Its been awhile since I blogged and unfortunately I haven't done a whole lot of riding in that time, hardly anything worth mentioning anyway, except for this one little incident.
Mike and I have been trying to ride at lunch although its somewhat hit and miss with our schedules and the changing to the cold weather has kind of turned me into a wuss. I haven't acclimated yet. Soon I'll be out in negative 10 degree temperatures without a second thought. Its the 35-40 degree temperatures that are hard for me. Its hard to dress for that. You don't want too much clothing or you'll sweat like a pig but the bike jersey and shorts just don't cut it. Even with the base layer, its still pretty cold.
Anyway, it did warm up last week a bit and we decided to go for a few rides down at Two Moon Park. Mike has me lead since I know the trails better. The trails were a little damp from the morning dew that hadn't quite dried out in the shady spots. I decided to take the Mallard Loop because our usual route, the Weeping Wall Trail is a muddy mess right now. We were going at a pretty good speed, talking as we rode. I took a corner and rode onto a wooden bridge to cross the creek. The next thing I know, I feel the intense pain of impact on my right side. One second I was upright, the next, my bike and I were hanging over the edge of the bridge. It happened so fast that I never saw it coming. I guess wet leaves and wooden bridges make a horrible combination.
I let out a loud yell (I hope it was a yell and not a girly scream) and turned back to see Mike skid to a stop right before hitting the bridge. He said, had I not yelled, I'd have a tire up my back. Once I realized I was out of danger, I collapsed on my back onto the bridge to take in the situation. I was hanging over the bridge, holding onto my bike in which I was also entwined and my leg was screaming with pain. I pulled it together, sat up and put one foot on the slippery bridge while trying to pull myself and my bike back up. I had no real footing and the pedal was jammed under the bridge. It took awhile but after slipping and sliding all over the bridge and pushing the bike free, I was finally able to recover and get back on the bike. We avoided the wooden bridges the rest of the day.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Fully Loaded!
This weekend was our stake Boy Scout advancement / merit badge camp at a ranch just past Pryor, MT. Adult leaders were to complete their outdoor training while the boys worked on two merit badges or finished up requirements for their Tenderfoot, Second Class or First Class ranks. I needed to be at the camp but Sarah needed the car to take the kids to soccer Saturday morning and whatever errands she needed to run. I decided, since there were enough leaders going to truck the boys out there, that I would pedal on out the 37 miles to the ranch. Somewhere along the way I got the idea that I would also haul all of my gear out there. I went and bought a rear rack for the bike and borrowed a set of panniers from Chris (who was excited to hear all about my adventures this weekend wishing to don the panniers himself one day). I stayed up late Thursday night loading up the bike, debating over various items, gauging whether the weight was worth hauling it for the weekend. The biggest debate was the tent. At 8-1/2 lbs. I figured I was better off without it knowing I could crash with someone else. I wish I'd weighed all my gear to get an idea of what I was hauling but I'm sure it was over 40lbs, much of which was just the panniers and rack before all of the gear was added. This is what I finally settled with.
I planned to leave early on Friday, attempting to reach the ranch by 5pm. A late running meeting and a few phone calls at work prevented me from leaving until 3:00 pm. It was a race against the clock now. I wanted to get far enough that I wouldn't feel obligated to hop in a vehicle as the other leaders passed so I'd get there at a decent hour but not travel fast enough to burn myself out too early. As I set out the weather really made me question my sanity in this venture. It was windy, really windy, and had been sprinkling all day and even though the forecast called for a clear day in Pryor, there was no sign of it letting up.
I trucked on for the first three miles on a flat while trying to acclimate myself to the extra weight and bulkiness of the bike. Surprisingly, the extra weight wasn't a big issue on the flats. Maintaining a good speed was easy, accelerating was the hard part, especially into the wind. On my three mile flat I turned over 3,000 miles on my road bike, and of coarse, being the nerd I am, I had to snap a picture. This is the only picture of my trip.
After turning up Blue Creek Road (South Billings Blvd.), I fought the cross winds up the 13 mile, 800 foot climb to the top. I am very familiar with this part of the road so the climb was actually pretty easy, even with the extra weight. I just geared down a little further to compensate. After reaching the top, I let loose and coasted down the backside, descending 400 feet in 3 miles. The easy part of the ride was now over and to my surprise, I was still ahead of the other leaders in their trucks.
The second half of the ride is the most grueling part of the ride. Already weary from the first 18 miles, I had to battle the tedious 18 mile, 600 foot climb ahead of me. The climb is just shallow enough to be deceiving. At points, it looks as if you are not climbing but your legs tell you otherwise. Your head says you should be going faster while your legs scream for a break. Having done the ride previously, I decided to listen to my legs instead and took the climb at a more comfortable pace. Traffic started picking up several miles into this climb as the masses of boy scouts and leaders were flocking to the ranch. My troop soon passed me with cheers of encouragement while the leaders most undoubtedly rolled their eyes thinking they'd be part of the search party later that night.
The tedium of the monotonous climb, pounding crosswinds and drizzling rain locked me into a trance. I counted miles, doing fractions in my head to keep my mind active. 1/12 done, 1/10 done, 1/8, 1/4, 1/3, 1/2! Half way there! 2/3 of the way. 3/4! Alright. Suddenly out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. Something that snapped me back into reality and then a panic. Two bulky rottweilers were tearing down the drive right at me. I looked down at my bike computer, 12 mph. Nowhere near fast enough. I jumped out of my saddle, mashing down hard on the pedals. I could feel my bike flexing with the load on the back swaying back and forth. Huffing and puffing now, I finally reached 20 mph, not fast enough but all I could sustain. The dogs were on both ankles now, keeping pace with me. I sat back down resigned to the fate of a few dog bites and a bad crash. I watched the dogs closely, ready to react when they finally attacked, but they seemed confused by the circular motion of my feet as they pounded the pedals. Then it happened, as if I'd crossed some unmarked boundary, they both ran out of steam and back off in unison. I didn't dare slow down until I'd left them far behind.
Now I was very close to Pryor, and although exhausted and starving, I found new energy in this slightly familiar landmark. It meant only two more miles to go. Tempted by the roadside diner, I reluctantly passed by, rode through town and stopped at the gas station to call Sarah to let her know that I'd arrived. I'd soon be out of cell service, but I'd made it, or so I thought. The excitement of reaching Pryor quickly wore off as I struggled to finish the last two miles and 200 foot climb of the trek. Relief overcame my tired, windburned and frozen body as I saw the ranch ahead. I eagerly turned onto the dirt drive looking forward to warm clothing and a satisfying dinner. That's when I saw the creek running over the drive. Usually the creek is only a few inches deep and 20 feet wide, but it had swelled to a wide, murky mess, now about 200 feet across. Desire to be done with the ride clouded my judgment as I took off down the road on my skinny tires trying to ford the river. I made it 15 feet before my bike was swallowed up and came to a halt. I slammed my right foot into the freezing water and pushed my bike as far as I could trying to keep my left foot dry. Before I knew it my left foot, still on the pedal, was under water. Realizing that there was nothing left to lose, I dipped both numb and soggy feet into the water and walked the rest of the way through the creek.
A cold, tired, hungry and humbled man rolled into camp as jaws dropped all around me. My boys rushed me with all kinds of questions. I tried to respond the best I could but all I could think about was dry, warm clothes and hot food in my belly. In hindsight, I think I was probably suffering from the onset of exposure. I shivered all night, even with dry pants, socks, shoes, a long-sleeved t-shirt, fleece pullover, and rain jacket. I couldn't shake it until I crawled into my sleeping bag.
Friday night we started our outdoor leadership training as the boys broke off to do patrol activities. The adults formed patrols and selected a patrol mascot and yell. We then gathered for a quick fireside and turned in.
Saturday was still cold and rainy. We ate soggy pancakes and sausage in the rain and then continued our training while the boys worked on merit badges. Our training was a speed dating version of tenderfoot, second class and first class ranks, compressing months of work into three hours. It was all information that we should know anyway and I was actually fun in its own way. We were done by lunch and lunch was well worth all the cold, rain, and exhaustion. Incredible chicken thighs and legs accompanied by some delicious scalloped potatoes, a sweet dutch oven apple dish, scones and an incredible corn pudding. I ate until my gut burst, then threw in a couple scones for good measure. I knew I'd need the carbs for the ride home.
After lunch, we worked with one of our 11 year old scouts on his first class requirements, showing him how to use a compass and other orienteering skills.
It was finally time to pack up and leave. The rain had stopped and it warmed up a little but still no sign of the sun. I caught a ride over the creek which was a great relief. My shoes were moist but not soggy like the night before. I started down the road and quickly got up to a 25 mph pace as I headed toward Pryor. My feet didn't lie to me the day before, there really was a good incline. As I pulled into Pryor, I attempted to stop to call Sarah and let her know I was on my way home. Just then three dogs came barreling down the road towards me. They weren't ferocious dogs like the rottweilers but I still didn't feel like chancing it. I finally stopped at the edge of town to call.
As I pedaled back, making great time, I was passed by several caravans of honking scouts and leaders as they recognized the crazy guy who rode his bike to the campout. I took it as encouragement. Although I was really moving and felt good, I anxiously watched the scenery to my right, watching for an ambush from the rottweilers. Then out of an unfamiliar field I head barking and saw three sheep dogs racing toward me. I was out of reach before they even hit the road. Not long after that I saw to brown flashes flying down the drive ahead of me. Dangit! Those stupid rottweilers got the jump on me. Again, I jumped out of the saddle and mashed hard on the pedals reaching 27mph. They didn't stand a chance. I passed them and was long gone before they had a chance to react. Victory!
After evading the dogs, I was able to enjoy the remainder of my ride. Even the last 3 mile climb to the top of Blue Creek Road wasn't too bad. Then came the fun stuff. A sharp, 400 foot drop in less than one mile with a steep but short climb at the end. I flew down the hill and pushed hard to climb the other side as far as I could without slowing. Huffing and puffing, I finally crested. Slowly I tried to regain a good pace. Psssst! Psssst. Psssst. I felt an odd sensation on my leg as short blasts of air blew by. That was the fastest flat tire I'd ever experienced. 100psi to completely flat in about 3 seconds. I stood on the road for a minute examining the damage and evaluating the best way to turn my fully loaded bike over and fix the flat. I finally got the bike over and took off the tire. To my dismay, the actual tire was slashed and should probably be replaced now. I slapped a patch on the tire and the tube hoping it would carry me the last 10 miles home. As I repaired the tire, two concerned cyclists stopped and offered help. They were relieved to discover I wasn't a touring cyclist from Massachusetts stranded with a bad tire 10 miles outside of Billings and that my wife could easily come to my aide if needed. I guess the panniers gave me the temporary status of a whole different class of cyclist. It felt good.
As I hit the road again, the sun finally plunged under the clouds as it retired for the night. The valley ahead was lit up in amber and gold, quite astonishing giving the drab gray scenery I was in. I finally crossed into the sunlight enjoyed the glowing ball of fire that I hadn't seen for two days but it was short lived as I ducked behind another ridge. Anxious to get back home before dark, I picked up the pace when again Psssst! Psssst. Pssssst. And that air blowing on my leg again, not more than half a mile from the first flat.
I managed to change my tube just as darkness fell around me. I committed to riding in the travel lane rather than the shoulder to avoid more debris and flats. I finally made it home after 7pm, in much better spirits than the day before but anxious for a warm shower and soft bed.
I planned to leave early on Friday, attempting to reach the ranch by 5pm. A late running meeting and a few phone calls at work prevented me from leaving until 3:00 pm. It was a race against the clock now. I wanted to get far enough that I wouldn't feel obligated to hop in a vehicle as the other leaders passed so I'd get there at a decent hour but not travel fast enough to burn myself out too early. As I set out the weather really made me question my sanity in this venture. It was windy, really windy, and had been sprinkling all day and even though the forecast called for a clear day in Pryor, there was no sign of it letting up.
I trucked on for the first three miles on a flat while trying to acclimate myself to the extra weight and bulkiness of the bike. Surprisingly, the extra weight wasn't a big issue on the flats. Maintaining a good speed was easy, accelerating was the hard part, especially into the wind. On my three mile flat I turned over 3,000 miles on my road bike, and of coarse, being the nerd I am, I had to snap a picture. This is the only picture of my trip.
After turning up Blue Creek Road (South Billings Blvd.), I fought the cross winds up the 13 mile, 800 foot climb to the top. I am very familiar with this part of the road so the climb was actually pretty easy, even with the extra weight. I just geared down a little further to compensate. After reaching the top, I let loose and coasted down the backside, descending 400 feet in 3 miles. The easy part of the ride was now over and to my surprise, I was still ahead of the other leaders in their trucks.
The second half of the ride is the most grueling part of the ride. Already weary from the first 18 miles, I had to battle the tedious 18 mile, 600 foot climb ahead of me. The climb is just shallow enough to be deceiving. At points, it looks as if you are not climbing but your legs tell you otherwise. Your head says you should be going faster while your legs scream for a break. Having done the ride previously, I decided to listen to my legs instead and took the climb at a more comfortable pace. Traffic started picking up several miles into this climb as the masses of boy scouts and leaders were flocking to the ranch. My troop soon passed me with cheers of encouragement while the leaders most undoubtedly rolled their eyes thinking they'd be part of the search party later that night.
The tedium of the monotonous climb, pounding crosswinds and drizzling rain locked me into a trance. I counted miles, doing fractions in my head to keep my mind active. 1/12 done, 1/10 done, 1/8, 1/4, 1/3, 1/2! Half way there! 2/3 of the way. 3/4! Alright. Suddenly out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. Something that snapped me back into reality and then a panic. Two bulky rottweilers were tearing down the drive right at me. I looked down at my bike computer, 12 mph. Nowhere near fast enough. I jumped out of my saddle, mashing down hard on the pedals. I could feel my bike flexing with the load on the back swaying back and forth. Huffing and puffing now, I finally reached 20 mph, not fast enough but all I could sustain. The dogs were on both ankles now, keeping pace with me. I sat back down resigned to the fate of a few dog bites and a bad crash. I watched the dogs closely, ready to react when they finally attacked, but they seemed confused by the circular motion of my feet as they pounded the pedals. Then it happened, as if I'd crossed some unmarked boundary, they both ran out of steam and back off in unison. I didn't dare slow down until I'd left them far behind.
Now I was very close to Pryor, and although exhausted and starving, I found new energy in this slightly familiar landmark. It meant only two more miles to go. Tempted by the roadside diner, I reluctantly passed by, rode through town and stopped at the gas station to call Sarah to let her know that I'd arrived. I'd soon be out of cell service, but I'd made it, or so I thought. The excitement of reaching Pryor quickly wore off as I struggled to finish the last two miles and 200 foot climb of the trek. Relief overcame my tired, windburned and frozen body as I saw the ranch ahead. I eagerly turned onto the dirt drive looking forward to warm clothing and a satisfying dinner. That's when I saw the creek running over the drive. Usually the creek is only a few inches deep and 20 feet wide, but it had swelled to a wide, murky mess, now about 200 feet across. Desire to be done with the ride clouded my judgment as I took off down the road on my skinny tires trying to ford the river. I made it 15 feet before my bike was swallowed up and came to a halt. I slammed my right foot into the freezing water and pushed my bike as far as I could trying to keep my left foot dry. Before I knew it my left foot, still on the pedal, was under water. Realizing that there was nothing left to lose, I dipped both numb and soggy feet into the water and walked the rest of the way through the creek.
A cold, tired, hungry and humbled man rolled into camp as jaws dropped all around me. My boys rushed me with all kinds of questions. I tried to respond the best I could but all I could think about was dry, warm clothes and hot food in my belly. In hindsight, I think I was probably suffering from the onset of exposure. I shivered all night, even with dry pants, socks, shoes, a long-sleeved t-shirt, fleece pullover, and rain jacket. I couldn't shake it until I crawled into my sleeping bag.
Friday night we started our outdoor leadership training as the boys broke off to do patrol activities. The adults formed patrols and selected a patrol mascot and yell. We then gathered for a quick fireside and turned in.
Saturday was still cold and rainy. We ate soggy pancakes and sausage in the rain and then continued our training while the boys worked on merit badges. Our training was a speed dating version of tenderfoot, second class and first class ranks, compressing months of work into three hours. It was all information that we should know anyway and I was actually fun in its own way. We were done by lunch and lunch was well worth all the cold, rain, and exhaustion. Incredible chicken thighs and legs accompanied by some delicious scalloped potatoes, a sweet dutch oven apple dish, scones and an incredible corn pudding. I ate until my gut burst, then threw in a couple scones for good measure. I knew I'd need the carbs for the ride home.
After lunch, we worked with one of our 11 year old scouts on his first class requirements, showing him how to use a compass and other orienteering skills.
It was finally time to pack up and leave. The rain had stopped and it warmed up a little but still no sign of the sun. I caught a ride over the creek which was a great relief. My shoes were moist but not soggy like the night before. I started down the road and quickly got up to a 25 mph pace as I headed toward Pryor. My feet didn't lie to me the day before, there really was a good incline. As I pulled into Pryor, I attempted to stop to call Sarah and let her know I was on my way home. Just then three dogs came barreling down the road towards me. They weren't ferocious dogs like the rottweilers but I still didn't feel like chancing it. I finally stopped at the edge of town to call.
As I pedaled back, making great time, I was passed by several caravans of honking scouts and leaders as they recognized the crazy guy who rode his bike to the campout. I took it as encouragement. Although I was really moving and felt good, I anxiously watched the scenery to my right, watching for an ambush from the rottweilers. Then out of an unfamiliar field I head barking and saw three sheep dogs racing toward me. I was out of reach before they even hit the road. Not long after that I saw to brown flashes flying down the drive ahead of me. Dangit! Those stupid rottweilers got the jump on me. Again, I jumped out of the saddle and mashed hard on the pedals reaching 27mph. They didn't stand a chance. I passed them and was long gone before they had a chance to react. Victory!
After evading the dogs, I was able to enjoy the remainder of my ride. Even the last 3 mile climb to the top of Blue Creek Road wasn't too bad. Then came the fun stuff. A sharp, 400 foot drop in less than one mile with a steep but short climb at the end. I flew down the hill and pushed hard to climb the other side as far as I could without slowing. Huffing and puffing, I finally crested. Slowly I tried to regain a good pace. Psssst! Psssst. Psssst. I felt an odd sensation on my leg as short blasts of air blew by. That was the fastest flat tire I'd ever experienced. 100psi to completely flat in about 3 seconds. I stood on the road for a minute examining the damage and evaluating the best way to turn my fully loaded bike over and fix the flat. I finally got the bike over and took off the tire. To my dismay, the actual tire was slashed and should probably be replaced now. I slapped a patch on the tire and the tube hoping it would carry me the last 10 miles home. As I repaired the tire, two concerned cyclists stopped and offered help. They were relieved to discover I wasn't a touring cyclist from Massachusetts stranded with a bad tire 10 miles outside of Billings and that my wife could easily come to my aide if needed. I guess the panniers gave me the temporary status of a whole different class of cyclist. It felt good.
As I hit the road again, the sun finally plunged under the clouds as it retired for the night. The valley ahead was lit up in amber and gold, quite astonishing giving the drab gray scenery I was in. I finally crossed into the sunlight enjoyed the glowing ball of fire that I hadn't seen for two days but it was short lived as I ducked behind another ridge. Anxious to get back home before dark, I picked up the pace when again Psssst! Psssst. Pssssst. And that air blowing on my leg again, not more than half a mile from the first flat.
I managed to change my tube just as darkness fell around me. I committed to riding in the travel lane rather than the shoulder to avoid more debris and flats. I finally made it home after 7pm, in much better spirits than the day before but anxious for a warm shower and soft bed.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Two Moon Park
Well, I've been a bum since the MS ride and have hardly been back on my bike since with the exception of commuting too and from work so I was excited when Mike called me up and asked if I wanted to ride. We decided to meet up last Monday (a week ago) but I forgot to call and confirm it. Feeling guilty, I went out to meet him at 6:00am just in case he showed. Its dark and cold at 6am now and it wasn't really that pleasant. Mike was a no show so I took off by myself and did an easy ride on the bike path. I must have encountered 20 deer on the ride, a few who were determined to take me out. It was a good ride though and I had forgotten how good my road bike feels. I need to use it more often.
Anyway, yesterday Mike and I finally met up for a mountain bike ride through Two Moon Park. It was good to catch up. We did a lot of pedaling in too. I met up with Mike a little earlier than I usually leave so we had 10 extra minutes to goof around. No animals this time but it was still fun. As we left, I warned Mike to shift down for the long climb up the switch backs. He shifted down and easily cranked his way up the hill, however, my chain wouldn't catch leaving me in a higher gear. I had to stand up the whole climb putting down enough force on the pedals to keep the bike moving but not enough to spin out the back tire. My tire slipped at the end of almost every stroke but I was able to push through.
Today I tried to meet up with Mike again but couldn't reach him so I went by myself to Two Moon Park. Another nice ride, and again I left early so I got in a few extra minutes of ride time. I was so pooped by the time that I climbed out of the park that I struggled to keep my pace at 10 mph. It didn't help that I fought a head wind all the way back to the office either.
These last two rides have been good for me. I'm hoping I can dig myself out of this slump and get moving again.
Anyway, yesterday Mike and I finally met up for a mountain bike ride through Two Moon Park. It was good to catch up. We did a lot of pedaling in too. I met up with Mike a little earlier than I usually leave so we had 10 extra minutes to goof around. No animals this time but it was still fun. As we left, I warned Mike to shift down for the long climb up the switch backs. He shifted down and easily cranked his way up the hill, however, my chain wouldn't catch leaving me in a higher gear. I had to stand up the whole climb putting down enough force on the pedals to keep the bike moving but not enough to spin out the back tire. My tire slipped at the end of almost every stroke but I was able to push through.
Today I tried to meet up with Mike again but couldn't reach him so I went by myself to Two Moon Park. Another nice ride, and again I left early so I got in a few extra minutes of ride time. I was so pooped by the time that I climbed out of the park that I struggled to keep my pace at 10 mph. It didn't help that I fought a head wind all the way back to the office either.
These last two rides have been good for me. I'm hoping I can dig myself out of this slump and get moving again.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Riverfest
I found out about a mountain bike race this weekend and although there was very limited information and this weekend has turned out to be brutally cold for September, Chris convinced me to give it a try. The race was called Riverfest and was held at Riverfront Park. I entered in the Mountain Bike Sport Class which was a 7 mile loop around the park (originally supposed to be 2 loops before our Arctic blast rolled in). The girls both had soccer games so Sarah and I had to arm wrestle to see who got to race.
I rolled out the door just after 9am this morning covered head to toe to shield me from the 38 degree temperatures and wind, at least there wasn't rain like yesterday. I rode over to the park and to get a leg up, I rode some of the course knowing it was going to be the sloppiest part of the race. To my surprise, they cut a new trail to bypass the worst part of the mucky mess, something I'd struggled with all summer. Unfortunately this new trail wasn't much better since it was freshly cut, muddy and not compacted. But at least I knew what to expect.
We started the race in a Le Mans start, a short sprint to your bikes and off you go. Not my strongest start because I always have troubles clipping in with my dual sided pedals, the clips always seem to be down and I have to fumble with them to clip in. We started and I was the second to my bike but I quickly dropped to the back of the pack while trying to clip in. I could see the lead pack ahead of me and I huffed and puffed to keep up. I was feeling pretty good about being on the tail end of this lead pack although I could hear others not too far behind. I was huffing and puffing at this point and wondered how long these guys could keep it up. Before long the pack peeled away and I only caught glimpses of them through the trees.
As we crossed the bridge onto Norm's Island, I caught a glimpse of the pack again. They were spreading out. Before long I overtook two people. Everyone else was long gone. Soon I was riding by myself with no sign of anyone ahead or behind me. I eased back on my pace just a bit to something more comfortable but still aggressive. The going was tough with mud caked to my wheels with short respites on paved or graveled trails to fling the mud off. Before long I was in the home stretch with familiar trails, stuff I ride all the time. I knew then, if I had a chance to overtake someone, it was then. I took off into the canopy and approached the split in the trail that I'd seen this morning. I hit the turn hard and too fast! The back wheel slipped and I had to dip a foot. What's worse is that I lost all momentum and had to push myself up the mucky hill and then struggled to clip back in. I knew this mistake cost me but I still pushed it.
After I broke into a clearing, I looked back to see someone on my tail about a hundred yards back. I hit the gas and took off. This part was pavement and knowing that I'm not the strongest road rider, I pushed it hard so he wouldn't overtake me. Up ahead the course split from the pavement and onto the grass with the finish line in the visible distance. I peeked back and couldn't see the other rider. The grass was rough and I bounced so much that I had a hard time focusing on the finish line. I saw someone riding towards me which I thought was weird. As I approached the other rider, I realized we were riding the same direction. I stood up and tried hard to overtake him but didn't have enough distance to do it. I finished about 50 feet and just a few seconds behind him. Bummer, because he took 3rd place overall. I took 4th. (I won't mention how many riders there were overall but the showing was scant). Seeing that Chris took second and I was just seconds behind the third place rider, I feel pretty good about it. Chris took two golds and a silver medal at the Big Sky State Games. I feel pretty good anytime I can keep him in my sights even for a few miles.
See Billings Gazette article for more info including that awesome picture above!
And Video
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Ales For Trails
I was out for a lunch ride the other day and got stopped by a crowd of cyclist filming the promo for the Ales for Trails fundraiser and they asked me to be part of it. I'm the smurf in the dark blue with the red helmet. At least I wasn't wearing bike shorts!
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