S4: E4: #cxnats Course Pre/Review

Our typical nationals strategy is to partake in the B races, see how the course shapes up and then attempt to predict how the course will shape up based on weather predictions through the week. Usually the courses see continual degradation as the week progresses and the ruts get ruttier earlier in the day on each progressive day.

This year the course is going to be a mess from the start.

Early morning and still solid

The first B race this year was at 9:30am, with nearly a perfectly frozen course. The corners were sketchy, there was soft snow in places, but really the course was sort of predictable and very little mud on the bikes after this race. By the 10:30am race that was changing very, very rapidly and by the 3:00pm single speed race it had started to refreeze.

Refreeze you say? At 3pm?

Before we all got here Wisconsin was cold - like really cold. Up to three weeks in advance of us arriving the the temps struggled to get into the 20s and the tundra froze to a solid state. Whether those of us who only visit Madison on the first full week of January want to admit it, the temps really are typically very cold in January. The air temperatures aren't really the deciding factor on the surface area of the ground thawing, but rather the sunlight. Where there is ample sunlight there is thawing. As soon as that sunlight dips to an acute angle, things start to refreeze.

The kicker of this is that the low temperature for Thurday night and Friday night is in the mid-30s - but it won't matter. The ground is so frozen a lot of the areas will freeze back up as soon as the sun is gone - that snow layer is protecting the ground from thawing.

But it gets better.

Mid-day thaw - some water appearing

On top of very frigid temperatures, they got about 18" of snow. The course is plowed in its entirety from the start to the finish, leaving a 8"-18" berm, depending on location, along the course on both sides. At first it looks like Cottonelle tissue stacked and lining the course to prevent any injuries should you run astray from your intended target. While it is softer than the ground below it, it is creating a different problem - it is also thawing. In places this thaw is creating a  flow of liquid along the course, over the course, down hills, essentialy the path of least resistance. In the final 3:00pm course some of these areas were freezing and becoming slick while the race was in progress.

But, wait, there is more.

More you say? Sure, there is also rain in the forecast. Mid-30s, a solid breeze at 15-20 mph, and rain. What will rain do to course already surrounding by a large amount of frozen water? Worst case scenario planning has the Lionheart coaches heading to the local bait-n-tackle shop for some 40 lb test line, a rod and reel suitable for a Marlin, and a quick refresher on big game fishing. With a lot of rain this place will be undoubtedly wet and definitely deeper in mud.

What will it be like during my race?

Late day thaw with a stream of water

Who knows. Seriously, planning tires for the course right now is like sticking a dollar in a slot machine in Vegas - odds are not in your favor. Your tire of choice may work at the start, then be awful at the end. You also probably won't find a tire that works for the whole course. The shady parts continue to be snow/ice, the sunny parts have surface mud and very slippery, and the parts only partially in the sun are refreezing.

My perspective is that the focus may not be on the surface, but rather the solid underlayer. The much that does exist is not deep, and the ground seems colder and more frozen than last year, so odds are that it will stay frozen longer. Target the base, get a tire that makes you feel good, lower the pressure as low are your eardrums can handle and go for it.

Partial shade = half and half

Puddle of thaw beginning to refreeze

Apparently this is a sand pit

Black ice waiting to happen

Choosing Cycling Socks: Win with Pearl Izumi

Win Pearl Izumi Socks Below

Admit it.  When you ride past a store window you look at your reflection, your flat-backed position, your dandy color coordinatedness.  In your best Dave Chappelle voice you shake your head and say, “Mmm.  Damn.  I’m one fine looking two-wheeled specimen.”  Like fly-fishing, cycling is half fashion show.  Rolling past Cincinnati’s Verdin bell and clock factory on Riverside Drive, I checked myself out in the reflection of the blacked out windows.  Holy hell!  My socks were as hideous as rubber waders.  Tall white socks with light blue stripes stuck out of the top of my red accented jet black Pearl Izumi shoes like aero bars on a group ride.  It was a triple-snap-clash sista. 

My Team Jersey

Getting ready for a work meeting, my wife stands in front of the full length mirror.  She kicks off one pair of shoes for another, keeps the bag, but ditches the belt.  She asks if the shirt looks better tucked in a little or a lot.  “A little tucked in,” I answer.  There’d be a lot less dorky looking male cyclists if they took a tip from a primping business woman and wheeled their entire ensemble (bike, shorts, jersey, helmet, shoes, sunglasses and all) in front of a full length mirror. 

Drunk Artist Rendering of Perfect Sock

Instead of learning from my wife, my fashion feeble man brain thought I needed tall blue cycling socks…you know, to match my blue and white BioWheels team kit.  I typed the exact phrase into the image search of Yahoo.  Magically 300 pictures of tall blue socks appeared in every shade, length and color combination imaginable.  Row by row, page by page, I dismissed every last one of them as too aqua, too tall for UCI, not enough style.  I went so far as to drink 3 beers and design the perfect sock with Microsoft Crayon 2.0.

I was Mister Pitt, Elaine’s incessantly picky boss in a sock buying episode of TV’s Seinfeld.  He screams, “I want a decent sock that’s comfortable THAT WILL STAY ON MY FOOT!”  Mister Pitt proves what has eluded scientists for centuries.  The fashion part of the male brain can only decipher two variables, in his case, comfort and tightness.  Shorts match jersey.  Bar tape matches bike.  Socks match team kit.  Throw in patterns, design, helmets, shoes, gloves and glasses and the male fashion brain drops to its knees like Elaine, covers its head and screams away the impending frustration induced aneurism.  Hence, most men end up with two pair of work shoes, black and brown. 

Socks Bridge Jersey & Shorts to Shoes & Bike

Two pair of shoes!  That was the key right there.  I have two pairs of cycling shoes.  My road shoes are black with red accents (at left).  My MTB shoes are white with green accents.  My shoes match my bikes.  I needed socks that bridge the gap between team kit and my bike and shoes.  Like my wife’s belts, shoes and bags, cycling socks tie the ensemble together.  I virtually rolled each look in front of the full length mirror.  I ended up choosing three pair of socks, one for each look …road, cyclocross and mountain. 

WIN THREE PAIR OF SOCKS FROM PEARL IZUMI:

1-Consider your three favorite cycling looks: road, mountain, cyclocross.

2-Click here and choose 3 pair of Pearl Izumi socks to complete your outfits.

3-Post a comment with your 3 choices (style/color/size) by 11:59p 7/25/12.

RULES OF THE ROAD: Winner will be chosen randomly from all entries.  “Anonymous” comment entries will not be considered.  Please be aware that we’ll need to get in touch with you, so include an email in your profile and/or “like” us on Facebook so we can get in touch with you if need be.  Winner will be announced on 7/26/12.  Good luck and thanks for reading!

#Injinji Toe Socks & Freak Toes

Toe Socks Take Some Coaxing With Freak Toes

“Get the camera.  Quick!”  Close to tears, my wife and I were laughing like kids who secretly stuck a price tag on mom’s butt at the grocery store.  I was putting Injinji Lightweight Mini Crew toe socks on my crooked toe feet for the first time.  Lesson #1: as you can see in the picture, toe socks take a little work, more if genetics prevented your toes from growing perfectly parallel to your feet.  Putting on toe socks is not as American fast food quick as slipping on regular socks.  It’s more like putting on a dozen pair of socks, one on each foot, one on each toe.  While they slowed down my time getting out the door, they refreshingly kept my piggies from fighting each other in my Pearl Izumi Peak II running shoes.

Click Here To Visit Injinji.com

Scott at the PR firm that handles Injinji Performance Toe Socks had his reservations.  He intrigued me by writing, “We also just started working with Injinji socks.  While toe socks might not be top of mind for cycling, they may have some crossover benefits for cyclocross.”  I looked down at my freaky feet and raised an eyebrow.  This guy has no idea how weird my feet are.  But I thought, if toe socks keep ‘em separated, they could be perfect for cyclists with less than perfect piggies that rub and bite each other.  I can’t think of another sport that requires wearing the same shoes for 4, 5, 6 hours at a time.  So rather than risk the perils of new footwear on a century ride, I decided to test them with running shoes first, a 4-miler through the hills out Cincinnati’s Mt. Lookout neighborhood.  My Offspring hypothesis that “you gotta keep ‘em separated” was correct.

If you look at my feet, (go ahead, swallow back that puke and take a quick peek), my little toe and ring toe, the Cashews, like to hide behind their neighbors.  My index toe is ghastly skinny and hammer cocked to the outside like Amy Winehouse before rehab.  My big toe was obviously transplanted from Fred Flintstone’s foot.  While I thankfully inherited my mother’s drive for exercise and health, the trade off was my father’s bent toes.  So, when I looked at the toe sock, with its perfect little symmetrical toes, I shook my head thinking this is going to be as comical as trying to fit in my wife’s sweatshirt.  It took a minute or two, but I managed to work every toe into his little sock.    

My Freak Toes Almost Look Normal in Toe Socks

Sure wearing gloves on your feet feels weird at first, but after a block or two in the shoes I felt myself saying, “These feel pretty good.”  2 ½ miles in, I had forgotten I was wearing toe socks.  I realized my toes weren’t sweat sticking to their neighbors.  The nail of one toe couldn’t bite his brother.  Whether perceived or actual, my feet felt noticeably cooler, maybe akin to gloves being less warm than mittens.  The toe box of my shoes felt noticeably more soft and smooth as if there was less rubbing between the shoe and toes.  I’ll reserve cycling judgment for another time, but given my first experiment, I’ll likely choose the toe socks next time I go out for a summer run, hike or walk.

Soigneur For Hire

Excerpt From CyclingNews.com

Ka-rack!  Lightning struck the high rise condo building which looms over our backyard along the Ohio River.  While I was sort of disappointed my wish didn’t come true and Thor once again missed the ugly dead tree in our neighbor’s overgrown yard, I was happy to be taking care of domestics.  I’m my own soigneur. 

Domestics is a term coined by a former teammate, a civil way of saying, “I’ve named the dust bunnies in my living room.”  He used it as a reason he couldn’t ride, but think he had it sort of backwards.  I save the domestics for when I can’t ride, like last night.  That’s what cyclists do when it rains.  In a sport that more or less depends on fair weather to enjoy, there’s a reason to smile when it rains.  While it may be close to crawling away on its own, the VW Beetle sized pile of dirty clothes at the foot of your bed isn’t going to wash itself.

I wrangled the recyclables and cleaned the cat boxes.  It was 5:45pm.  With black clouds creeping closer, raindrops tapped on the windows.  Normally on a Tuesday, I’d be filling water bottles and searching for the ever elusive taillight.  Like a bad friend cancelling a date, the rain waits to fall 30 minutes before the group ride starts.  At least I saw it coming on radar.  I had an hour or more to kill before there’d even be a chance to clip in.

Click Here to see more sweet Trail Runners from Pearl Izumi

As the Channel 9 meteorologists advised people in the northern suburbs to take their “tornado safe place” over footage of flood water pouring down Eden Park’s public steps, I man-sorted jeans & t-shirts, whites and delicates into three relatively separate piles.  I found my long lost Smithwick socks under the bed.  Back upstairs, I emptied the dishwasher.  Looking back at the TV and using my superior storm tracking cycling senses, I saw a break between storms and deduced I had about a 40 minute window.  Not long enough for a ride, so I stuffed a load in the washer and tied the laces on my Pearl Izumi Peak II’s.  By the time I'd come back from back from my run, it'd be perfect timing to get the load in the dryer.  On the way out for a flat 5k, I wheeled the recycling to the curb.  While I’ll never go pro, I’d have a solid career as a pro cycling team soigneur.

Goodbye Town Line Sprint, Hello #Strava

I taste what you call “Strava Glory.”  It’s sort of a sweet & salty mix of GU Energy gels and sweat combined with the odor of burning 350 dollar bills.  The Best Bike Blog EVER is now on Strava, sits on top of a Leaderboard and has a crown to prove it.  Better check your segments to see if you got knocked down a rung.  Ba bam!  Judo chop!

The problem is, I’m sort of having trouble squeezing my big head into my tiny .jpeg crown.  Still, I make no apologies for spending the equivalent of a week’s worth of family groceries on a GPS enabled cycling computer.  My Polar passed away and I enjoy a team discount.  So while you were out racing for real on Sunday, we went segment hunting in Northern Kentucky with my new Garmin Edge 500.

After the ride, unlike most people I know on Strava.com, I was able to toss my kit in the wash, take a shower, make a recovery shake and eat lunch before downloading my first ride file.  I know better.  While standing naked with their I-phone between their legs, sadly those who are addicted will find out there is not an App to cure jock itch and saddle sores.

Prior to our Sunday morning adventure, I virtually scouted segments of our planned ride.  In a way Strava turns the sport of cycling into a video game.  That sort of bothers me.  It brings cycling one step closer to Farmville.  You scoff at the ridiculousness of people paying real money for virtual world real estate, but yesterday I wondered what it would’ve taken for my teammate to sit up 10 meters from the top and let me have the segment?  Damn.  I drilled it with all I had.

There are no rules on Strava.  Segments aren’t asterisked with “drafted behind bus” or motor-paced by Vespa.  Sunday we returned favors, a lead-out for a lead-out.  That’s fair game I think.  Lead-outs are part of cycling.  But the next time we crest Amsterdam Road, I wonder how I’ll play it.  And it irks me that I’m even thinking of this.  Will I defend it?  Or, will I offer up some Strava currency to save my crown, an inner tube or air cartridge, a Coca-Cola or Snickers at the convenience store, a buck slid in the right hand jersey pocket.

The great thing about winning good ol' wooden town line sprints is enjoying the moment of glory among your peers.  As I log in and check the leaderboard on this 80 degree March day, I’m worried Strava is stretching the moment too far.  

Cinti #FightforAirClimb, Any Monkey Can Win

Except if I was late to work, I never ran up a single flight of stairs.  The longest “run” I’ve done since Christmas is 90 seconds.  I’m not rubbing it in or bragging about finishing tied for 3^rd at the American Lung Association's Fight for Air Climb at Cincinnati's Carew Tower.  Aside from giggling at my dumb luck, I am pointing out that “run” and “stairs” are not the operative words.  Climbing the Carew Tower is not about running stairs.  It’s pretty much climbing like a monkey, a very fit and determined monkey. 

Me 2nd from Right with the Rewind 94.9 Rump Shakers

Climbing is the operative word.  In fact, I’m pretty certain I heard a hair raising cackle echo in the stairwell on my way up that gave me chicken skin.  “Ooh ooh ah ah ah ahhh!” No doubt I am half man, half monkey.  Ask my wife.  If I could’ve clawed the handrails and walls with my feet, I would have.  Now I’m not saying it was easy.  To the contrary, it was donkey wheezing, sniveling, spastic arms flailing being chased the boogie man hard.  Bounding is a good term.  Tree-squirreling would be another.  It was not pretty, but fast and effective.

Evil Monkey in Full-Effect

Aside from finding a similarly tight stairwell with handrails within reach on both sides, the 2^nd best training would be boarding a cruise ship as it pulls away from port.  You’re not running a gangway so much as getting from the dock to the ship before the rope-railed gangway goes crashing into the ocean.  The 3^rd best training would be running from an axe murderer in your basement.  You would not run.  You would not step on the stairs.  With your heart rate pegged at max you would go from basement to 1^st floor by whatever means possible, a foot on a wall, a hand on a pipe.  If you must run stairs, the closest analogy is running the pedestrian stairs over an overpass...as it crumbles onto the freeway below.  That is the Fight for Air Climb.

Secret Weapons

As it turns out for me, cyclocross bike racing was a near perfect training.  You don’t run up the stairs.  Hands reaching and grasping, you pull your way up, your feet cross-eye aimed at two steps higher.  Look at the position of a cyclist.  Handlebars become handrails.  Pedals are two-stairs high.  In cyclocross and mountain bike racing, we’re used to getting the “holeshot”, first into the first corner with quick fast twitch speed, trying to essentially eliminate your competition by the first turn.  Most races are all about the first lap, the first 7 to 7.5 minutes of the race.  My time at Climb The Carew was 6:27.  I trained for the Cyclocross Masters World Championships in January with months of 30 and 15 second sprint intervals.  Obviously, some of that fitness is still with me.  The cycling training success fits the advice Marty Sanders, 2012 Vertical Mile Winner, gave me before the start.  He said, “Take two stairs at a time, use the hand rails, don’t run and give ‘er hell when you hit the hallway with 15 stories to go.”  Marty is also an accomplished cyclist and half monkey as well.

I’m not kidding.  I don’t think I could race a 5k without being laid up with sore hammies for two days.  To confess, I have been running, if you want to call it that.  I “run” on a treadmill.  My fastest and longest run is 90 seconds at 7.5mph.  High speed intervals.  In my head I run like Jason Bourne for 90 seconds, and then walk for a minute.  In reality I run like I'm escaping a house fire and walk like a zombie.  Then I do it over and over again for about 15 minutes.  That’s it.

The Next Best Thing to Monkey Feet

I will confess.  I did inadvertently have a secret weapon, maybe two, okay 3.  It was chilly, so I wore a thin set of full-finger gloves on a short jog from my car the Carew Tower.  Made for cycling, they had sticky grippers on the palm and fingers, perfect for gripping handlebars and as it turns out 45 stories of railings.  I wore a pair of tall day glow green tall striped socks (pictured above).  They make me go fast to run away from the heckling.  Oh yeah, and I just got a new pair of Pearl Izumi Peak II trail running shoes.  They’re light, have a snug and soft close fit, and are the perfect color of blue.  While most running shoes might come close to those attributes, the killer grip of Pearl Izumi's sole stands out.  No matter where my feet happened to land, I didn’t slip once, obviously the next best thing to having monkey feet.

Quit Making Fun of my #LobsterClaw Mittens

As Big As A Cat and Just as Warm

(Joe Biker Note: I'm out shopping for holiday gifts.  Until I find something you'll really like, please enjoy this updated little morsel and possible gift idea from the archives.  Our Cyclocross Calendar sponsor Pearl Izumi has some great Lobster Claws mitts, check 'em out here.)


They’ve been called Camel Toe Mitts, Dinosaur Paws, and, (using my Scooby Doo pronunciation) Robster Craws.  They’re nearly the size of a small housecat, 3 times the size of the gloves you wear in summer and, I-tunes be damned, crafted when the grunge of Pearl Jam and Nirvana first hit the radio.  They’re my circa mid 1990’s Performance brand Purple anodized parts-matching Lobster Claw cycling mittens.  Using the term as loosely as possible, this past weekend on the regular Cincinnati Saturday morning club ride, I got tons of "compliments" on them, such as, "What the F&*% are on your hands?"

Gloves? I Say, "Hand Blanket!"

For booger freezing cold weather riding, there is no better glove.  These are the best winter mitts EVER!  Don’t even try to compare.  I’ve ridden through Ohio & Wisconsin winters in these with wind chills that’d make your teeff loosen and fall out.  Sure Pearl Izumi's may be more fashionable, but nothing makes your group ride buddies say, "oh jeez, who brought the Fred to the ride" like a wave with a purple dinosaur paw.  There's probably a fetish website dedicated to the love of Lobster Claws.  If not, I'm starting one.  Sadly "HotLobster.com" is already taken.  Fortunately for your cycling buddies, they don't make 'em like this anymore.  Like dinosaurs, a dying breed nearing extinction. 

They’re fatter than Wendy William’s twin sisters, and therefore lack a bit in dexterity.  However, if you install an Idiot Strap to your jacket, you can pull them off mid-ride and easily reach bare handed into your jersey pocket.  You hand will smoke with steam when your bare hand hits the cold air.

Id-ee-ott Strap: (noun) A buckled or sewn strap, commonly found in Wisconsin, Minnesota, Michigan and North Dakota that mommy uses to physically tie your mittens to your jacket, so you don’t loose your gloves in the freezing cold like a 3 year old idiot.

Expedition Quality

They’re as thick as boxing glove; the top surface is a pillow of warm filler impenetrable to any wind.  Pull ‘em on and you immediately feel like the heavyweight champion of the world.  There’s not just a terry cloth snot wiper on the thumb, there’s an entire beach towel which makes up 2/3 of the top surface area.  Not only can you wipe snot, in case of a wreck you could clot a gaping wound with the left hand mitt and use the right in case you need to take care of “business” at the same time.

15 years and Still Steaming Hot

I should’ve got out the tape measure, but I’m certain you can see from the photos that they practically go up to your elbows.  So, I exaggerate.  There’s enough room inside to stick both hands in one, or easily pull them over the lower arms of your thickest winter jacket.  You could probably wear them as slippers or an insert for your Crocs. 

Dinosaur Track or Mitten Print?

Most people call them Lobster Claws, but a Lobster claw this big would fetch a world-record market price at the best steakhouse.  I prefer Dinosaur Paws, because that’s what the tracks look like when you fan out the 3-fingers and make tracks at the MTB trail head to freak out other Wisconsin trail users.  “Hey dere honey, we bedder not hike here.  Looks like dere’s a ferocious dinosaur at this trail.”

Rachel Reviews: #PEARLiZUMi Base Layers

Meet Rachel.  She's romped Sedona singletrack, cruised county roads in Summit County Colorado, and hiked in B.C.  You might run into her in the pilates and yoga studio.  She's got a corral of bikes and a closet full of gear.  Of course, there's always room for more.  She's also my wife and this is Rachel Reviews: Pearl Izumi P.R.O. Baselayers. 


A windy cold day should not be a reason to skip a bike ride and camp out on the couch watching TV.  Having the right clothing for days when the mercury drops is important and can make a huge difference in how much you enjoy your ride.  With a chilly Saturday and a warmer Sunday, this past weekend in Cincinnati was perfect to test both my new Pearl Izumi base layers. 

P.R.O. Barrier LS

Pearl Izumi P.R.O. Barrier is a base layer with a built in wind barrier added to the front.  It's almost like having a light vest and a base layer all in one.  I wore this long sleeve base layer on the regular Saturday club ride out of Oakley.  With a 9am start, temps in the mid 40's and winds gusting up to 25mph, I knew I had the perfect garment for fall/winter riding.  The double layer front panel completely blocked the wind.  I was actually too hot!  The fit is very good (true to size) and the contoured cut of the wind barrier near the waist matched the cut of my bibs, no bulk.  I prefer Raglan angle cut sleeves, but I think I'll appreciate the wind-blocking material on my shoulders during the winter.

P.R.O. Transfer

Sunday afternoon was slightly warmer with temps in the mid-to-high 50's.  On the out and back along the Ohio River and around the local time trial route in Cleves, I wore the Pearl Izumi P.R.O. short sleeve Transfer base layer.  Pearl Izumi describes the material as Minerale.  I gotta say, I love it.  It's soft and wicks sweat very well.  The short sleeve base layer fits great and has the Raglan sleeves (thank you) and contrast stitching.  Both the long and short sleeve base layers have this awesome fabric, subtle branding and high quality construction. 


I highly recommend these base layers and suggest you add these to your xmas gift list.  Your mom, dad, or significant other will feel good about giving you something to keep you warm on those cold winter days.


Happy Riding!  

Win a Hydrapak for Your Next Adventure

See The Cool Packs at Hydrapak.com

CONTEST ENDED: 
Congrats to Nate!  He chose the Hydrapak Soquel!  Thanks for reading.


Last week I wrote about my trip to Park City Utah where I goosed a moose on the Mid Mountain Trail, ran into pro rider and PC resident Evan Hyde, and at the end of a four hour ride, stuffed an entire six pack of Full Sail Ale in my Hydrapak Morro at the state liquor store and rode back to our condo.  Hydrapak liked it so much, they picked up the story on their blog AND offered up a chance for you to win a Hydrapak for your next adventure.  Sa-weet corn!

To win: Click, Choose and Comment

1) CLICK here and visit the hydration packs page of the Hydrapak website

2) CHOOSE a model you’d like to take on your next adventure

3) COMMENT!  Come back to this post and leave a comment explaining the Hydrapak model you chose and why.  Of course, creativity is always encouraged.  However, we’ll draw a random winner from all the comment entries to win a Hydrapak. 

Fine Print: Deadline for entries is Midnight October 12^th, 2011.  Anonymous comments will not be considered.  It's not a rule, but to help us get in touch with you if you were to win, please try to link an email address to the profile you choose to enter with.  Winner will be drawn and contacted October 13^th, 2011.  Winner will be announced October 14th, 2011 both here and on our Facebook page.  Click here to like us, especially if you don't link an email to your comment profile.  Good luck and thanks for reading The Best Bike Blog EVER!

Hydrapak Morro: One World - One Pack

"Groceries"

Paper or plastic?  “I’m good.  I think I can get it all in my pack,” I answered at the checkout at the state liquor store in Park City Utah after our four hour ride.  As she swiped my credit card, I pulled the micro brew bottles out of the six pack holder and stuffed them into my new Hydrapak Morro.  While the people behind me in line waited patiently for me to bag my “groceries,” I wrapped one beer in my vest, two in each of my arm warmers, set all six above the first aid kit, slid my map and the cardboard six-pack holster along side of the pump, tucked in my full-fingered gloves, zipped and cinched it up and swung it on my shoulders.  They were astonished.  I rode off.

2012 Morro

It was probably a four mile ride back to our condo at the Canyons Resort.  Sure it felt a little heavy, because now I had a six pack and a good 30ml of water in that thing with tools and Band-Aids and clothes and a puppy and my wallet and phone and energy bars and a 29er tube and a bottle of ibuprofen, but everything balanced out.  It wasn’t a chore to ride.  Did I say puppy?  For the record, I did not stuff a puppy in my backpack, but if I had to, there was room to lash one to the outside if need be, probably two.

Mid Mountain Trail Above Park City

I’m the last guy on Planet Mountain Bike to actually like a big pack.  A Hydration backpack to me was the equivalent of straight jacket made from hot wet monkeys.  The crazy thing is I have one of the smallest possible, an older Camelback Rocket with a 50oz reservoir.  I can’t tell you how many times I’d swear, “I’m never riding with this thing again!”  And, I didn’t.  I used to pride myself on minimalism, even on epic rides in Pisgah and Tsali.  I’d take bottles, use a seat pack and my jersey pockets, tape a 2^nd tube to my stem, and tuck food under my short and sleeve hems.  If necessary, I’d reduce first aid and tools to the most extreme basics: a chain pin, a tri-allen wrench, a tiny chain tool CO2, 3 big band aids and a 3oz tube of Neosporin…anything to avoid the hot wet monkey straight jacket.

I used to think Camelback was the only option with their specialized bite valve and oversized filling hole.  The Hydrapak is just as innovative, albeit different.  For one, the Hydrapak reservoir is a zip-lock bag of sorts.  On our Utah trip my wife used her Camelback.  I think my Morro was easier to fill.  She had to sort of let the camel drink, while I poured 2 32oz Gatorades down the Hydrapak’s neck with a quick ker-sploosh, added a tray of ice cubes and zipped it closed.  With Camelback’s we’ve always had to awkwardly hang them upside down on a hanger with a paper towel stuffed inside so air could circulate and dry out the reservoir.  To clean and dry, the Hydrapak reservoir folds inside-out and the plug and play drinking tube simply unclicks from the bag.  On the bike, the neat-o magnet on the drinking tube allows the tube to magically return itself to its stored position after you drink.  No more getting slapped in the knee or baffed in the chin with an unwieldy tube. 

Hydrapak Avila

If you haven’t had a new pack in a while, The HydrapakMorro is nothing like the bulky pack you had even 5 or 6 years ago.  While a larger pack, at a stout 1lb 13oz, the Morro is extremely versatile.  (Wienies may want to check out the Avila pictured left weighing a scant 7 ounces while still having a pocket and a 70oz bladder) The man-sized Morro even makes a nice gear bag.  Pre or post ride, it’ll easily fit your kit, shoes, tools, tube and helmet.  Whether packed light or full, the Morro feels surprisingly light thanks to the vented back padding and secure cinching straps.  I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if there were a rather unsupported 5+ hour ultra endurance event, I’d be tempted to race with it.  Maybe.

Morro's Magnet in use at Stewart Falls - Sundance, Utah

Packed full, on a 5 ½ hour navigation of Park City’s famous Mid-Mountain trail I never felt bothered by having a ton of stuff on my back.  I even scored extra hubby points by carrying my wife’s tools and tube.  I still climbed awkward switchbacks and zipped through rock gardens as easily as if I wasn't wearing a pack.  Off the bike, I used it on a quick day hike to Stewart Falls in Sundance with nothing more than a first aid kit, a long sleeve shirt, an energy bar and 50oz of water inside.  With a smaller payload, you simply cinch up the Hydrapak Morro and it feels like a smaller lighter pack.  So, if you come across an orphaned puppy on the trail, no problem, he can ride shotgun. 


Check out the video below for more on the Morro.

Challenge Limus: The Waffle Making Miracle Tire

It’s August 26th.  Do you know where your Limus Is?  It’s the greatest thing since the first hipster picked up a hacksaw, it’s the Challenge Limus.  The way cyclocrossers are snatching up this new mudder, you’d swear it could cook Belgian waffles on Sunday mornings.  From all the hype I’m not entirely convinced it wasn’t originally an Apple product, the iTire.  Seriously hup-hupsters, it’s a tire…not the 2^nd coming.

Mythically speaking, Limus is sort of a god, the personification of starvation and hunger.   It also means mud, slime or muck.  Combined, Limus is a Greek God hungry for mud.  Bow down.  All hail, the miracle tire is here.   If you don’t have one, prepare for doom, the rapture of crosspocalypse.

Crossers see it as second coming of our Lord Rhino.  At about $30 less expensive with the same amount of bite of the demi-god Dugast and available at the 33 UCI size limit, the Challenge Limus seems like it will get you through anything including bunny hopping alligators in a swamp for $95 each, or about the same price as the tires on my 4-Runner.  There’s no question it can level snotty off camber corners and allow you to ride up the side of a mud-hut in the CX Grand Prix of Slopville. 

You should know the Limus has limits, like you'll probably still have to train for cyclocross racing.  Before you sharpen your elbows for the checkout battle at your local bike shop, here is a list of miracles the Limus can’t perform: make it snow in September, cook waffles, shave the elusive patch of hair on your hamstring, turn grey bar tape white, ring cowbells when you need them most, stop your carbon fork from shuddering, mail you an upgrade sticker, give you calves the size of grapefruits, locate the knee warmers you left at the start line, ensure the race announcer pronounces your name correctly, keep your sunglasses from fogging up 100 meters from the start, get you home from the race at the exact time you promised your wife you would be home and be useful on the concrete known as September race courses.  Other than that, it’s perfect.

Movie Review: Phil Keoghan’s “The Ride” (I’m In It!)

Phil and I Two Years Ago East of Columbus, OH

I’m still not sure how many degrees from Kevin Bacon I am, but I scratched “Appear in Real Movie” off my bucket list Monday night at the Cincinnati Premiere of Amazing Race host Phil Keoghan’s documentary “The Ride.”  I appear for exactly 3.4 seconds about an hour and 10 minutes into the film.  I know this because I shouted “Heeeyyyy” and pointed at the screen in a sold out theater, then looked at my watch.  Dorksaywhat?  “What?”  Exactly.  At that moment in the film east of Columbus Ohio, drafting a BMW motorcycle, Phil had been tearing my legs off for the last 40 miles.  I had a half inch of Gatorade left and the grey sky threatened.  5 miles later I would pull even, shake his hand and have an incredible memory tucked in my jersey pocket forever.  No opportunity wasted.  Although I’m not officially listed in the credits, I’m certain I’ll be forever known as “Guy in green jacket riding with Phil in Ohio.”  Sooner or later I’ll get a screen capture of my moment of stardom to autograph for my groupies.  I may even hire a personal assistant and a posse.  Even then, I still wont make the cut into posh LA restaurants or be followed by TMZ.

When asked about the movie itself, I texted a co-worker, “Yea, it was good.  Very light fare.  A tish long, but overall, entertaining for all.”  I stand by that today.  By Michael Moore documentary standards, nothing horrific about cycling long distances was revealed in shocking detail, aside from the shot of Phil’s road-rashed hip.  It was light, but good.  It did a great job of wrapping up hundreds of hours and moments into a neat and entertaining package with both heart tugging and laugh-out-loud moments.  My biggest criticism is that I think it suffered a bit from the same problem as the Leadville 100 movie with Lance Armstrong.  I wanted more of an inside story.  I always thought the Leadville film would've been better told through the eyes of and focused on four nobodies traveling to Leadville from say Omaha.  I wanted the small picture, to know more about the characters and have less of them.  Rather than a Thanksgiving feast of a film about an incredible ride across America, an MS fundraiser, and snipits of drama between the characters, I think it would’ve been a better film focusing on one thing in depth.  I would’ve preffered a film told through the eyes of someone along the route with MS or if it was soley about the struggle of the tight knit crew, or Phil's family.

Phil and I the day of the Cincinnati Premiere

Regardless, I felt good leaving the theater with a smile on my face.  Plus, I was in it, got to meet Phil again and am forever grateful for the experience.

You can view the trailer, purchase/rent on I-Tunes and read more about Phil’s “No Opportunity Wasted” campaign here.

A previous article about my experience is here.