The BT Epic

Three short years ago I started racing hill bikes as a lowly pee-on in the beginner class. If you had asked me then to ride 55 miles my response would have been "Like in a week, dude?" yeah I talked like that it explains why I didn't have any friends. A lot has changed for me since then. I use the term dude sparingly and only in it literal sense (a hair on an elephants butt). Also I has taken to the masochistic ritual of racing endurance races. I raced three 50+ mile races this season and loved each and everyone of them. Most recently being the Berryman Trail Epic put on by the Springfield Cycling Club and they did one hell of a job.
The start of the race was at 830 and just a little below perfect temperature. The DRJ power house had a nice showing of riders (Wes, Chris, Jim, Tom, Scott, and myself). Everyone was stoked to be out there as we goofed around and acted like mountain bikers on the line. Around 8:30 some Dude, who had been telling us what to do, yelled go and everyone decided that was a good enough start for an all-day-in-the-saddle-race (Just the clarify all day to Chris Ploch is 4hours and 42min.) We fallowed the race car down a paved road and onto a gravel one then we were directed onto another gravel road which we climbed for about three miles. I was warming up and feeling like I had some gas so I stepped on it and entered the woods around 20th. Not to shabby for a fat kid who has not been ridding his bike. I was rocking out to my Race day 2 play list and managed to pass a few guys before the 10mile check point or as I call it the place of disaster. Heading into the check point we had to cross a creek which had a very sketchy bridge build over it that we had to walk. I did this then hopped back on the bike to ride the thirty feet to pick up my shinny yellow zip tie. Some how I managed to cut both side walls in this short stretch. I flipped the bike upside down and began to watch my place get closer and closer to the rear. I got a new tube in the front tire borrowed a floor pump and soon found out that as some random dude said "you've got problems" he almost had a punch in the face after his Einstein epiphany. The tube had a puncture so I began the process over again (with a tube that had a patch on it). I got the Gu packet in place and once again began inflating the tire. This time I had success! I check the back tire and the Stan's No Tube had worked by sealing the cut (or so I thought) so i inflated it, grabbed two cookies and hopped back on the bike. Up the road and just into the woods the rear tire was flat again. I reached for my third and final tube. It was a 26 I ride on 29s. Good thing rubber stretches or I would have been screwed and there would be a lot of bastard children running around. With the tire seated I hit it with the CO2 and actually looked like I knew what I was doing. That is until I flipped the wheel over and realized that there was a rock wedged in between the tire and the rim. I let out all of the precious air and then hit it with the CO2 again. I didn't have enough to inflate it fully so I bummed a mini pump one of the last racers that I had seen in the last 10min in topped it off before sending him on his merry way chock full of good karma. I packed up my trash and made a note that I had nothing left with which to fix flats. I had to ride uber clean! That said I put the bike back on the trail and realized the front tire was in fact flat again. What now? Well I believe the last two riders of the race where just getting ready to pass me and they gave me a 26inch tube and the use of their mini pump. I changed the tube (I was really good at this point) thanked them and head back to the check point to Catch a ride back to the cabins. HELL NO! I haven't DNF'ed all season I wasn't about to start now. I did go back to the check point to top off my tires with the floor pump and more cookies. Needless to say I was frustrated. But I took that frustration and threw it in the frying pan like butter when i grilling pancakes and melted it into sweet savory goodness.
My play list was still rocking so I set the pace fast enough to catch people. Which I started to do. I gained back about 10-12 places as I clawed my way up the climbs, ripped my way down descents, with a smattering of flossing in the flats. The trails where in amazing shape and the weather was perfect for a long fall ride. I was still grinning (my race grin is crusted drool around a gaping mouth) as I climbed up to the last check point, picked up my back zipp tie, and was told that I looked fresh. My guessing is that old boy told every racer that but it helped give me a boost as a pointed the bike down the 3 miles of grave road that we had climbed that morning. 6hours and 37min was the official time that I crossed the line. I was beat and just wanted a shower and some food.
This race is already on my calender for next season so I suggest that you make it a point to be there as well, otherwise you can be weak sauce for another winter.

Welcom to the Future!

As many of you know (and by many I mean 3 out of the 5 people who read my blog) at TC Man we grill for lunch almost everyday. As things have progressed and the common man has develorped grater control of fire we have branched out from pig lips and assholes. One of our greatest achievements was the chicken sausage braukito. The recommended way to prepare this delightful treat is to purchase Jalapeno chicken sausages from trader Joes wrapped in a whole grain tortilla with pepper jack cheese and Maull's Jalapeno BBQ sauce. Once this little bit O' heaven has parachuted into the cavern below your lungs and heart you can thank the lack of customer flow at our store for giving you this Nobel peace prize quality treat.
Another wonderful thing that the good old fire pit as sparked is us seeing how many times we can grill in one day (I believe the record is 3 in a 10hour day). Because of this we normally grill breakfast on Saturday mornings which normally brings the rather large (I am being nice) hair stylists out the back door to our stoop to drool and comment on how we eat so much yet are so thin (It call riding a bike aka exercise). Today we set out to let God guide us on our fiery journey through edible bliss it ended next to the Pillsbury section of the freezer of schnucks. BATTER BLASTER. It is an organic pancake mix in a nitrous oxide pressure can much like ready whip. Not only can you huff it but is make the pancakes that French royalty ate before they had their daily white flag raising. I am sitting here wishing it was breakfast all over again so I can enjoy the pure ecstasy of cramming handfuls of syrup covers chocolate chip pancakes into my mouth (Can you tell I was a fat kid). I urge you all to purchase this product and will be looking into getting them as a sponsor for the 2009 season.

Stars @ Blues 10/16/08

I was there. I witnessed this. The let down of missing the home opener was tough to swallow but worth the burnin'. My first game this season was the blues forth and third home. My seat was 4 rows from the top but I was in the house and that is all that mattered. Goose bumps infested my skin when Charles Glen began belting out "Oh when the Blues go marching in." and the blues delivered. Many stood on his head and every line scored. We taunted Turco which got in his head and allowed out team to score on him 5 times (ok so it might have been the back to back games with the traveling but still he did wasnt happy with the erie chant of TURCO...TURCO). Boyes have goals in all four games as does Tkachuk and Kayria has 9 points. We are hott and we are definently going to have an awesome season! Will you be a part of it?

Some dude snapped this photo of me at burnin' and it looks like I know what I am doing. So thank you to whoever you were crouching in the leaves on that first corner I owe you a beer.

Feel the Burnin'

OH MAN OH MAN! Mesa Cycles out did themselves again. This race would be fun even without all of the hard work that they put into it. However having real time scoring, giant checks for the winners, an endless river of golden American Pabst, and Leadville style belt buckles for the winners will keep us mountain bikers, and what few roadies showed up, talking till next October.

THE RACE
I volunteered to be the first man up for my team. This does not seem like a big deal until you factor in that the start is la mans style with everyone from every category starting at once and running around a field to their bike which you are hoping has not been stepped on or have a smoke bomb near it. I was still waking up when the horn ripped open everyone nerves and we started sprinting in out carbon fiber race shoe that were designed for only one purpose. I got to my bike which was next to a smoke bomb and headed down the paved road at 30+ mph looking about about the 10th spot heading into the woods. I blew up like and kept getting passed. I was deep in the red and horribly shaken and never settled down. Fearing flats I had way too much pressure in my rear tire and was spinning out on the short yet wicked steep gravel climbs. Nothing went my way and I crashed hard twice one time tearing my rear drerailuer cable housing leaving me without some of my high gears. Not a very good foundation for my team of Scott and Mark. Both of who did awesome out there and kept it interesting.
My second lap I felt like the afterburners were finally engaging. After going over the handle bars on the first rock in the woods I found a groove. I was railing corners like, scorching the earth on the descents and keeping my momentum through the climbs. My music was blasting though my ears and straight into my muscles and was feeling fast.
Lap three I came out of the gates pissed at myself which means I was going all out and going to hold it till the legs exploded in lactic acid and which point I would have pedaled with my hands. The bike however was to thrilled with my over zealous riding on this lap and the rear tire when flat in mile two of the twelve mile lap. As a thank you for asking if I was okay or if I needed anything, by all who passed me I dropped the hammer and caught all but one of them (Dan Furhman) before crossing the line.
Scot had a flat and a mechanical on his night lap which kept me from going out on a forth lap which I was really counting on. But that is racing you prepare and you lay it all on the line and if you can say you had anything left then you really did not race. As for myself and my team we had nothing left at 9:30pm when LB (Mark) rolled out of the woods and across the line. I would not have traded anyone of them for anyone else and an stoked that I got to be a part of this awesome race.
Big shout out the DRJ racing's A team of Chris (Fastest Lap at 59:59, Wes, And Bob, who had an apocalyptic battle on their hands and emerged victories with those shinny belt buckles and bragging rights for another year. D-Wayne putt his heart into it and smiled like always. Mad respect for your insanely hard season and 9 grueling laps. Jim, Reevis, Tom, Jon, and John also threw it down like titans proving once again that DRJ Racing is like legendary like the yankees except everyone likes us. Ninja Dave came in with 5 laps in six hours and earned his belt buckle too then gave me a trade mark over the head low five making me feel just as pro. Thanks again to everyone for the words of encouragement, the competition, the stories, and most importantly making this race rock like new years 1999.

DARKNESS

1. the partial or total absence of light 2.wickedness or evil.
So there you have it night time in the woods it evil. Well then get be a black cloak and an alter because I enjoy riding bikes in the dark. You are forced to ascend to a higher level if you want to come back from a night ride with all of your blood still flowing through your fragile veins. Friday the 26th of September Castlewood hosted a night ride so I did the logical thing and charge my batteries. We (Jack Tagert, Casey Ryback, Jay Tiegs and CO.) rode all of the familure trails. The trails that we bomb down without thinking because they have been burned into whatever part of the brain controls the memorization of mountain bike trails. This time they were all different. It was as if the trails themselves where serpents that had been in hybrination until now and were furrious that were were riding down there spines while our HID light blinded them. I loved every second of it. So when the post went out on the DRJ message board that we would be doing a double ranch ride one being shrouded in wickedness. I once again had to call on my logic to get myself to ditch school and load up the trusty Niner. The first lap hurt. The second lap hurt worse. mostly due to being the slowest of the four team members (Bob, Wes, Jim, and myself). However, it was good race day practice because as we know BURNIN' AT THE BLUFFS is October the 11, 2009. The two hard laps equaled to about 25miles which wil always equal volcano tacos from TB on the way home.