Oh Boy!

Iron Mtn 100K
Registration: officially submitted.
Girlfriends: unabashedly pressured.
Attitude: super stoked.

I was sold on this race when the indomitable Cissy Fowler told me that last year the course made her decide to name her first child "Ridge". Talk about a glowing review!

Destination Spot

Brevard, perhaps a little slow on the uptake, has abruptly and zealously embraced the title of cycling capital of the south. Goaded on by the new guard, our town is investing in trails and infrastructure, and advertising to the young, smelly fat tire set, and opening its streets to hundreds of spandexed individuals.

I've spent several hours now at the Bracken Mountain project, and the last time I was there, running through the verdant bowls and along azalea-dotted brook beds, I realized this magnificent trick that's been played on the city of Brevard. Bracken Mountain isn't really a tourist draw, a revenue bringer, an easy connector to the forest proper. Nope, it's just another plaything for the locals, a stand-alone loop perfect for after work rides, one more feature we can brag about to those unlucky enough to only visit.

Kind of unrelated but I LOVE this shot! 

Pic courtesy of Eddie Clark and bright pink shirt courtesy of Wes Dickson  

The publicity provided by Bike Mag has been instant, unexpected, a gamechanger. The B&B where I work has seen a tenfold increase in mountain bikers, droves of them flocking here in their Subarus and Jettas packed to bursting with chamois, chain lube, and energy drinks.

And in the grand tradition started by California and Colorado, with bikes inevitably comes beer. It seems that every week the town is abuzz after another brewery's announcement; first it was Sierra Nevada, then New Belgium, then closer to home Brevard Brewing Co opened its doors (to enthusiastic local fanfare) and, not to be outdone, Oskar Blues will be on Main Street by December. We had the chance to ride with the friendly and talented Oskar Blues boys and they were suitably enamored with the scope and variety (and greenness!) of our trails.

Try the Pilsner.
Pic courtesy of Meyer Photography

Truly it boggles the mind. Hops! Malt! Jobs!! In a perfect world, I'll go out to play in the west for a while and return at precisely the right time to land a plum post in the beer business. Here's hoping.

All this hubbub brings into focus (yet again) my visceral love for this little slice of NC. It's OK though, because I want to fall in love with somewhere new, with new people and new coffee shops and new mountains. I want to accumulate more of those moments where you stop, look around, and realize nothing could be more perfect. Sure, I encounter them on top of Coontree, and riding up to the bar at dusk, and sitting in the bike shop laughing so hard I'm crying, but there's a world full of moments like that. I want to gather up as many as possible while I have the mobility and flexibility to do it.

Happiest Days

after work i went on the hunt for my favorite miracle drug. i've developed a worrisome dependency on it, but who wouldn't? it's over-the-counter, obscenely cheap, and causes weight loss, lowered blood pressure and cholesterol, improved sleep, increased lifespan, and shiny hair. it's packed with vitamin d, it's anti-anxiety, anti-depression, anti-cancer, and the side effects aren't even serious: bulky thighs, questionable tan lines, obsessive behavior, and the tendency to gravitate towards weird friends.

Oh, flowers for the baby dino!

oddly enough the pharmacy doesn't stock it so i had to get my fix in the woods. today, which was obviously the most beautiful day of the year, i harnessed my doubts about the swank and used them as fuel for quite the ride. from home, climbed clawhammer, up black, down buckwheat, down 477, over to 475b, down cove creek, davidson river, back in on 276 and tacked on north slope just so i could cram the whole seasonal triumvirate into opening weekend. 4+ hours and it felt great. i had no music (never do) so spent the whole time humming a mantra of "pretty pretty pretty! pedal pedal pedal," and making happy (and occasionally frightened) little animal noises. ate chomps. picked flowers. climbed quickly, descended slowly. took pictures. loved my bicycle. i feel a lot better knowing that while i almost never do longer rides, that doesn't mean i can't.

Clawhammer

Black Mountain

FS 477

FS 475B

Hello beautiful

The light fading on North Slope

Mole Hill...to Mountain...to Mole Hill

Yesterday sort of out of the blue Wes offered me a shot at the Pisgah Stage Race, the insanity of which I had scoffed at for years.

Appalled, frightened, titillated, I retreated to the internet, studying maps, elevation profiles, and race reports. I realized what all stage racers surely know: life would take a backseat. I'd have to play soccer with kid gloves, ease up on the beer consumption, carefully tend to my bike, lose days of work.

In the end my decision was clinched by my job--the boss-lady will be out of town that week, leaving me "in charge", and that, combined with my utter lack of prep and questionable mental fortitude, makes it one helluva long shot.

It's crazy how even the suggestion of such great heights has galvanized me. All right, I won't do it this year, but instead of surviving the Swank I want to race it and own it, I want to kick ass at every cyclocross race I enter, and I want to entertain the notion of the stage race, not in the distant imaginary future, but in the next couple of years.

Now that (finally, wonderfully) Asheville has its own cx series, I can enjoy that stupid, awesome discipline without the usual caveats--no long drives, no missed work shifts, no uninspiring grass courses in the Piedmont. Along with an unusually large Brevard contingent I attended an evening practice race and the Bent Creek throwdown last Saturday and surprised myself with a: a threshold intensity I could've sworn had evaporated, and b: an uncharacteristic bloodthirstiness. My favorite part was clawing my way through the ranks of women in front of me, piloting the deutschbike around their sketchy singletrack maneuverings and "sprinting" away in slow motion.

Da posse

It's not just cx that's got me wickedly stoked on riding right now. Joh and I rode Farlow on Sunday and while I embarrassed myself with my timidity, it was still a grand time. Best of all, four of us ladies partook of a Dupont night ride, which was beyond fun. Clattering down Rocky Ridge at dusk, skirting huge toads and piles of manure, listening to the coyotes, we could not stop exclaiming, "This...is...awesome!"

Da gurls

Race Reportage?

i was waiting for pictures from the weekend to surface so that i could adorn this post with something but it seems that nothing will appear, and i am buzzing off a great group ride with the fellas, so i thought i'd throw this out there.

hobby park, first real-ish xc race of the season. yes, i promise i am retired, but despite that i keep finding myself filling out waivers, kitting up, standing on start lines. an unpleasant but short winter has meant a lot more time on the trails this year, and while i'm not IN TRAINING (this is always italicized and in caps in my head), i've put in a lot of fun hours with the baby dino, who is really maturing into a lovely little Era.

after a chill start i trailed Fast Anina for awhile, knowing that she wasn't working too hard to hold me off. i caught phantom glimpses of her through the trees but worried more about Tenacious Bonnie, who stayed a minute off my back the whole time. at first i was terribly irked because if there's one thing i hate in bike racing, it's having a pursuant...or being in pursuit...or being alone...

eventually i realized that while i couldn't widen the gap, she also couldn't narrow it, and i let it motivate me. i pushed the big ring as often as possible and stayed smooth on the bike. and admired the toadshades popping out of the leaves.

it was way fun, which is not an adjective i associate with racing. this bodes well for the season (which of course is not really a season, you know, because i'm retired.)

st marie also had a good race, and don't let him tell you otherwise.

p.s. happy spring!

Stellar

this has been a fabulous week. lots of good mtb rides, including adventure village--how could i have forgotten about the slalom course and increasingly decrepit but still cool xc trails we built last summer!? the town of brevard also had the pleasure of hosting the effervescent emily, who will be rocking out with bc (and rooming with me! yeeahh boi, as she would say) in the coming mtb season. i don't think i need to tell anyone how awesome she is.
the hobby park race was this weekend and it was sooperdooper good times. a huge b-town caravan rolled in and proceeded to dominate the podiums(four brevardians in the top fifteen of the pro field!) i got third behind two pros, anina and philicia. the climbs were awesome but not frequent enough and the descents were great fun but not my forte...piedmont style twists and turns and nothing super technical. philicia had ze skillz and i did not.
i spent a lot of time during the race composing odes to my bike. i love it passionately and it's so reliable and beautiful and comfortable.
and so demure.

also, for the first time i have some legit sponsors and they're being so generous i think i should say something! specialized is helping out a lot and the fast tracks were PERFECT and FAST for the course this weekend. cane creek and tifosi are also showing the love, and i can never forget sycamore cycles, i.e. the best local bike shop EVER. yay! onward, in the quest for endorphins and adrenaline!
i am not as pinned as i should be. story of my life.