, and all the superfans who contributed to the shenanigans.

Here's to keeping the rubber side down in 07. See you in 08!

JRA.

38:16.

Mild conversations consumed us as we ventured through the UP on our way to the largest 1-day mountain bike race in the US. The small towns that make up the heart of the yooper encouraged high school recollection of days past. We reminisced of our passions for skateboarding which converted to silent sports as we matured and moved on. The fact that we grew up in such a place that is so bleak and unpopulated questioned our purposefulness in life but with the open upbringing we landed on family. As common as it sounds we couldn't have exhausted ourselves to the results we've posted without family not to mention the sponsors. With the proper bedding from the people we love most or the people who love us most we are allowed to travel the path that many have struggled to find.

Pre-ride: Already settled in our Grand Traverse Suite, Marko and I headed out on the Westernly path towards Traverse city from Kalkaska. First impressions shed light on the fact that the race was going to be fast. With rain previously in the forcast the sand of northern Michigan changed its mold in favor of a fast pace. Familiar faces filled the course with folks on the same mission as us. Race and conquer!

Amanda made the trip to Traverse city the day after us via Landon and Fang both who were forced into the sport race due to the age class "WORS" entries. My #1 fan was ready to rock but was I? We got a late start as we settled into the Bob Evans Diner for some pre race omelets and terrible coffee. The ride over to the start was filled with beastly jokes and would you rathers to ease the nerves. Pleasant temps in the mid forties were uncharacteristic from years past as we struggled with our race kit. Knee warmers? Knickers? Long sleeves? After a solid ten mile warm up we settled on ls, ls base, bibs, knee warmers, cap, and booties.

The adrenalin was flowing as the appropriate call ups were made. Ned, Matter, JHK, Simonster, Tristan, and past winners. We were off as I spun into the first 90 degree turn. I popped the far right as spectators backed out of my way. Simonster was full bore as the group funneled into position. Perfect. Fifth wheel into the trail as others jostled for position. I have the first four miles of this course memorized by bump as I filtered into third wheel during the first stint of single track. I hear a gun shot in the distance as my mind wanders. Second gun shot hits closer to home as I regain focus on Ross Schnells wheel. The gaps are forming as I sit in perfect position exiting Smith lake road.

Big ring alley lives up to its name as the Simonson and JHK trade blows off the front. We regroup on the following incline and string during the next section of single track. I'm letting the cardio carnage unfold as the "lung" lassos our group into submission.

In the meantime Ross waves his fallible badge as the group in front of him separates three seconds at speed. I jump at the first opportunity to bridge up and do so with Ned in tow. By this time JHK and Simonson are back at it and show no signs of letting up. I'm spun and by the looks of Matters garmin readout we were consistently reaching high twenties at this point.

I'm feeling pretty good as I suck wheel from mile to mile but sense a breaking point. I was playing the right cards but my competitors were playing theirs better. Simonster pulled us through mile 18 with an enormous group of cheering fans as motivation. Williamsburg Rd or soon after was the breaking point on my race. One relentless attack after another was thrown. Tristan took a flyer and I slowly recovered it as Matter made his move. Gone. A delayed reaction by the group shed light on our condition. Brian was in control and it was going to take a massive move to bring it back as he disappeared up trail. Simonson, JHK, and then Tristan. For a brief moment I was blown. Ned went by and that was all I needed as I kept pace but it was to late. The gap between Ned and I and Tristan was to big. I coasted through the next section of single track and captured a second wind as I watched Tristan dangle off the chase. I can get him as I powered up the wood chip hill beside Ned who was on much more solid ground. I heard an old man chuckle as I went by and couldn't help but smile to myself as we've resorted to pride. Here I am in the middle of the woods beating myself into submission with a guy whose the same age as my dad. Motivation.

There was no hope for the lead as we continued our submission battle up Anitas hill. Me first, then Ned. I dismounted as I had about enough of my 68 inches while Ned did the same. Both cramped and spent we trudged on down the back side of the incline. It's still a blur and I'm sure my delirious mind was still being driven by the bringer of dark as I lost Ned along the way. Good enough for fifth avenue!

Props to the Mullet. With all man crushes aside, Brian is the man. An outstanding competitor and in my opinion has a stronghold on the midwest from year to year. Marko for closing gaps and making moves. The Mockster and Travis Ott for all the Fisher support a guy could ask for. Twix for once again keeping me fresh. Tristan for an outstanding comeback this season. All WORS competitors especially the the super fans who lasted as late as iceman. Scott Cole for being my early days mentor and single track guru and Amanda for putting everything aside for my buffoonery. Results are not given, they are made.

Anyway, back to the pain cave!

Indispensable sequence.

Amongst the stacks of independent numbers there's a sequence. A sequence that breaks my life down to the basics. I remember stumbling upon the harsh realization that I'd never become a mathematician. This realization was met with a large quantity of indifference while struggling with a tavern puzzle. Where I was lacking in numbers I made up for with enigmas. Puzzles or sequences to be exact. I was always ahead of the curve. While I aged puzzles began to fade and numbers began their stronghold. Phone numbers, serial numbers, street numbers, page numbers, age, time, dates...

It was apparent that numbers ruled the world. Today, I'm forced to play the numbers before every race. Gear ratio, tyre size, terrain, even crank length plays a role. I'm far from a mathematician but I can lay out the perfect equation in gear inches. 65-69 seems to be a favorite for the triple crown races. Rarely do I venture above 65 but if I had to it would be at iceman. Weather pending I'm leaning towards the number 68. After-all, Johnny Cash recorded live at Folsom Prison in 68. The 42t doesn't get much action so I'm sure she'll be out to prove something. Time will tell.

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My recovery this time of year is quick. The legs tend to heal up hours instead of days. Efforts are shorter, sleep longer, and stretching enforced. Making up for the lack of ride time with some freethinking new graphics keep the motivation high along with photos of past weeks cx races. Thanks to DjohnnyMac of the Kitten factory and Al Haas of h2d the 07CX album has been updated.

With the season coming to an end I find my creative juices flowing. I'm inspired by just about anything including tattoos. With Amanda's new color, Meghan's new piece, and Marko's completion of his master back piece I'm feeling motivated to sling some new ink. I've been thinking leg for a while. Maybe my own rendition of "he rides". An elongated stain glass piece spanning my right peroneals with bold color and overpowering roses littering the path...

Accouterments.

Contriving the bike build is somewhat of an aggravation. Drop bars to be more specific. My deprecation for the only part of the bicycle that keeps me UCI illegal was apparent the day I threw a leg over my first mtb. Aesthetically, the cross bike deserves a drop. Traditionally, the cross bike deserves a drop. Mentally, the cross bike deserves a "Jitensha" special. Exclusively manufactured under the orders of master wheel builder Hiroshi, this city bar boasts bunny hop extravaganzas.

With Marko winning the Saturday cross event at Kletzsch park the idea of a back to back LaLonde sweep was irresistible. The course at Estabrook park had a great mix of obstacles including seven barriers per lap, an uphill log jump which spit you into a brief single track S turn before spinning some wide open humdrum. Mentally I was prepped but caught off guard at the start. Sleeping is more suitable. I scrambled from my day dream and found common ground through the first triple set. I snaked my way into the top four and took a chance bunny hopping the double while avoiding the remount of my fellow competitors. The hop propelled me through the next set of doubles without a dismount and into the lead. I spun freely as we hit the superfan run up at speed and ended up cleaning it without a dab. The adrenalin took me into the second lap as Mikey drilled it through the triple set. The gap formed and that was it. Mike and I for a couple before I pulled ahead during a set of doubles. I kept it steady for the next five with the differential rarely reaching 20 seconds. Great warm up for next weeks finale!

Overcast.

Riding crows on a leaf covered trail adds a new element to the spin. Weight is distributed awkwardly as the mind fumbles for the map it once knew. Reversing the route proves equally as challenging while the memory tenaciously takes notes to replace the previous. Leaving bread crumbs is useless. This day suited me better than the last.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

Spent some time at the training grounds today. My intentions are well thought out. The adaptation from bike to bike proves more difficult than one would think. In anticipation for Iceman I felt the desire to ride my mtb. More specifically my superfly equipped with a 2X9 drivetrain and rigid fork. It feels effortless to spin a high cadence up the track while I still fumble for the big ring on the flats. The complete setup weighs in at a mere 21.3 with marginal room for reduction. Not only was I experimenting with the drivetrain but I wanted to get out on my new wheels. Bontrager has been working on some interesting new rims that not only assist in tyre performance but can also compete in the weight department without compromising strength. Today I was on the new "duster" rim which tilts the scales at 490g per rim. The 28mm hoops are laced to Sun Ringle dirty fleas while my drive train is supported by Sram. Thanks Russell and Rachael. I felt like a kid at the amusement park. Intentionally shifting just to listen to the crisp click of the XO. Coasting brought a smile to my face as the repetitive tick of the fleas faintly made it's way to my ears. The arteries of this heart compliment the rider but what I'm truly amazed by is the quickness of the superfly. It's more noticeable in and out of turns then on the flats. The reduction of weight helps but in the end comes down to the stiffness. Not the bike I'd choose for an all day adventure but definitely the bike for a lung busting xc race.