Author: The Adventuring Heidi

I don’t even know where to begin on expressing my love of cyclocross racing.  Need I say more, my weekend was completely awesome considering how much hesitation I had over whether I would even like cross racing.

Saturday morning was the Kick It Cross Festival and Time Trials… a one lap race done in time trial format to determine call ups for Sunday’s race.  I resisted wearing my aero helmet (though, hey… it would’ve worked with the randomness that is cross!), and was eager to do a time trial on the dirt.  I showed up early, and found the time to do a pre-ride lap of the course.  I didn’t know what to expect and was pretty clueless on everything… tires pressures… course preview flag colors… the fact that if you put bib numbers in your jersey’s rear pocket they will fly out causing you to have to walk the course backwards to find them… It was hot, already pushing 80 by 9am.  I immediately discovered how bumpy the course was and how the dirt had a powdered sugar consistency.

At 9:12 I set off for my lap.  I immediately pegged my heart rate and therefore about halfway through the 3 odd miles felt all my energy draining.  I was super proud that I made it through a technical downhill-uphill part without walking, which was caught on camera, yay!

I was passed once, and then at the finish lost the sprint by about half a second with another gal.  Not bad considering I was coming to a full stop at dismounts and it was my first time ever, right?  I ended up 9th in my SW4 category.  Average heart rate of 190 for the nearly 19 minute race to boot.

I signed up to do the BRAC Women’s Cross Camp in the afternoon so I had plenty of hours to kill.  I laid out a sleeping bag behind Mr. Fozzy and laid in the grass watching the other categories and almost falling asleep.  It was relaxing and despite the heat, a beautiful day.  By noon I was hungry to I packed up and wandered to Panda Express before the camp started.

The BRAC Women’s Cross Camp was up next.  Ann Trombley was coaching it along with the gals from Tough Girl Cycling.  I was excited to practice skills, dreading the 95 degree weather we had to do it in.  We split up into 5 groups for different skills stations, with Amy and I ending up in the “Intermediate-ish Advanced” group.

Our first station was run-ups with Rebecca Gross and another girl from Tough Girls.  I have a huge awkward fear of getting off my bike while it is moving, so this was a challenge.  First go at it I came around hot on a tight turn and almost ate it, long before I had to dismount and run up a hill with railroad ties.  Nice…  We practiced shouldering techniques and the most efficient ways to run up stuff.

Next station was starts with Lynn, a USAC Official, and Lynn from Tough Girls.  We went over USAC regulations and got free hair ties (I found a leopard print one!  ARGHHH so cool! Hahah) and then went over starting techniques and theories.  I realized that I usually like starting on the inside line as I thought back over my mountain bike races.  We practiced both inside and outside, and yep, I confirmed the inside notion.  Afterwards was a short break, and then onto more.

The third station was my clumsiest.  First we practiced “scootering,” which is keeping your left foot clipped in, and hovering on the left side of the bike and using your right foot to kick yourself along, like a big awkward skateboard that is really a bicycle.  Swearing I didn’t have enough coordination for this, I did get the hang of it.  And wouldn’t you know, I got more comfortable with the dismounting technique!  We also worked on remounts, which is something I think I’ll never get the hold of.

Fourth station was with Ann Trombley, and Olympian mountain biker, and Ksenia Liepkhina who I always tend to be at mountain bike races with.  Of the 5 skills stations, this is the one that I felt was the least helpful, as it was skills I carried over from mountain biking.  However, always good to still practice!  We practiced neutral and attack positions and some cornering.

Finally the fifth station was technical riding.  This is where my full squish mountain bike has given me bad habits, as I can be lazy and just mow through stuff and come out alive at the end.  Quite different on a cross bike, so I enjoyed thinking about line selection.  We practiced on the powdered sugar hill from the TT (and I couldn’t ride up it this time) and on a switchback downhill.

Finally we regrouped for food and raffle prizes.  I won a pair of neon green and orange Basil Docs socks, which is awesome because I never win anything!  Dehydrated, tired, and completely filthy I headed home.  Was attending a skills camp worth it?  Most definitely!  You get to look like a dork along with tons of other people looking like dorks!  For $25 it was well worth the money and gave me some new things to think about!

Sunday was Cross of the North.  My first official mass start cross race.  I arrived and spent a lot of time sitting on Mr. Fozzy’s back hatch, watching the action.  About 20 minutes until call ups I took off to warm up in the neighborhood by the course.  I took the inside edge of a second row call up, and gave myself a good position going onto the gravel thanks to decent flat line power I have at the start.  It suddenly became apparent that 20 girls riding the same 5 foot wide section of trail sucks, and rideable stuff becomes a scramble off the bike and around traffic.  Still, it was fun.  I took a tumble soon in the first lap, kinda going over the bars to the side but not really.  Abby managed to not run over me (yay!) and after I freed Hank (my Crux) from the barrier tape I was on my way.  I was passed and passed others, and had no idea where I was in placement.  The second lap was better, as traffic strung out and stuff was clear to ride.  The third lap I started getting chills and goosebumps in the 90 degree heat, reminding me of MTB Nationals in Pennsylvania.  As I neared the finish line I hoped hard that they would pull me, but wouldn’t you know Christine, Abby, and I rolled through for the final fourth lap – they pulled everyone behind us.

The fourth lap was just all about survival.  I battled with Abby, finally pulled away on some technical corners and worked at closing my gap on Jen, who was always so close by always so far away.  My granny gear felt like the hardest gear in the world.  My 22-ish pound bike felt like 50 pounds on run ups.  I saw my teammate Bill near the end, yelled out something about feeling like die, and put in a decent sprint effort to the finish.  And then tried not to puke.  And tried to stay upright.

When results were posted I let out a loud “Holy crap!” at the results board.  I was 12th out of 20!  I was expecting to definitely be near the bottom, so I was shocked.  48 minutes of racing, 192 average heart rate, 7.1 miles, and 90 degrees.

The number one reason why this weekend kicked butt:
The people.

Everyone is just so darn friendly and helpful.  On my 4th lap of COTN I took a bottle hand up from a guy on Team Rio Grande (he offered on the 3rd lap as well).  Not my cycling team, and heck I didn’t really know him except we talked about SPD pedals briefly the day before.  And there he was, offering me water.  A long time friend Malcolm was there spraying water and heckling both Reanna and I, which is great and always nice to see a friendly face.  Jen immediately offered up her water bottle at the end as I stumbled over barely forming sentences, and she proclaimed me her “nemesis” and said I better be chasing her to the point I beat her this year (she got me by 26 seconds in the time trial and something like 14 seconds in COTN).  Dejan and another photographer laughed and said how funny it was that I was giggling while racing, and I told them that they really had the hard jobs of the day.  Lots of congratulations and good jobs and good times all around.

So I’ve pretty much decided cylocross is my thing, aside from the fact I don’t drink beer.  It has the dirt, it has the kidney-jarring non-squishy bikes, awesome people, and challenge.  I signed up for the two races coming this weekend, and can’t wait for them!  Here’s to new adventures, friends, and being covered in dirt!

Hot temperatures still abound, but there’s that ever-lurking feeling that summer is just over all around.  The aspens up in the mountains are slowly going to yellow, and there’s a certain crispness to the air in the early morning.

After Nationals in July I went through a rather big period of disillusionment with riding bikes.  I know I was burnt out on racing long before Nationals, both mentally and physically.  It was incredibly frustrating watching myself seemingly get slower from my peak of racing at the beginning/middle of June.  My right knee began having pain issues again, which I contributed to the running I was doing in May and June, which also inflammed my right hamstring at the ischial tuberosity.  I went into July injured, tired, and just sick of everything and everybody.  I had my high point of nailing the bike leg of the Cheyenne Sprint Triathlon, and skated through Nationals  with a great deal of apathy and mental relief when it was all said and done.  I’m still trying to digest the Laramie Enduro, which resulted in a DNF at 52 miles because I was so mentally over it.  Over mountain biking, over everyone who mountain bikes, over dirt/rocks/obstacles, over myself.  So over it I didn’t even care that my parents loaded my overly expensive mountain bike in the truck in a rather sketchy way, and I didn’t have a care in the world if it would’ve flown out of the truck at 75mph on the trip back in Laramie.  OVER IT.  I made some off key comments on Facebook about my disappointment with my overall crappiness in endurance racing which my real life close friends, coworkers, etc took properly (aka those exposed to Heidi 24/7 and know how I talk and how I am), and in which a handful of acquaintances took a lot differently.  The whole resulting stupidity made me really evaluate why I even ride bikes and race, and a lot of good soul searching talks with some amazing gals at work got me straightened a bit mentally.  I skipped the LMBS Race #5, opting to spend an extra evening at home watching Netflix.  I returned the following week to the final race of the LMBS with just a personal goal of personally whipping Death Crotch’s ass (hrm).  It took me 1.5 hours to climb that trail the first weekend I ever had a mountain bike, so the race was all about me not taking that long.  I think I ended up doing it in around 25 minutes, so I did a secret happy dance at the summit and took to making it back to the finish line without a rear brake (my mountain bike was as physically exhausted as I was, even the bottle cage was falling off).  I think I ended up 7th in the race, in all actuality it didn’t matter because I just wanted to climb Death Crotch.  Which I did 🙂

And then I found myself at the end… end of racing mountain bikes in 2013.  13 odd races later, and it was done.  I was both relieved and lost at what to do.  Now I didn’t have to turn every ride into a some sort of training, “I can ride faster than you can on Strava” BS.  Yet I still found myself lining up at a Lory Park Mountain Challenge race, expert class no less.  It was nearly dark by the time I finished Timber/Kimmons for the second time, and I was lost as heck on the Valley Trails in the faint slivers of daylight.  I turned around and found my car.  Yet I strangely didn’t care.  I climbed Timber twice in a row, who does that?!  Then registration for the Stone Temple 8 came out, and I joined up with two others for a co-ed team entry… that comes later in September. Raced in 3 states, traveled probably… uhhh 7000 miles in Mr. Fozzy to races, and pedaled in the dirt in Wyoming, Colorado, Utah, New Mexico, Iowa, Illinois, Ohio, and Pennsylvania.  I had my share of adventures!

I picked up my Specialized Crux in the meantime during all of this, and reignited something desperately needed in my life – the desire to ride a bike.  Harsh, crappy brakes, and silly fast – beyond excited for cyclocross season!  I signed up for a women’s BRAC cyclocross camp, and two races next weekend September 7-8.  I fail at getting back on a bike fast, so I’m mostly looking forward to how much I can laugh at myself during a cross race.  I’ve already filled up most of September with races.

August 11 was another rendition of Ride for Sight.  Last year I struggled through 73 miles, so it was only natural to aim for the full century/100 miles this year.  I spent the first 8 miles redlining myself as part of the “Blue Train” and lead peloton, finally dropping off so I wouldn’t burn all the matches long before the 50 mile turn around.  Matt, our teammate Bill, and I formed our own group and pedaled along.  I enjoyed how much faster the ride was going this year in the comparison to the year before, even though we were spending tons of time at the aid stops.  Bill turned around at Aid 3 for a metric century, so Matt and I continued on.  It sucked, it was getting hot, but the boiled plain hot dog 50 miles in at the turnaround made it worth it!  Best damn hot dog I had eaten, at least at that point in my life!  I might’ve whined a bit, but I finished the ride… though riding into the park my GPS only said 99.4 miles.  You can bet I did circles in the parking lot until I hit 100!  First century ride done and out of the way!  It was made awesome by my even awesomer teammates and the great volunteers (including a guy who asked if we knew those two that got medals at the national championships!).

It’s been an interesting summer.  I didn’t pedal nearly as many miles as I thought I would.  I didn’t do as many cool things as I thought I would.  I worked a lot, I laid on my futon a lot.  I keep telling myself I’ll start training for next year soon.  Soon.  As in later.  Not today.  I do road rides time to time when I get up before the midday heat, and I’ve been hitting up North Park with the Crux frequently to get use to skinny tires on dirt.  It is what it is, and I’ll eventually regroup and “train.”  Until then, there’s ton of cyclocross fun to have!

A few months ago Matt turned on “The Town that Was” while browsing Hulu.  I’m ever the curious person about towns/places that are abandoned, especially for human caused reason, so we left the documentary on and watched with big eyes.  Chernobyl?  That has been #1 on my bucket list since I was 12 years old).  Heck, I’ve even explored an abandoned town that kept up Nike missile sites in NJ during a car meet, and we kept entertained by posing our cars in the abandoned driveways for photo opps.  So needless to say, the documentary, which was about Centralia, PA, more than intrigued Matt and I, and it didn’t take me long to Google where it was in relation to our other planned activities in Pennsylvania.

Centralia is a former coal mining town located in eastern central Pennsylvania.  In 1962 somehow the coal under the town caught on fire.  There’s different theories on how it happened, but either way it occurred in the town landfill, so obviously someone wasn’t doing things properly.  Things kind of just went on their ways until the 1970s when people started realizing their underground gasoline tanks were super hot, and a poor child fell into a massive sinkhole that developed under him in his backyard (he was rescued).  Of course, the lethal amounts of carbon monoxide wafting up from the ground was a good sign things weren’t going well, too.  The government offered residents relocation packages, and most of the town’s residents accepted.  There were some holdouts, and in the early 1990s the government enacted Imminent Domain, which seized all the property and condemned all the structures.  Later on USPS revoked the zip code (ouch).  Still, there are a few holdouts, fighting lawsuits and all sorts of conspiracy theories surrounding Centralia, such as the government just wants the mineral rights to all the coal underneath the town.

As for the fire, it still burns.  From what I’ve read, it’s 400 acres and spreading in all directions.  Oh, and it’s suppose to burn for a couple more centuries or so.  Yes, centuries.  As for what’s left of the town… there’s a few old row houses without there row-counterparts, with walls supported by weird brick flying buttress supports.  The drab looking municipal building is still there as well, and some very well manicured cemeteries.  Nature has reclaimed the rest, with new growth forests filling in where houses once stood, sliced by city streets that go nowhere.

We found Centralia quite easy by taking PA 61 south from where we exited I-80.  At first we nearly drove right by it.  There’s no town sign, and really since there’s nothing there, there’s nothing to tell you, well, that you’re there.  A U-turn remedied our mistake, and we took to driving through the empty streets.  Matt was instantly disappointed for the lacking of smoke billowing out of the ground, like the documentary showed.  We drove to the top of the hill, just a smidge north of the biggest cemetary, and parked in a dirt parking lot and jumped out.  I touched the ground, and it was indeed hot… it was also 95 degrees outside in full sunshine.  I laughed.  Another car pulled up, filled with European tourists and they asked where the smoke was.  We shrugged.

So we kicked with the European dudes, who were quite funny and strangely enough, kindred spirits since they were also in this eery abandoned ghost town with us.  One guy lit a cigarette and said in his accent, “Look, I found the smoke!”  We climbed to the top of the dirt rubbish hill, which appear to be more of a teenage party trash heap more than anything.  No smoke.  I took to being more amused by the 100 year old Ukrainian Orthodox church across the valley on the hill (old churches are another amusement to me, I love them!) than anything else.

European dudes found a guy and a girl that were also wandering around, and that guy pointed us in the direction of the abandoned stretch of PA 61 that had cracked and buckled from the fire (the highway re-routes around that section now).  Matt and I grabbed the mountain bikes, thinking that we might as well bike in the apparently bike-friendly (aka no cars, nor people) town of Centralia while we could, and took off to the abandoned highway.

This is when I felt the most eery.  4 lane divided highway.  No cars.  Nothing.  It was almost like a zombie movie about to go very bad.  But hey, I figure I can out pedal zombies on my bike, so we were all good!  The highway is filled with graffiti… some good, some bad, some just stupid.  A lot of names, dates, and male genitalia.  Now, I can’t say what possesses people to draw male genitalia on everything, but so be it.  There was also a nice picture of a unicorn pooping cupcakes.  Some messages to the government, and of course racial crap.

About halfway down the road is the “speed bump.”  AKA “oh crap, it looks like a super earthquake volcano happened here!”  Cracked and heaved was the road, about 5 feet wide at it’s widest and a couple feet down.  Still no smoke, but definitely the coolest thing we had seen in Centralia all day.

Matt and I continued down to the end of the abandoned stretch.  Tourists on a Harley rode past us.  (The only thing barricading this road off is a dirt mound with an opening wide enough for motorcycles and bicycles and maybe a wheelchair.  Due to steep grades, wheelchair not advised.)  The European dudes made their way down, also commenting on the very large amounts of, ahem, male genitalia painted on the road.  Sheesh, at least I’m not the only one who noticed!  We also ran into a guy taking film footage with an 8mm camera, definitely cool and made me sad that I didn’t have my Holga or vintage Lubital along for the adventure.  We made our way back up (seriously, by bike is the way to do this!), and Matt took off through the woods (“please let there not be sinkholes!” rang out in my mind) while I hopped on the random pieces of sidewalk that were left.  Upon getting back to the car, two elderly women pulled up and asked us what happened to the church.  Not sure if they missed the Wyoming plates, but we kindly told them we had no idea.  Such a random mix of people coming to see Centralia, that’s for sure!

Part of me wanted to scour the cemeteries for long lost relatives (a lot of my family had connections to PA coal mining and the state in general), but Matt wasn’t up for that so we said Auf Wiedersehen to our European friends (who I think narrowed down to being Swiss or Austrian due to a funny version of German I swore I was recognizing) and continued our trip south.

So, check Centralia off the bucket list.  Not quite what we were expecting (no smoke!!!), but still worth the side trip, especially the highway portion!  I think the town would be awesome to visit on a foggy, winter day!  Then maybe I could tell if the ground was really warm, eh?

Matt and I had reserved 3 days of travel time to make it to Allentown, PA for MTB Nationals , so the grand plan was to stop along the way and find places to bike that were close to I-80.  Simple enough, I did some research, got some opinions of locals, and put a plan into place.  We said our goodbyes to Cheyenne at 10pm on July 13th, and headed Mr. Fozzy east into the great abyss that is Nebraska.

Driving all day Sunday was done for one goal – getting to our first destination in Iowa!

Trail #1 – Sugar Bottom Trail System – North Liberty, IA

Iowa, I must apologize.  I cracked so many jokes about “I can’t wait to see a hill in Iowa” and had just general doubt about how the trails would be.  Sugar Bottom changed all of that for me!  This system was started in 1990, and consists of singletrack that winds through dense forests and pine groves along a reservoir.  All the trails (aside from the central fire road) are directional, which is definitely helpful considering all the blind corners and lack of visibility you’ll have while riding them.  There are north and south trail systems, all connected to the central fire road.  Each trail intersection is marked, and in fact I really don’t think a person needs a map!  Matt and I started at one end, and just kept going and going until we worked our way completely around.  I love systems that are so well marked maps are not needed!

Link to trail system map:  http://www.icorrmtb.org/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/SugarBottom_r6_Basic.pdf

Both the north and south systems have a main “beginner” loop, and off of these spur harder intermediate/expert loops that loop back close to where they started on the main loop.  This makes it very easy to pick and choose trails and the length you desire to ride!  Matt and I tried to jump off on all the spurs we could find.  This is where we did enjoy a chuckle, as an “expert” marked trail in Iowa doesn’t really equate to what we would call an expert trail here in southeastern Wyoming.  The expert trails maybe would have a bit of roots or tricky switchbacks, or perhaps a foot drop, but nothing too extreme that someone with some time on their MTB couldn’t ride.  The funnest expert trail we found was “Cyclocross Hill,” which is a bit swoopy downhill over a bridge and then straight up this insanely steep hill.  I attempted it but chickened out at the bottom of the hill when I saw how really steep it was.  Matt made it to the top like the rockstar he is.  Next time, Iowa, next time!

This was just the trail system to begin my acclimation to horrible humidity, rooty terrain, and lack of elevation.  The humid weather left me drenched not too soon from jumping on the bike, but I noticed how happy my lungs felt.  And due to the relatively low elevation (I consider anything lower than 3000 feet “sea level” so take my elevation comments how you please), I felt like I could just go for days and days.  The tight switchbacks, especially on climbs, helped me develop some of those skills.

Overall we did 10.5 miles, which included over 1,100 feet of climbing.  Iowa, you did well in the elevation gain department!  Another perk to the trail system is that we only ran into 3 other people the whole time (and 3 people hiking the wrong way on the trail…), so you can get nice and spread out from other people!

We called it a day in the Davenport area, got a hotel, enjoyed a nice shower to wash the sweat and dirt off, and had a burger at Steak n Shake.

Trail #2 – Illiniwek Forest Preserve – Hampton, IL

Next up on the list was Illiniwek Forest Preserve, which is along the bluffs over the Mississippi River on the Illinois side.  This was actually the first trail system that I had decided on when planning the trip.  It is maybe only an hour or so from Sugar Bottom, but since we stayed overnight we decided this would start our morning off before hitting the road again.

Once again, these were singletrack-ish (might be a little wider than typical singletrack) trails through dense woods that climb and descend a bluff.  Some roots, but otherwise smooth sailing.  Heck, we saw a 5 year old tearing up these trails.  Kid friendly!  Not a lot of miles unless you do multiple laps, but enough for a quick and very satisfying ride!

Once again, this trail system is split into north and south loops.  The north loop as an overlook you can go to for the Mississippi River.  “They” say that the north loop has more climbing, but both loops seemed comparable to me.  It was definitely fun coming down with banked corners!  These trails are not directional, however, so don’t ride like too much of an asshat.

Link to trail map:  http://www.qcforc.org/trails/ifp/IFPTrailMap.pdf

We did encounter a freshly downed tree on the south loop system, so we had to take a little re-route.  No biggie, and I guess it was fresh since the day before according to someone I had run into who inquired why a Wyoming care was in the parking lot 😀  This guy comes out to Colorado and rides, so I recommended Curt Gowdy, and explained why we were where we were.  Always nice to run into some fellow mountain bikers!

There is signage at some intersections, but there are not maps at every intersection.  We didn’t get lost, and just took loops to see where we’d end back up.  It was pretty easy to know how to find the car… go down!

All in all we did 5.7 miles for 344 feet of climbing.  It is definitely easy on the climbs, nothing too insanely steep and all the switchbacks are more than doable.

Added bonus is that you’re on the Mississippi River, so we popped down to the riverbank with our bikes for an extra 2 miles to explore.

We cleaned up the best we could (thank goodness for baby wipes!) and jumped in the car for the journey across Illinois, Indiana, and half of Ohio.  I initially was hoping we could make Royalview in Ohio for some riding, but I underestimated drive time so we settled into what is one of the nicest La Quinta Inns ever in Macedonia, OH and called it a night – only after a good meal at Bob Evans!  We need those restaurants in Wyoming, I swear!

Trail #3 – West Branch State Park – Ravenna, OH

Another quick drive from the hotel for another morning of mountain biking, this time at West Branch State Park in Ohio.  Oh man… I don’t even know where to begin.  Let’s just say at least this trail made Bear Creek Resort in PA (the Nationals venue) look like a walk in the park.  And it taught me all about nasty muddy wet trail systems with nasty wet roots and nasty mossy slick rocks.  I’m pretty sure I shed tears riding these damn trails.

Trail map link: http://www.camba.us/pn/downloads/New%20West%20Branch%20Map.pdf

A common theme, once again there’s north and south trails all connected by a central road, Cable Line.  We chose the southern trails along the reservoir first, as I heard they were milder.  Immediately I took my glasses off because they kept fogging up due to the humidity.  We slipped and slided along the trail, until we reached a flooded part.  Uber flooded, like “no you won’t go pass Go” flooded.  Matt happily tramped through the woods and found the road.  Me on the other hand… I have a huge irrational fear of bugs, spiders, worms, nasty stuff.  Humid east coast woods = nasty stuff.  I swear it took him 5 minutes to convince me to walk through the woods.  I dashed through, trying not to think of all the creepy crawly things that could get on me.

Then we jumped on the Gorge Trail on the north side.  There is a slate bottom creek we had read about, and we wanted to find it.  I think I for sure invented new curse words riding the rock gardens.  Everything was just so wet and icky.

The slate bottom creek made the horrible trail worth it!  Clear, cool flowing water, all over slate that you can easily ride a bike up and down (not very slippery at all!).

The bad about this trail system:  lack of signage.  Bring a trail map.  And don’t listen to me when I say what direction the lake is in.  Ugh.  I suppose you could say we were lost.  But we did make it back to the car.  Not all was lost!  We did 6.3 miles and 584 feet of climbing.  Do I ever want to ride here again?  No.

Got back to the car, discovered there’s no running water around the trailhead (a plus for Sugar Bottom), so I took SmartWater and used it to wash my body off.  There’s only so much SmartWater and baby wipes can do, but I tried.  We laughed at the fact our bike clothing and shoes were smelling something horrid after 3 days of use in humid/stinky climates.  I get so spoiled by the ultra dryness of the West…

Eastward we turned for the final 5 hours of our trip.  We passed the USA Cycling truck, which was nice surprise.  Final stop before our glorious Red Roof Inn in Allentown would be the modern day ghost town of Centralia, PA.  I’ll try to remind myself to make a whole post about our Centralia adventures!

We definitely enjoyed our little biking adventures on the trip out, and it was fun to see what different parts of the country have to offer for mountain biking!  The trip home we did straight through, so we didn’t have the time to stop along I-70… another day!

Oh man, where do I begin?!  After three days of making our way across the country (exploits to be discussed in a different blog post, hopefully!), we settled into our hotel in Allentown, PA – final destination on this whole “hey, let’s go to nationals!” idea that I’ve had since last October.

Wednesday was a large practice window, and packet pickup.  As always, I made sure we were there an hour before we could do anything, so we sat around the air conditioned lodge.  USAC races are a weird atmosphere in my mind.  Uber serious bidness, always.  I start seeing people whose blogs I read, or race results I know, and it kinda creeps me out.  Also weirds out Matt when I’m like “oh, that’s so and so.  They’ve won a world cup.  No, I’m not a stalker, I just read lots of stuff!”  I fretted about how my hairstyle matched all the Whole Athlete girls’… you know, all the important stuff I should be worried about before I race a big race on the east coast against people I’ve never seen before in life.  In fact, I do believe I was starting to have feelings of apathy towards the race.  Like I had thrown my hands in the air and decided that whatever happens, happens.  There was 6 girls in my class, and I had resolved that I had to at least get 5th to make the drive worth it.

Seriously, free pasta dinner.  I KNEW there was a reason I came!  Packets picked up, licenses confirmed (they really check that stuff at Nationals… beats CO road races where they don’t even check my category), we stuff our goodies back in the car and hit the course.  Humidity 1, Heidi 0.  I almost passed out on a climb.  I felt horrible.  And other racers were rude.  A girl blamed me, when I was off the trail, as the reason she couldn’t make a technical climb.  Another took to just yelling “EXCUSE ME!” instead of a nice “Hey, yo, can I pass you?” like I’m use to.  Couldn’t decide if it was the USAC atmosphere or just East Coast personalities.  I was saddened.  I realized I’m too nice of a person, apparently.  Then I remembered all the times adrenaline-raging male racers did stupid stuff around me in Wyoming and Colorado and decided it sucks everywhere.  Haha.

The course is… well… to Laramie locals, a combination of Haunted Forest (with it’s wetness, mud, bugs, roots, and rocks) and Headquarters (rock gardens) on hardcore crack.  HARDCORE CRACK.  If there is such a thing.  Rock gardens, yeah… I have ridden those.  Bear Creek Resort?  They make Gowdy seem completely tame.  Literally 5+ miles of a constant rock garden after the crest of the course on top of the ski hill.  There is no rest, flowy section.  Hell, even the wide gravel road portion of the start/finish was loose and rocky.  I learned where to walk when I wanted to preserve life and limb.  I learned that pegging it and just going was key to preserving life and limb.  And hell, screw the mud, just barrel right through it.  I wasn’t going to come out sparkling clean at the end, so play in the mud, why not?

We did one lap of the 6.5 mile course.  We originally – before we saw the course – wanted to do two on practice day.  But my body was done.  I had drained my 2 liter Camelbak during the lap and just felt crappy.  I asked Matt if he wanted to do a pro lap, which was shorter, and apparently 100% tamer, but he declined.  It was over 90 degrees with whatever horrible % of humidity, and I just wanted to shower and get out of my nasty, wet kit.  So back to Allentown we went to clean up, hit up Target, and head back for the pasta dinner.

I really should’ve taken a photo of my plate of pasta.  I’m sure I had a few pounds on there!  We joined a couple from Washington who brought their 15 year old daughter out to race.  The mom thought my pasta plate was Matt’s.  I proceeded to lick my plate clean as we chatted with them about various things.  A race organizer/timer person joined us and we learned how pissed off everyone is that USAC dropped qualifying for Cat 2 and 3 racers.  I agree, as we drove to Fruita to race in a blizzard to qualify, to find out a week later qualifying was dropped… We were also convinced to race with Camelbaks (well, I was… Matt had already decided he would) since the course would probably rattle a bottle out of the cage, not to mention there’s no smooth areas to drink.

Back at the hotel I took to fretting about where I would place.  I realized the 6th girl bumped to Cat 2, so we were left with 5 in my category.  Awesome, we’ll all medal!  But I didn’t want last place, so I compared my Strava segment times to course times at the Bear Creek Challenge (PA State Champs back in June).  I would’ve been 2nd by over 20 minutes.  OK… OK… OK… I got this I started thinking.  I fell asleep rather easy and awoke to my alarm at 5:45am.

Time to get the show on the road.

Not wanting a repeat of the passing out/wanting to vomit thing, I decided on a lighter breakfast of a glazed doughnut and fruit from Wawa, with some juice and then lots of water.  I’m pretty sure I had consumed a few liters of water even before the race started just to stay on top of the humidity.  My right knee has been giving me grief for a few weeks, so I didn’t want to do a huge warm up, and not to mention I didn’t want to be sitting in a completely wet kit before the race even started.  So we did the starting climb, where I pedaled at a horribly slow pace, not realizing Kate Courtney was behind me (my hair twin!  LOL).  She wished us well when I finally pulled over, and we cut under banner tape to get off the course and ride down, behind the lodge.  I told Matt he could warm up more, but soon staging was starting.  Matt’s group was first to go, and they had to sit at the starting line for a good 10-15 minutes.  Talk about nerve wracking!

Finally Matt was off and I rode over to the staging area.  I felt so awkward, as most people knew each other and I was just like “oh hayyy, I’m the random girl from Wyoming!”  I picked out the PA State Champ who I had assigned a big target to.  I just wanted to beat her.  Nothing personal, she was just my random “You’re going down!” choice of the day!  I started chatting with Dana and Kim, and we all agreed that we just wanted to survive the course with our bodies intact.

There were two minutes windows into each class, so it took awhile before we were called to the line.  The announcer said all of our names and we waited for the whistle.

WHISTLE.

And we were off on the loose gravel road.  Not wanting to be in the back to the single track, Amy, Alyssa, and I charged forward.  I was third onto the single track climb, where I then rode off the damn trail into the bushes.  Like a noob, totally.  I jumped off and ran my bike up as Amy and Alyssa pedaled off into the sunset.  Giving myself a big ol’ cursing I jumped back on and pedaled to try to distance myself from Kim and Dana.  I couldn’t see the other two girls, so I almost right then settled on “OK, 3rd place isn’t so bad, just survive the race.”  Kind of sad I had the resolution so quickly, but like I said, I was almost apathetic towards this race.  You build yourself up for months and months and months for a result, and yet I really did so little for training and what not to get any results.  Over ten races in for the season, and I was feeling rather fried both mentally and physically.

And yet, there it happened.  I caught Alyssa.  And the Walker, Texas Ranger theme song popped into my head.  I had a mission now.  “The eye of the ranger is upon you, anything you do she’s gonna see…”  Frantic “get away from this girl mode” clicked on in my head.  Her and I yo-yo’d for a bit, but finally I get ahead and stayed there on some techy bits.  I’m not sure if she was having bike or body problems, but I wasn’t sticking around to find out.  Soon she was out of sight, and I was slowly picking off the 15-18 and 20-29 age group girls.

My body was feeling good, though I was sweating up a storm fast.  The first third of the course is the easiest, with some rocks and roots, but still fairly easy and also has wide gravel road climbs.  I knew my advantage would hopefully come here, though I didn’t really push that hard.  I granny geared all the climbs, preserving energy.  I was smiling, happy that I was sitting in 2nd and having a good race.  A spectator yelled to me that there is no smiling in a race, and that I needed to try harder.  Next time I saw him I did a dramatic frown, LOL.  A first aid guy told me I had 200 yards to the top of the hill, so I dug deep up the steep climb and crested over the top with my heart redlined.  I briefly saw Amy descending in the trees.  That would be the last time I would see her.

So begun the miles and miles and miles and more miles of rock gardens.  At the first descent they actually had three first aid people lining the rock garden, which is always a bit weird to see.  One guy actually said “holy crap, you’re going to ride this?” as I flew over the rocks.  I wanted to say something along the lines of “uhhh, this is cake compared to what comes!!” but I had to concentrate.  My damn glasses kept fogging up with the humidity so I kept having to slide them down my nose so air could circulate around them.  I tried to remind myself to keep drinking as well.

Funny thing is the course was going by a lot faster than practice.  Then again, I was riding a lot faster!  As my body and bike took a beating, I sailed over rocks and roots, trying to carefully pick lines and in other times just monster trucking over things.  Yay for 29ers!

Every once and in awhile I had to come off the bike, whether it was for rider error or just getting caught up in something.  I thought I could fly through the 20 foot wide root/mud pit, but got hung up half way so I gave my feet a good coating on black, sticky mud.  There’s one elevation bridge thing that I can’t bring myself to ride for some reason that I just ran.  Finally shoved my glasses in my back pocket.  I hammered where I could, took it easy where I couldn’t.  Before I knew it I was to the techy rock drops, which I walked, while joking with some lady spectators that today wasn’t a good day to break my neck.  (Who jokes about that?  Yeesh I’m strange.)  Saw a photographer and since I was smiling he asked if I was having a good time.  “I’m having a blast!” I cheerfully called out.  And even sooner I was to the descending rocky switchbacks that I knew I was going to walk for my safety.  And wouldn’t you know, that is where the heckle pit for Cat 3 was.

I casually said, “What a nice day for a walk in the woods with my bike!”  to which the hecklers responded “Hey, we have a novel idea!”

Me – “yeah, what is it?”
Heckler – “Get on your bike and ride it!”
Me – “Nah, you see I have this novel idea called protecting life and limb, you should try it!”
Another heckler – “Whoa you have lightning bolts on your socks!”
Me – “Hell yeah, they’re magic socks.  Magic powers and stuff!”
Different heckler – “Flash Gordon would be so disappointed in you.  You’re suppose to be riding your bike when were lightning socks.  Poser!”

By then I had rounded the switchback and tried to ride.  “Hey look, I’m riding my bike!”  BONK.  Front tire caught a big rock causing me to nearly endo.

Heckler – “Get back on your damn bike, we see you cheating!”

I love hecklers!!!  It was a lot of fun!

By this point, I was getting tired and my bike handling skills were all over the place.  From the summit down I was having chills and goosebumps, which is a not so lovely sign of not so nice things.  I found myself unable to ride straight lines when needed, and unable to turn switchbacks (there I would ride straight lines).  I knew it was just surviving at this point.  Amy was long gone off the front, and my closest competitor was long off my rear.  About a quarter mile to the finish I had my only run in with gravity when I bobbled over in a rock garden, slamming down on a rock and then sliding down it.  Kinda stuck in my bike, I finally unclipped and got up and carried on.  I didn’t waste any time seeing if the bike or I was alright, as I knew I was so close to the finish.

Out of the woods, and by the lake.  The humidity was stifling.  Right before the gravel climb up to the finish line they had the snowmakers turned on, raining cool water down on us racers.  I seriously thought of just stopping and sitting there for awhile, but alas I carried on, putting forth a decent sprint effort towards the finish.

1 hour 14 minutes 15 seconds for 2nd place in Cat 3 30-39 women!

WOOHOOO!

Amy beat me by a good 11-12 minutes.  What a beast!  I had 7 minutes on the 3rd place finisher, Kim.  Dana followed in for 4th.  None of us know what happened to Alyssa, who DNF’d.

I didn’t see Matt anywhere, but I have to admit I was so out of it and shivering so bad in the 90 degree heat that I took to the shade and just collapsed.  That’s there I took the first photo of this post.  I was covered in yucky mud, blood was running down my right thigh, bugs were congregating on me like I was a delicious, I was soaked head to toe in sweat, and I just wanted to sit.  Matt eventually wandered over, both knees bandaged up and ice on his right elbow and a hole ripped into the front of his kit.  He held up two fingers signalling that he finished second.  I did the same.  Then he told me he broke his arm.  Whoops.

We hung around for a few hours, then drove back to Allentown for showers and X-rays at urgent care.  Grabbed a quick lunch at Panera Bread, and headed back to the awards ceremony.

Tons of photographers on the course, but no photos to be found, at least not yet.

What I learned:  I have better technical skills than I believe I do.  Now that I’ve survived Bear Creek I am super eager to go up to Gowdy and ride.  I think I might be surprised!  Humidity sucks, but it didn’t debilitate me like some people said it would.  It actually kept my lungs quite happy.  Heat stroke is no bueno, as shivering in 90 degree weather is not normal.  Thank goodness I didn’t run my Fast Track tires.  I’m not sold on tubeless – way too many people with tubeless tires flatted out of the races all weekend.  Climbing at sea level rocks.  Only wear lightning bolt socks if it’ll make Flash Gordon proud.  Have fun and smile – it was a Cat 3 race, not the Olympics!  Fly next year if we go, the drive sucks.

I’m now a big girl Cat 2 racer.  And now I think I actually have to train…

I kinda make fun of triathletes a lot.  Granted, I think the whole world does.  They’re a special breed.  So when I got a TT bike, some of my cyclist friends make tri jokes.  When I started running I was told it was fitting since I owned a TT bike.  I still swore I’d never do a tri.  Then Kim and I went swimming and I discovered I can swim okay enough, so I registered for a tri.  And so I’m here today…  My line of thinking fell kind of into “well, I might as well do a triathlon since I do all sorts of crazy things I never thought I’d do, and at least I can hopefully kick ass on the bike, and its held a few blocks from my house.”

I entered the Cheyenne Sprint Triathlon, which has a pool option.  See, I would never do a tri without a pool option because I have a huge fear of water so open water swims are out for me, and my microbiology degree tells me lakes are yucky anyways (not that pools aren’t, but there shouldn’t be as much nasty stuff in them in theory).  I arrived promptly at 6:30am, quite enjoying the fact it was less than a 5 minute drive from my house after a summer of driving hours, and sometimes to other states, for races.  I was kinda lost, as the whole pre-race procedure is very different than my normal mountain or road races.  I wandered over to pick up my chip but they weren’t ready so I took to preparing my transition area.  Not like I had any idea what I was doing, but I spread down my T-rex dinosaur beach towel, and placed my aero helmet the incorrect way on my bike.  I folded and refolded my bike shorts on top of my road shoes.  I gave up on trying to make my water bottle stay upright.  Wandered back over for my timing chip.

Finally some of my teammates started showing up.  I knew them (I write the team blog/race results), but they didn’t know me which is always awkward.  At least it gave me some conversation.  Amy finally wandered in and I tried to convince her to set up her transition area next to mine, which didn’t work, but then I recruited Bob.  Who also didn’t know me.  But we remedied that with some conversation about the LMBS!  I asked Amy if I was expected to run from the pool to the transition area (quite a ways away… almost like a secondary run leg if you ask me) barefoot.  haha, such a noob.  I was realizing that I am far too much of a cyclist to be in an episode of “Shit triathletes say”

Soon enough us pool swimmers were wandering over to the Municipal Pool to get our swim on.  I was super nervous about having to swim with 4 other people in my lane.  They asked us to group ourselves by similar times.  These guys went “we’re slow, we swim 9’s.”  Well, my 400m estimated time is 12-13 minutes so I avoided those guys.  Luckily I found a group of 3 men with similar times to me so we teamed up for the Slow Lane of Awesomeness.  They sent us off semi-time trial style, every 5 seconds in the lane.  I was third to go, but soon was touching the feet of the guy in front of me.  I knew I didn’t have the energy to pass so I just stayed there behind him hoping a foot wouldn’t meet my face.  About 4 laps in or so I tossed my goggles off as they were all fogged up.  I refuse to put my face in water, so it worked out.  Yes, I do have a very turtle like atrocious swim technique, but hey, it gets me through 400m so whatever!  The last 100m were killer and I could feel my pace dropping horrible.  I was very happy when I could finally get out of the pool and onto my favorite thing ever – a bicycle!

Running the half marathon (ok, it wasn’t that far, just felt like it) to the transition area I felt so wonky and floaty.  I didn’t run fast, but fast enough to get me there quickly.  My poor tender feet were like “Why are we running barefoot?!   Didn’t parasitology class teach you anything about grass in city parks?!” Haha.  During the transition I learned that bike shorts are super hard to put on when you’re wet.  And a standard bike chamois does an incredible job at wicking all the water up from your swimsuit… but I did indeed get them on, along with socks and shoes (BOA dials are hard to turn with wrinkly fingers, for future reference), helmet, and sunglasses.  I started my Garmin 510, even though I had my FR910XT on as well.  I doused myself with some lemon water, as more went on me than in my mouth and I was off!  Of course this was the time I struggled with clipping in and I was an idiot and tried to get on my bike from the right side, which I can’t really do as I always mount from the left side.  Lessons learned.

I was so happy to be on the bike and in my element.  The  Cheyenne Police Dept. and race volunteers did an amazing job controlling traffic, so I ultra enjoyed blowing stop signs and stop lights on the course.  I started picking off other people immediately on Central Avenue, which added to my happiness.  I’m never strong on the road, so it was nice for once being the one dropping others!  Everything was going great, and I was heading towards the first big climb, which is up Bishop Blvd. to the Vandehei roundabout.  I tried shifting into my big ring granny gear and the bike made a horrible clatter and it wouldn’t shift.  I tried again, same results.  Not willing to get off and see what was wrong, I grunted and mashed out the climb.  Apparently something is messed up with my bike, which left me with about 3-5 hard big ring gears to work with on the hilly course.  And I couldn’t go into the small chainring as my front derailleur will not shift back into the big ring.  The whole race I had a terrible rattling coming from the rear end of my bike and all I could do was hope everything stayed in one piece until the end.

And that it did!  The course flew by, and so did the hills.  I continued picking off other racers and soon knew I was in the front of the pack (though it didn’t mean much since it is a time trial type of thing).  The volunteers were amazing and cheered as everyone went by, which was great motivation.  A lady yelled out that she loved my bike, too!  The turn around was at Little Bear Inn, and I was able to pick up speed for the climb back super well.  The wind was pretty nonexistent, an added pleasure.  I dropped down Bishop Blvd off the roundabout at 40mph, which I realized was 10mph over the posted speed limit and probably explained why I almost had to pass a car – making me realize that I am way more comfortable with speed on a road bike than I ever will be on a mountain bike!

Coming down Central a volunteer told me I was in 6th place, woohoo!  I cruised back to the park and into the transition area.  This transition went a lot faster, as all I had to do was change shoes and take my helmet off.  Then off to the run… the horrible, miserable run.  I managed a strong first quarter mile and then started to quickly die.  I would say I probably did about half walk, half run.  My right knee was screaming in pain and I had a side ache.  It was hard not to feel miserable, though I was still giddy about how well the bike portion went.  My average speed was a little over 19mph for the 13.3mile course!

3.1 miles of torture later and I saw the finish line and heard the announcer calling my name.  I put in a decent sprint effort and sat my butt down as soon as I could after the finish line.  Whew, I finish a triathlon!

My official overall time was 1:33:29.8.  Which…drumroll… was 2nd place in my age category!  YAY!   I finished 14th overall in the pool swim category… not too shabby for winging a triathlon with no training, eh?

Unfortunately I had to impatiently wait until later in the evening to see all the splits (which I guess wasn’t too bad, I crashed out for a few hours on the couch anyway!).  I really wanted to see my bike time and compare it against all the others.  It was worth the wait!  I had the fastest bike time of any pool participant – male or female!!  To boot, I had the 5th fastest female bike time of the day.  Sometimes being a cyclist pays off 😀  The bike portion is what saved my butt, in all honesty.  My bike time was 11 minutes faster than the 3rd place finisher of my category who had way faster swim and run times, to show much it helped out.  And hey, it felt good to finally kick some ass on skinny tires!

I really doubt I’ll be doing any more triathlons in the near future, however.  First off, I need pool swims.  Second off, as much as I had fun it’s still really not my “thing.”  The bike portion was the only super enjoyable part, and I can look to time trials to accomplish the same thing.  I’m super proud of myself for registering and finishing a tri!  Maybe next year for the same event… 😉

Sorry for the never ending lack of updating… I’ve had a lot of blog ideas in mind, half written during my bike rides in my mind, only to never be written on the computer.  Which is sad, because I’ve gone on some pretty cool adventures, like Matt and I biking up Highway 130 to the Snowies!  And of course, I completely (purposely) did not do a race report (gasp!) on my LMBS Race #2, because it was spectacularly crappy from the start thanks to handlebar locking with two girls at the get go which caused me to never be part of the lead pack, and me blowing up chasing said lead pack after I unlocked myself from the gals at the start (I finished 7th out of like 22, ok ok, I know, it wasn’t that bad).

So here’s to make up for all my laziness!  Matt and I have been talking about riding this trail since last summer, and the idea popped into my head as we were debating riding up Mt. Evans yesterday for our day off together.  We both decided we didn’t feel like the long drive to Colorado, so I suggested the Medicine Bow Rail Trail instead, which is roughly 30-40 miles west of Laramie.

One of our first ever huge bike rides (for me at least) was on another rails-to-trail in South Dakota – the Mickelson Trail.  So we were excited to explore a similar trail in our own backyards!  What’s even neater is that as a kid I rode on the Excursion Train from Laramie to Fox Park, so who would’ve thought that many many years later I’d be biking it, right?  Always neat when your past crosses paths with your present 🙂

We arrived at the Dry Park Trailhead about 11am.  This trailhead is the only one on the trail system that doesn’t require a parking fee, but it is also the only one that is not marked, has no bathrooms, and honestly does not look like a trailhead.  It’s more of a large dirt parking lot off the side of the road.  I briefly drove past it, only to see the start of the trail to my left, so I put it in reverse!  This is the northernmost trailhead, and is 21 miles (though not exactly, it’s more like 22.5 miles due to the detour around Fox Park) from the southern end at Pelton Creek.  We changed into our cycling clothes and hit the trail.

Initially, we were not impressed or amused.  Sand greeted us.  Lovely lovely lovely sand.  We pedaled along at 7 miles per hour, and Matt and I agreed that if it stayed like this there was no way we would ride the whole trail.  Spoiled we were by Mickelson and it’s glorious hardpack gravel.  We chugged on through the sand and two miles later arrived at Lake Owen, where thankfully the trail turned to fast-rolling packed gravel.  YAY!!  At Lake Owen there were signs about the trail and also a caboose.  It’s clear that this is the more established northern trailhead, almost like Dry Park was an afterthought.

Without stopping we pedaled on.  There really was a complete lack of stopping and photo taking on this.  This was very much a “keep pedaling towards your goal” kind of trip.  Not to say the scenery is not gorgeous as you wind through the Medicine Bow National Forest!  The trail itself ranged from smooth packed gravel to softer areas nearly obscured completely by grass and wildflowers.  There are numerous ATV trail crosses with yield signs, and also the trail crosses Highway 230 one time.  Several gates are along the way as well to open and close.  Cows are here and there, and their poop is even more present.

The trail takes a detour when you reach Fox Park due to property rights disagreements.  I managed to get Matt and I lost during this time.  The map they provide is upside down from how you’d really want to read it (to me), and there’s a lack of signs when heading in the southern direction.  I took us in the completely opposite direction on FSR 512.  Luckily my little detour from the detour only added about 3 miles total, haha.  Soon we were back on the trail and cruising along.

For it being a Sunday/weekend, there was a refreshing lack of humans on the trail.  South of the Woods Creek Trailhead we encountered two equestrians, who we politely yielded to so they could pass.  And… well, that was all on the southern trip.  At Pelton Creek we gobbled down a McDonald’s apple pie each, and some Honey Stinger chews as the clouds spat rain drops on us.  Our nutrition on long rides is fantastically terrible, clearly.  I groaned when I had to get back on the bike, as my right knee ached (for the first time in months sadly) and I was tired.  Considering we were in BFE with no cell service, clearly the only choice was to get back on the bike and pedal for another 22.5 miles.  And that we did.

The return trip seemed to go by a lot faster, though it involved a lot of climbing from Pelton Creek.  That is one thing about rails to trails is the fact the climbs and descents are so gradual they’re really tricky in distinguishing sometimes!  (Unless you’re doing Mickelson… oh, I can tell the climbs beween Mystic and Hill City just fineeeee.)  We encountered our second group of humans just south of Fox Park, on ATVs no less… which are not allowed on the trail.  Ugh.  I made sure to hold my line, and they politely gave a wave and wide passing berth.  But still.  Ugh.

Matt and I got into a rhythm of just turning the pedals as the clouds turned darker.  Luckily we were never heavily rained on, considering the storm that pounded Laramie later rolled right over us.  The last two miles of sandy nastiness was made slightly better by the fact we were rolling down hill this time, but it still made us keep a tight grip on the handlebars as we wrangled our bikes through it.  All said and done it was a 47 mile round trip, and took 4 hours 31 minutes (including stop/rest time).  My Strava/Garmin showed I averaged 11.6 mph, which isn’t too shabby!

We enjoyed our little outing, and getting time in the saddle in a lame sense for Laramie Enduro training.  It was nice to mark something off the bucket list of places to ride, as well!  But mostly it just made Matt and I really eager to return to South Dakota for another go at the Mickelson Trail, which still remains our favorite.  Medicine Bow Rail Trail is good for that “OMG we’re in the wildness” feeling and feeling like you’re “roughing” it a bit more.

My Medicine Bow Rail Trail tips:

• Bring all the water you’ll need as there’s no place to refill along the trail except at Lake Owen, which may or may not have the water turned on.
• No road bikes.  This should be a given, but just in case someone wonders… cyclocross bike is doable I’d say, though there are some rough spots here in there, forging through grass, fallen trees which lead to either off roading it a bit or bunny hopping, and the roads in Fox Park in the detour are washboard.  I rode my full suspension Specialized Epic mountain bike.  I liked the squish, and don’t foresee a cyclocross bike excursion on this particular trail in my future.
• Bug spray and sunscreen.  Neither of which Matt nor I thought of using.
• Along the lines of the water, bring all the food you’ll need.  Plan ahead.  You’re really in BFE unless you jump on the highway to WyColo or bang on a cabin door.
• Start early to avoid the summer storms.  We lucked out and didn’t really run into much, however we did have jackets packed just in case.

Oh, and wildlife seen?  A single fox.  At least there were no scary moose encounters!  Or angry cows… these cows were totally terrified of me, for once.

I took today as a rest day as I was completely wiped out from the ride.  We ate at Texas Roadhouse for dinner and I completely annihilated Tater Skins, 4 or 5 of their rolls, 8 ounce steak, green beans, and mashed potatoes.  First time I’ve left without leftovers in a long time!  I was in bed asleep by 8pm… Today my legs were still a bit tired, sit bones still a bit sensitive so no bike.  I rode 100.3 miles last week, which was my second highest mileage week ever, and my body is telling me so!

And so things come full circle… A year ago next week I got the notion to do a mountain bike race.  Little did I know it’d be the start of something rather obsessive that would eat up my free time and day off requests.  I chuckled about this as I pulled into the Tie City parking lot last night for the start of the 2013 Laramie Mountain Bike Series.

The feelings of wanting to puking and run away?  Yep, they were sure there this time around!  I find it strange in a sense that I put so much importance on my local races, and therefore have such an increased nervousness about everything.  Maybe it’s because I know a lot of the people and have a certain expectation to exceed?  Who knows… but as usual I got there way too early.  At least this year I looked like a pro as I flipped over my bike and lubed my chain.  Last year I was sitting there thinking “Whoa, am I actually suppose to do that?!”  I made conversation with the guy that parked next to me.  Someone asked if I was racing Open, and I silently cursed my team kit for making me look like an Open class racer.  I sized up my female competition, recognizing some faces from last year and hoped I could hand them the butt-whooping that I so desired to.  I put on my number plate, horrified to find that it has 4 holes to attach it with, and I grabbed only 3 twist ties out of habit. 

Rode up to the outhouse, and then around the campground for a warm up.  Then back to the car for my gloves and glasses.  Then up to the starting line.  Nervous energy.  Impressed people with the 300 miles that I’ve put on my Fast Track tires as they were talking about their tires wearing out in 50.  Realized the Open gals also had yellow number plates.  Whew.  Before I knew it they were calling up the Intermediate/Advanced Women.  I got a second row line up and let out a big sigh.  It’s hard to be racing against the Big Girls when I only managed mid-pack Beginner results a year ago. 

GO.  I jumped out rather quickly without even trying.  Soon it was me and a gal named Wendy (who never finished lower than 2nd last year at the races) battling up the campground climb, which I mashed at a high cadence in my big ring.  Go me.  I took the lead and was the first through the gate onto Meadow.  What the hell… but what was refreshing is I didn’t have any of those doubt-filled feelings of my position like I have had at many other races this year.  Yeah, bee-yotches, I’m in first!  I remained in the lead until Upper UW, where Wendy zipped around me.  No feelings of panic and I settled in.  I could immediately tell she could actually descend, unlike me.  I’m still my brake-loving-take-the-corners-like-a-granny self, and I’m fine with that.  I knew there was lots of climbing to come.

We hit Aspen just about the time the Advanced Men started catching us.  Oh great, a bunch of adrenaline filled men with better skills than me zipping around all crazy on a technical descent.  One guy did wreck right in front of Wendy and I.  See, there’s a reason to descend like a granny…  we went to climb one of the hills on Aspen and my legs spun like crazy and it felt like I dropped my chain.  I let out some swear words (I’m quite the sailor when racing, even though I try not to be!), and stopped to look at my chain.  It was fine.  DAMMIT!  Two girls in my class got in front of me.  I was sad.  Stupid mistake.  I hopped back on the bike and pedaled like crazy to keep the girls in sight.  The descent was fast and I was holding on for dear life, trying not to look down at my Garmin at my speed.  No one needs to know they’re going 17mph on singletrack through a forest.  ‘Tis not necessary!

Before I knew it I splashed through the creek at the end of Haunted Forest and was on Old Happy Jack Road.  Two more stream crossing soaked my poor left foot and my butt, which left me really conscious that my kit might turn see through when wet.  I mean, no one wants to see a transparent blue kit with my uber white buns hanging out with a license plate across it announcing Spradley Barr Auto Group.  Considering nobody was giving me odd looks, I decided my blue shorts do not turn transparent, and I was safe.  I caught one of the girls that passed me, and I had a sigh of relief knowing I was sitting in 3rd.  Old Happy Jack Road is a light climb and then flat gravel road, so it was a good place to mentally prepare for the 7% grade climb of Middle Aspen coming up. 

I caught the 2nd place gal at the beginning of Middle Aspen and made a pass.  She passed me back.  I passed her again.  And finally it stuck.  I had to come off the bike twice for climbs due to the trails being littered with too much traffic to try to grunt out the climbs.  Major props to the dude on the singlespeed next to me, though it sounded like he was in utter pain with every pedal stroke.  Yeahhh, I’ll keep my gears, thank you!  I had a strange sense of “this climb isn’t really that bad” come over me, and I pushed through every pedal stroke.  I may or may not be guilty of eying my Georgia Gould autograph on my top tube for motivation.  At the top of Middle Aspen I was almost delusional as to where I was on the trail system, and didn’t even realize I was on Alder and on the home stretch of Lap 1.  Adler, Campground Bypass, it all flew by.  I powered up over the cement to the parking lot and was on my way for the second lap.

Proving my Big Girl status, I successfully drank from my bottle and stayed pedaling.  Damn, if that ain’t pro, I don’t know what is!  (Seriously, it’s so hard for me to coordinate my body to drink and pedal at the same time, don’t laugh!)  My legs screamed with more protest but I forced them to climb the Campground, Meadow, and the first half of Upper UW.  I felt some of my descending badass-ness coming back from last summer, and used the brakes a smidge less.  The second lap utilized the “short loop” so I had to cut off onto Rollercoaster and then down to Adler and yadda yadda.  I love Rollercoaster, and am in all intensive purposes the Queen of the Mountain on this segment Strava.  It is MY trail, dammit!  I kept playing cat and mouse with the same men from the their intermediate class, back and forth we would pass each other depending if it was a climb or a flat or a descent.  I didn’t have any women in front of me or behind me.  Coming up to Campground I saw the girl I had passed on Middle Aspen and briefly panicked thinking that she was on her final lap. 

The third and final lap was a repeat of Meadow, Upper UW, Rollercoaster, Adler, and Campground Bypass.  I almost ate it into a bush entering onto Rollercoaster, but saved it.  Whew.  I knew I was on the home stretch and it was all about staying on the bike in the upright correct position.  I briefly saw a girl in my class within eyesight behind me, and as I turned onto Campground Bypass I saw the look of seriousness from her.  Oh no, time to kick it into high gear!  I mashed the Bypass, scared she was catching me, though I heard male voices behind me.  I scrambled up the climb to the parking lot and went into panic sprint mode (still amazing how I can make my body do that when it’s clearly saying to me NO MORE PEDALING).  I crossed the finish with no other females in sight, nearly falling off my bike in an attempt not to puke everywhere. 

My stomach had the most horrible cramps and I didn’t want to move.  I was sure I was in 2nd, but not sure.  I didn’t want to celebrate too early.  I chatted with new-found friends, including the guy that hooked handlebars with me on Middle Aspen for about ten feet.  I told him no worries, it was like we were a side-by-side tandem bike!  People asked how I did and I hesitantly answered 2nd.  The guy parked next to me said he was pretty sure I was 2nd since he saw us all come around while trying to fix a flat tire.  I hobbled over to my car and readied the bike to be put away.  Then the death coughing started.  It was a rather dusty race, and my lungs were letting me know.  No one told me I had a very dark dirt streak connecting my eyebrows into a scary looking unibrow.  Way to go everyone, way to go…

I grabbed a DELICIOUS burger and corn on the cob from the Pedal House and settled into eating.  No more taking 2 hours to eat a burger like last year, as I devoured this one like a champ, or a pig.  You pick.  I was covered in dirt with a unibrow, ladylike features go out the window in these situations!  I hung out with Travis and fellow teammate Dave while waiting for results to be announced.  It started raining. 

Being the ever-professionals that they are, the organizers had the results loaded before they even did the raffle awards!  Indeed, I was called out as the second place finisher and I avoided doing a happy dance.  Holy crap, how did I go from midpack Beginner to 2nd place in Intermediate/Advanced?!?!?!?  I kicked major butt, including kicking the butts of the girls who kicked my butt in Beginner last summer.  I’m still confused by this.  I confided in Matt that I hope no one thinks I’m a doper.  He snickered.  LOL.

So there it is, a successful start to the LMBS.  Next week is race #2.  I should be at every race except for the one at the end of July that comes between Nationals and the Enduro.  I’m excited, but still nervous.  Admittingly, I feel like poop today and slept until 9am.  My lungs burn and are clogged with mucus, and my stomach still feels a bit wonky.  I was going to ride, but not sure that will be happening before I head back up for my work week.  Laundry calls to me, and the cat is swearing her food bowl is empty.  Such is a life of a fairly decent probably should upgrade her license to Cat 2 mountain bike racer chick 🙂

Oh man, what a crazy week it has been!  My BFF Kim flew out from South Carolina for a whole week of Wyoming shenanigans, and we indeed managed to keep quite busy!  We drove up to the top of the Snowies to Libby Flats in a horrendous wind storm, ate cake at 10,000 feet, fed buffalo at the Terry Bison Ranch, and stood in the parking lot of Casa Bonita.

Biggest thing we did all week was keep super active.  Kim goes to the gym daily and is a runner, so that made a good combination for keeping us both active.  We did a 3 mile hike on the Turtle Rock Trail in Vedauwoo.  I was able to test out my new Keen hiking shoes on that hike, and so far I am liking them!  I found a TYR swimsuit for an amazing deal at Sports Authority, so Kim and I hit up the pool twice.  I hadn’t swam in about 10 years, but found it was *LOL* like riding a bike.  Affirmed that I can actually swim 400 meters, I ended up registering for the Cheyenne Sprint Triathlon in July (eep).  We also did a few days of run-walk intervals since Kim’s half marathon training began the week she was here.  I managed to squeeze in one night on the bike, doing the Cheyenne Cycling Club’s time trial on Little Bear Road.  I came in dead last, but I met my two goals of beating my personal records (which I did by 7 minutes) and not letting my beast of teammate Shareen catch and pass me (sorry Shareen, but you’re just good motivation!).

We topped everything off with a 5k run in Westminster – the Blazing Bullets Trail Run.  I had no idea how it would go, but I figured at least I wouldn’t be winning anything.  I’ve never run 3 miles straight in my life, not even when I was running track (I was a sprinter and hurdler anyway).  Nearing the turn-around at 1.5 miles I was feeling good, and still running.  Kim told me to go on without her, and I did just that.  I kept going and going, telling myself that “after such and such I can walk.”  Well, turns out I never ended up walking and I ran the whole damn 5k!  My time was 33:50.85 officially (I was pretty jazzed, this was my first race of any kind using a chip timer and they had a kiosk where you could print your instant results – classy!).  Not fast, but I think pretty good for someone who just bought running shoes a month ago, right?  Well get this… I ended up 2nd place in my age category!! 19th among females, and 44th overall.  There were 93 entries in the 5k, so top half… I’ll take that!  I ended up getting a spiffy silver medal, which is the first medal I’ve ever earned – surprising it wasn’t on the bike, though!

I also ate a veggie burger for the first time while Kim was here (she is vegan).  I actually really enjoyed them!  I had a homemade one at Sweet Melisssa’s in Laramie, and then a Boca one at Red Robin.  I love how the veggies burgers didn’t leave me feeling lethargic, so I think it is something I will indeed add into my diet.  We also ate some amazing pizza at Mellow Mushroom in Centennial, CO on Kim’s last night.  I had a pizza with olive oil/garlic sauce, mozzarella, red potatoes, broccoli, onions, and cucumbers.  It was AMAZING.  I seriously could it it for every meal!  So food was definitely a highlight of the week, as I love food and it loves me and I got to eat lots of Mexican and yummy pizza.

Of course we sprinkled in the usual shopping and lounging.  I had 18 empties to trade in at MAC Cosmetics, so I netted 3 free eyeshadows.  I never wear makeup anymore aside from mascara, but still cannot resist all the pretty things inside of MAC!  though I’ve come to realize that I own most all of their permanent eyeshadow shades… I got to take Kim to REI, where I bought a Garmin Forerunner 910XT watch for swimming/running/walking/triathlons.  We also stayed up super late watching My Strange Addiction and Untold Stories of the ER episodes.

Overall, it was a super awesome week and I was so sad to drop Kim off at the airport!  I think she’s one of my few friends that “get” the cycling thing, and also still has other crazy interests similar to mine.  I miss her face!

After getting back from Denver, Matt and I headed up to Happy Jack for our first mountain bike ride of the season up there.  I felt like absolute crap.  My right sit bone has been incredibly painful since the TT, and it hurt to sit on my bike, along with the fact my legs didn’t want to work.  We still banged out 13 miles, including Death Crotch.  I was super pleased that I cleared the kicker of a climb that begins Death Crotch (when ridden west to east) along with the hhuuugggeee climb up to the summit.  I’ve never been able to ride those before, so it was quite pleasing!  I also set a new PR on the Pole Creek Trail climb.  Yesterday I decided to be a bum, and the hot weather wasn’t helping one bit.  Today I was ambitious and headed towards the mountains to escape the 90+ degree weather in Cheyenne, and was greeted by cool winds at Happy Jack and temps in the high 70s.  I pounded out 18 miles, and only really stopped because I was worried I’d get hungry and bonk.  Turns out I wasn’t as fast on the bike as I mentally thought I was, so I am still struggling with getting back into the Happy Jack terrain mode.  Funny, I end up becoming fast at Gowdy, and lose my fastness at Happy Jack…

Tomorrow night is another CCC time trial, and then back up to work I go.  Having 12 days off hasn’t done me any favors in wanting to return to work!  Luckily I know after my three shifts I have 4 days off and get to start racing in Laramie (and I am currently debating entering the KMC Classic in Colorado Springs on Sunday for one more USAC race) But I know the weeks will fly by, and soon we’ll be road tripping to Pennsylvania for Nationals – yikes!  Where has this summer gone?!

Oh boy, what a weekend!  I decided to combine the race reports, as I don’t have a lot to say about the PV Cycle Derby, and don’t have a lot of race photos from the Beti Bike Bash.

The PV Cycle Derby was another RME race, this time taking place at the Peaceful Valley Scout Ranch.  Yay for private trails on a boy scout ranch!  Definitely one of the more scenic races I’ve done, as it lacked any sort of suburbia feel and little boxes everywhere.  Instead you got pine forests, open prairie, and Pikes Peak.  I’ll take that!  I entered the 22 mile long cross country race, which was an early morning start for once. Therefore, I drove down to Denver after work, because who doesn’t like insanely long drives after work, right?  Stayed at La Quinta, and got to “sleep in” until 6am.  Sure beats 4am, I suppose.  I left my Garmin 510 at the hotel, which I realized halfway through the hour long drive to the scout ranch.  Racing unplugged, ok!

Right from the start my body said NO.  I felt slow and sluggish, and the apple cinnamon Hammer gel I ate wasn’t playing nicely with my gastrointestinal tract (yeah yeah, don’t try new food before racing… I know…).  The pace was silly fast right from the start, unlike Battle the Bear.  So I settled back and just started treating it like a ride.  I had no idea where I was placement wise, but I knew it was off in the back, though I would pass some XC men time to time.

Race was on gravel roads, two track, and singletrack.  A lot of of the technical singletrack was really loose and powdery, which sucked.  I ended up off the bike more than I felt like I should’ve been.  I started to get really clumsy and tired feeling.  The type of feeling that causes me to run into trees for no reason.  I really felt like a spazz, haha.  One girl that was behind me for over half the race I finally let around me in my delirium, even though she didn’t want to because she said I was too powerful on the flats to keep up with 😀

I finally managed to eat a gel while riding the bike, giving my left brake handle some gel to munch on too.  Finally I was on the home stretch, and I knew for sure as I passed a guy with a Garmin so I could ask him how many miles we had ridden (it was driving me nuts not having a GPS in front of me!).  Last 3 miles were actually some fun stuff, but being so tired I found myself walking a lot of otherwise rideable stuff.  I didn’t even have the energy to do my normal happy sprint to the finish.  I cross the finish in less than 2 hours 30 minutes, and immediately ate watermelon and stumbled off to my car.  I figured I was way off the podium, so no need to stick around.  Turns out I got 2nd in my age category and 8th overall.  Boo!

Sunday was the Beti Bike Bash, which is hands down one of the best races I have ever attended!  The Beti Bike Bash is in it’s 4th year and is an all-women mountain bike race held at Bear Creek Park in Lakewood.  Awesome vendor tents, pink outhouses, fast trails, and Georgia Gould.  Woohoo!

Teammate Amy and I signed up for the Beginner’s 30-39 race.  I was unsure if my body/legs would show up after the previous days torture fest, so 8 miles sounded good.  I told my fellow Fort Follies I’d either sandbag the crap out of the beginner’s race, or totally get my ass kicked.  I got a nice front row starting spot, after they tried to put me in the 19-29 race, saying my age was wrong.  After assuring them I was 30 in race age (at Peaceful Valley they also questioned me being 30, so it was beginning to creep me out… seriously, I’d rather race 19-29, they’re slower!), we all lined up.  Immediately a girl took off like a bat out of hell, so I stuck myself to her rear tire, and we effectively demolished the rest of the field at the start of the race.  Happy to be racing on trails that I had already raced on, I jumped around her on the first double track chance for the lead.  About half the first lap she stuck to me and then I lost her.  And that whole strange “I’m leading the race” feeling set in.  I almost biffed it coming onto the gravel road for the big climb to the start line, but saved it with a quick foot.  I saw Lauren from Fort Follies and yelled “I’m in first again, and still don’t know why”  LOL

Second lap started and I was alone in regards to people from my class.  I passed quite a few racers from the Never Ever class on climbs, and soon enough my 8 miles were coming to an end and I was on the final gravel climb.  At the top of the hill my legs screamed and I struggled to get started on a sprint.  Finally across the finish line in a bit over 37 minutes, and I grabbed my finisher’s socks.  I love socks!

Awesome race, and I was pleased with my results.  I must admit, halfway through  my race I really felt like a sandbagger.  Team kit, expensive bike, 56 seconds ahead of the field…

Amy rolled in at 6th place.  We were hanging out and Amy nudged me and said, “Look right in front of you.”  I started looking all around and had no idea what Amy was talking about.  So Amy finally went “Oh my god, Georgia Gould is standing in front of you and you have no idea!”  OMG OMG OMG.  LOL.

Georgia Gould is hands down one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met.  She is super friendly and down to earth.  I actually managed to form some sentences and tell her how she’s a big inspiration to me and asked for a photo and to have my bike signed.  Usually I can’t do that around people, haha!  Then I was talking about my race, and she called me a sandbagger.  Which was awesome.  Because we all know I need to upgrade to Cat 2 and do intermediate+ level races.  So now I gotta, cuz Georgia called me a sandbagger!  She told me a story about how she entered beginner in her first race and blew everyone away.  Even more awesome, Georgia knew some things about me from Facebook, like that I lived in Wyoming and raced the day before.  LIKE WHOA AWESOME!  I whipped out the Sharpie I actually raced with in my back pocket, and she autographed the top tube of my Epic, and told me anytime I was struggling I could look down and know that she has been in the same place many times.  Now how cool is that for motivation, right?  My front tire went flat during all of this, so once again the goatheads stuck at Bear Creek Park…

My life now complete due to talking to Georgia, Amy and I waited around for podium.  Which was a sketchy cooler I would have to stand on.  I was super jazzed, as I was finally sticking around for the podium (IHBC didn’t have one, and at Ridgeline Rampage I took off early).  I got a winner’s swag bag, and awesome wine glass trophy.  Which was slightly scary, as I’m clumsy and it was fragile, but I did make it safely home with it.

So Beti Bike Bash… I will DEFINITELY be there next year!  Super awesome event, awesome goodies, awesome course (minus the goatheads), and awesome environment.