Bici Coop Racing

Bici Coop: Equal Pay for Women (in bike racing)!

alanbarton — Tue, 28 May 2013 10:19:09 -0500

Bici Coop: Equal Pay for Women (in bike racing)!:

The Skyway Epic is a grassroots mountain bike race that recently took place in the woods outside of Sylacauga, Alabama. It’s a grueling 60 mile race through singletrack and service roads in the beautiful forests of the rural south. Bici decided to be a sponsor of this race by providing the $100…

Brapppp!

alabamacx: cyclocosm: Kinda went there in today’s...

alanbarton — Fri, 19 Apr 2013 20:39:24 -0500

alabamacx:

cyclocosm:

Kinda went there in today’s Rantcast.

Yes, and yes. Agree 100%. Might also add that we just need to stop fetishizing all that shit. When my Rival wears out I might replace it with Force or Ultegra(or used Campy) and when my steel frame breaks along the seat stay I almost caved in a month ago (which while looks bad is still totally rideable) might upgrade to an aluminum frame something or other that’s what I’ll do but in the meantime I’ll happily do miles and miles and miles on my “base level” bike and just continue to be bemused by the group ride popular delusion that “pro level” gear can polish a turd.

Josh, nailing it. Just ride your bike.

Tomorrow morning we will be watching Paris Roubaix at Octane...

alanbarton — Sat, 06 Apr 2013 07:11:52 -0500

Tomorrow morning we will be watching Paris Roubaix at Octane Coffee in Homewood. After that we’ll go out for a cobble classic inspired ride. Doors open at 8. See you there.

Sam went up to Louisville this weekend and did us proud. 17th on...

alanbarton — Sun, 11 Nov 2012 18:36:43 -0600

Sam went up to Louisville this weekend and did us proud. 17th on Day 1 and 32 on day 2.

Good on ya @AlabamaCX. Now everyone else go register.

alanbarton — Wed, 26 Sep 2012 13:55:30 -0500

Good on ya @AlabamaCX. Now everyone else go register.

Week 1 of Bamacross is finally here!

alanbarton — Wed, 26 Sep 2012 10:59:41 -0500

Sunday begins the best part of the year. BAMACROSS! We have a lot going on this year to get ready. Among getting gear all dialed in, heckles rehearsed, and our beards grown out, we have picked up a new RADICAL sponsor in Birmingham Physical Therapy. Ellen and her staff are really excited to help the team and the series out with some PT help and some cool events this fall. Be sure to come say hi to them over at our tent throughout the season.

Speaking of tents. We will have a new Bici custom tent at all of our events. Starting this weekend you can spot us with a black top ‘Bici Coop’ tent.

Well back to work but we hope to catch you at Tannehill this weekend for the first race of the season!

someoneisalwaysfaster: the little ones are impressed Brace...

alanbarton — Mon, 27 Aug 2012 08:43:01 -0500

someoneisalwaysfaster:

the little ones are impressed

Brace yourselves.

Shop Closed July 5

alanbarton — Tue, 03 Jul 2012 13:10:51 -0500

bicicoop:

The shop will be closed this Thursday, July 5! While we are fully aware that July 4th is the holiday of choice, on the 5th a certain special someone will be celebrating his birthday by buying a house, and we’ll all be there to celebrate with him. Happy birthday Ross!

John and Lee are Crazy: Dirty Kanza 2012

alanbarton — Mon, 04 Jun 2012 21:50:49 -0500

Dirty Kanza 200 Gravel Road Race (full report)

After last year’s mud caked disappointment at the Dirty Kanza 200 there was no doubt in my mind I would be back to try again in 2012. That was decided before we even began the drive back to Alabama last year. I had to go back.

I had marked the race on my calendar and was patiently awaiting registration to open when I got an email from my boy Richard at Backcountry Research (one of the sponsors of DK). He had four spots available for sponsored riders and I had a chance to be one. After a couple quick emails I was in before registration opened along with Lee Neal, Thad Hoffman, and someone else whose name I cannot remember currently.

It was also around this time in January when I mailed my registration card in for Trans Iowa…no problem, I thought. Ride 330 miles at Trans Iowa, rest a week, train a couple weeks, rest, and go tear it up at Dirty Kanza for 200 miles. I’m dumb. Trans Iowa is known for putting the beat down on riders and it sure did a number on me. My right knee to be exact. That son of a bitch hurt too bad to even squat down or ride to work for three weeks. Uh oh, this was not part of my oh so simple plan to do two of the hardest bike races in the country back to back.

I was worried…but I also wasn’t buying the whole, “Well friend, if you ride that far something bad will happen.” I went to Bike Link on Highway 150 to get a fit from Joe Wenning. Joe has been doing fits for a long time and came highly recommended from my friend Boris. Long story short, Joe got me set up and I was on my way to give Kanza another go. Yet again, Lee came with me to race (Bici Coop, yo) and Zach…well, Zach ate bacon and drank beer. Kidding aside, Zach once again was good company and a badass crew. Thanks dude.

We stayed in a hotel, ate shitty food, and pondered what the race had in store for us this year. Ya know, things bike racers do on the way to bike races. Nothing exciting.

High Gear shop cat.It was raining on and off and forty degrees cooler than when we arrived in Emporia last year. It was strange but at the same time, the promise of cooler weather had my hopes up. I kept quiet as to not jinx it. The prerace meeting was similar to last year and I even won a sick purple koozie emblazoned with the Chamois Butt’r logo! Eric Benjamin (the Adventure Monkey) unveiled the amazing looking print for the winner of the David Pals Award for good sportsmanship. I knew I would not win the race but I’m a pretty good sportsman. I took a swig from Zach’s beer and set my event goal: get David Pals award. Well, that, and then there was the whole finishing thing. I was too full of self loathing from last year’s disaster to handle another DNF. I wasn’t even gonna think about quitting.

At 6 AM the next morning, 460 racers lined up outside the Granada Theater to take on 200 miles of midwest gravel. We were staged in waves this year by guesstimated finish time. We took a spot in the 18 hour area since it was closest to the car and looked around to see very few people behind us.

Back of the pack at the start
16 hour group looked better. I was amazed at how many people lined the streets to watch the start. People in Emporia are all about this race, it is so damn cool. All the stores have signs welcoming racers and places open early or stay open late.

Early roll out…and guy with moustache
After a mile or two of pavement, we hit gravel and I was instantly glad I chose to ride my mountain bike. The gravel was rough was being sprayed everywhere by the hundreds of riders in front of me. My mouth was already dusty. I could feel gravel settling into my helmet vents and pinging of my sunglasses.

Ten minutes into the race, I decided it was second breakfast time and munched on one of Melissa’s amazing ham and swiss sammies as I watched the sunrise off to the left. I was happy to be racing and simply focused on riding my bike rather than worrying about which wheel to follow or what paceline was faster. The urge to stay in pacelines with the gearies was strong and we did so for about 25 miles before stopping to shed some layers. As I pulled off the road I realized a rider near me (rather aggro fella at that) thought I had stopped in a ditch simply to let him by. This provided a good laugh and soon enough we settled into a group with a nice easy pace that I was content to stay with. It was great to have an actual map holder this year rather than digging it out of a pocket every two miles.

This is what the maps we got were like
Part of my plan this year was to obsessively watch the map it made my whole day better. The terrain was beautiful. The colors are so intense in the Flint Hills. Coupled with the remoteness of the region, it is just amazing. I remember at one point saying out loud to myself, “there is so much…nature out here.” It made sense at the time.

I switched to an easy gear (32/17 which is 55 gear inches) a couple days before the race and realized its awesomeness as we pedaled up one of the only long climbs of the race, Texaco Hill. I reached the top still breathing calmly and said hello to some locals watching from their tailgate. Leg 1 was 63 miles and we reached the “town” of Cassoday around 10:40 AM anxious to find Zach and get back on the round. I looked left, looked right, and rode around the parking lot some. No Zach. He was either lost, late, or still asleep. I placed my bets on the third option and pondered what to do. A lady beside me asked if I wanted water and food….um, yes! The race had an option this year to pay for support provided by the Pablove Foundation. The lady offering food was with the Foundation and saved the freakin’ day for Lee and myself. We refueled and hit the road, confident we would find Zach 45 miles down the road. Thanks Pablove people, you guys were awesome. You have a donation headed your way.

Leg 2 to Florence, KS was where I began to have a come apart last year after getting lost twice and chasing too hard in the heat to make up lost time. We made all the right turns this year, which felt like a huge victory and added to my lack of stress. It was maybe around mile 70 I began to notice my left knee hurt. I knew something would hurt during the race and figured that would be the culprit. The right one had recovered from Trans Iowa but the left one had bothered me the week before the race but was not even close to as bad as the right one had been a couple weeks before. I was also beginning to feel the consequences of riding a 135 gram Selle Italia SLR saddle in a 200 mile mountain bike race. It was punishing but I decided I would wait until Florence to dick around with it. We hit a really cool road I don’t remember the name of but it was super rocky and had a few shady creek crossings. The temperature was probably around 85 but my ever pessimistic Garmin had climbed up to 102 and was starting to psych me out. Before the race, I made a wild ass guess and suggested we keep a 13 mph average but sure enough we were pretty close to that. We were going a bit faster actually but I felt like we were riding easy. Around 2:15 PM we hit 105 miles and rolled into the second checkpoint in Florence.

Checkpoint Two in Florence. Hot.
This was possibly the happiest I had ever been to see Zach. Turns out he got to the first check ten minutes after we left it! He mentioned it was only 85 and I vowed to ignore the Garmin’s insane suggestions that we were approaching the center of the Earth.

Lee and I both made some taint saving saddle adjustments and got on our way, headed towards the section that had destroyed us so thoroughly in 2011. I felt well hydrated and strong but it was getting pretty warm. I noticed my calves were getting twitchy. I had actually noticed this 80 miles before this but began to take the issue more seriously and upped my mustard an salt intake which worked nicely. Twenty miles or so into this leg, we acquired a guy from Kansas City named John Welsh. John was also on a singlespeed and our duo was now a trio. A couple other riders joined us and the miles passed quickly as we rode and just generally shot the shit under the relentless Kansas sun. It sure was hot now but I was still sweating and actually looked forward to eating the food stuffed in my pockets. I was frequently starving and considered that a good thing. Suddenly, Lee hollered something unintelligible and swerved. I followed his wheel and saw a small turtle in the road. This was one of four turtles we saw during the race and managed to not hit any of them! I like turtles and didn’t want to run over one.

“Yurtle the Turtle” began to run through my head and I asked everyone if the knew who sang it. Nobody knew and it would take me another 50 miles to realize it was a Chili Peppers weirdo B Side. Me and Lee decided to stop and change maps and slowed down rapidly forgetting we now had a group of five or so people with us. Chaos ensued as people skidded to a halt and a guy on a Soma ran into Lee. We took off and now had a group of four that was working together quite efficiently to make it to Council Grove, the site of the third checkpoint at 165 miles into the race. Our fourth rider was the guy who ran into Lee when we stopped. His name was Ryan and this was his first bike race. I was an still am in amazement someone would choose a race this brutal as their first. I made a foolish mention of how calm the winds were and they instantly gusted up a couple times as a warning of sorts. Lesson learned, I didn’t say shit about the wind after that.

We began to see riders laying in ditches or in front yards trying to escape the heat. The beautiful gravel roads had become the avenues of broken dreams for those who had gone out too hard or forgotten to eat. After passing a bridge out sign we saw three riders standing in the road, one of which was vomiting onto the hot gravel. On we went. I realized early into the third leg I had not had to walk any hills yet and instantly vowed to not walk a hill the rest of the race no matter how steep it was. I mentioned this to Lee and he was on board. I gave him half a packet of chamois cream and we discussed the possibility of this act garnering me the David Pals award. It was a rush to ride the B Road section that ruined the race for me last year. B roads are awesome when dry and devastating when wet. Things were looking good, goals were being met, gravel was being crushed. As it should be.

John announced he had a flat and pulled of the road and we discussed what to do. He had everything to fix it, so Ryan, Lee, and myself went on without him. I saw a field off to the right that made me instantly think about Tom Petty. After some discussion, Lee and I decided the field looked like the album cover of Highway Companion.

We rolled into Council Grove and quickly found Zach. I drank part of a beer, then a Coke, and they both tasted wonderful.
Awkward chamois tending in Council Grove
I had been saving my iPod for when I found myself in a deep, dark pain cave but this moment didn’t seem like it would be happening. Yeah, I hurt. Lots. I didn’t mind, I was doing what I set out to do and had other things to think about. I found some Metallica on the iPod and we met up again with Ryan to knock out the last 37 miles back to Emporia. 37 miles! So close but I didn’t want to get cocky so I didn’t say much about it. Neither did Lee or Ryan. Scott McConnell was walking into Council Grove with a flat tire and a bum knee as we were leaving. I felt bad for him. We rode the last 30 miles of Trans Iowa together and I hoped he would finish this one too. Lots of people were quitting in Council Grove. That is how this race goes. Even under ideal conditions, many fail.

The weather was finally cooling off and the first seven miles of the fourth leg was an awesomely fast shaded rail trail. We rolled along at 17 mph which felt insanely fast after riding for 13 hours already. The hills on this part of the course were disgustingly steep. I made sure not to look at the percent grade on my computer. It didn’t matter, I was gonna ride them no matter what. It had already been decided. The course took us over a bridge where some people below were on a houseboat drinking beer and cheering us on. I was happy, jealous, and pissed all at the same time. They looked so comfortable and my pain level was steadily increasing, tempered only by hopes of finishing the race. As darkness fell, lights went on and navigation got trickier. The maps were hard to read but the course was marked better this year. I was shocked at how many riders on course simply depended on others to lead them around. I had decided before the race I wanted to know where I was at all times and now it was paying off. Thad and a couple other guys passed us twenty miles or so before the finish. I rode with them briefly but hung back to ride with Lee and Ryan to the finish.

There was some tense discussion at a couple intersections but we made all the correct turns and soon hit pavement. Two miles to the finish! I had been looking forward to the pavement since it would roll easier than the gravel. I didn’t realize what a disadvantage my bike would be once off gravel. Lee had a bigger gear than me and the others were on geared bikes. We were rolling fast and my heart was racing trying to keep up. I had no idea why were going so fucking fast but was too breathless to complain so I just accepted the last two miles would be really hard for no good reason. The pavement was marked with spray paint which was tough to see but I guess Lee had good spray paint vision and was proving to be a competent leader. The course went through the college campus in Emporia and we saw a red light up ahead. No traffic. Run it. A hundred yards to go.

The finish line scene on Commercial Street was nuts. There were so many people there and they were all so happy. Genuinely happy. Or drunk. Or maybe its all the same, who cares. It was awesome. I crossed the line with my two riding partners for the previous six hours and someone put a Finisher pint glass in my sweaty hand. People kept trying to shake hands with me and I was paranoid about dropping the pint glass.

I also wanted to fill the Finisher glass with what I though would be free Finisher beer. It wasn’t free.

The guy serving either felt sorry for us or liked us as he gave us the beer anyway. Soon after, a random piss drunk lawyer made friends with us and bought us beer after finding out we finished on singlespeeds. We talked to his family some. They were from Emporia and super nice. Malcolm from Colorado came up with a bucket of friend chicken and biscuits from KFC. I ate a biscuit that someone had already eaten part of as we watched the award ceremony. A guy with a gnarly beard walked up and gave me and Zach cards to join the Emporia Beard Club which I was really proud of.

Done. Sorta happy.Lee and his sparkly GunnarSomeone rode 200 miles on this. Baller.
I’ve never been as happy to finish a race as I was with this one. Last year’s failure made it that much sweeter. Thanks again to Zach for all the help, Pablove Foundation for the bailout, Backcountry Research for sending us, Melissa for being so cool about me doing stupid shit like this, and all the wonderful organizers and volunteers.

Oh yeah, we finished pretty well too.

I was 19th Place Singlespeed and Lee was 20th. We did the course in 16:28, beating cutoff by about five hours. Somewhere in the 120ish out of 460 overall racers. Here is the data on Strava.

Trans Iowa part III

alanbarton — Thu, 03 May 2012 07:44:12 -0500

Part 3: It’s 3 AM and I am riding my bike.

It was 8:45 PM when we left Checkpoint Bravo at 170 miles into Trans Iowa. Clouds overhead obscured whatever helpful moonlight and stars would have otherwise been out to illuminate the night. On went the lights. I usually run a super bright Ayup headlamp and no bar light. For some reason I am still unsure of I deviated and put the Ayups on the bar with a small AAA lamp on my helmet. The gravel was unimpressive from Checkpoint Bravo to Charlie. There was more “maintained” road with nasty fresh gravel to soak up our energy but the wind was mild and the hills smaller. Fair trade I suppose.

Lee had given me some helpful advice earlier in the day. “Yeah, I’m not thinking about the finish…I just know its 11 AM and I’m riding my bike.” This worked great during the night. I simply noted the time and that I was riding then thought about nothing else. It took a lot of pressure off.

We had a couple interesting incidents with cars in the night on gravel roads. Most required us to simply ride in on the shoulder and let them pass. Some yelled at us. I felt like I was back home in Birmingham and this warmed my heart. Thanks, assholes. Most everyone in the Midwest is helpful and friendly but there was to be a few bad (drunk) apples around. It took longer than I wanted (story of the race, there…) to get to Checkpoint Charlie but I was stoked to arrive. My previous visions of bonfires and Papa John’s were replaced by a dark pavilion next to a church.

This was Checkpoint Charlie. The guys there were super helpful again.

It had no time limit and they had some supplies to get us to the finish.

“Now you guys know there is nothing between here and Grinnell, right?” one of the volunteers asked.

“Yeah, we know,” I told him and quickly asked, “How many are behind us…do we need to save some supplies?”

“There are three guys back there but go ahead and get what you need.”

It was 135 miles to Grinnell from this location which was totally remote. My knee was killing me again, as was Lee’s. Bad thoughts ran through my head and I began the familiar process of filling bottles and Wingnut then stuffing as much food as I could fit in my pockets. They did have some Cokes there which made me very happy at the time. I wanted to call Pete to come get me. I wanted to quit. I think Lee did to some extent also. We had been talking about our knees and both decided it was okay to continue. I deal with hurt knees all day as a therapist and know when one is seriously damaged. Mine just hurt like a mofo. Some hurt I can deal with, or a lot of hurt as it would turn out. I peed on a tree and felt some cold raindrops begin to fall…more rain? Dammit. I was cold, I didn’t want it to rain.

I thought of Pop’s words - “John…you can’t get mad at the weather.”

I put on my shell pants and a synthetic insulated vest, my emergency don’t die in the night gear. Turns out this was mostly for psychological reasons to get me to leave Checkpoint Charlie. A mile down the road I was sweltering and skidded to a halt to remove the vest. It was now past midnight and the reality of our night was setting in. I am usually a spot on night rider and thrive on it but did not feel right. I wasn’t as tired as I was disoriented. My different light setup was playing tricks on my head and fatiguing my eyes, I couldn’t focus on shit and became increasingly dependent on Lee’s ability to read the cue sheets. I was jealous of his headlamp and wishing I used something different. At least the rain had stopped for now.

I got off my bike to pee in a ditch and almost fell into it. What the hell was that?

Back on the bike, we rode more and more loose gravel. Lee was Boy Scout prepared for the night and brought an iPod which I also envied. I don’t remember ANY roads from the night, just vague characteristics of them. They were gravel, very dark, and difficult to find a clean line to ride. I was thankful to have some gels with caffeine with them and looked forward to grabbing one at the top of every hour. I was still falling asleep on the bike, usually on the downhills. I would be going 30 mph down the gravel, fall asleep, wake up and have no idea where I was but still be riding next to Lee. Small miracle we didn’t run into each other or a ditch during the night.

The cows sounded spooky, I guess they would rather moo at night than sleep. There were lots of other animals out there and they creeped me out. A possum ran into the road and Lee swerved to try and hit it. I hallucinated a lot during our night riding. At first I thought there were more animals running out in the road then I noticed a duplicate of Lee riding with us, then a third. Lee thought a pile of straw was valuable timber someone left in the ditch. I wanted daylight bad. I knew I would feel better with some light to ride by.

4 AM came around and it stormed again, pretty hard this time. I got really frustrated trying to put on my rain jacket. My knee was hurting enough by this point if I took a bad pedal stroke I instantly broke out in a sweat. My prayers for relief were answered by a jaunt through a town with a gas station that had some Aleve. The guy inside was mean but the Aleve helped both our knees. We also ran across the group of Adam Boone and Scott with a few others but they left before us.

Finally daylight came around and I was overwhelmed by happiness and we began to do some math on probability of finishing. All we had to do was average 9 MPH and we could make it by the 2 PM cutoff in Grinnell. The possibility of some smoother roads seemed very possible since the ones during the night sucked so much. It never always gets worse, right? Well that is true but sometimes it takes a long ass time to get better and this was the case on Sunday morning. I began to feel better and was riding more hills. We had about a 5 mile section of tailwind around mile 280 which was just glorious.

The more we rode the more hills we had to go up. They were huge, relentless, and often into a headwind. We made it all the way to mile 290 before making a wrong turn. The directions said bear left at so and so road. There was an obvious bear left here with tire tracks but the road sign pointed straight ahead. Lee and I were both dumb and confused here. If in doubt at Trans Iowa FOLLOW THE NAME OF THE ROAD. We followed the tracks for a mile or two and realized it was wrong. Backtracking was disgustingly hard, the road was all loose gravel and was uphill with a headwind (seeing a theme here…). It took quite awhile and instead of having a comfortable 4 hours and 30 minutes to cover 40 miles we were down 4 hours. We still considered this doable and found the correct road. The next issue was food and water. Lee was low. So was I.

I saw a house with a hose and strolled up to knock on the door to ask if I could use the hose when I noticed a very large dog sleeping next to the door. I backed away very slowly while Lee filled up a few bottles. The dog experiences had been mild so far (very friendly chasing, no biting) but I didn’t want to press my luck. The hills continued and we were walking most of them. While cresting a hill Lee said, “I think I’ve hit a wall.”

Hm, this was not good. I know Lee well enough to know if he says something like that he is bad off. I also know he would ask me for help if he needed it. Rather than have a drawn out conversation about his condition I went ahead and left to go by myself to the finish. I also didn’t want to deal with the whole Pete coming to find him then trying to pick me up too thing. I ate my last Clif bar with three hours and thirty miles left in the race. I came to a town and was destroyed when I saw the one freaking gas station in town boarded up. I turned right onto more gravel and began noticing a trend with my directions. Right turns took me south and left took me east…I was going southeast to the finish. This was bad due to the constant headwind…I even rode through a working windfarm in this section! It was really cool to see but reinforced my troubles in my head.

I came up on Chris who I had ridden with Saturday and he said he was done. He gave me a couple pieces of food to last me until the finish. Thanks man! I owe you some beer if I ever see you again! I picked up my pace again to try and make it in by the 2 PM cut. My knee still was killing me in the now constant headwind but that would be over soon. I saw a rider in a yellow jacket which I realized was Scott McConnell. Thank God…a human I could ride with again. I put in a burst of speed to catch him and we settled into a moderate pace. The headwindy sections began to get longer and slowed us down more. I felt like a critical moment of the race was occuring when I realized we had to 18 miles in 90 minutes. Not effin’ likely in the wind. We discussed the now impossibility of making the time cut but both wanted to finish the course.

We slowed down some and chatted the whole way back to Grinnell. It was great, really enjoyed Scott’s company out there. I rode a good bit with his friend Thad at Dirty Kanza last year who was also entertaining. I like Nashville folks just fine I think. We had conceded but Trans Iowa wasn’t done with us yet. It stormed again and the temp dropped. I didn’t care a bit, I was so close to being done. The final kick in the gut was a long, nasty B road 5 miles from the finish. My brain was no longer totally right and I rolled my bike right into the sticky mud like it was a do it yourself car wash. My 20 pound bike now weighed about 40 and I alternated rolling it in a ditch and carrying it until my neck hurt too much. We rode the rest of the course back into Grinnell in a steady rain and finished in 35 hours and 30 minutes. The time cut was 34 hours. Everyone was gone from the finish area but I still felt proud I did the whole course without quitting. The dissapointment of missing the time cut…well, it really didn’t bother me much and still doesn’t. I’ll save the coulda woulda shouldas…everyone has them and they don’t mean much. I tried hard and did my best. If I do it again I learned plenty this year that will help me nab an official finisher spot next time. I think Lee really wants to go back and I will probably go with him. Anyone else from Birmingham in?

After the race I huddled in the floor of an Element belonging to the guys from Nashville who let me have some food. Thanks, you guys were awesome. Pleasure to meet all of you. Pete and Lee showed up a few minutes later. Lee cracked after I left and had Pete come get him after completing 300 miles of the course. Pretty dang good. Lee is a great friend of mine and a tough rider. Glad to have him out there with me all those hours. I hopped into Lee’s truck and was taken aback at the amount of food and beer Pete had sourced while we were racing…partly because I had nowhere to sit and I was freezing my ass off. Amazing the effort he put into helping out a couple lunatics he barely knew race some gravel course for a day and a half.
ShelledRode in to Grinnell like this. B Road tenacity.Wouldn’t be a race without a beer that looks like motor oil.I was done. Things were finally better, they had just stayed worse for a long, long time.

Out of 67 starters, 19 finished by 2 PM, and I think Scott and I were the last two on course.

Final post will be a detailed account of bike, gear, and other stuff I used at Trans Iowa. I left out these details in the first couple posts because I felt it would take away from what really makes Trans Iowa what it is which is all the awesome people involved with it. Stay tuned.

John and Lee's Epic in Iowa continues...

alanbarton — Wed, 02 May 2012 21:22:34 -0500

Part 2: Dude, Where’s My Monstercross?

Within a minute of my 2:30 A.M. alarm going off Saturday morning I was staring at the weather report. Still cold. Still windy. Still suck. Lots of suck. This is what I had planned for and it looked like we were gonna get it. I wolfed down some food and went down to load the bikes up in Lee’s truck. It looked scary outside.
Iowa sky right after sunriseStill very windy and the ground was soaked from an overnight downpour. The windchill was 20 degrees. It really didn’t seem like that many people were present at the start. 100 had registered. 67 were present. Attrition begins early at Trans Iowa.
Last minute fiddling

Wingnut and ah, wingnutsCold wet startLee and I had a tentative agreement to stick together unless it just all went to hell and we got separated or died, that sort of malady. Guitar Ted did a controlled lead out right at 4 A.M. out of Grinnell onto the now mushy gravel roads. I tried to ride smooth and not run into other riders and was shocked at how fast the pace was. I didn’t want to push hard this early but also wanted to make it to Checkpoint Alpha 52 miles down the road by the 9:30 A.M. cutoff. Most of the cutoff times at Trans Iowa are based on a 10 MPH average. That is not a rolling average, it is TOTAL so ya gotta be moving good to make it and not get cut. One minute late and you’re out! GT mentioned he had given us extra time to reach this first check and we were finding out why.

I zoned out watching the lights ahead of and behind me and just sorta pedaled in my own world.

I quickly realized I was by myself so slowed up to wait on Lee and some others to catch me so I wouldn’t be alone in the now down to a pleasant 25 MPH headwind coming from the East. Lee and I were soon joined by a singlespeeder from Kansas named Warren and a few other guys I was not able to introduce myself to. The course has heading straight into the wind and hills were plentiful. I was torn. I felt like I was working too hard in our paceline and a couple guys were absolutely hammering the hills but on the flipside we were still only averaging 10 MPH despite our efforts! I was too scared to let the relative speed and safety of our group pass me by and I guess Lee felt the same. I was choking trying to eat because of the fast pace but knee better than to skip on calories during something like this. It had stopped raining at this point but the damage had been done to the roads. Wet gravel bounced off my glasses from the guy’s tire in front of me but no way I was losing my wind protection. After maybe 10 miles of this frantic pace the group began to splinter and I saw the concerned look on Lee’s face. The pace was too fast. Way too fast. Shit.

Around 20 miles into the course we entered the first B Road of the course. B road are unmaintained dirt roads that turn into a horrible bike sucking mess when wet, think DSG 2009. From past experience I knew better than to ride and gingerly began rolling my bike in the wet ditch along side the road. We got off the hook after a mile and it has back on the road into the wind to head towards Checkpoint Alpha in the small town of Montezuma. Iowa has many small towns and they all look quite similar. My memory is fuzzy of the last miles heading to the first checkpoint but I knew we would make it on time but not by much. The ground had a bunch of loose gravel on it from the county maintainers which wasn’t helping the quest for easy speed. If I was maintaining them I’d be out there with a broom…just sayin’. My legs hurt. My back hurt. I needed to recover some. Lee and I spun along at a more casual pace and pushed the steeper hills. After exactly five hours, we were at Checkpoint Alpha with 30 minutes to spare! At the time, I was too fatigued to be excited about our minor success.

“How ya feelin’ John?” Aaron Gammell asked me. I was now forced to take a look at how shitty I actually felt. I was cold, worried, and fatigued. I felt like I had just ridden the hardest race of my life and had 280 miles to go! My fingers were too cold to open my Ziplocs with the cue sheets in them so my attention turned to restocking at a local C Store. At Trans Iowa, you find your own food…nobody gives it to you. No sag station Oreos or Cheez Its. Same for water. I had a capacity for 150 oz. and filled it all, no telling where the next store would be. I was worried about the feeling in my legs and trying to push away the negative thoughts so I simply pedaled onto the next section of the course. This leg was 120 miles to Checkpoint Bravo. We spent too much time at the C Store and now had exactly 12 hours to get there. Before the race this would have seemed like eons but now…it seemed like a very pressing matter to be dealt with.

Turns out this section was great, my favorite of the course in fact. I met plenty of new people through here, first of which was the guy who puts on the Alamanzo Royal race in Minnesota. He was a strong rider and pulled away on a rare flat section of road. The course was now heading southwesterly through Iowa which meant less headwind! We came up on two geared riders who had a similar pace to us and more importantly, a pleasant demeanor. In a race like Trans Iowa, attitudes are infectious and a rider with a bad one can be deadly to those around him. The two riders were Adam Boone, marketing director for Gu Energy, and his friend Chris. Adam told me he had finished 8th last year and was out with the lead group this year when he decided he lacked the motivation to go for a record pace.

The four of us chatted about everything under the sun… or clouds as it was on this Saturday afternoon. Of course, the promising weather forecast was bullshit. The wind had died down some but it was still present along with a 50 degree high and cloudy, dreary skies. We were having a good time and had a great pace going with smoother, more friendly roads. We came across a fella on a Salsa Vaya from Nashville having a rough mental time of it. “I should have just done the Cohutta 100 again…I’m gonna quit soon,” he remarked.I tried to give him a pep talk partly to boost my own mental state but knew he would be done soon. There was supposed to be another B Road through here but our wonderful tour guide detoured us around it!

I don’t recall what town or what mile it was when a great convenience store opportunity presented itself. We took another too long of a stop but it seemed worth it as I was able to KO an entire gas station pizza and found my favorite candy, a Reese’s Fast Break. The fella on the Vaya and a few others quit here. If you are going to bail at Trans Iowa better to be in a city than a ditch 50 miles from anything. Lee had been complaining about his knee since mile 50 and I was suddenly aware of my right knee as we started pedaling again..

It wasn’t uncomfortable or achy. It fucking hurt.

I was baffled…I’ve had some left knee issues over the years but the right knee is usually the star of the show and now it was wavering. Put some Advil down the hatch and pedaled on. Somewhere along the way we lost Adam and Chris but neither Lee nor myself wanted to commit a chase group and potentially waste energy. We were both bummed about this turn of events but on we went.

Soon enough we came up on the Nashville guys with Scott McConnell, also on a singlespeed. We rode with them briefly but decided their pace was too hot to be sustainable so let them have at it.

The cue sheets were awesome…no wrong turns yet. No flats or mechanicals. Things were going pretty well. Attitudes were positive but our knees continued to degrade. Sharp, intense pain on the inside of my knee which I think was caused by too much seated climbing. Standing climbing and easy spinning was fine but if there was a headwind and I had to pedal it was on fire.

Around 8:30 PM Lee and I cruised in to Checkpoint Bravo with an hour to spare 170 miles into the course. The volunteers there were very helpful and gave us a rundown on the race. Lots of TI vets (read: badasses who have finished this behemoth before) had already dropped and we were somewhere around 25th or 30th place at that time. We got our sheets with directions all the way to the finish back in Grinnell. 157 more miles. Woah. I was low on water but apparently there was a secret location Checkpoint Charlie 30 miles ahead. Our attitudes were lifted by the hope of fresh food and water. It was now dark and the lights went on. I was pumped. Visions of all sorts of greatness at the next checkpoint spun around in my head. I was ready for a bonfire, pizza, some ice cold Coke perhaps. Who knows…they might have music too. I also took a glance at the Garmin. 8500 feet elevation gain so far out of 13,000 feet described in the pre race info.

“Awesome,” I thought out loud, “we have most of the climbing behind us.” This would also turn out to be a figment of my imagination. You have to have some delusions going through your head in the first place to attempt this race.

Gravel crunched as we rolled into the now dark and increasingly ominous Iowa countryside totally unaware of how much difficulty the last half of Trans Iowa had in store for us.

John and Lee are the real deal: Trans Iowa part I

alanbarton — Wed, 02 May 2012 06:46:54 -0500

From John’s blog:

Part 1: The West Wasn’t Won on Salads

Last week at the Sunny King Crit Kyle Campbell posed a question to me that made me pause.

“…so what made you want to do Trans Iowa?” he asked.

This made me think hard and I quickly scurried away to the free beer tent with Tyree to ponder my friend’s question.

I should interject here for those wondering ,”What the hell is Trans Iowa?”

It is an unsupported mountain bike race in rural Iowa on gravel and dirt roads. The course ranges between 320 and 340 miles with a time limit of 33-35 hours most years. It’s hard. Most people don’t finish. It’s dangerous and scary. There is no entry fee. The weather is shitty up there in the spring. Whats not to like?! Here is some info:

Race Website: Trans Iowa Race Page
Race History: Trans Iowa Race History
Race Rules: Trans Iowa Race Rules

I have been fascinated with Trans Iowa for years. Some years a few people finish. Some years nobody finishes. I noticed a vast array of bikes the riders used, everything from road bikes to full suspension 26ers. The thing remaining the same every year(apart from the insane weather) was the way it seemed to change those that participated. The pictures and stories were crazy. I lurked from afar but couldn’t shake my interest in what is one of the hardest bike races in the country if not the world.

The last straw came at last fall’s Chainbuster 9 Hour at Oak Mountain. I was shooting the shit with George Mattison and Lee Neal when they asked me if I was in for Trans Iowa. “Sure,” I replied. It was done. We were going. Sorta.

I waffled on the call right up until the deadline for postcard entries and sent it in with Melissa’s sleepy blessing. The Alabama boys got in with 97 other lunatics. I put in some nasty miles this winter in preparation. Lee did also. George did some then bailed…next year, George? Anyway, the prep. 35 and rainy? I rode. Dark? No problem. Seven hour fixie ride day after food poisoning? Yeah, that happened too. Not one of my better decisions. My coworkers think I am a moron who will refuse a ride home no matter what. They are right. Body and bike were comin’ along just dandy but the logistics were proving to be a real bitch.

The hardest part was finding a support crew. This isn’t your typical support crew at Trans Iowa, the can’t do anything for you except come get you when/if you quit. Eventually Pete Foret stepped up the month before the race and proved to be the best damn support crew we could have asked for. He has my eternal respect and gratitude after this weekend. Great guy, thanks dude.

I wasn’t that nervous leading up to the race, mostly concerned about the weather and my bike/gear setup. The weather I couldn’t do much about. As my Pop once told me with a wry smirk while I glared at the rain, “John, you can’t get mad at the weather!”

Gear setup is a huge deal for this race. Mess it up and you get to think about it for 35 hours best case scenario. Worst case scenario you freeze and get hypothermia or have to hide in a ditch while your crew drives a hundred miles to come look for you…that’s assuming your cell works. I’m an obsessive planner for races and was pretty happy with what I brought. My setup will get it’s own post after all the racin’ stuff is typed.

Pete instantly asserted his road trip dominance by driving us the whole freaking way to Iowa Thursday night in one go. We had the right guy. I slept like crap in the truck and worse in the hotel. Oh well, I considered it practice for all the sleep deprivation yet to come in the race. I woke up with a couple missions on Friday morning in Grinnell, Iowa. I wanted to get my homemade cue sheet holder windproof firstly. Lee bought a premade one which looked burly and I was growing worried about my flimsy piece of shit I spent hours making. The wind was a sustained 30-35 mph which is stronger than I have ever been in. Even getting out of the truck was rough in the wind. A couple office clips later and the holder was better but not real inspiring. My other worry was dogs and Lee’s preparation outdid me again as he showed me the pepper spray he packed. A couple guys at the local shop, Bikes to You, told me not to fret so I followed orders and headed over to the prerace meeting at the Grinnell Steakhouse.

This place was sweet. You get your own meat of choice and grill it on a giant grill inside. I made another bad choice and got chicken…I’m a dumbass. You can cook chicken like a champ and you still have a stupid piece of chicken. I wanted BEEF. As a bumper sticker I had seen earlier in the day read, “The West wasn’t won on salads.” We ate at a table with the Braun bros from Wisconsin who would be leading the event for awhile the next day. After eating Guitar Ted got on with the prerace meeting and we got to see a film by Jeff Frings called 300 Miles Of Gravel, a documentary of last year’s race. Seeing the riders’ condition in the movie was eye opening and I appreciated Guitar Ted’s obvious passion for an event he puts on for free.

300 Miles of Gravel Trailer from Jeff Frings Photography on Vimeo.

Back in the hotel room, Lee and I were pissing around with gear when Pete made an excellent point which proved instrumental in our survival.

“Ya know, you can always take clothes off but you can’t find any extras in an Iowa ditch…”

Fuck it. I packed everything. Weight be damned, it was brutally cold, windy, would likely rain and I wasn’t going to underdress as my bad experience at Southern Cross doing so still weighed heavily on my mind.

I checked the weather one last time before falling asleep.Rainy and 39 degrees at the start with 25mph wind from the East. Saturday afternoon looked better with 55 degrees on the screen and Sunday looked downright pleasant with partly sunny skies and a high of 60. I was skeptical since it still sounded like a small scale hurricane was outside.

The wind buffeted the side of the hotel room and I heard large raindrops began to splat against the window. I was still excited to get on with the race but very aware of what rain would do to the course.

In four hours it would be time to rock and roll.

diybirmingham: Bici Coop’s Annual May Day Hill...

alanbarton — Tue, 01 May 2012 19:17:19 -0500

diybirmingham:

Bici Coop’s Annual May Day Hill Climb »RSVP

Meanwhile in Tuscaloosa...

alanbarton — Fri, 30 Mar 2012 08:02:36 -0500

Boris Simmonds has been training a lot over the winter for road season, he took it to the Tour of Tuscaloosa this past weekend. Here’s his write up.

Enter Road Racing - Tour de Tuscaloosa 2012

Disclaimer: I have not “blogged” in a while, so this is a bit of a novel!

This weekend I was blessed with the opportunity to compete in my first “real” road race, the 6^th Annual Tour de Tuscaloosa. The TDT takes place over two days beginning with a criterium race near downtown T-Town followed by a road race near Lake Lurleen the next morning. Having spent the whole winter on a legitimate fitness plan with Pat Allison’s Lead it Out Cycling, I was more than eager to stretch my legs and see if this whole training plan was legit. With the weather beautiful and race form beginning to develop, this weekend was the perfect chance to learn what road racing is all about. It is about skill, endurance, and strength… it welcomes those with confidence and rewards the few with finesse. Road racing, especially crit racing, is ballsy and is not kind to sissies. Most of all, racing requires you to use your head, a lesson I learned the hard way.

TDT Day 1: Cat 5 Criterium

For those who don’t know already, a criterium is like NASCAR for bicycles…only our “engines” aren’t all stock and many have smaller gas tanks than others. The bikes have no roll cages to keep you safe when you bump against other racers (or objects) and the moment you pop off the back of the peloton, you’re out for good. This means there is a constant drive for individuals to get to the front without actually being at the front. It gets chaotic, but played smart it can be performed easily enough to allow you to go virtually unnoticed until the final meters when you dash out of the group and take the victory for yourself. That is how you win a criterium. The pictures below show how to lose a criterium.

Towing the Cat 5 Crit like a boss/fool.
Putting in another dig at the front near the end of the same lap.

In retrospect I suffered from a complete lack of strategy, false confidence, and plain dumbness. I not only ignored everything that I had learned about riding on the road, but also the advice of my riding companions and what my body was telling me. Perhaps it was pride that made me want to just sit and pull. Whatever the reason, I rode stupid. After the race I was reminded by my good friend Jacob Tubbs that the only time you need to be in front is at the finish. It reminded me of when my dad used to tell me in soccer that all I need to do is put the ball in the goal… but I wanted to dribble around people and pass and slide tackle… this time I finally learned my lesson.

I rode off the start at threshold and did my best to push the pace and match every attack. I was too scared to sit on another wheel to closely as I didn’t trust most the riders in the race yet. I was convinced that every rider in the group was a Cat 5 because they rode once a month. I was also too anxious to move backwards because I felt I could miss the winning breakaway. My reasons for riding the way I did were conflicting and prematurely formed. Thus, in the end, I took a really hard pull into a ruthless headwind for the last lap and missed the jump into the last turn before the sprint, finishing 4^th, just out of the multi-tools (no money L in Cat 5). On the bright side, being up front gave Hanh several chances to get some neat photos, of which I was clearly able to go back and see exactly when attacks were made. Unfortunately, the beef of the race took place after the starting downhill on an exposed flat directly into the headwind and in the short grunt climb that followed. No photos were taken there, but it’s on Strava, so it happened I swear!

TDT Day 2: Cat 5 Road Race

Saturday night I spent the entire drive home to Hoover cursing at myself for making such a novice error in the day’s crit. I really wanted to make an impressive show at my first race, and I did, but in a bad way. So I committed myself to a new plan – become the laziest, most selfish cyclist in the Cat 5 peloton at the road race. I got home and pinned my numbers to my jersey for the day to come, and helped myself to two servings of turkey, marinara sauce, and spaghetti squash with white rice and a fruit smoothie before dozing off…ZZZ…

5:45 AM arrived quickly and I immediately acquainted myself with a bowl of oatmeal and a banana before making my way out to Lake Lurleen for the road race. I arrived with about 30 minutes to spare so I quickly got into my kit and out on the road to warm up and have a gander at the mile-long finishing climb that reminds me of Karl Daly, but with a slight downhill before the finish line. Warmed and ready for a day of sitting in I picked a spot in the front quarter of the race to watch the Pro/1/2’s take off. Our race began with a neutral start into the triple stair-step climb where almost immediately people began to grab brake, surge, or change lines without reason. Once the race began, the pace didn’t change. I think the first lap may have contained an attempt or two to breach the peloton, but from where I sat nothing appeared planned or well executed. In our first turn off of Sam Sutton Road, some fool took off sprinting on the downhill over the rumble pads before sliding out in the turn and nearly taking others with him. Who attacks a downhill into a 90-degree turn with gravel in it? Someone thought it was a fantastic idea!

Our first stroll through the finishing hill was uneventful, but it quickly became apparent that the same top five from yesterday’s criterium would be setting the pace. While my original strategy was to hide in the group, my general disdain for sitting on another novice’s wheel led me to the front where I took rotations regularly. However, if I was in the lead I made sure I was in nothing more than tempo/Z3 pace, and at times sat there in Zone 2 waiting for others to come around. I felt selfish, and lazy, but I knew after yesterday that nothing else would work better. Our second lap around there were some more breakaways, including one from the 3^rd place crit finisher who must have burned everything up in the effort as I don’t recall seeing him near the front after that lap. John Newsome and Kyle Campbell put a lot of time in the front on this and the last lap and so we had some time to chat and play some games. One idea that came up was to push the pace a little on the finishing climb on lap 2 and see if we could trim some of the fat off of the peloton. While a true breakaway group never formed, I heard later than in the effort a good deal of riders did burn too much energy and popped before the stair steps leading into lap 3.

In Lap 3 I grew impatient. I knew I should just sit it, but I began to entertain the idea of taking off on my own. At the base of the first stair step I sprinted up to the false flat generating a small gap…nothing to be proud of, so I sat up and waited for Mr. Newsome of ST3 Cycling to bridge up. Then I remembered something Phillip had told me about attacking right when a group works to bridge to you, so I went again hard on the second step and put a bigger gap…however I didn’t want to start working just yet I sat in and enjoyed the increased pace for a while before the group caught up again. The ride was pretty neutral at this point and even had a few super-slow segments where nobody wanted to take a pull, so when we reached the base of Sam Sutton Hill I gave a hard push and sprinted up and over… looking back I probably had a 20+ second gap that was only growing as I pedaled. I felt I could have led it out to the end there as Sam Sutton Road had lots of good rollers for me to power through; but I was lacking in confidence after the night before and didn’t want to make a mistake so I sat up and enjoyed about a minute of soft pedaling before rejoining the group. Somewhere in this road an older guy launched on a flat but we all jumped on for the free ride and it quickly ended. As we hit the treacherous turn off of Sam Sutton I took my place up front. I stayed at zone 3 somewhere in the low/mid-20’s and waited for the turn onto the finishing climb. To my surprise nobody came around with an attack. We were shaped like Canadian geese with me at the front. I looked back several times nervously waiting for an attack, but I didn’t see any of the faces that had given me trouble the night before. When we turned on to the finishing climb, I flipped a few gears down and just set a steady effort to the top. Kyle Campbell of the NSAT crew led a hard chase behind me up through the false flat but fell off at some point. I think he was the only person to jump on my wheel as I took leave of the peloton, and it came as a surprise to me. I weaved back and forth across the road trying to shake him off my draft… the finish came as a relief and I was glad to have done the day’s race right. My number one goal was to not repeat the crit’s mistakes, and riding smarter paid off. Looking back I got to watch John and Rueben of ST3 take 2^nd and 3^rd at the sprint, giving the Alabama boys a podium sweep. I was glad to keep the Pensacola peeps at bay…the hills may have helped!

At the close of my first road race I was awarded the Alabama Cat 5 State Championship medal and a dinky cyclocomputer, which will join my collection of multi-tools. I got to watch Brian Toone dominate the Pro/1/2 field, including riders like Andy Crater and Frank Travieso by a huge gap. I got to witness the strengths of fellow riders like John Newsome and Kyle Campbell, and I met several new people whom I will continue to race with in the future, God willing.

I have posted the photos Hanh took at the criterium on facebook, but I included this short snapshot of my performance data from Strava. I would have posted my Training Peaks charts if I had a power meter, but without one, I still rely either on my rollers (speed) when training indoors or on Strava’s approximated power (only valid-ish when riding alone, but still not accurate for sure). Regardless, when I compare my efforts this weekend to rides in the past, Strava is suggesting that my threshold power is well over 100 watts from where it was in August of 2011. When I have real numbers from a power meter I will post those (I’m due for a computrainer test, but have too many races this month to do it). For now I have a half-jokingly annotated reason for my race data…some people learn from books, other from advice, and some just have to pee on the electric fence. The evidence is clear that training this winter with Pat has boosted my fitness in a huge way, and I can’t wait to take back some KOM’s from you-know-who, or at least try. But I need to get smarter. Good riding this weekend everyone!

Southern Cross 2012 report wrap up!

alanbarton — Mon, 27 Feb 2012 17:43:44 -0600

We had a great time this year at Southern Cross. Sam was our best placed rider at 4th place Single speed (26th Overall) followed by Boris, John, Alan, Lee, Zach, Daniel, and Ross. There is some great coverage over on Cylcingdirt as well as reports from Alan, John and Sam. Y’all be good; MTB season starts next week.

That's a wrap for Bamacross for now.

alanbarton — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 09:15:46 -0600

What a fantastic season. We had a truly fantastic group of people ride with us this year and can’t wait to see the bigger and better things we can do for next year. With 31 podium appearances, 3rd place overall in the team competition and 4 podium positions for individuals in the series Bici brought it this season. None of this would have been possible without our family of riders, friends and fantastic sponsors. Not to forget the madman behind it all, Brent Marshall, making cyclocross THE cycling discipline of Alabama.

This blog won’t be going completely silent though. We have a large contingent racing Southern Cross next month as well as a road and mountain bike team racing through the summer. Lee and John are doing their thing with Trans Iowa and Dirty Kanza and I’m sure they will have some stories to tell. Thanks for following and stick around.

-Vive Bici

Alan

Southern Cross Training by Sam

alanbarton — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 21:51:32 -0600

Today I decided to go out to Oak Mountain State Park to figure out a good course to train for the Southern CX Race. After looking at Alan Barton’s Strava from last years race I knew this race was more about elevation gain than distance. I also have to give Lee Neal, George Mattison and others a shout out because they used a variation of this to train the last few years. Oak Mountain has some good climbs for cx, especially Pevine road and the boy scout road climb. The red trail fire road would also be great, but it is hard to ride on a cross bike without getting a flat. Anyway, here is basically one lap of what I plan to do for the next few free Sundays before the race. One lap of Southern cx training. I had to work today otherwise I would have done this twice. Now all there is left to do ride and find the right single speed gear ratio. I’m excited to train for and race this race, all I hear are good things.

John K rode the Skyway today and had this to say...

alanbarton — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 21:47:54 -0600

For those of you not in the know, the Skyway Epic is a section of trail/ forest road in the Talladega National Forest that goes from Sylacauga to Adam’s Gap near Mount Cheaha in Anniston. This will be featured in the Skyway Epic race on May 20. Brent is still figuring out logistics but one can assume if it comes from Brent’s mind it will be wonderful, hard, and feel like getting kicked in the gut a thousand times.

I will not be able to attend the race since me and Melissa will be at the Hangout Music Festival but uh, I still wanted to preride it. Thanks to the facebook Skyway Epic group it was pretty easy to coordinate a ride and amazingly enough everyone showed up plus a few bonus folks.

I should mention it has rained a Costco sized shitload here in Alabama the past few days. Yes, we got wet. Yes, the trail is rideable in the wet and handles water well. More on that in a minute.

We had an awesome group this morning. Boris and I rode out to meet Lee, George, Stewart, Matt, John Newsom, Mike the Cramper, Gavin, Tony Esposito, and JD. Big group of good riders. Big groups are great but with an increase in group size it is common to see an exponential rise in mechanicals and waiting around. We had lots of waiting but only one mechanical.

The rain held off but a thick blanket of fog covered the National Forest. I didn’t take many pictures because we could really only see about 50 feet at any given time. The trail looked great considering all the rain. There were huge puddles and some slick spots on climbs but overall not bad. ZERO peanut butter mud. Awesome.

Coming from the Sylacauga end the trail starts with maybe a 3 mile climb which isn’t bad. I was a bit sad there was so much fog, I’m sure the views are awesome out there. The area has a feel like that of the North Georgia mountains. About 8 miles in, Mike the Cramper rode up and announced his freehub had failed. After closer inspection a gnarled up chain was found and fixed and we were all done with mechanicals for the day!

Around 16 miles in there is a ripping fast downhill that comes out on the road for about 2 miles then climbs again. Mike was now having some cramping issues and went ahead and turned around. Ouch, hope he made it out ok. Not a good area to be in if you feel bad. The downhills are not your typical gravel fare with nasty turns waiting to wash out tires and rub your elbows raw. They require caution of a different sort. Folks with good line picking skills will be rewarded. Those that aren’t paying attention end up in some nasty ruts. Be careful. They are fun in an “Oh shit I’m going to die, but not really” way. The climbs were saturated with water and really took a lot of energy to get up today. This course is ALL climbing. It is hard and deserving of its name.

Singlespeed Course Notes: I used a 32/17 on a 29er out there today and really like it. It felt good everywhere but there are some grunt climbs going Cheaha to Sylacauga. I didn’t walk but really wanted to a few times. If I did the race, I would probably do a 32/16 on a 29er and hope for fast, dry conditions.

Bike Notes: Don’t use a cross bike, terrible idea. I think a 29er with a rigid fork, maybe a front squish would be good. Bring some durable, fast rolling tires and you will be happy.

We reached the turnaround point and I noticed the ride time was 2:12 on Gavin’s GPS. Pretty good I think. Elapsed time was ridiculous due to all the stops but I didn’t mind the breaks. Going back was much tougher. It began misting and I was now soaking wet. Our group for most of the ride ended up being Tony, Gavin, Boris and me with some switching around depending on who was hurting the most.

I was shocked at the amount of climbing in the final ten miles. It was nuts. They were steep and rutted out. Many looked the same and began to play tricks on my mind. I wanted to be back at the car but I was still digging the ride. Soon enough, the Element was in sight! Six hours later, we were back where we started. Soaking wet, exhausted, and smiles all around. Notice all the fog still around.

Done. So Done.

I was a bit surprised by the good legs I had today, being January and all…good omen for Southern Cross I hope. Killer ride today, if you haven’t been out there GO. I’ll be back soon.

LINK to Boris’ Strava data on today’s ride.

Just when you thought we were done, Bamacross returns to Brookside.

alanbarton — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 16:02:05 -0600

Due to a scheduling mix up Bamacross 9 saw us back in Brookside for the 5th time this season. No worries, with Brent at the helm there was no problem completely flipping the course upside down and all around. The course had features that we had seen before but throw in a lot more turns and a ton of mud you’ve got yourself a completely new course. The turnout was pretty low with road/mtn/lame season coming up and people transitioning into those disciplines but it was a good time none the less. In the first heat Kate lined up for the women’s race while Sam and Zach were all in for the Singlespeed race.

Kate crushing through the mud. Photo Carol Roark York

Sam soloing for the win. Photo Carol Roark York

Zach in the bog. Photo Carol Roark York

Kate had a great ride for another 2nd place finish while Sam rode away from the Singlespeed race with over a minute gap when all was said and done. Great job!

For the Men’s 4 race we had Daniel and Matthew rep the blue and brown. Daniel had a hard fought race, looking really strong through out and was able to net a 4th place finish.

Matthew was able to take off work to get a nice muddy ride in.

Daniel and Kyle in an epic battle for 3rd.

In the final race of the day Jonathan was the sole Cat 2 representative while Alan raced the Cat 3’s. Sam and Zach also lined up in the ‘here for the beer’ category, rocking heavy metal shirts, vests, jeans, and BMX bikes. They were definitely crowd favorites.

Jonathan had a solid ride for 5th in the Elite race. Photo Carol Roark York

Alan on his way to 4th in the Men’s 3 race. Photo Alan Laytham

Zach and Sam getting down. Photo Tommy Honeycutt

Only one race to go in the Bamacross series but don’t worry we’ve got some races on the books during the non cross months that should keep everybody busy.

Until next time.

fuckyeahgirlsandbikes: pedalfar: CX- Before and After (via...

alanbarton — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 17:02:01 -0600

fuckyeahgirlsandbikes:

pedalfar:

CX- Before and After (via KrisC.)

Mo in the Bici Team issue helmet!