Today We Raced a Train

My buddy Josh, whom I met through my other buddy Brian (aka B-Hard), and I went on an Urban Assault fatbike ride on Sunday morning. It was pretty magnificent. Right out of the gates we were traversing a gravel road of ice, snow, wet, and mud. It runs along the railroad tracks through St. Louis Park and into downtown Minneapolis. When we entered the trail to the gravel road we noticed a light way back in the distance. Josh thought it might be an SUV, RR service vehicle of sorts. I thought it might be another bike with an awesome headlight. We were both wrong, which is cool, because it turned out to be a train, clipping at about 20mph...and when it caught us, it was epic for minutes. We were racing the train...and even though the train won, we were winners too. Who out there can say they raced a train on their fatbike? Am I right?

The ride was great. Urban Assault is so fun. Just go, figure it out as you go and eventually end up where you started. Great day, great memory, must do again very soon. And I'm checking the train schedule before we leave!!!

Obscure

Sunday funday

The alarm went off. I hit snooze. Then it went off again, because that’s how it works. So, I hit snooze again…so I thought. It was 6:00am the first round, then 6:08…then it was 8am! Just like that the idea of riding the Dirt Bag gravel ride in Clearwater went straight out the window. A couple profanities were muttered under AJ’s breath. Not because she was mad, but actually more out of disappointment and maybe a bit of relief.

Rosemount to Clearwater is 86 miles. 6am comes quickly after an eventful Saturday. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sweating this at all.

We quickly sent out some messages to the few who we were maybe going to hang out and ride with. They all sent back their version of ‘LOL’ and we moved on. Turns out it was a chilly morning, but shaping up to be a pretty kick-ass day over all, wind and all.

Lying in bed for a few more minutes, AJ decided she needed to get up and go for a run. Legs feeling restless, mind always moving…it wasn’t a bad idea. So off she went and I was left with a fresh cup of coffee, a bowl of fruity pebbles and Apple TV. So, I sat, sipped, ate and watched. I was in heaven. Life is all about the simple stuff and being comfortable in your ‘right now’.

As the morning moved forward and AJ returned home from her run, we decided that later in the day we would grab the Krampus and the Superfly and head up to the Riverbottoms for some scenic single-track. Since AJ is thinking about buying a fat tired bike, it only makes sense that she gets really familiar with this place…and, since she has never actually ridden there before, it made more sense to pop that proverbial cherry.

I mapped out our course starting at a small trailhead in the middle of a Bloomington neighborhood right off of Old Shakopee Rd. We headed over there a bit after the Vikings game had started, parked, unloaded, and got clipped in. I put AJ on the Krampus (Swamp Thing) and I rode the Superfly SS (Deep Purple). As we entered the woods we were quickly greeted with a stream crossing and a rugged grouping of rocks and concrete. Right off the bikes, we meandered our way through rocks, mud, water and fresh fallen leaves. I was delighted, AJ was wondering what the hell she signed up for.

Now, keep in mind, I assured AJ that the trails at the RB’s were pretty flat, wide-open, and on a scale from 1-10, 10 being the hardest…these were a 2. I lied, not purposefully, but she didn’t know that. If you’ve ever ridden the RB’s east of Lyndale then you know that, although the trails are better on that side, they are not easy by any stretch. So, she was a bit deflated at the beginning, but held it together very nicely and by the time we made it to the 35W/Lyndale trailhead she was feeling pretty good.

Getting off topic for a moment to set up some generalizations about certain people and groups or people based on what we’ve experienced. Keep in mind, this is a generalization, mild judgment, and likely true whether you like it or not…mostly because collectively AJ and I are right majority of the time when it comes to our world and perception being reality.

Before we get to the Lyndale trailhead we encounter a few walkers coming at us (easy enough to navigate) and some ‘fast’ bikers bringing up the six. The biker that came up behind us was one with a bleached blonde topical Mohawk, large gauges in his ears, on a CX bike with no helmet, and wearing a full on race kit. Is any of that bad? Absolutely not, that’s rad (almost all of it). We pull over to allow him to pass, he says ‘no you’re fine I’m waiting on a few others’…so we continue forward. Then in a blaze of glory, all 4 riders pass us on the trail without too much a warning and they are gone. Up ahead in a clear, straight area of the trail we see them leap of their bikes in CX style, shoulder their bikes and leap over the downed tree in the middle of the trail. They actually did this very impressively, but as we got closer to the tree we realized it was only about 6-8 inches in diameter. It would have been way cooler to bunny hop. I digress…

We hit the parking area which is drowning in vehicles, bikes, photographers, fisherman, boaters, runners and spectators. There are people everywhere. We head toward the next section of the Riverbottoms and ride up and over a curb to get to the trail.  On the other side of some brush and tree’s is the Mohawk guy doing a ‘in the middle of the field’ track stand. Just practicing his balance and kind of being in our way as we traverse through the multitude of people, and things. You could just feel the cool-meter going out of the roof. This guy was like the Billy Idol of cyclocross at the RB’s. He owned it. Pint is, this guy thought he had the right of way for life…on a bike.

So, we continue on, down the wide gravel fire road which eventually leads into the wooded floodplain of the Minnesota River. Again, AJ on the Surly me spinning out on the SS. We dive right in and traverse through to the small stream crossing. At this point you have 3 options:

1)      Turn around and go back

2)      Cross the river by walking yourself and your bike across a big, robust fallen tree that has some 2x4 ‘aids’ nailed to it for footing purposes.

3)      Take the little floating trolley across (i.e. load bodies and bikes onto the floating raft, use ropes to pull yourself across, exit raft on other side of stream.

I’m fairly sure-footed. AJ will tell you she is not. And the idea of crossing this natural bridge and falling off for whatever reason could be a season ender. So, we opted out on that. Turning around and heading back was not an option, well, not for us anyway. So the floating raft was what we would choose. And what a hoot that is.

We got to the other side and now were feeling pretty adventurous and having fun. Just a quick fact; from the Lyndale bridge to the Access point at Bloomington Ferry Rd is approximately 6.75 miles. We already had about 4 miles under our belts since we started at the 11^th Ave access point way back by Mound Springs Park. We continued toward BFR where we would turn around and head back. Keeping in mind that the River Bottoms is 2 way traffic the whole time, we encountered a few other riders going both directions…but the next guy, rolling solo, was coming at us (AJ in front) and he was not messing around. Because we are courteous to all, we move to the side of the trail. This guy didn’t flinch, say thank you, or move off the single-track trail one bit. AJ says as he passes “you apparently have the right of way!”…to which we got no acknowledgement, not even a ‘screw off’ or, God forbid, ‘sorry’. What a tool. Did I mention…CX bike, full kit…!

You have to stay focused, you have to be courteous to others and you have to pay attention down here. There are walkers, runners, dogs, animals, crows calling, eagles flying overhead, and dumbshit people who think they own the woods…on their fancy bikes in their racing kits, and showing zero emotion but the only important one…that of pain. Gawd, get over yourself. The really fast guys are racing right now at Green Acres…mmmmmmmkay.

We make it to the trailhead at Bloomington Ferry Rd. and it’s a quick incline to get to the lot above. The Krampus lost traction, AJ went down. No one was hurt and she was very graceful in her fall. We went across the walking bridge, took in some of the sights then headed back onto the trail to head back to where we came from.

A few more bikers on the way back, mostly fat tire folks (who by the way, do move out of the way, or give you room) and back onto the floating ferry boat, and we found ourselves back at Lyndale and the 35W bridge overhead. Instead of taking the single-track home, we decided to get on the pavement and take a little pressure off of AJ’s mind. So, we started our climb out of the river valley, headed to 101^st and made our way to the car. We got there in one piece, loaded up the bikes, gave each other a hi-five and drove our way back toward Rosemount with a little detour to Chipotle before arriving home and devouring the Mexican goodness (not derogatory).

What did we learn from riding the river bottoms today?

I learned to be patient with Angela. This was new to her, she was on a new bike, and I wanted nothing more than this to be fun and adventurous.

People are funny, and dick-ish. On bikes and off. Just because you ride a bike doesn’t mean your cool, or not cool or have the right to do what you want.

Be courteous and say hello, or at least give a thank you to someone who step out of your way to let you by safely. If you’re a dick to someone who is a dick, they will still be a dick, then you are also a dick….see what I did there?

Enjoy these days. We don’t get younger, we just don’t. Winter is coming, embrace it, but take advantage of these good days.

Be thankful. We get to do things, buy things, ride things, and eat things that most people in the world have no concept of. 

p.s.-- I like this shirt

Fear Me

"Fear doesn't always lie in not knowing the answer, but rather in not understanding the question."
--me

What are you afraid of? Someone leaving you, failing you, breaking you? Maybe you're afraid of nothing...which makes you almost afraid of fear itself.

Don't be afraid to love and be loved. It's something worthwhile, and good, and pleasurable, and painful, and hard, and rewarding.

HECK of the North 2015 -- Weekend Recap

I wanted my weekends back so I quit my job. Smartly, I had a new one lined up, and it didn’t require me to work weekends…ever. Most things you miss out on while working the weekends you just can’t make up during the week because, well, they don’t have epic bike races during the week. Aside from Boston, most marathons or endurance running events happen on the weekend as well. As soon as we found out I landed a new gig we took to the interlinks and searched for a fun, challenging bike destination race. What we didn’t know at the time is that we had stumbled upon what was going to be one of the most fun times on two wheels that either one of us had experienced before.

HECK of the North is an extreme gravel cycling event in Two Harbors, just north of infamous Duluth, Minnesota. It has been around for 3 or 4 years now and has grown in popularity. Aside from hearing how tough the 100+ miles of racing was, we also heard musings of how it may be one of the more desolate and beautiful rides at the same time. Imagine northwoods weather in October, the leaves changing all sorts of fall colors, and that BIG lake that sits way below. Beauty and the beast at its best when it comes to nature. That wind whipping across the old gichi-gami, that cold-crisp air in the heart of the early morning, the smell of deep woods and burning brush. The sound of trees whispering, leaves rustling, wind howling, and nature calling. This ride isn’t normal, it’s awesome.

New for 2015 was the introduction of the HECK Half. What race director Jeremy Kershaw envisioned was taking all the great and challenging pieces of the Full HECK and compressing them into a shorter version. As far as I know, he did just that. Northern Minnesota gravel riding/racing is not like its bigger sister in the southern part of the state. It’s gnarly, it’s technical, it’s crisp…and it’s equally excellent.

So let’s recap the trip from the start.

Friday evening, after a long work week, we packed up the car with the necessities, racked the CX bikes and headed out of Rosemount toward the northshore. Then St. Paul happened and we stopped, a lot, in traffic…that was pretty lame. We slowly made our way up 35E and found ourselves stopping and going a lot along this corridor. Anxious to keep moving but ‘hangry’ from the work day we decided to pull off and grab a bite to eat at Chipotle. Generally Chipotle is a busy place. It should be too, cause it’s beautiful fresh and filling. This particular branch was very busy, and quite small…but we patiently waited for our ingestibles and then had a seat to enjoy, what we both decided, was one of the freshest and most flavorful Chipotle experiences to date. Ain’t no lie. Bellies full, we headed back to the freeway which seemed to have opened up a bit and we were on our way again.

Taking a quick step back into the week, it’s fair to mention that our original intent was to camp at Gooseberry State Park. We had all the camping necessities, tent, lantern, inflatable mattress, propane stove, coffee press, lighters, sleeping bags, etc. The day before we left I received a message from our friend Charlie…he offered up a spot at his cabin which sits just 10 miles north of the race start outside of Two Harbors. We thought about it for a bit then decided to take him up on the offer and we are so glad we did. Not only was the cabin awesome, but the company we shared was some of the best. Great guys and gals sharing stories of cycling, kid’s stuff, and life. Something AJ and I know just a little about.

We continued up 35 all the way to Two Harbors and made a quick left up county road 2. It was very dark, clouds laced the sky, and that smell of Lake Superior and the endless forest was gripped tightly by the night. We wound our way through some back country roads, onto some gravel back roads, then into a tight, weaving ‘no maintenance’ road that led us to Charlie’s hunting cabin. As we pulled in we were greeted with low lights, misty air, and the sound of laughter and story-telling. We quickly parked and headed into the cabin where Charlie and friends were reliving antics from last year’s HECK race. We met all the new faces, fumbled around with names, and grabbed some treats before heading out to the separate little cabin (coined the Love Shack) where AJ and I would be staying. We unpacked our stuff, laid out our riding gear for the next day, chatted a bit about the weather forecast, the route and our alarm time then quickly crawled into separate beds, no kidding, and fell right asleep.

The morning came fairly quickly. A brisk trip to the bushes and it was time to grab some coffee, brush the teeth, pull the cycling attire on then get the car started and warmed for our 15 minute trip to the staging area of the 2015 HECK of the North. The guys doing the 107 mile race had already left the cabin and headed in since they were also starting about 15 minutes before the HALF. We grabbed up our last few necessities and followed Bryon in towards town, he assured us he knew where he was going. A quick left off the county road and we were there. You could feel the buzz all of the sudden. It was about 25 minutes before The 100+ mile roll-out and we found a spot to park, found a spot to relieve ourselves, get our gear together, nutrition organized, tires pumped, and we were on our way to the start for the 55 mile race.

It was now 8:15am, we lined up with just under 100 other folks ready for the adventure that was ahead. Jeremy gave us a few cues, some fair warnings as to what was to come, and a wish of good luck as he sent us on our way. Straight out of the gates AJ was just in front of me and to the right a bit. Directly behind her was a young kid on a 29’er who accidentally ‘buzzed’ her rear wheel. For a moment the kid freaked out and lost his shit, over compensated his front wheel and hit the bricks. All the while, AJ thought it was me behind her playing some kind of joke. As she looked back to scold, she was relieved that I was still upright, and that it wasn’t me doing the buzzing, yet also felt bad for the young guy who hit the ground with his knee pretty damn hard. The beauty and peril of mass starts.

The first 7 miles was gentle gravel, fairly flat, no surprises. Actually, the gravel road may have been one of the best riding gravel I had ever been on. That first clip went by super quickly and the sights of huge pines and old maples along with the glow of golden leaves was spectacular. Then came our first turn. We went left and quickly off the smooth riding gravel into some thick woods that a much narrower passage led up and around with smooth rocks poking out in no specific pattern. This just became a whole new ball game. Not too far into this section were there riders pulled off to the side with repairs. Flats or seat slippage seemed to make up most of the issues. Having too much pressure, or not quite enough would serve unfortunate this quickly in the game. I had set my bike up with about 58 PSI as I was running 33.5mm tires with tubes. I set AJ up with a pressure closer to 52 since she was running a 38mm tubeless set-up. She got a much plusher ride for the day, and with less rolling resistance sans tubes, she was in heaven with the best of both worlds.

From here it’s tough to give you a good walk through, minds-eye idea of what the course was like. It switched up from great gravel, to old logging roads, to snowmobile trails with tall grass and tons of boggy goodness. Then out of the blue you’d come into a huge open area full of piles of logs and rocks, sand and mud, puddles and a shit-ton of shotgun shells. It was very odd. The knowledge that there were people there at some point recently, yet no one in sight for miles and miles made it kind of creepy and cool at the same time. Keep in mind there are parts, albeit very few, where we are riding with some of the 100 mile participants. You would never know it though, everyone looks the same at this point, they are just a few miles further into their journey, or maybe not. We come quickly to a spot where the cue card shows a left turn, around a ‘brown’ gate. There are 3 or 4 people there wondering if they are at the right spot, maybe a bit confused because their bike computer is a bit off. It’s relatively clear that this is the left turn at the brown gate though, because it’s the only left turn with a brown gate that we’ve seen all day and it’s where it says it should be. We ended up heading into this section after a long trip on awesome gravel…like 8 miles worth, but all literally uphill. My legs were fresh and AJ’s were too. From there we went for it. And never looked back. There were about 11 miles left. Mostly double track full of awesome rocks and narrow gravel paths on either side of a grassy center, yeah, that’s double track. False flats mostly all the way to the county road 2 crossing and back to the staging area and the finish line.

It was pretty underwhelming, the finish area, considering (but not caring) that we had come in 14^th and 15^th place overall out of 75 riders in the HECK Half….and all of the 100+ riders were still out except a few who had DNF’ed at this point and found their way back to the finish. One of the guys from the cabin, Ted, was a favorite for top 5, but a double flat and some wonky tube put his day to rest after 60 miles, so we sat with him around the fire, kept it stoked, and put wagers on who might win. We had finished in just over 4 hours and that was kind of our expectation going in to this. We were just happy to be a part of it, and although we were fine being done with the ride part of our day, we found ourselves really excited to being hanging out anticipating the riders coming in off the 100.

As stated, we sat around the bonfire for quite some time, ate chips, drank diet cola and talked about who may win. There was a group of about 5 people that could win if in position to do so coming into the finish. 3 of the five were all Metal riders from St. Cloud area and Revolution Bike & Ski or a friend who happened to ride for and work for Salsa. In the mix was a young phenom, forget his name now, but at 16 years for age, he could apparently mash the gears. Rumor had it that Ben Doom had flatted and was off the front. The lead group at the checkpoint consisted of over 20 riders, so at this point it was anyone’s game potentially. The front group, whether 1 or 10, was thought to come in somewhere around 6 hours. This put things in perspective for me, and I couldn’t believe they would ride that so fast. Six hours came and went, but not much later in the day (about 6:20 hours) we watched one, two, and three come in within seconds of one another. Ben Doom sealed the victory after a ‘flat, bridge, pull, ride harder than everyone’ kind of day. Charlie Schad wasn’t far behind for a second place finish, followed by the young kid, Bjorn, for a solid 1, 2, 3 punch. Sean from Salsa was then fourth after blowing up somewhere in the later part of the race.

The riders trickled in from there. 1 by 1 they finished. Some looked fresh, others looked tattered. The favorite finish was our friend Ryan Tarpening with a bunny hop leap over the finishing tape on his HUGE Ice Cream Truck. All smiles. We hung out and waited for more people we knew. Specifically we were waiting on Patti Schmidt-Iverson, whose hubby Al had finished a bit after the leaders, pushing himself to the limits of sanity.  Patti soon joined the ranks of HECK 100 finishers and rolled in with Bonnie Moebeck. Both great riders and good friends. 

Riders kept coming in, and we decided it was time to go get some food and beverages. Patti and Al wanted to meet up at Blackwoods in Two Harbors for some appetizers, so we headed south and got a little grub. We had already planned on meeting up with Charlie and Bryon later that night at a little place called Dixie. They do up some mean burgers, an all you can eat fish fry, and some other original (and non-original) menu items. Dixie was back toward the cabin, right off county road 2…so it was a great place to meet up, share tales of the day and just kick back and relax while watching the locals. Angie Jane had an Alaskan Salmon salad and I tried out a burger; cream cheese, jalapenos, and bacon. Wow, it was great. We ordered up a couple diet cokes and they came in the biggest cups ever seen, it was great to not have to call over the server every few minutes for a refill. After dinner we were ready to get back to the cabin and start up a fire in the wood burning stove. On the way out of Dixie we spied a case full of pie…promptly asking the server what kind of pies they were, finding out they were fresh made caramel apple pie, we told her we’d take all 3 along with a slice of spice cake to go. Boom.

Back to the cabin, unloaded some wet gear and the pie, headed in for a quick bath to wash the day away (did I mention I still had my bibshorts on) then sat around the fire catching up, bonding in the woods, and enjoying homemade apple caramel pie and a side of spice cake.

Night came and went fairly quickly and we woke with the morning sun. A few things to get organized, cleaned up, and put away and we were again off. Saying our goodbyes to Charlie and Bryon, along with the trusty northwoods cabin…we hit the open rode and made our way to Duluth for the rest of the morning. A quick bite to eat at Little Angie’s Cantina on Canal Park, a cup of java at the local Caribou and a walk along Lake Superior shore. On our way back to the car I stopped in to the little bottling shop called Fizz. Grabbed up a couple new root beers and some Twizzler Nibs and we were on our way again. This time straight home.

The entire trip was 48 hours from trip start to our arrival back home. It went by too quickly and we were already on to the next thing. We washed up the CX bikes, unloaded our gear and headed out for a ride through UMore Park in Rosemount. After 20 more miles of gravel and some dinner, we were calling it a weekend. And it was one of the most fun one’s we’ve had in a while.

Sidenote:
This year I rode the HECK on my Felt F3x (which coincidentally was ridden here year one by David Thompson):

Next year I would love to ride it on this (or the like):

Salsa Cutthroat

Cheers to Obscure Days....

Pump N' Beep

The lady filling up her vehicle next to me at the local gas stop had her door open and key in the ignition the whole time. Ding ding ding ding ding ding....I almost shot her in the foot. I shot her a dirty look instead!  Dumb dumb. 

Urine The Right Place

So I had to take a drug test for my new job. Shocking right. Corporate America. Love it. So. I make the appointment and show up on time. The lady behind the counter quickly calls my name, to my surprise (they are actually on time too) and I head up to show my reservation. Yeah. Appointment I meant. But I reserved my right to be there. She looks at me and says "where's your paperwork?" Kinda bitchy and such. I show her my phone and said it at it was on there. What did she need exactly I didn't know. So I hand over the phone and she snaps some comment about how she can't read the writing. Shit lady. Get real. So I ask what she needs exactly and she tells me it's a 9 digit number. I find. I read. 

Then she says rudely " I'll meet you at the door!"  Okay. The door flies open and I follow the satan nurse into a room. Office like. She tells me to remove all items from my pockets. So I do. Then she begins to rattle off all the 'pee'ing in a cup' rules. I must have missed the part where she waits "bring the sample out of the bathroom to me" so I ask if I leave it in there or not. You know the answer ... "I said, bring it out to me!"  

Yikes. So I forgot to mention I had pee anxiety. I took a piss in the shower before I left that morning and I rode my bike many miles the evening before. Bad idea. Worse combo. 

So I'm in the bathroom. Struggling to drop some drops and nearly sharting my pants trying to push out what looks like Tang. Then I hear a rap on the door. The lady is knocking on the door and yelling "sir, you need to come out. This is a timed test."  What. A times test of what. How fast I can pee into a cup over a toilet while you listen outside the door. Shoot. I would have worked way harder if I knew it were a race. 

I finally get out of the bathroom. Hand her my cup with orange paste in it. She laughs and says "this won't do!" 

She asked why I made an appointment for a urine text if I didn't drink anything prior. I said "the email that was sent out said not to eat or drink prior to my appointment!"  Sheesh. The nerve. 

I was embarrassed, and dehydrated so I fucking left. 

The end

Back In Time -- The First Friday

Before we can move forward we sometimes need to go back. It's brilliant actually, in a psychological way. In life it's good to revisit old stuff before we make new decisions. In this case we are going back to the day that made me think of Obscure Days in the first place.

 The road 'T's' and we turn right into our neighborhood, or you can go left into another. At the end of the road, where it actually T's, there has been a pile of 3 larger sized logs. Each one is similar in size, maybe 4 feet long and 1 foot in diameter. They were dumped there, but every day or so, they had wood chips laying around them. Each day fresh chips. The logs themselves were barely moved, if at all. Less than a week ago, on a Friday to be exact, I was driving back into our housing development. To my surprise there was a large thin man dressed in overalls chopping at this pile of wood, in the middle of the road. Yes, overalls, in suburbia, in the middle of the day...a hot day. He had a beanie cap on and some ski goggles too. I was amazed, confused, and tip toeing around a lot of belly laughter. Then I looked at his shoes. Old Skool Michael Jordans. Originals. First Gen. Black and Red in all their glory.

These changed the shoe game

I have an ax to grind with you...

Turns out this is my neighbor...two doors down. I'm not even sure what to think.

My Day

Take note my friends. Days can get obscure. My goal, to notice and digest
some obscurity daily. Then share it!