After a good 14 years of mountain biking, I finally earned my wings on a perfect summer day. The car was packed, and I was ready for the thrill of downhill riding at Seven Springs Mountain. As I pulled onto the interstate, I could hear my phone ringing. It was my wife, Maggie. Thinking I forgot something, I quickly picked up the phone. “I forgot to tell you to be careful out there. Don’t forget how much work we have to do on the house this summer. Have fun, but please don’t get hurt.”
I assured her that I would know my boundaries and ride carefully. Then I shrugged it off, not giving it a second thought. I was too busy thinking about how my test bike, the Trek Scratch, was going to handle the descents and drops.
The view at the mountaintop was exactly what I needed. All of my concerns about home renovations dissipated as I took in the scenery and the fresh mountain air. Although it had been a few years since I’ve ridden a long travel bike on a downhill course, I quickly rekindled my fire for this type of riding. It was my first time riding the downhill trails at Seven Springs since we had to put downhill riding on the backburner due to the time/money required for the sport and our home renovations. Maggie and I used to spend countless summer weekends at Snowshoe Mountain riding and racing their downhill trails. I was pleasantly surprised by what a great job Seven Springs did in packing in a lot of great descents for a smaller mountain.
The riding was excellent, and we got in so many runs that I lost track of how many we logged. Our fun day was nearing its end although I felt like I just got there. On what was planned to be one of the last few runs, I careened down the mountain and playfully passed another rider. Feeling great about the fun descent, I pedaled hard on a section of trail that was completely clear of massive boulders or debris. During the entire day, I could hear Maggie’s words, “Please don’t get hurt.” I took it easy on all of the technical drops and descents. I knew my limits and I wasn’t pushing them.
The great irony here is that as I pedaled hard on that clear section, fulfilling my need for speed and my last great rush of the day, I hit my pedal on a fist-sized rock that was firmly imbedded in the ground. That little rock slammed me straight into the ground. All I remember is hearing the pedal hit and me sliding down the trail on my right side watching another rider approach me. I never let go of the handlebars. I saw purple and red stars. Luckily, or maybe not, my helmet hit a tree and prevented me from sliding any further.
My office buddy, Matt came up to me right away to see if I was okay. He helped me wrestle my helmet off since I was winded and was gasping for air. As I was sitting there assessing the damages, I noticed a lightning bolt traveling down my shoulder. I had earned my wings, a broken collarbone. This blog is a tribute to all those riders who have endured summers off during the peak-riding season.
It’s an eye-opener working the Dirt Rag booth at Interbike and having conversations with fans of the mag, or those that just want to express their ideas. Now that we have Bicycle Times too, the array of subjects to discuss and the diversity of people stopping by is pretty mind-blowing to say the least and somewhat overwhelming. In any case it’s great to be surrounded by people that share the same love for cycling as we all do.
On Thursday, six o’clock ticked away, signaling the close of the show for the day. Bikes were retrieved from the bike check and before the dust in the convention center settled, everyone was looking for a way to relax and keep the live atmosphere going into the night.
Dirt Rag’s night began innocently enough. Some of the staff rode back to the house we rented for the week and the rest of us rolled on. A several-mile ride along the backstreets of the strip brought us to the festivities hosted by Kona Bicycles. (Thanks for the food and Dogfish Head, Kona!) Such a great time there, awesome people and a steel drum band kept the good vibe going. That is until the band took a break and offered to explain music theory of the steel drum. A bunch of bikers gathered around, learned something new and took the opportunity to give it a try.
Yep! That’s Maurice working his way around the notes.
There were so many industry activities going on across Vegas that it was nearly impossible to attend each one, so our group split into two. Those going with Maurice, Robert from Two Fish and later Eric, cycled to the Gold Sprints held at the Italian Club. The rest of us, Matt, Andy, our web guy Jeff Lockwood, and myself rode over to the Crits in the parking lot of Mandalay Bay to check out the scene. We were quickly approached by a woman riding a Buddy Bike and encouraged to go for a spin. Setting his beer down, Matt jumped on first and probably scared the life out of his passenger as he veered last-second from the path of bystanders. Unlike other tandems, the rider in the back controls the steering while the front passenger holds onto an immobile handlebar. There’s more to this bike’s story and the life behind it so check out Buddy Bike’s website.
Winter in the northern latitudes is just long enough to make this aging cyclist more than a wee bit cranky. Yes, it is possible to grit one’s teeth and meet winter head-on. In fact, the Dirt Rag staff shared a gunny-sack-full of bright ideas in our Cold Weather Riding blog series: parts 1, 2,3, 4, 5, 6 and 7. But my favorite coping mechanism is the tried and true road trip. Due south.
The joy of riding my new Trek Top Fuel test bike in the Florida sunshine in mid-February is more than ample pay-off for the minor inconvenience of piloting my mini-van for 950 miles. A blend of mental toughness and planning is all it takes.
I wanted to arrive at my Florida campground around noon on Saturday. The Google driving directions estimated 15 hours drive time. For safety’s sake I planned on taking short breaks during refueling stops, catching a four-hour crash at a rest stop from 2-6a.m., and taking one-hour breaks for both dinner and breakfast along the way. A simple math calculation set my departure at 2p.m. Friday afternoon. Despite a bit of rush hour traffic and a front wheel bearing that started to howl along the route, the long drive went according to plan. Fortunately, I found a garage a few miles from my destination that was able to replace the wheel bearing while I waited, and I ended up setting up camp a few hours behind schedule. I’ll take that.
The next morning, after a hearty camp breakfast, I pedaled an easy 20-minute warm up to the mountain bike trailhead at San Felasco Hammock Preserve State Park. On these trails momentum was my friend. The relatively-flat, swoopy-fast, singletrack was a delightful departure from my steep up-down hometown trails. Thanks to the paper maps available in the parking lot (click here for pdf map) and ample on-the-ground markings, I managed to string together a 2+ hour ride with no repeats. I had so much fun on the San Felasco trails that I decided to stick around and ride them for the next two days. I managed a 2.5 hour trail ride the next day and a shorter get-away-day ride on my third day.
Then off to visit the parents in the greater-Daytona area. My legs appreciated a day off the bike hanging with the family, sipping coffee and catching up on emails (not quite 100% vacation) thanks to the WiFi at the Java Jungle, a relaxing coffee shop that’s decorated like a tropical rain forest.
On Thursday I swung by the Orlando airport to pick up Dirt Rag alum Carol Clemens, and we headed to Ocala’s Santos mountain bike trails, in preparation for Saturday’s 12 Hours of Santos race. We had time for a short leg-stretcher ride on Thursday before dark.
On Friday morning we set up our race pit along the course, right next to fellow Pennsylvanian and visitPA.com rider Rob Lichtenwalner and his wife Sarah. It turned out that IF Pro Harlan Price, another PA racer, was also on the scene. Quite a few Pennsylvanius Snowbirdicus sightings to be had.
Carol and I headed out to pre-ride the course and found it to be nine miles of mixed bag. The beginning and ending sections consisted of short stretches in the steep, tight Vortex trails—which sandwiched the flat, fast and furious mid-section of the course, where the speed limit was set by how fast one could rail the corners.
Saturday turned out to be a sunny 60-something degree day—delightful for racing mountain bikes for 6 hours (me) or 12 hours (Carol). I accomplished my goal of riding at a sporty pace until I felt like stopping. I cranked out five laps in five-ish hours of racing, and then my knees started barking on the steep Vortex climbs, and it was time to shut ‘er down for the day. Carol was there defending her 2008 women’s 12-hour crown, but 2009 would not be kind to her. This year Carol had a few crashes on her dual-rigid 29er in the technical sections—which led to a couple mechanicals, which led to lengthy pit stops and a fourth palace finish. Under the circumstance, her 9 laps represented quite an accomplishment. PA racers fared better in the men’s 12-hour solo category, with Harlan Price finishing first followed by Rob Lichtenwalner in second. Speedgoat racer Ernesto Marenchin took third place in the men’s 12-hour solo. Complete race results here.
After a couple days of post-race relaxing at the parents place, including a windy and brisk day at the beach, it was time to point the mini-van north. With Carol, my dad and I tag-teaming the drive back to Pittsburgh, the 15 hour return trip was just a blur.
All Mountain. I think this term has grown on me. It is needed these days to describe the growing number of bikes in between freerider shuttle bikes and cross country trail machines. The Diamondback Mission series is a good example of this new breed of do-it-all-but-race XC type bikes.
Quick run down of the spec on the large tester I’ll be riding into the spring:
* Fork: Fox TALAS RL 150-130-110mm travel
*Rear Shock: Fox RP23
* Wheels: Neau Naim 32h 15mm QR thru-axle front, 10mm QR thru-axle rear,
black SS 14g spokes, WTB Laser Disc Trail rims
* Cranks/BB: Truvativ Hammerschmidt
* Brakes: Avid Elixir CR 185 F/165 R
* Rear D: SRAM X9
* Front D: N/A
* Shifter: SRAM X9 trigger
* Cassette: SRAM PG 970 11-34
* Tires: WTB Prowler MX 2.3 front/Stout 2.3 rear, folding bead
* Headset: FSA
* Seatpost: Easton EA50
* Saddle: WTB Pure V Sport
* Handlebars: Easton Monkey Lite XC 31.8
* Stem: Easton EA50
* Chain: SRAM
The main reason I really wanted to test this bike?
Two gears, no waiting.
One real ride in so far. Bike fits well and seems to want to be ridden over rocks and other terrain features. Quickly. I see some trips to find the bumpy stuff in my future, maybe even a day at the lifts once Seven Springs opens again. A whole lotta bike, looks like I need to step it up to find its limits. Stay tuned.
I’m sure by now most of you are familiar with the Fargo, but it’s basically a 29′er mountain bike with drop handlebars designed for adventure touring. The Fargo begs to be loaded up and paraded around the countryside with little to no regard to the surface condition of your chosen route. Check out Salsa’s Fargo page here.
I’m still in the process of getting my fit sorted out, and getting in tune with the bike, so for the moment I’m going to let the pictures do most of the talking…
Rear dropouts; ride and smile. And, fork with mounts for a rack and fender, and two bottle cages with straps to hold your bottles.
The complete Fargo comes with Salsa’s Bell Lap cyclocross handlebars for multiple hand positions on the long haul.
Finally, a couple of shots from around town:
Snowy, icy, cold ride for my first true off road Fargo experience which consisted of a 24 minute crit with some singletrack before and after the race. The WTB Vulpine Tires handled the conditions much better than I ever would have expected, thought the icy conditions really called for studded tires. Overall I was pretty impressed by the Fargo’s off road ability. Though the handlebars feel much better on road than off, having the bars nice and high certainly helped this bike’s off road prowess.
A couple shots from my commute. There’s quite a collection of graffiti along the way:
Took the long way home from work for this shot.
You’ll see the complete Fargo review in a future Dirt Rag print issue, but I’ll post some additional thoughts along the way, both here in the Dirt Rag Blog and on the Bicycle Times Website.
As I look out my window at icy snow-covered streets, all I can think about are bikes and how much I’d like to be out there riding. I just finished proofing one of the final drafts of our new publication, Bicycle Times, and I’ve got to say, I’m more excited than ever that we’re doing this. Sure, it will mean an almost 60% increase in work for the meager staff of Dirt Rag. Not to mention starting a new business venture while the economy is in the toilet will be challenging to say the least. And let’s not forget the general trend away from print media in favor of online sources. It appears the cards are stacked against us.
Then why am I so excited? Because Bicycle Times will be a magazine (and website) focusing on what I truly love about bicycles; the practicality, the beauty, and the limitless possibilities for adventure on a bike. I don’t think there is another mode of transportation as efficient, versatile, and as fun as the simple pleasure of riding a bike. Walking, running, skateboarding, riding a horse, cross-country skiing, you name it, nothing beats a bike.
The promise of Bicycle Times is that it is inclusive of all, and a celebration of bicycling. It doesn’t matter if you’re a roadie squid, or an urban hipster wearing too-tight jeans on a fixie, or a mom on a bike path riding with her kids, or an electrical engineer on a recumbent (that’s right, they’re included too), or a knuckle-dragging mountain biker on a 6-inch travel rig, or a couple on their tandem touring the U.S. It’s about all bikes and the people who live to ride them.
Looking outside at the single-digit temperature with the snow and ice, I know I haven’t been on my bike as much as I’d like. It doesn’t get me down. It doesn’t make me want to ride on rollers or go to the gym or take a spinning class. It makes me want to get studded tires for my bike.
After a good 14 years of mountain biking, I finally earned my wings on a perfect summer day. The car was packed, and I was ready for the thrill of downhill riding at Seven Springs Mountain. As I pulled onto the interstate, I could hear my phone ringing. It was my wife, Maggie. Thinking I forgot something, I quickly picked up the phone. “I forgot to tell you to be careful out there. Don’t forget how much work we have to do on the house this summer. Have fun, but please don’t get hurt.”
The riding was excellent, and we got in so many runs that I lost track of how many we logged. Our fun day was nearing its end although I felt like I just got there. On what was planned to be one of the last few runs, I careened down the mountain and playfully passed another rider. Feeling great about the fun descent, I pedaled hard on a section of trail that was completely clear of massive boulders or debris. During the entire day, I could hear Maggie’s words, “Please don’t get hurt.” I took it easy on all of the technical drops and descents. I knew my limits and I wasn’t pushing them.
