2012

Despite popular opinion, it turns out that the world may not end in 2012. After all of the Mayan prophesy hype, you would have figured someone might have just asked the leader of the Mayan Council of Elders or something. But nah, we had to wait for the good word from NASA.

I have to say, the impending doom and destruction was going to be the perfect excuse to drop out of school and spend the last year of human existence riding bikes and having fun. And after four months of course work and final corrections on my thesis which I will defend this Wednesday morning at 10:30am, dropping out of school is about the only thing I can and want to think about. The fact that we will live to see the year 2013 necessarily requires some creative excuse crafting to explain my quiet exit of academia. Alternatively, I can make a concerted effort to skillfully rework my scheduling and time management as it relates to the school/bike ratio.

Why? Because in 2012, I have goals... and none of them have to do with academia.

I am slowly beginning to piece together my race schedule for next year. As I await date confirmation on the MASS series, 2012 and contemplate which of the Ultra Endurance races I will ride in, I realize that I have one central goal:

Get faster.
The SS women's category There is no SS women's category, but I ride a SS bike. I am often asked why I put myself through such pain and discomfort, and there are a few answers to this question: First, I have only ever ridden a SS mountain bike. I wouldn't know how or when to shift even if I had the option. The second reason relates to my personal finances. When I got my SIR 9 frame, I simply didn't have money to put some sassy deralieur on the bike. The third (and most important but probably not last) reason is because I am a purist - a purist as it relates to look, but also a purist in the emotional state that is achieved through the brutal pain of climbing on this bike.  Jill says it better than I could.

My goal is to hold my own in the women's open category. When I race in the women's category, rarely do I come in last; my goal however, is to finish closer to the front of the pack. Similarly, it would be awfully nice to be able to hold my own in the SS open (read: men) category.

To acheive this, I am in the process of developing a multi-faceted game plan for the winter months.

1. Ride 4 times a week.
Last year, I had the advantage of about 800 miles of riding with 50 pounds of gear during three weeks at the beginning of the season to build strength and stamina. I won't have that opportunity this year, so I am going to have to be a bit more consistent with start training. Winters in Kingston are brutal, so a significant portion of this may take place on a trainer in front of my growing collection of cycling movies.

2. Lift weights.
I hate the gym because it looks like this:

But the gym houses all of the equipment necessary to follow the training plan I am creating thanks to my favorite bedtime reading. Some times at the gym seems more bearable than others. 6am, for example has far more athletes and far fewer image obsessed folks. My goal is to lift twice a week.

3. Do more yoga.
I am a certified yoga instructor, but haven't practiced regularly for about a year and a half. I have watched my body become increasingly inflexible and I have lost some of my upper body strength. By letting this happen, I have increased the potential for injury. None of this is good. Hence: do more yoga.

By the time mid April rolls around and I'm back in PA, I'll hopefully not be too much slower than folks who are fortunate to live in a nicer climate. If all comes through (and I will know later this month) I may also have a charming little house to my name right on Chester County's 50 mile green arrow road bike route. It is in close proximity to a couple of local land trusts with dozens of miles of trails and surrounded by literally thousands of acres of conserved and open land (you can't even imagine the cyclocross potential!). The house is also half a dozen miles from two of my summer employment locations and just down the road from a favorite local drinking hole.  Residing there definitely ought to keep my priorities straight.

In the mean time, I'll just hope that money will fall out of the sky in the form of external funding. Speaking of which, I did (along with a few other folks) get a small grant for a food history project. I have decided that any money made from time spent on that project will go toward my racing funds this summer - or the rebuilding of my front wheel.

And now that I have successfully procrastinated on the grading of final papers, I will attempt to get back to work.

the socialist pig

 Bike trip to The Socialist Pig with Rachel.

and then the winter arrived

Lake Ontario Park is a great place to watch the weather roll in.

As I rode laps around Sunday's cross course, the wind picked up, the waves grew big, the temperature dropped, and then winter arrived.

Yes, for the first time this year, the clouds brought snow. It wasn't much, but it was a solemn reminder of the cold months that lay ahead. 

kingston cross II

Dear Kingston Cross,
Next year it is all business. 

Sincerely,

.h.

kingston cross

The eighth race of the Eastern Ontario Cyclocross Series takes place in Kingston, Ontario at Lake Ontario Park. From what I hear, the crazy course that sweeps up and down a massive terraced hill on the north shore of Lake Ontario is the best race in the series.

Cross is hard, fast, and painful... and unlike anything I've ever experienced before.

My racing experience has mostly involved long days full of epic singletrack where the fist hour is about finding your rhythm and the next five hours are about riding with a handful of other folks in the woods. Cross, by comparison, feels like a rat race.

The field is visible, the crowd is cheering (and I did have a great cheer squad), and there is an expectation to preform. As I thought about the race on my ride home, I realized how much of a learning experience the morning had been: Endurance races and cross races have very little in common. Epic cross performance requires preparation. Proper training probably will not make the races any less painful. And trail running does not constitute cyclocross training.

My legs and (oddly enough) my back feel like lead, but the race was lots of fun. I will do it again - but probably not this season. Thanks to my wonderful cheer squad for making the trip down to the lake to root me on.

I will post pictures when I get them.

two hours and counting

In less than two hours, I will be in my first cyclocross race ever.
I'm under prepared and will most definitely be making a fool of myself... which is fine, as long as those cute trail-building mountain biking boys I met yesterday while running in the woods don't show up.
Time to get dressed and finish my morning cup of coffee. 
Here goes nothing.

merciless darwinism and the c-section baby

I used to be a merciless Darwinist.
It looked something like this:
Evolution is a reality and if you are not strong enough to survive you shouldn't.
The irony was that as an infant with a head far too big to fit through my mother's birth canal, this ideology would have no-doubt rendered me dead.

I'm still a Darwinist.

I idolize the orchid and believe in bio-mimicry something fierce, but thankfully my thoughts have evolved and I have managed to identify some of the many problems associated with the latter half of my former ruthless credo.

I have also come to hope that life can be more than mere survival.

And so began the exceptions....

I have some strong friends in weak places and some solid friends who have been dealt shitty hands. Our fiercely independent swaggers are nothing more than street theater. This is not to say we don't preform well. Many of us would have made good actors. But the truth is our fierce claims of freedom and independence are as misguided as my moments of militant Darwinism. We are all affected. Our  freedom is tied up in the well being and freedom of our global co-inhabitants.  I love my bikes, but somewhere some malnourished child working for 2 dollars a day probably cut the tubes that I'm riding on. Call it interdependece, interconnection, life, or whatever word suits your fancy. 

When I was fourteen my grandmother told me that she never would have moved to New Hampshire if she knew the license plates said, "Live Free or Die".


You're right Gran... it isn't that simple.
And I'm glad you're moving to New York.

cyclocross 101

I spent the better part of Thursday afternoon trying to perfect the art of mounting and dismounting the cross bike that I acquired last fall. I spent many hours watching youtube videos before heading up to Fort Henry's XC running course for a short tutorial from the good man, cyclocross, and geography guru Neal. While not a complete failure, I was most definitely lacking the finesse that I hope to exhibit in a mere two weeks at Kingston's Cross Race.

I'll be back at it this week and if I'm feeling brave, I may give this week's Eastern Ontario Series race in Perth a shot.

canadian cycling culture: an introduction

I spent the better half of Saturday 'racing' at Paul's Dirty Enduro in the Ganaraska Forest somewhere north of the 401 between Kingston and Toronto. Luckily, I had enough foresight to register for the 60k.

The night before was filled with an evening of PopTalk and Yamatanka Sonic Titan
followed by a very well attended Sleuth Bears EP release show. Opting for the 60k (instead of the 100) meant that I didn't start until 11am; however, the race was a few hours away and I had a slow leaking tube to fix. I was out of the house by 7:30, while still managing to sneak in a solid five and a half hours of sleep. Not bad, if I do say so....

Pre-race Prep

Sweeping generalizations about everyone living north of Texas would say that there are few differences between Canada and the United States. I find this to be a generally misinformed statement. Canadians do weird things like eat Poutine and take their shoes off at the door even during huge college parties. They also have a different bike racing culture.

Before I begin to expound of the profound differences between US racing and riding in the North, let me say that as a Geographer, I am well aware of the importance of place. I should specify my comparison of geomorphology to riding in Pennsylvania and South Eastern Ontario; the cultural comparisons? Still trying to figure that one out....

60k Start

• Vast networks of Single Track (read: no fire roads)
  The trails were so extensive that they took attendance before they sent us off AND they sent us with our own maps of the conservation area. I guess getting lost is a serious risk when you ride in 10,400+ acres of woods with 700+ kilometers of trails.
• No rocks
  I was missing rocks for three reasons. First, because there is something strangely familiar about riding over bone-jarring rock gardens for miles on end (have I mentioned I miss Pennsylvania?). Second, the trails were sandy. As it turns out, I far prefer rocks to deep sand. Third, the few rocky sections seemed to pose a challenge to some of the other riders and gave me the opportunity to catch up.
• No Beer

  

  The Finish Line

  
  At an Endurance event where people were camping out? Really? Ontario alcohol control board is a total downer.
• (Almost) no 29ers
  This might have been the weirdest thing all day. Seriously. I could count the number of 29er bikes on one hand. Between all the 26 inch wheels and my pre-race Bikini Kill mix, it felt like the late 90s.
• Extremely Polite
  Funniest moment of my day - this guy pulls up behind me - "let me know when you would like me to pass you". Context reminder - we were in a RACE! Can you imagine? I probably could have said something to the effect of, "sorry sir, but I'd really like to beat you today if you don't mind" and he might have stayed right there for the whole afternoon. Gotta love those polite Canadians. 

It was a sweet event and I'll definitely race Paul's again next year... but I'll come prepared. I'll read up on tire tread, sleep more than five hours, carry a cooler of beer, and bring my own rocks.

determination is a wonderful thing

On a good day, my morning ritual involves a strong cup of coffee and about fifteen minutes reading my favorite bicycle blogger's latest posts.

This morning as I scrolled down the newest feeds on my google reader, up came The Bicycle Story - a blog written by college-friend Josh Cohen, who now resides out in Seattle.  Well written and full of interesting content, I always look forward to Bicycle Stories.

Today's interview was an absolute heart-warmer. Lowell Smoger has made it to Seattle and is headed down the West Coast. It is crazy to think that four months ago he and I were just heading into the Appalachian Mountain Range. It is a good reminder: determination will get you far.

Lowell and I in Lewisberg, WV with the Messmers

bicycle use #56998: herding cattle

I've commuted by bicycle, I've traveled by bicycle, and most recently, I've herded cows on a bicycle.

At Buck Run Farm, the grass-fed beasts travel over 350 acres to the freshest pastures guided by their faithful herdsman. The mob grazing technique employed at the farm is fairly intensive and involves moving the cows daily to new forage in the amount of an acre or less. The cows eat 40% and trample 60% all the while depositing fairly concentrated cow-pies on an acre or less. As far as I understand, this pasture management is thought to be more sustainable because of its ability to increase the biological and microbial activity of the soil and more cost effective by eliminating the need to hay fields.

Sometimes moving cows goes smoothly and sometimes it involved unexpected events.... like last week, when half the herd stormed the neighbor's driveway only to end up in the flower bed. As you might expect, this is not a way to make friends with the local residents.

The farm has a four-wheel drive two-person ATV of sorts - which is generally used in conjunction with someone walking to direct the movement of the herd on the other side. The system is a fine one for predictable days when the cows are well behaved (read: not hungry)- but sometimes (on chaotic days when you're the one walking) one wishes for something a little faster - a horse perhaps to chase the lone steer back to the herd - or better yet - A BICYCLE.

I'm going to step out on a limb here and assert that bicycles are be the most underused herding tool and form of farm transportation out there - at least within the North American context. They are fast enough to catch a cow, quiet enough to sneak up on a cow, and mysterious enough to keep the herd at an arms length and moving in the direction you want them.

Totally practical, definitely my favorite new piece of farm equipment, and depending on what next year brings, maybe just the excuse for another bike.

Half Wit Half

Among the best articles I have read comparing biking to running, is that written by blogger Grizzly Adam (http://grizzlyadam.net/2011/04/bike-vs-run.html). With running cons like short shorts, the close relationship between running and "triathlon weirdness", and sore sore legs, Adam draws the one and only sensible conclusion: mountain biking is a more sensible and overall superior past time. No way around it. Nonetheless, I've been running and I've been trying to like it.

Last winter I couldn't bring myself to ride my bike outside. Kingston, Ontario does a poor job of removing snow, so road biking was out. Mountain biking trails are less-than-accessible from the city's downtown, and I had yet to invest in a pair of studded tires. I didn't have a living situation that was indoor trainer friendly so I tried the gym, but something about riding a trainer indoors to the tune of overly self-aware "bros" overtly gawking at themselves in the mirror didn't really do it for me. I tried running. Meh. It was ok.

Then it was summer.
Then there were dirt trails.
Then I tried running again.

Last Sunday I ran my first half marathon, the Half Wit Half. A trail race near Reading, PA. The 13.1 miles wove through Mount Penn's beautiful single and double track trails. I ran the whole thing next to my sister and half an hour behind one of my oldest friends in the world - in the rain.

post-race
check out those pie muscles in the middle!

And you know what?
It was fun!

Until mile 10 and then my knee hurt. And then Monday my knees hurt and my ankle hurt. And then Tuesday my knees didn't hurt anymore, but my calves and my ankle hurt. And now it is a week later and my ankle is still slightly sore and as a result I'm not racing my bike tomorrow. The Rattling Creek 50. Unfinished business from last year to remain unfinished until next year just to make sure I don't really mess it up.

I think that if I could learn how to run so that it didn't hurt for the following 5 days, I could enjoy running. However, as it stands, not only am I no good at it, but it has prevented me from riding in one of the best long races around. Nonsensical. And speaking of nonsensical behavior, I'm registered for Labor Pains 12 hour running race as part of a team for Labor Day weekend.

101 miles by bike

I am not sure what this says about my personality, but when I decide to do something, I tend towards doing it in the most extreme way possible. I have been known to sleep on my office floor, eat only sardines and gorp, and write compulsively for two weeks straight (I might add it was after a ten month long hiatus - see? not so crazy.... right?!). I have been known to work 16 hour days at three different jobs; and this summer marks the beginning of my venture into the world of endurance sports.

On July 30th, I rode in my very first ultra endurance mountain bike race, the Wilderness 101. The grueling race takes place out near State College over many a mountain.

I arrived in Coburn Park, the campground and start of the race around 2 or 3 in the afternoon the day before the race, parked my car and then got to some last minute bike wrenching. I ran into a couple of folks from PA and NC, headed to Elk Creek Aleworks for some good food and beer with great company, and got the scoop on how to survive the 101 that lay ahead.  They told me what aid stations were the best and what trailer I should drop my supplies in. By 9:30 I was horizontal and attempting (unsuccessfully) to sleep  in the back of my car for the night.

The park woke up around 5:15am and everyone started suiting up for the day ahead. I was so nervous I had hardly slept at all and was feeling pretty groggy. My first mission was to eat - my thought was to allow some time for digestion. After that, I'd get dressed and fill up water bottles.

There are relatively few women that do this race... only twenty or so out of some 350 riders.  Single speed is a pretty big category for men, but it is fairly unusual for women. . Everyone that walked by and noticed my bike said something to the effect of "SS? You're CRAZY!". Their surprise seemed to be rooted at the intersection of my bike choice and gender.... I thought to myself, "there is no way that I am going to finish this race - I've biked 100 miles in a day, but only 50 in the woods, my technical skills aren't great, and I'm not fast... at all". Following the advice of a friend, I kept telling myself, just ride what you can, and if you can't ride it, walk... as fast as your little legs will take you.

I wasn't so concerned about the distance, but I was about the time cut offs. There were aid stations at miles 19, 40, 56, 70, and 90 and time cut offs at 9:00am, 11:30, 2:30, and 6:30. My biggest fear was being cut off after a mere two hours.

We rolled out of the park at 7am as a huge group and headed toward the first climb. It was a few miles up, but my legs were fresh and I was hanging with a big group of geared cyclists - men and women alike. The super fast competitors were already off the front and would be done in about 7 hours. The slowest folks would finish in about 15 hours. The first 20 miles were all fire roads and I rolled in 40 minutes before the cut-off along with a few friends and another woman riding SS. I was feeling good and had a second long climb ahead on a well packed double track trail. I spent the climb chatting with two guys on a tandem (now THAT was crazy) until their derailleur hanger ripped off the bike under the pressure. After making it to the top, I hit the first single-track downhill. I was flying down at about 20 or 25 miles an hour managing to dodge all rocks and some more fearful race competitors who were riding their brakes. I've been trying to work on not being so scared of high speeds.... and it seemed to pay off. I'm not sure what time we rolled into aid station two, but I was still hanging with a big group of cyclists, so I figured I was good for time. I had sent the first of two drop bags to Aid Station 2 so I picked up some food (if you can call carbo-loaded goo food) and continued on my way.

Between aid stations 2 & 3 there was a decent amount of of single track. We would ride up hill for about 4 or 5 miles on fire roads and then bomb down the hills on sketchy loose rocky paths.  Around mile 50, we hit a 6 mile hill and I got off to walk for about 15 minutes in an effort to save my legs for later. I was not alone. Geared riders and SS alike were walking up the steep grade hill. By the time we got to the top of the hill, we were already at aid station 3 and it was only 1:15. Some of the women from the field caught me as I feasted on fig newtons and ice cold flat coca cola. For the first time I thought, "I think I might finish this race!". I ate some more, filled up my water bottles and headed towards the longest section of single track of the course.... the sassafras trail.

Sassafras was interesting. I passed a bunch of riders who were more fearful than I of the rocks... and boy were there ever rocks! I fell once, but managed to make it through pretty much unscathed. The down hill section was one of the most treacherous trails I've ever ridden. It was so steep that my seat was literally on my chest in order to keep my weight back to prevent myself from going over the handle bars. It felt like driving a rear wheel car in the snow without snow tires. It was a little jarring, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was certainly better than the climbing that lay ahead.

At mile 70, the aid station four crew said there were only two hills ahead. My stomach was feeling a little queezy after not having eaten solid food all day, but after 70 miles, what was 30 more? Well, two hills were actually three hills, and I began to emotionally fall apart around mile 85.  I felt like I was going to cry. I tried to cry. I decided the best option was to take my time and intentionally not make the cut-off.  That way I didn't have to decide whether or not to keep going; the aid station 5 folks would cut me and that would be that.

I did everything shy of sitting down to waste time so that I didn't have to make the decision to take a DNF 90 miles in to the 101... and then I met Michelle from Rochester.... We were passing each other repeatedly from mile 80 on and rolled into aid station 5 at the same time. It was 6:10 and as much as I had tried, I wasn't slow enough; 6:30 was the cut-off for those of us without lights. Michelle and I looked at each other after eating a few pieces of chocolate and decided that together, we were ready for the last 11 miles and what was truly the final hill.

The end was so close I managed to muster enough energy to ride all but the steepest section. Michelle and I crossed the finish line together at 13 hours on the dot.

It was quite the experience.... and I have to say, I can't wait for the next one - partially because it will only take me 10 hours but mostly for another excuse of fun riding with great company.

Thanks to CycleWorks' Sandie, Blake & Tim for taking me under their wing for the weekend!

Summer Summary

The summer always seems to pass quickly, but this year it seems particularly true. With only three short weeks until I head back north, it seems like a good moment to review some of the summer highlights.

 May was a blast. I tagged along with an old friend on the first leg of his cross country bike tour (http://steelingwest.com/) on a round about trip out to Cincinnati, Ohio. It was beautiful, fun, and rainy trip and one of the most solid months I've had to date. We met great folks and had wonderful adventures - all well documented by Lowell in his blog.

Shenandoah National Park

I headed back to Pennsylvania for the first few weeks of June before making my way south of the Mason-Dixon line in Greensboro, North Carolina. I spent a glorious three weeks down there visiting friends, working at the Edible Schoolyard with amazing young people, and hanging out and riding in Pisgah and Dupont State Forests.

Building a floating garden at one of the Greensboro Children's Museum's Schoolyard Summer Camps!

Mid-July I headed back to Pennsylvania where I've spent the rest of the summer. I am lucky to know a great many farmers who provide me with seasonal work whenever I'm in town.

Chickens at Vollmecke's CSA & Orchard

I have been working at a grass-fed beef farm (http://www.buckrunfarm.com/index.html), a vegetable and seed saving farm (http://happycatorganics.com/), and an orchard and csa (http://www.csachestercounty.com/). I love being outside and am trying to soak up as much of the heat and sun and warmth as possible before the cold cold Canadian winter sets in.