The 'Cross Diaries: Portland, baby!

I'm a road racer. If I'm riding in mud it usually means I've blown off the course and I'm about to crash. That's why it's still incredibly strange to me that people choose to take almost perfectly good road bikes and thrash themselves around on muddy singletrack for an hour. But that's what cyclocross is.

For those of you out there who haven't heard of this crazy cyclocross thing I'll try to quickly break it down for you. The event its raced on slightly modified road bikes. Almost everything is the same, except the bike has cantilever brakes to allow for slightly wider, knobier tires. A typical race is multiple laps on a 1-4 mile course and lasts 1 hour. Unlike a sane person's road course, a CX (short for cyclocross) course is a wacky mix of paved road, dirt road, singletrack, mud pits, sand pits, grass tracks, and small ponds. Then you toss in a few barriers that must be jumped over on foot or pitches too steep to ride. It's absolute lunacy. The best part is that you start with up to 150 guys at the same time on a course that quickly narrows to the width of one rider. You start by sprinting out of the gate and then you go as hard as you can until you completely explode or crash out of the race. They say you can tell a CX racer because they'll have mud on the down tube and puke on the top tube. It could also be blood on the top tube.

So, why would anyone participate in a sport so dangerous and crazy? Because it's about the most fun you can have on two wheels. It's an excuse for grownups to go play in the mud, and hundreds of people come out to drink, spectate and heckle the riders. It creates a sort of raucous, beer-soaked tailgating atmosphere with cowbells ringing and colorful epithets flying through the air. Frankly, the 'cross scene makes a road race look like an accountant's convention in a Holiday Inn Express. Well, maybe that's a bit harsh, but you get the point.

I've decided to toss a little 'cross racing into my winter training this year to add some intensity to my schedule and to practice crashing gracefully. So far I've gotten more intensity than I bargained for, but my crashes have been anything but graceful. My finest moment thus far was when I failed to unclip from my pedal in time and ran full steam into a staircase. Awesome.

This weekend I've traveled up to sunny Portland, Oregon with P Money Mooney and Keith Williams to see if I can't outdo myself at the USGP of Cyclocross. So far it looks like the odds are in my favor, as the course presents seemingly endless opportunities for me to crash in the most spectacular fashion. There are the off camber downhill turns, puddles with steep banks and submerged rocks, slick-as-snot hidden tree roots and, best of all, the huge mud-covered whoop-de-doos. These whoop-de-doos are literally unrideable sections on a rain-soaked motorcross track that have degenerated into mud pits a foot deep. And this part of the course really is unrideable, unlike the muddy run-up earlier on the course. No sooner had I finished declaring that run-up certifiably unrideable than a female racer from the Luna team came riding past me looking as though she were on a Sunday spin. That, my friends, is humiliating. But I think that's part of why I find myself coming back to this ugly stepchild of a sport that has shown me little but scorn. After all the countless hours I've spent training to be a cyclist it's fun to get back on a bike and feel like a total beginner again. I get to flail and crash and generally suck, and it's liberating to be out there blasting around with no pressure, no expectations and no skill. For a roadie like me 'cross also serves up a healthy helping of humility, and it's important to get a little taste of that every now and then lest I forget my place in this big world.

Here are a few shots of the drive up (we hit a blizzard), lunch in Chinatown, and the carnage after our course preview.


Like I said, I'm up here rocking around with Keith, who has done the lion's share of driving so far in his tricked out Williamsmobile. He's also pimped my 'cross ride with some high tech prototype carbon 'cross tubies. Without those bad boys I'm pretty sure I'd be last, so after tomorrow we'll be able to count backwards and tell you just how many spots a pair of tricked out Williams wheels will net you in a race. Wish me luck! If I'm still alive tomorrow evening I'll hit you with some good pictures and better stories.

Off Season Roundup

I'll be back with the third installment of the ever thrilling T&T 2010 series soon, but before I do here's a little photo retrospective of my off season:

Denver. I got to kick it with my sis Devyn in the Mile High City for a bit before heading back to Idaho. We managed to pack a lot into a week including a trip to the Corn Maze/Pumpkin Patch/Trashy Fair complete with the Bird Lady (how did Atze get to Denver?) and miniature cheerleaders.



We headead up to the mountains for a couple of days where we stayed at a "condo" in Copper Mountain. Turns out said condo was perhaps the nicest residence I've ever been in and was outfitted with a $12,000 coffee maker and dueling pinball machines. That combination made leaving the condo seem like an utter waste, but the onset of carpal tunnel syndrome brought about by hours of hyper-caffeinated pinballing and the allure of some Rocky Mountain fishing finally got me outdoors.
I was lucky enough to be in town for my pseudo-sister Steph Noodle Kaboodle Doodle's birthday and we made a night of it. We rode bikes from their house downtown and I got to laugh my tucchus off watching three young ladies dressed to the nines rip around Denver on their bicis. People had absolutely no idea what to think, but hey, that's life in the mountains. The highlight of the night was watching the show Cavalia, which is a strange combination of Cirque du Soleil, Rodeo and Opera. Maybe this video will help clarify things. My two favorite parts of the show would be the acrobatic agility of the riders (read backflip on a galloping horse) and the fact that there is a mullet requirement for all male performers. Maybe that's some attempt at horse empathy? I've also never been in such a dense concentration of horse people before, and that was almost as startling as the show itself. The whole shebang was shocking and new and I had a blasty. We had a quick snack of leftover pizza in the Cavalia parking lot (keepin' it classy) and then it was off to the clubs for a dance marathon. I'd offer pictures, but my moves are too fast to catch on camera and too provocative for this blog.
Idahome. I grew up in a small mountain town in Idaho called Ketchum. My parents still live there and no matter how far I roam I'll always consider Ketchum my home. This trip back I was lucky enough to have some visitors from Holland join me and I got to show off some of Ketchum and Idaho's finer points. So after an 11hr drive from Denver with my sis it was straight into tour guide mode to try to show Tim and Laura the best side of Idaho. Tim was scouting my hometown as a possible location for one of his international mountain bike clinics so he got in a ton of good riding. I tried to go with him the first day, but since it was the off season it was more like hiking while pushing a bike. We manged to do a little pure hiking, see some wildlife (moose in my backyard and deer in the front) before heading down to Boise for a little American Living 101.

It was Laura's first time in the US so I figured she should probably experience a real football game; one where you can use your hands and the goal is to physically harm players of the opposing team. We don't have any professional sports teams in Idaho, so people pretty much worship the BSU college team. We figured we'd better jump on the bandwagon and luckily my Dutchies felt right at home donning some bright orange threads. We did a little pre-gaming in a spot so full of spirit that even the port-a-potty was in team colors. After surviving a blowout BSU victory in temperatures that would have shocked even Shackleton we headed over to lay hands on some quintessential American cuisine: fast food hamburgers.




Tim and Laura are absolute gold, funny and easy-going, the best kind of guests and I hope they come visit again. The rest of my all too short break I spent hanging out with my oldest friends, enjoying some QT with my folks and mixing in a little CX racing and my first night of bartending. Yup, I'm now an experienced, professional booze jockey.

I'm back in sunny California now, soaking up rays and getting some saddle time. Life is good, very good. But more on that later, and more wacky action T&T style...