Winter Rules

Yes, I look like the Hunchback of Notre Wiss. Clever me thought that riding with my Camelback inside a thermal jacket would prevent the tube from freezing as it had on my last ride. So frustrating. This is a new winter rule: Ride with Camelback inside jacket no matter how silly it looks.In golf, winter rules apply to the "off season" when fairways aren't so fair and courses are littered with debris. In order to compensate, someone invented "winter rules" which enable players to move the dimpled one to a better lie and thus improve their chances and their fun.I've decided that cycling needs winter rules as well. To that end, I've instituted the "ride the no bike trails on days when no one is in the park" rule. Although cumbersome, the rule permitted me, Erik, and Damian all sorts of nostalgic fun yesterday as we poached the Lower Pipeline and Fingerspan Bridge Trails.I still am unclear on whose authority the trail permits rest. Who deemed the purple trail off limits to cyclists? Why can't we ride the fast and fabulous berm-infested downhill from the nature center? Winter Rules says we can!

Oh, and to the dog owners who are walking with their unleashed canine pals--I won't tell on you if you don't tell on me. Why can't we all just get along?

Happy 2010. I'm going outlaw.

MACquet

Consider yourself invited to the Mid-Atlantic Cyclocross Championship Awards Banquet. After watching this video, how could you possibly decline? Register now on BikeReg.

3: it's a magic number

Showing up pays off in spades; or at least in medals. The boy finished 10 cross races this year which landed him in third place overall for both the MAC and PA Series in U19 Beginner category.

He persevered through pedal failure at Fair Hill, running the final half of the course. Note the missing right pedal which he has stashed in his jersey:

(Dennis Smith Photo)

He trudged though the Mercer muck with nary a complaint, unlike his sad sack mother who must have dropped 800 F bombs. He didn't even mind when his leg warmers (arm warmers posing as leg warmers) drooped.At Highland Park, when the pedal fell off again (stripped crank arm), he managed to push through with as much grace and dignity available to a mud encrusted human. He ignored the soul-crushing officious official at Beacon who immediately lectured him about receiving help at the barrier after he crashed and found himself tangled in tape. (Personally, I would like to thank the kind spectator who "broke" the rules and helped the 75 pound 11 year old dis-entangle himself and continue on to the Amphitheater of Pain). Can we save the rules until he's 12? He chose not to race day 2 of Providence and pitted for me instead. I flatted on the first turn, and he handed off his bike as would a seasoned pro, made nice with Mavic neutral support to get a wheel change, and exchanged bikes again like a pro.

He usually came in last (DFL) or nearly last (NDFL). The U19 crowd is a mixed bunch, and when the 18 year old kid who races with the B men lines up next to you, what are you supposed to do? Race your little heart out, that's what. After the Whirly Bird race, he declined a fishing expedition with his Dad, opting instead to remain at the race and help the announcer identify racers on the course. Note the snazzy binoculars:Jimmy's finest race was the Hillbilly Hustle, and not just because he won. He got the hole shot, picked himself up from crashes, and raced the entire course with courage, conviction, and purpose. He was too tired to engage the victory salutes he practices in the back alley. I think this win will propel him into the next season with some added confidence.
It's a fine line between converting a neophyte and scaring him off with excessive proselytizing. When the Dark Side invited him to race on their squad next year, the boy replied "Sure!" without a second thought. I asked him repeatedly if he really wanted to, and he finally said, "Mom, I think you keep asking me because you enjoy hearing me say that I do." I just want to make sure he wants to do it for himself, and not to please me.

Well, I could not be more pleased with him. In addition to being a trooper about racing, he is a good sport. No trash talk. No whining. No excuses. When he says, "I only came in third overall because I showed up," I remind him that that's 90% of the game and not to diminish his overall podium finish. He's 11, riding a modified mountain bike, racing against kids twice his size, and not complaining one bit. He might be 3rd overall, and sometimes DFL, but he's made it to podium in terms of life skills because he suits up and shows up.

I think I should hire him as my life coach.

Bilenky Urban Junkyard Cross

The beginning:
Those of you who risked your junk and came out to the 4th annual Bilenky cross extravaganza were greeted with all that's awesome about cycling. I was overcome with nostalgia for the bygone era of grass roots racing, before everyone had a coach, warmed up on trainers, and ate special goo and shit before races. Costumes abounded, and nobody took himself too seriously. Scratch that: no one took himself or herself seriously at all. Oh, and what's badder than a junkyard dog?The ride from Mt Airy to Olney proved initially treacherous, full of un-plowed streets and nasty drivers. I wished for a mile that I'd chosen the 29er, but once I hit Chew Avenue I changed my mind. People were digging their cars out of the 21" of powder and I chuckled to myself knowing that I didn't have to dig the Vicious out of a mountain of snow.

The arrival:
Beautiful, hand-built frames adorn the ceilings of this bicycle boutique nestled into a blind corner of North 2nd Street in Philadelphia's Olney section. Despite being clearly a work area, it's got a homey feel. And possibly one of the best shop bathrooms I've ever seen. It defies description--you'll have to go check it out for yourself.

The drill:
After paying the $5 entry fee (plus another $7 for a sweet tee shirt), you exit the rear of the shop into the junkyard. Lauren from Keswick ready waits in line, ready to race: Two fires were going like gangbusters and people took turns warming themselves and drying shoes and clothing. Worlds collide at the Junkyard cross: honorary Dirty Girl Damien Talese; the PMBA crowd (Ken, Rob, and Lou), die hard crossers (DLowe, some Therapy guys), the Wissahickon crew (Jill, Ed, Pete), the Keswick crew (Lauren, Charles, Pat, Jamie, Jim and Lisa, who still has my old Vicious) and folks from as far away as D.C. A cast of thousands! Here's our host with last year's champion:The race:
The start was similar to last year's, with a 50 yard straightaway followed by a 180 degree turn that brings you to the left-hand turn into the car cemetery. Before the turn, a 10 yard run littered with sofa cushions forced riders off their bikes. An intrepid few tried riding over these obstacles but none made it. The ride through the cars was sketchy but manageable until a nasty 20 foot drop that ended in a face-full of chain link fence if you failed to make the hairpin right turn that took you down a 30 yard straight section before a hard right back up. I ran this section all four laps, thank you very much. Racers seriously debated strategy before starting:More squishy snow and then the bad ass 180 around the motorcycle, which I never made without having to put my foot down. Around a building to the left and off to the flyover which I did make all 4 times and am pretty proud of this accomplishment.The mens' race saw all sorts of crashes and calamity on the flyover. Dudes were flying off to either side, or losing momentum near the top and rolling backwards...those who made it over often bit it on the other side. I can't believe no one had to be hauled out on a stretcher. Eventual men's winner Peter Schildt launched off the flyover and did a little BMX ballet mid-air, then stuck the landing. Well fucking done! Hup, hup, hup, D Lowe! The finish line was under a death bridge which also served as the podium. Evil trolls, who will be punished in the afterlife, hurled snowballs at racers from this vantage point:As well as this one:In half a second my face will connect with this snowball:If the laps continued, you went through the finish and then up into a trailer with a hard right exit. This year's champ Pete Schildt enters the trailer while defending champ Ed Bush pursues in his way stylish trousers:
Damian's bike somehow turned sideways, blocking the exit and launching him out of the door. Fortunately, he was OK.

While the course proved treacherous enough with snow, abandoned cars and furniture, a trailer, nasty turns and a flyover, the most hazardous part of the course were the aggressive, snowball hurling spectators. I received a shot to the head that left snow packed in my helmet. Seriously, I felt like I was playing dodge ball while riding my bike on a frozen lake. So much fun.

Irony
After entering every MAC series race at $25 a pop, and frequently finishing top 3 in the old lady class, the most I ever came away with was a medal (except of course for the awesome GRANOGUE race which had really thoughtful, useful prizes for all categories...thanks Vanderbacon et al.), I won today's race and got a really cool medal, a tee shirt, and...drum roll please....A CHRIS KING HEADSET!

How about them apples? I almost fell off the podium I got so excited. On my way to victory:
Thanks so much, Bilenky buddies! And thanks to the super fast girls for staying home. Hah! This headset is going to look dead sexy on my bike.

Whether your passion is bike, beer, or both, this event demands your attention. I can't think of a better way to close out the 2009 season than with the Junkyard Cross. Now to start preparations for 2010 domination....

Thanks to Pat Engleman, Allan Rodzinski, and Dave Lowe for poached photos. As usual, my camera failed to work in sub-zero temps.

Tis the end of the season and time to be jolly

I've been looking forward to the LGWMBR (large group winter mountain bike ride) since sometime in August. I've mourned the loss of cross season for about 2.5 minutes,(notice no report on Reston which, while fun and I finished, deserves no second look). Indeed, the season went out with a whimper)and have turned my attention to 29" of single track fun.

In the summer, it's often difficult to drum up too much interest in the Dirty Girl ride because of so many competing activities--road rides, races, vacations, etc. Yesterday, we had 12 people show up at Falls Bridge to join us on the frozen Wiss trails, including first-timers Colin Bonnington, Pam Walland Caitlin Thompson.We would have had 14 people on the ride, but one regular who shall remain nameless apparently participated in too much cheer the previous night and the other, poor Chris, showed up a little late and missed the start. He thought we'd gone to Belmont and chased us up there and then back to the Wiss. We missed both of you!

We started out going up the hideous climb from Ridge to the Other Other. I led the group in front of a SEPTA bus which could have put an immediate end to the ride. After getting strung out riding the trail backwards, the group reconvened at Rittenhouse Town and I fired Douglas from position of "Ride Director," a job that he has assumed kind of like George Costanza when he moves into the office and refuses to leave. Douglass later redeemed himself by saving me from crashing into a giant tree and buying us all hot chocolate.
You, sir, are heretofore welcome on all rides!

After the Other Other we rode out the Pipeline, crossed over to the Fantasy Trail and continued on to the new IMBA trail. On the other side of Wise's Mill there's a bridge over the little creek crossing which some runners built. Rumor has it they were going to build it in such a way as to thwart cyclists' attempts to cross. Why can't we all just get along?

After doing part of this trail (we cut out before the meadows), we stopped at the Inn for Hot Chocolate.Steve Liddell bid us adieu at this point.The attrition rate was high as we noodled back toward Manayunk: Steve, Jilly, Diana...people peeling off in the woods to head back to hearth and home. M flatted (go tubeless M!) for the second ride in a row, right at the place where I taco'd my front wheel last summer trying to prevent Gus from passing me on a downhill. Hubris.
Next ride, we are definitely taking over Tommy Gunn's post-ride and stuffing ourselves full of ribs and other non-race season grub. And Colin--there's a 7 Eleven and Dunkin Donuts up the hill...imagine the junk food orgy that could be had?

Cross season is awesome but takes over for 3 solid months, leaving little room for general bicycling silliness. Of course, now it's time to start training for the Spring Classic...Pass the sardines.

Thanks to Damien for all the photos which I appropriated from his FaceCrack page.

I'm a winner!

CX prodigy Jeff Bahnson held a raffle to support his trip to Euro Cross Camp. Five sets of Gore Ride On cables were raffled off, and guess who made the good luck podium?

# 167 Stephen Kincade
# 18 Rich Bilson
# 129 Chris Mayhew
# 28 Anne Rock
#118 Erik Leaver

That's right. I fretted about selling the Felt which had super-duper Gore Cables which I really liked. Now, I can put them on the Vicious. It's the little things.

Thanks to Rotten for procuring the cables for the raffle. And thanks to Jeff for being such an inspiration.L Webb too.If these two are the evidence, the fast cycling gene is inherited,and I should start working on my son's baseball skills. Sorry, Jimmy. Perhaps we can work on a DNA transfer?

If you haven't done so, check out the DCCOD's site to see Jeff's blog about getting himself to Europe to race with the big dogs. What a great opportunity! Be part of this by proxy--send him some cash, now! They accept Paypal.

Photos courtesy of Dennis Smith