dad's killin' it

my dad's been hanging in VT, destroying projects for us, getting his spin on. i had a great ride w/him for the mad river century. perfect day, 75, sunny, nice breeze at our backs for the home stretch. then instead of relaxing at the house, going for rides, he's been crushing projects. i can't be slacking in front of j sr, been doing my best to keep up.

have been in a weird place since the hampshire 100k. been taking it easy, not rest weeks, not riding a ton, but not much rest either, too much to be done; keeping-up w/dad, wood splittin', winter looms kinda stuff. and there's this race i'd like to crush. or 2. so, been trying to ride smart, rest-up, sleep as much as seneca will let us.

my results this season have been sporadic, few and poor. sept opens-up a whole new season of racing, looking fwd to going into it feeling good, fresh. this wknd's GMSR, never done a stage race, rarely a road race, could be just what i need to mix it up. then next wk is millstone grind mtb, my first rigid ss race, just another way to mix it up, who knows, maybe i'll like it.

what i am liking is the bike fitting i got from fit werx in waitsfield, smooth things out, get more power.

Hampshire 100k

yesterday may be one of the most horrible experiences i've had on a bicycle. harry went for it from the gun, winning in strong fashion in 6hrs and 10mins later - sweet!

my race started w/an upset stomach, seneca had the flu last wknd, i've been feeling low all wk but figured it'd pass by sunday. minutes into the race i was nauseous, but figured it was due to a late breakfast and fast initial pace. the legs felt pretty good, but having Harry (Precourt) and Chris (Gagnon) doing most of the early work helped the legs feel good. I was able to drink some fluids early-on, but the stomach was in rough shape. at mile 15-20 i decided i had to eat, just couldn't wait any longer, bonking was in sight. within 15mins of chowing i was all done. by mile 25 i was really cooked. everything just fell apart - power was gone and nausea gave way to full-on yaking. i crawled along for another 20miles hoping things would turn around and they never did. my saving grace was ginger ale at the aid stations, it was the only thing i could keep down, including water. i'd take a sip of water and get sick - i'd have to swirl it around in my mouth to wet the pallet then spit it back out. Ugly day for me. BUT, on a good note, it was a great day in the saddle for Harry - he won in convincing fashion, doing the early work, then pulling away for the win, including patching a flat or two.

the course was a bit rough, not much flow, a lot of fresh cut. i can handle sandy rail-trails if i know i'm gonna get a big singletrack buffet later, but it just wasn't so. maybe i've just been spoiled by the singletrack up here in central/northern vermont... on a good note, the race was very well run, the folks friendly, the camping perfect (and free), and the route marked superbly.

the IF road squad made an appearance w/5 members entering the race. good guys, hadn't met any of them (besides bruno and montello) before... it was their 4th race of the wk - a training ride. i gots respect for those guys.

i need to rest it appears. my body is simply shutting-down when the heart rate gets above resting rate. i'm not sure if it's the flu-bug from seneca or just too much riding and no rest the past few months... my dad is coming-up for a century ride this wknd, then the GMSR the wknd after, my first evah big road race. i hate rest, it feels like i'm getting fat and slow... but should have rested the wk i got back from canada, but like a fool, i rode in the rain everyday - usually for nearly 3hrs - on some pretty tough rolling terrain. fool. a little rest then would probably have been just the thing i needed...

low pressure

the low pressure systems just won't budge, the rains have been persistent, following us up into new brunswick then back home again. a bunch of old friends were up this wknd, good times were had and the sun finally broke free for saturday afternoon (on my riding day off of course). I'm not complaining one bit, was stoked for some sun, it just figures that as dr mike and his lady rolled out mid-day sunday that sky was boiling once again and thunder rumbling all about. riding inside just wasn't gonna happen, not again, too much of that crap the past 10 days. of course, i could take all this rain as a sign and just work on the house, but the racer in me is desperate to turn the "base miles" of the co trail into power and speed. if i thought for one moment this season that i wasn't a real racer anymore, those thoughts are gone, replaced by a desire to do intervals and hill repeats on a quite dirt slope where haggard breathing and blood pounding in my ears is almost like music, a pain symphony. the season is already coming to a close, but there are a cpl more months of good racing to be had and a desire to crank-up the speed is unquenchable. this happens every year at different times. duration gets cut back by 25-50% and it feels really great to open it up.

time to go for the daily spin. of course it's raining again. at least there's a race on the horizon to begin tapering down for - the hampshire 100k this sunday.

it feels like this was soooo long ago, but it's only been 2wks:

Blueberry Ride

Colorado feels like a million miles and a thousand days away as I sit on an old dock jutting into Cassidy Lake, New Brunswick Canada. Its planks, white paint flecked and peeling, sit atop ancient rusting steel dollys, possibly previously used to cart massive trays of food to inmates in some mental institution. It would seem fitting. Now retired and rusting their days away in a small spring fed lake near the Bay of Fundy, serving one last function. Eventually the flecking paint and rust particles will make their way down the 30 miles of creeks and streams into the Bay, exit into the deep ocean, dillute into particles and molecules and possibly someday make their way back onto dry ground as rain drops, maybe even falling on the head of some intrepid traveler on the CO Trail who is probably just a little bit nuts for making the journey.

It's been 3 full days since arriving back from Colorado, our trail experience a tale for another day, when better internet connection allows for pics... the climbs were enormous, the air thin, the weather impeccable, the company most excellent. I learned many things about myself, including a deep fear of high mtn lightning and an unquenchable desire to never eat an odwalla bar again. There are a hearty few out racing the Colorado Trail as I write this, some have even completed their journey, others nearing the end. I cannot follow their progress nor properly post my own experiences due to 1999 internet connection speeds here in the woods of the Atlantic Provinces, but I really don't feel ready to do so. I'm thoroughly enjoying this short vacation from my vacation. My old mtnbike sits alongside the rustic cabin, to be taken for a spin or left to sit in the rain if I wish.

The hills here don't rise tall, but they never stop rolling, rarely a flat. With legs born of a 50+hr wk of Colorado riding I decided to sprint the 65-70k of dirt and highway down to the Bay of Fundy and back. With little food or water on board, I was damn hungry by hour 2, then I saw them. Blueberry bushes. Everywhere. I stopped and chomped like a bear fattening-up for winter. I couldn't get enough until my stomach told my legs to back away from the berries. 2 berry stops later and I was back on Cassidy Lake sipping a cold Labatts and wondering how long the magic legs will last. Maybe until the 50 (the vermont 50 that is); it'd sure be fun to really crush that one. It's been a dream for a log time; but nothing like the feeling of an early morning dream, when wakefullness mixes with sleep, that the CO Trail has left in my being. The high mtn passes, the endless descents, the long sleepless nights of a day's adrenaline mixing w/longing. I plot my return in silent moments, my thoughts returning to the highs, ignorning the lows. I wonder what Andy's doing?