Tales from the Trail

A few pics from a private Freeride Disneyland

2007-11-20T08:31:00.001-05:00

A few pics from a sweet, private location. The pics below are from a cascading drop line that starts with a skinny drop to g-out left hand turn to ladder step down to creek gap (about 10-12' wide)
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Future plans include multiple creek gaps, slalom'ish style down trail of the one pictured above.

A tale of a different sort...H2O inspired ramblings and thoughts about windsurfing

2007-06-11T20:48:00.000-04:00

Just yesterday I was able to not only get a good ride in at New Quarter, but some water time as well. The local windsurfing club I belong to, WET (Windsurfing Enthusiasts of Tidewater) are promoting a summer long learn to windsurf effort. After spreading the stoke to some newbies I was reminded of something I wrote back in 98.

The Wind

A fickle temptress, you feel her caress

A gift from the sky as she goes blowing by

Never knowing the regret you’ll feel

Trapped in a floating cage of steel

Windswells and whitecaps spread far and wide

Stir emotions strong inside

You close your eyes and soon you’ll see

Hooked and strapped you’re becoming free

Screaming along without a care

Across the water gleaming launching fat air

Free as a child happy and wild

Not a care to be found no longer earth bound

Floating it seems for such a long time

Liking this dream feeling quite sublime

Feeling so good you ask with a smile

Please sweet temptress won’t you stay awhile

Soaring just a little too far

The door of reality begins to creep ajar

Through it she flows leaving you now

Silently I whisper my solemn vow

Whenever I hear your sweet voice calling me

From soft summer breeze or strong winter sea

All of my tasks will I set aside

So that I might once more take you for a ride

Hello Glenn, Letter to a friend, The Wind continued

Arrived in Norfolk but not home just yet

Sailing deprived inspirations to paper I’ve set

Six months I had to feel the breeze

I’m afraid I’ve got the Mad Sailing Disease

The symptoms you’ll see are quite apparent

Equipment I must have, buy, beg, or rent

These things I need to quench my desire

If I’m not sailing soon, I’m afraid I’ll expire

For these words I seek not literary fame

Only that others that speak her name

Might see these words and crack a smile

At the mad ramblings of one whose not sailed in a while.

Some might call it obsessive, I choose to call it a nice selection

2007-05-26T23:53:00.001-04:00

A hand full of screw hooks, some zip ties, a drill, and viola a nice, tidy storage solution. Due to its storied past, the Klein, aka Buck, is prominently displayed front and center. Does it look like an addiction, as I prefer to describe it as a habit, addiction is such an ugly word.

Alcohol 'enthusiast' or drunkard...you make the call

2007-05-26T23:45:00.000-04:00

I've wanted a kegerator for the longest time, and now that I am out in the sticks proper, I decided to treat myself. The night that this picture was taken, a new drink was born...The PBJ.
Think of the classic Jager Bomb with a Patron twist. I decided to go with a Borat angle and call it, "Patron Bomb of Jager"....NICE!!!!

Bad things happen when you DJ w/an XC bike and clipless pedals

2007-05-26T22:06:00.000-04:00

Note to self: when you get that little feeling that you shouldn't do something, you should probably listen. I actually SAID to my neighbor and another friend that was over, I shouldn't be doing this (DJ'ing on the Fuel w/the seat post WAY too high and clipless pedals). Well I did it anyways and as soon as I hit the lip I knew it was bad. I tried to hit the eject button, but didn't get a clean release due to the clipless pedeals. I hit the ground HARD, resulting in a calcaneal fracture. My entire life could have gone by without learning about THAT bone. Chuck drove me to the hospital and 9 days later I had surgery. Three hours, one plate, 1o screws, and a quote from the orthopedic surgeon later, "at one point I stopped counting the bone fragments"...gee doc, you could have left THAT neat little detail out. This brings the total to 18 fractures. I am beginning to think my new screen name should be "scarred and broken"...

The outside a few days after surgery

The inside several weeks after surgery

Sprocket the wonder dog in action, Listening Ears style

2007-05-26T21:45:00.000-04:00

Sprocket and I at a local elementary school participating in a reading mentor ship program called Listening Ears.

Ponderosa part duex

2007-01-01T21:33:00.000-05:00

First couple of cuts to land stringers

First stringer landed

Ledge cut for stringers that will be on each side of stump

Stringers on other side of stump landed

The decking begins

On ramp for start of ride

This is what you see on the back side of the on ramp

Side view

Log ride to be, from the top looking down

From the bottom looking up

Side view

Oblique top view

The new Ponderosa...a Freeride paradise in the making

2006-11-20T22:06:00.002-05:00

After 11 years in the oh-so-posh "OV" I decided to hit the eject button and head out to the sticks. June was the month Surry the location. I picked up a 1,650' rancher on 2.25 acres of trail ready goodness. The topography out here is a gravity nut's wet dream. There is a ravine behind my house that is essentially a 'mini York River', and you can bet yo ass I'm going to milk every last drop of Mother Earth's pull right out of it. Thus far there are 2 log rides, 1 berm, a 9' table, and 2 more tables to be built at least 12-15'. Additionally, there will be an elevated skinny, teeter-totter, wall-ride, and whatever else we can dream up. MANY more pics to follow!

Good intentions, mechanicals, and things that go boom…(almost), An Exercise in Murphy’s Law known as the 12 Hours of Lodi Farm.

2006-11-20T21:58:00.000-05:00

To start things off on a sketchy note, if one were to buy into superstitions that is, we stopped off at a Wendys to grab some grub for the road. Our total for the meal was $16.66…ohhhhhh THAT number. I made a joke to Chuck and Tim about the total, and they were like dude that really isn’t too cool. Considering what was to follow, it seems as though it was a portent of things to come.

In keeping with our last race, we got there just in time. The original intent was to arrive at least by 6pm to allow time to set up camp, score a preride, and get settled in. To adhere to the saying, “the road to hell is paved with good intentions” we laid some serious asphalt because we weren’t even on the road until damn near 630 causing us to arrive at the site wayyyyy later than was ideal.

As a word of caution here are some things you really don’t want to do the moments just before a race:

a) try to drive a truck/trailer combo through a crowded camp site looking for the spot everyone else DIDN’T want

b) set up a multi room tent for the first time in the dark

c) figure out how your light attaches to your helmet

d) realize that your batteries are in fact NOT charged and you’ve forgotten your emergency back up lights (this is where the almost boom part comes in later)

A mental image of a chicken running around with its head cut off should come to mind at this point. We managed to get set up (for the most part) and make it to the riders meeting just in time to hear the promoter saying something about, “we’ve made the LeMans start even longer this year”…a collective “Gee Thanks” could be heard murmuring through the crowd. As luck would have it our intended lead off man, Tim, REALLY doesn’t like to run (more precisely his knees don’t like it when he runs), but hey, what are ya gonna do?

Because my batteries weren’t charged up, I got the honor of being the anchor man with Tim and Chuck taking the first two laps, to allow time for mine to charge up. This is where the almost boom part comes in. Again with the good intentions, we WERE going to find a spot for the generator, separate from the camp site (it’s an 8 Kw, 14 HP motor…..read LOUD), but time was short, so it never got unloaded. Tim is on trail, Chuck is making his preparations, and I’m trying to set up a transition area and basically just get settled in. I walk past the trailer noticing the FIVE GALLON gas tank is barely two feet away from the HOT exhaust of the generator. In my mind, a HOLY F’ING bat**** screams out, so I grab the gas tank and take it as far away from the generator as I can. By now, the plastic container had actually gotten hot to the touch, with the expanding vapors inside causing the container to actually SWELL UP. Needless to say, I was a bit shook up with the mental image of what could have happened. I crawled into the tent and tried to get some rest, which was of course, a futile attempt with said generator only feet from the tent.

Tim comes rolling into the camp area having just relieved Chuck and tells me what I’m in for…lots of climbing right from the start. I figure that I should start getting ready, and one of the first things I do is make sure my batteries are charged up and ready to go. The trend at this point is less than stellar, so in honor of that, I realize that after getting everything hooked up and loaded into my camelback, my light still isn’t working. Queue the chicken image again as Tim and I figure out how were going to daisy chain two lights for three people. I finally get loaded up and ready to go, so I take off from the camp to Start/Finish Line. Tick, tock, tick, tock,…I realize I’ve gotten there way too early AND its freezing out, but I don’t want to leave now to go back to the camp for a blanket or something because I might miss Chuck. Just when I thought I was going to have to get something he comes rolling in and we make the exchange.

Lap one of my first 12 hour race FINALLY begins and just as Tim said there is LOTS of climbing right from the start. I feel about as natural climbing as a Polar Bear would feel in the Sahara, so after much drudgery, I make it through the first section of the trail only to hear that distinctive DING. I stop to inspect my bike and find that a spoke has broken on my rear wheel. I don’t have a spare spoke with me, not that I’d take that much time to try and fix it on the trail side, so I wrap it around an adjacent one, and continue on my merry way. I didn’t have the opportunity to make a night ride with my HID light prior to the race, so this is my first experience with one of them, and all I can say I WOW, these things really light up the night. Were it not for that, I believe the lack of a daytime preride would’ve been far more detrimental, but due to the tremendous coverage they afford, I was able to maintain a pretty decent pace through my first lap. Arriving back at the camp, I decide it would probably be best to change now and make all my preps (food, hydration, etc) so that after I TRY to sleep through din of the generator, I’ll minimize my transition time to relieve the next rider.

Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock…I arrive AGAIN, way too early at the Start/Finish Line, wasting precious energy waiting to relieve. Chuck comes rolling into the turnover area looking pretty flustered. He had enough time to tell me that he was on a killer pace, only to suffer a nasty crash on one off the downhill sections, and that he had injured his thumb, thus the delay in his arrival. Once more, I struggle through the climbing section, and my drive train was really giving me hell with multiple chain slips. I arrive at an open section of the trail realizing that day light is almost upon us. My relief was incredibly short lived, as I literally got about a half dozen pedal strokes into the open field, and my knee SLAMS into the stem due to my breaking chain. Fantastic, its zero dark thirty in the morning, I’m tired, and I get to try to do something I’ve done perhaps 4 times collectively, in my dozen or so years of riding, fix a broken chain only 2 miles into an 8 mile course. I loose about 25-30 minutes of lap time fixing my chain, but much to my amazement and relief, my attempt was successful. With daylight upon us, and the sense of urgency that I’ve just wasted all that time, I begin to ride the rest of the trail, going like a bat out of hell, taking stupid risks, and actually passing back several of the riders that had passed me as I made my repair.

Fast forward a little less than 2 hours, with precious little sleep, and you guessed it, Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock, (mental DAMNIT) Why can’t I figure out the right time to relieve Chuck so I can maximize my rest time. On my off time, I had done some very minimalist drive train maintenance to avert the disaster of the previous lap. The trail is fully lit up by now, and despite my fatigue, I’m feeling really good. I’m cruising along, barely 3 miles into the trail rolling at a really good pace, and BAM!! you guessed it, ANOTHER mechanical, this time a rear flat. I do a quick mental inventory of my camel back and I realize I’ve forgotten to pack a spare tube. I make a meager attempt to try to run the remainder of the lap, and my legs quickly tell me, dude what ARE you thinking, relegating me to a brisk walk. To the credit and camaraderie of all that is mtn biking, rider after rider after rider all slow long enough to ask me if I’m alright. I reply to each, “I flatted dude”, they shake their head in commiseration, offer empathy, and roll on. Finally, lady luck makes a brief appearance, and someone has a spare, and its their ONLY spare. That, in a nutshell, is what epitomizes why mtn biking is the best thing since sliced bread. There are few, if any, other competitive endeavors, where a COMPETITOR, would offer support, so that you can get back in the game. I change out my tube as quickly as I can, and start to put the wheel back on the tire. At this point I notice that the sidewall has failed, allowing the tube to pop out through the tire, rendering it completely useless.

The frustration level at this point is Mt. Everest in proportions. All that hard work on the previous lap to make up for my broken chain. The effort that Tim and Chuck had made as well, and the string of obscenities I begin to spew would’ve made a sailor blush. Anger. Complete and utter frustration. Like a puppy in submission with its tail tucked between its legs, I dejectedly shortcut as much of the trail as I can to make it back to the Start/Finish Line to turn over with Tim, and inform the score keepers not to count that lap. I roll back to the camp to change my tire AGAIN, with the hopes that Chuck, and Tim can both turn sub 1 hour times, allowing one last chance at a clean, mechanical free, lap.

Unfortunately, the task was too much to ask of Chuck, as he too experienced drive train problems, and missed the cut off by a mere 5 minutes. So it went, just a couple of bits of bad luck, and we went from being in the running for a competitive finish for our category, to mid pack. Despite the issues, a good time was had by all, the weather was perfect, and the trail was even better. Some good lessons were learned and 3 weeks from now, we’ll be at the burn24hour Memorial Day weekend.

The fun didnt stop there. We were loading up the trailer, some weight shifted, the trailer rolled forward, striking my 4 Runner in 2 places on the passengers side

My first enduro, 5hrs of Poor Farm, Spring Cup

2006-11-20T21:54:00.001-05:00

So we get up to the trail with just enough time to set up ‘camp’, stage our fuel at the pit area, wait in line to sign a waiver, pick up plates, and get body markings. Unfortunately it rained ALL day the before so BOTH of the team members that were up there on Saturday were unable to ride, and thus unable to provide a scouting report to Jason, Chuck, and myself. The organizers decided to make things interesting and start each race LeMans style…as if we’re not going to SUFFER enough over the next FIVE hours, let’s start the race with our heart rate pinned. According to the race organizer, even with this being the inaugural year of the enduro class, it was one of, if not, the largest category with over 50 registrants, and 48 at the starting line. I recognized one of the competitors, aka Pork Chops, from the Sproute (adventure race organized by hradventures.com). We had a few moments to chat and I found out his name was Robert…terminally cool cat. Anyways, the nerves weren’t too bad, but I suppose that would be the power of the denial. I did have a small amount of time to peruse the field, and saw all forms of competitors, from young and old, to skinny and well, not so skinny, with again as much variance in their choice of steeds. It doesn’t really surprise me, as it has garnered a good reputation to be a solid endurance platform, that I saw many Fuels, and an overall preponderance of full sussers. It also doesn’t surprise me that I actually saw a couple of single speeds. The mentality that it takes to do an endurance event coincides well with the fringe element of single speeders.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1, GO!!
It was to be a short-lived glory as I was lucky enough to quickly navigate to my bike, mount up cyclocross style, and make a hole shot across the dewy field to the opening in the single track. We made our way into the single-track area, and I had secured a third place start. It wouldn't take long to bite me in the ass, but a decision on my part, mistakenly so, to hang with the big dogs for a little while and let them pull me resulted in a pretty quick pace for the better part of the first lap. Thank God that the trail drains well, because even with the exceptional drainage, certain areas of it were down right treacherous. I repeatedly joke with fellow riders that some of the corners should’ve had a giant banners, “this corner sponsored by CREAMY JIFF” because that’s about how much traction was afforded. From the outset it became apparent that several climbs were going to require a hike-a-bike ascent strategy. If one adheres to the get it out of the way and over with paradigm, I managed to crash TWICE on the first freaking lap, and all I could think was, sweet jeebus is the entire race going to be like this. In keeping with previous race experiences, as soon as the inclination became positive vs. negative, I got dropped like a bad habit. Thus my day in the sun was over, and was quickly relegated to mid pack status. By lap two I had settled into a pace and was trying to hydrate as much as I could. It sounds easy to just say that, but the focus is so sharp on just staying upright, and trying to find a good line through the root infested, mud slathered trail, that you forget to take a drink sometimes. You know they say misery loves company, and in keeping with that, by the end of lap two I was accompanied by my first mechanical. Trek had a pit area just past the Start/Finish Line, so I was able to make a quick stop to get some air for a slow leak. It turned out that this would be all but a band-aid of a repair, because about ½ through lap three the leak had worsened into an almost flat. To look for the silver lining, it did give me insight to the traction aspects of low double to single digit air pressures, because on several of the climbs it actually became quite easy, albeit slow, to just sit, spin, and grind them out. It also gave me a whole knew set of brains on cornering/descending aspects of such wonderfully low tire pressures. By ¾’s of the way through that lap, I had to get off and walk some sections because the pressure was just to sketchy. I suppose that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing because I was beginning to descend deep into the hurt locker at this point. I have to give a shout out to Jason because as I broke my bike down to begin the repair effort, he refueled my camel back. I also have to give a shout out to the Trek pit because one of the pros/mechanics helped me get the tire back on. I discovered the joy of trying to get a difficult to begin with tire bead to seat, on a tubeless rim, under the stress of race fatigue. I was able to get a short amount of rest at this point, and also hook up with Chuck who I’d only seen briefly since the beginning of the race. So lap 4 begins, and at I was fatigued enough that I really didn’t know what lap I was on. I was coherent enough to hear an individual with the initials CK mutter something about, “I’m going to shoot your ass for talking me into this”. The trail condition, with a few egregious exceptions, had actually improved remarkably due to the high volume of traffic that had simply burnt in/push out the mud. Minus the time it took me to change my tire, the first 4 lap times were hovering in the 40’s and low 50’s. The last lap was just sheer hell. There is no other way to describe it. I also learned just how bad everything deteriorates under fatigue. Sections that I easily cleared during the first 2-3 laps, by the 5th lap took momentous concentration and effort. During one section of the trail, I fell on an off camber section, and at the same time cramped so bad I couldn’t bend my leg to click out of the pedal, and was ‘turtled’ helpless on the trail, just waiting to get pummeled by someone rounding the corner. I laid there for about 2 minuets and was finally able to unclip to gimp out the rest of the last lap and call it a day at 4:14:??. I will say that it was quite possibly the best beer I’ve ever had in my life standing in the fuel area, watching the other enduros finish out the last hour.

Overall the vibe was great, the trail was awesome, the camaraderie excellent, and the scenery was spectacular. Having said that, I can’t wait to do Lodi Farm two weeks from now. Congrats to Jason for taking 3rd place in beginner class. Chuck and I took 27/28 out of 48 with 5 laps(about 5 dnfs), and Tim took 5th with 7 laps. One lap was 6.8 miles.

So I was just riding along when...

2006-02-07T10:34:00.000-05:00

i felt what i thought was the saddle tipping back on me. upon inspection the saddle was in fact not loose, which caused me to look the bike over more closely. looking further down the seat tube and what do i see? to be truthful i have ridden this bike VERY hard so i can't really complain about the failure. aluminum does have a finite life span after all and it has served me in a spectacular fashion. trek has always been good with warranty issues in the past, and thankfully this trend has conituned. i was in the shop yesterday, East Coast Bicycles by the way, and i was told that this would be a no brainer to warranty. i'm just glad that it was a simple failure and not a catostrophic one like my klein was.

2/7 = ---> ahhhhhhh session77

2006-02-05T11:34:00.000-05:00

wtf does that mean you ask? i see numbers and symmetry but im weird like that.the reality of it is though is this bike is anything but weird. while it's not innovative in design, it is VERYthorough in execution. oversized cartridge bearings at the pivots, pinch bolts on the G I G A N T O R linkage plates, adjustable dropouts to accomodate 24" or 26" wheels (which also allow adjustment of bb height and head tube angle), ZR9000 series aluminum for great strength yet still reasonablylight, welds that are truly gorgeous. a 1.5"headtube, this thing looks like a beer can!

the parts specification is a solid mixture of industry big hitters such as shimano, manitou, hayes and sram, along with some in-house componentry. the in-house group, Big Earl, is Bontrager's initial forray into the freeride/dh market. the Big E parts manifest themselfs at the bars, stem,wheels and hub, while the seatpost, clamp, and saddle are typical fare Bonty.the handle bars are the new oversized 31.8 mm with a good 1.5 -2" rise (they also happen to be stanchion gold matching the hubs and the fork...bonus for style points) hanging off of that groovy colored handlebar are lock on grips, sramX9 shifters, and hayes magnesium brakes. on the other end of those shifters and brakes are a shimano xt front dr, a sram rear dr, and 8" hayes rotors. those rotors are grabbing on to some big E tires, rims, and hub. at each end of the bike is 7" of travel courtesy of mantio sherman break out up front and a manitou swinger in the rear.
unfortunately, at this point, i've only managed a
very light dj session along with some tame xc so i can't speak to its true potential yet. my initial impression is that it's going to be fantastic to ride. it pedals and steers like an xc bike, yet i have that mental security blanket that of 7" inches of very plush travel front and rear, along with honking 8" rotors to slow me down when i get scared or stoopid. i have a trip planned to Rays Indoor Mtnbike Park in Cleveland this coming weekend so that will be my first opportunity to explore the potential that this bike has to offer.

6 Hrs of Carter, suffering in the sun Florida style

2005-12-12T19:04:00.000-05:00

Believe it or not there is some bad ass riding in Florida and this coming January 29 there is a 6 hour race. Fellow blogger JB of Love2ride fame has pontificated on the virtues of riding in the sun at this blog

love2ridezzzzz.blogspot.com, and after a foolishly short amount of contemplation I thought what the hell I'll sign up for a 6 hr race, but lets see who I can con into suffering with me. Thus far I have two potential suckers, I mean riders to make the road trip with me. Perhaps I can get this guy --> http://29percent.blogspot.com/ to go with me?

Considering the fact that I also volunteered myself to suffer at this http://www.shamrockmarathon.com/, I might as well continue the trend and make 06 the "Year of Suffering"

Wess stylin' with a wheelie on the new 1' x 72' skinny

2005-11-06T22:30:00.000-05:00

Birth and Death of a trusty steed...the final installment

2005-10-29T15:36:00.000-04:00

My first truly nice bike, a 1993 Klein Rascal, was purchased the last week of November, 1996 from a shop called Colley Ave Bike Shop, in the Ghent section of Norfolk. It started off life as a geared, pimped out XTR rig, with the first flight of gun metal grey XTR components. Being that it predated V'brakes it lacked the necessary cable stop on the top tube to provide support for the brake/cable noodle. I initially tried running v front, canti back, but quickly decided that just wasn't going to work. Fortunately for me, the upstairs tennant of the bike shop, was a mad genious by the name of Gordon. He was able to braze on, and repaint my top tube so that I could run V's front and rear. The pictures just don't do his work justice. For anyone familiar with the buttery smooth welds of pre Trek Klein's, Gordon's work was so good if I didn't tell you it was after market you woudn't be able to discern the difference between the factory weld and what Gordon did. Since he had to repaint my top tube, I decided to add a personal touch in remembrance of my first mountain bike dog, Buck, so I had Gordon put that name of the top tube.

I ran it as a geared bike from 96-03 and that bike sustained more abuse than any alumimun hardtail ever should. It did EVERYTHING from downhill at Snowshoe, Whitetail, Sherando, and overseas, to XC, urban assault, DJ'ing, and even some pretty serious commuter/road bike duties. In the spring of 01 I purchased a full susser so the Buck was relagated to back up duties and a well deserved rest. It didn't sit for too long though as I was blessed with it having BURLY horizontal dropouts so it was quite easy to switch it over to SS duties. I managed to get one season out of it and even did the innaugural SS race at the TWMBC (Tidewater MtnBk Challenge) in 03.

In the summer of 04 I was riding with some friends at Harwood Mills back in the expert section. At the start of the ride I had heard some odd clicking/creakng noises, and had attempted to tighten everything that was loose thinking that that might have been the source of my problem. Well, unbeknownst to me, the down tube/head tube junction had suffered a stress crack, and THAT was the source of the noise. During the course of the ride this became devastatingly obvious. I was at the crest of this short up hill/down hill whoop-de-doo section when I heard this strange noise. I had just enough time to mention to my friend behind me, "did you hear that?", and then I committed to the down pump of the whoop-de-doo. Well that sound that I heard was my down tube/head tube separating, and at that point the only thing suspending my 220lb frame was a hopelessly overloaded tob tube about to be sheared right out of existence. In a blink of an eye, the bike simply evaporated underneathe me, and my momentum carried me through the frame and into the upward part of the wall on the whoop-de-doo. Needless to say, my leg/groin area pummeled the frame leaving a bruise that was ~ 13" long, and lasted about 3 months. Had I not been wearing the lycra, the shorts surely would have bloused out, caught the jagged edge of the sheared tube, and impaled my leg...not something I care to think about.
The attached picture is the end result of said failure.

29'r Luvin...

2005-10-29T15:23:00.000-04:00

This is my first foray into the 29'r world and so far I'm loving it. I just returned from a preride of the Tidewater Mountain Bike Challenge and all I can say is wow! It was just an easy spin sorta lap and on the downhills this bike is INSANELY fast. I will have to make a concious effort during the race to not go too fast. It really is easy to carry enormous momentum into the uphills and with this style of course being a roller coaster up/down time of climb, as long as there isn't any traffic it should have rather nice climbing manners. I will try to get as many pics as possible but as I will be racing during the SS class the pics will have to be either before or after, unless I can get someone to man up the camera during the race. The second picture is from the second time on the trail. I went into a corner just a bit hot, drifted wide, caught the loamy stuff, and BANG the fron wheel folded like a taco and split right at the seam. It's the speed like that, that I'll have to be concious of during the race. I just can't get over how FAST these bikes are once they are up to speed. I am running a 34/18 ratio which works out to a 54.78 GI.
until next time, keep the rubbah side down!

This is a test...1, 2, 3

2005-10-22T06:24:00.000-04:00

Is there anybody out there...