Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, and Something Blue

Something Old:
Last week was chalked full and passed in a blur. A lot had happened and a lot continued to happen; until tonight. I am sitting at home pretty tired and trying to contain a head cold. So it seems like weblogging is as good a pass time right now as any.

Last Saturday afternoon, I loaded all my camping and racing stuff into my friend John’s car and drove to Las Cruces for the collegiate mountain bike season opener, the Horny Toad Hustle. After hustling into the slow moving traffic outside the NMSU football stadium, John, Lawrence (drove separately), and I picked up our race packets 10 minutes prior to the closing of packet pick-up. Shortly after leaving packet pick-up, the blue skies turned dark grey and the buckets of rain were dropped on the city. So, the officers exercised their power, and we passed on camping and stayed in a hotel. Race day arrived with blue skies and dry trails. The raced marked the 1st of 4 high desert races. Long story short, I underestimated the course, rode sloppy, and after going back and forth with the eventual second place finisher, held it together for 3rd.

Tuesday night I attended a cyclocross race in Pine Flats (south of Tijeras). The race was low profile but still had a solid field. The course was non-traditional but ridiculously awesome. Each long lap, had tons of climbing, a few killer run-ups, pine needles, gravel, pavement, loose dirt, grass, logs, rocks, single track, double track, road, fire roads, etc., etc., etc. Basically, the best cyclocross course ever ridden. Thanks Ethan; I left with a perma-grin. I don’t know where I placed, but I do know that I took the holeshot. I hit the first part of the course with too much speed and rode over some really big rocks, really fast and decided to go hard from there. Eventually, I was passed but managed to chase back on to the lead group. Shortly after, we turned onto the really long paved descent. There my singlespeed and I spun out. The final highlight came when I sprinted with young Jonah. This kid is incredible. He is hardly tall enough to carry his bike over the barriers but is all heart. Cool.

Something New:
Last night, minutes after getting my Marmot Eos 1P delivered, I drove to Gallup to meet John, Nick (who, being twins are indistinguishable in the dark), and Graham (up from AZ). After camping out, we raced a really non-technical course that was actually fun, despite the fact that I did 95% of the race locked-out. However, I was doing okay until snapping my chain with about 8, of 30-some, miles to go. After losing lots of time I managed to pass about ½ the people that passed me. Still, I was disappointed. At any rate, all is not lost. Thanks to the rest of the team and their awesome racing, UNM leads the points omnium for the South West Collegiate Cycling Conference (SWCCC). Awesome. Hopefully, I can manage a better race in two weeks in Phoenix. After the race, Graham and I grabbed a bite to eat. It was good to catch up with him. Look forward to racing him in Phoenix.

Something Borrowed:
Last week’s cold snap did three things for me. First, it got me stoked for cross season and some fall hiking and camping. Second, it gave me this cold. Finally, it reminded me of this article by BikeSnobNYC.

Something Blue:
It doesn’t get much bluer than this or this; who can say?

The Pecos Wilderness: An Incomplete Photo Essay

Last weekend I finally made good on something that I have been promising myself for awhile: a day of hiking in the Pecos Wilderness. However, spending an entire day hiking puts one behind on most everything. So, instead of supplying the reader with the usual, excessively long, boring report, I will have to leave you dissapointed with a partial photographic essay.

About 2 miles into the hike, I turned off Trail 25 onto Trail 257 (see trail signage below).


Only minutes after turning down Trail 257, I crossed paths with four bulls, which apparently roam freely in the Pecos Wilderness. That's really safe.

Somewhere along the line, the government was convinced that mountain bikes do too much damage to trails but horses (or cattle, apparently) do not. Well, I've never seen a mountain bike trail this torn up.

After a few hours of travel, I arrived at Pecos Baldy Lake. East Pecos Baldy lies in the background and was next to be summited.

Right around timberline, I photographed the local fauna.

Because of an impending storm, I was forced to turn around early and not bag South Thruchas Peak. Here's my sad look at Trail Riders' Wall and South Truchas Peak (impending storm not pictured).

Sure enough the clouds opened up. For the last two miles they dropped snow.

Sometimes I forget why I ride. Lately, my motive has more-or-less been getting a good result in October. So, I have been using the road bike as a means to that end. It’s harder for me to have fun on a ride bike, and I have only been fueling my wrong motive. So, as I sat on the floor of my bedroom last night, almost three quarters through a four week block of training, reflecting on how productive the first two weeks were, how tweaking my knee and taking a few days off has thrown me off, thinking about how crappy work was on Wednesday, thinking about all the crap I had to get done Thursday, thinking about how little sleep I was going to get, I thought riding with my fat-tired friend sounded delightful. I wanted to smell sagebrush and dirt. I wanted to ride over rocks going really fast with some wider, flat handlebars in my hands. I tried talking myself out of it. I tried to convince myself that my planned short intervals, road ride would be more productive, but it was all to no avail. After all, I am a mountain biker. I set my alarm for 5:40 and hit the hay sometime after midnight.

Sometime before 7, I was in the car heading for the Sandia Foothills. It’s been over a week since I rode the mountain bike. Boy, I’ll tell you what, I was rusty. Making a road bike go fast and making a mountain bike go fast are fairly different things. No matter, the rust quickly flaked off and I was having a blast riding over rocks, looking out over the west mesa, seeing the Sandias over head, and not using toilets. On the second loop, I tried to do some intervals. I was moderately productive. However, doing intervals has never been so fun. I was hitting stuff fast. Without trying I was getting airborne over little bumps, railing corners faster than ever, floating over rock sections, sliding around in weathered, sand-size granite, and dodging a plethora of rabbits. My confidence was swelling all too quickly. It was not long before that weathered granite put my confidence on ice. I was coming over the top of a climb in a full, 44x12 sprint when I found an off-camber, loose, sweeping left turn. My line was not set up; I took the corner wide and started losing my rear wheel. Fortunately, I recovered that without going down. Unfortunately, I relaxed to soon. My front tire gave way. I slide with my bike, then flipped over it, then rolled a few times. I picked myself up in the midst of a cloud of dust, realized my elbow was bleeding, and glanced over my bike. Everything looked okay. Man, I got back on my bike and rode fast for another 20 minutes. I had sweat, dirt, and blood on me. I was surrounded by nature. What more could I ask for? This is why I ride.

Sometime before 7 tomorrow, I will leave for the airport. I am going home for my cousin’s wedding. I am looking forward to the weekend. I am excited for my cousin and her soon-to-be husband. My cousin and I are only five months apart in age. In a lot of ways, we grew up together.

Sometimes I wonder why Todd Wells always ends his blog wondering.