Landmine Classic 20th Edition

 

Landmine is one of the biggest mtb events in the Northeast.  For some it is the only mtb event  It was unclear if we'd be competing in this year's because of other exciting events going on in my Lovely's life,  Well it was unclear to me, she was adamant that we were.

Because of certain global happenings it was pre-reg only.  There were more people signed up in the CAT1 50+ than CAT1 SS class (a lot more!), but being an elevationally challenged course the singlespeed class would be a better.  Judging by who was already registered, John Skarupa and Ted Yobaccio, it was quality not quantity.

Race day comes, yadda yadda yadda, drive into the sun

 and they line up the CAT1s in two big groups: Pto/Elite and Younguns, then Geezers, Women, and SS. The SS crew slips to the front on the outside.   They count us down and we're off.  

I grab John's wheel on the perimeter of the field and as we turn to the wide singletrack / narrow doubletrack I use the mechanical advantage of my stupid gear to get to the front.  

Age group riders are using their even bigger gears and swarming around me left and right, but for a glorious mile, I'm in the lead.  Then John is warmed up enough to spin his tiny gear up to magic speed and begins to float away.

I'm keeping him within 7 or 8 yards (this is a Merican event so we use Imperial Measurement), we get to Prospect Hill the gap begins to close a bit as we are taking shitty lines grinding up past the geared riders.  Nearing the top, John slips between a couple riders, spinning his enchanted gear to great effect, quickly growing the gap.

At this point there are still a lot of riders in close proximity, it's hard to know who is in which class.  I'm in second and the ol' dorkometer says I'm right where I should be for a XC length race.

Yo-yoing back and forth with geared riders, staying with them when they are keeping a good pace, passing them when Wompy's rocks and roots trip them up.

With the gear I'm running you have to commit to a line and let it run it's course; there is no subtlety to 34x17.

With the next group of riders that surge up to me is Ted who catches and passes me.  "Ok, this is fine " I think "I'll hold his wheel for the next 20 miles and sprint him for second"..."and lose because you can't hold a sprint".

We come to a short steep grunt of a hill side by side, at the lip he spins out, yet I maintain traction.

Trying not to squander this opportunity, I put my head down in hopes of getting out of sight.  I think I have the bigger gear so every open stretch I try to capitalize.

Maybe it's working?

I'm mostly catching people, so it's hard to tell if people I see behind are coming and going.  

About 1:40 in another group comes forward...with a familiar orange helmet; TED!

Fortunately we are just getting to some more rocks which seem to be working for me and I'm in the front, so Ted has to deal with any bad line carnage from those around him.

Ok.  1:40.  The last time I did this race it took me about 2:00, the longest it ever took was 2:10ish I think, so I only have :20-:30 to go.  I can keep this up for that long, right?

Landmine is one big loop and there are some distinguishing features along the course.  I haven't seem some of them yet.

Head down these trails all seem the same to me.

Ok 2:00 is here.  The conditions are great, and I think I'm moving along ok so where's the finish?

Head down.

Powerlines.  I know these are near the end, but also there's a good bit past them.

Head down.

Big irrelevant mound next to the road, now I know this is near the end.

But there is also the last section of singletrack where we catch all the CAT4 and first timers.  

2:20...really?

Dare a peek behind I see a blue and white jersey, is that Ted?!  No just a course marker I hallucinated into Ted.

It's quiet, I'm catching a few, but they seem more like CAT1s who  have lost their steam.

Finally there is lightness to the woods, and right before a familiar wooden bridge I pass a woman in long pants; I'm nearing the field!

Burst into the lightness and sling around the big banked corner to the finish line holding on to second.

Looking at the numbers i spent the majority of time in the Danger Zone  sometimes pushing to Infinity and Beyond, we won't talk about the Sausagefest.  I know this is technical cycling talk, but trust me it's good.

The first 1000

On Saturday I crossed a silly little milestone.

Which is a wonderful time to reflect on the custom bike experience.

I was first measured and questioned for the bike the beginning of December 2020.  They wanted to know my riding experience, what my current bikes were, intended purpose.  After submitting all these tasty tidbits, we waited for a drawing.  Due to some holiday in December, It took a little longer than anticipated for them to get that done.  Once done, we had to clarify a couple details and wait another week for the final drawing to sign off on.

Custom graphics and being a weirdo who wanted a frame designed to only be a singlespeed caused lead time to be longer than quoted.  This is something I wished there was greater transparency on.  But all was good, I loved the bike I was riding; it would have been nice to have a quarantine project though.

Anyhoo...

I got the bike.  A Seven Sola SL SS.  The Velveteen Coney.  It was built up with exactly the parts I wanted to put on it.

I"ve been and still am a fan of Shimano brakes.  After building a number of road bikes with Campagnolo disc brakes, and loving the feel of them, I decided to go a different route and try Magura MT8s, which have been wonderful.

 

I thought a USA made drivetrain would compliment the USA made frame so I mated A White Industries M30 crank, chainring and bottom bracket with a Wolftooth stainless steel cog.  Hear that?  No?  That's right, silent.

Does the carpet match the drapes?  You betcha! WI headset

So how does it ride?  Much like a bike.  A very refined bike.  Subtle.  One of the questions asked and submitted was "which is more of a priority, weight or ride quality"?

 Ride quality!  

duh.

Never been a weight weenie, and consider it a very minor property to be concerned with.  I want to get to the end of the ride, not have the lightest ride.

The standout feature of the bike is it's sexy ass that effortlessly leaves the ground following the arc with which I choose

That's it.

It's a stable, well handling bike that floats beneath me and holds a line when needed.  It goes over logs better than any bike I've ridden...

and rides like a bike.

Domnarski Farm 6hr Marathon

This was going to be just the facts and nothing but the numbers  and data.

But how bout a little story time?

I have raced Domnarski Farm many times.  Even won it once (expert age group).  The course is rugged, old school with a good deal of climbing; a few of my favorite things.

The marathon was an open class; any age, sex or bike.  It also had the largest field of any category. 

In the race itinerary e.mail the promoter stated the race would be staged in waves based on previous best time, fastest first.  The Marathon would line up behind me...thanks for the target on my back Matt!

Lead up to the race is textbook, even the yahoos trying to impress by revving their sports cars took it easy the night before so I could get a good night sleep.  Being only an hour away gave me plenty of time for coffee, breakfast and morning constitutional.

I'm nervous.  It's been a year and a half since I raced a bike.

I keep telling myself I'm just riding my bike in the woods with friends for 6 hours.

After signing in, I have a couple of minutes to noodle around before heading up the hill to the start. I see a couple of familiar faces, but the majority are an unknown quantity.

The countdown to the start is rather anticlimactic; the timer says go..and we go!

I get a short lived, slow motion holeshot which is for naught as we turn off the starting straight into the woods and the first technical climb.  

Everyone is off their bikes.

Back on and I'm sparring for position with 3 guys before the first significant climb.  I'm reminding myself not to get caught up in it, in the excitement, and ride my own race, it is six hours after all.  They pedal away.

Before the first series of 2x8 bridges, there are a lot of these, I hear a rider come up behind me.  Ok, when he passes me I'll be in 5th.  That's fine.  There's a long way to go and I'll still be in the top 20%.  The race predictor had me at 15th.

Wait. what the?!  It's one of the trio who rode away?  He had rode off course.

When I get to the long powerline climb, it gives me an opportunity to look back a couple minutes to see if anyone is in sight.  Nope.

On the last descent to the start finish, I'm catching a lot of traffic from the beginner race.  Just in case they slowed me down as much as it felt which in reality probably wasn't hardly at all, I don't stop at my feed coming through the start/finish.

(Dear Beginners, Domnarski Farm is not your typical race course!)

On the first long climb there's a lot of "excuse me, can I squeeze by, when you get a chance can I get by, on your left up here ok"?

I'm relieved when we get to the course split, but what the...the rider who went off course the first lap is coming from the beginner's split; he went off course again!

The rest of the second lap is uneventful.

I stop at the feed, swap bottles  and have a few bites of PB&J.

At the "Ten Dollar Pass" just past the 7 mile mark of the third lap, the leader of the pro race catches me.  The second pro catches me at the most technical descent, fortunately it opens up soon after so I'm not holding him up.

Swap some bottles and head out for #4.

Lap 4 isn't fun.  Arms and hands have taken a beating.  Knowing the course, my tires have a couple extra psi to hopefully ward off flats. 2012 saw me walking off the second lap when it took out a tire.  I'm not enjoying the first long climb which usually is cherished.  I'm being caught by leaders of the expert race, on a few occasions stopping entirely to let them pass.  

That's it, 4 is enough.

From $10 pass I'm going back and forth with a friendly guy, I let him take the lead for the last descent.  When he sees me starting another laps he asks "what, you haven't had enough"?

Yes I have but

there's just too much time left.  

"Marathon" I mutter and soldier on.

5th lap I have the course all to myself.  I tell myself "walk if you have to but just keep moving".

When I get to the first bridge it is no longer there.  The water is warm and thigh deep.

Turns out I'm not alone; I catch a woman at $10 pass.  She tells me she's going to stop and take a picture.

From there it's all downhill to the finish...with 10 minutes to spare.

Stop reading now unless you're into dorky numbers.

dorky numbers:

4th place

51 miles

(the winner Jake Inger did 6 laps so over 60!)

6300' of climbing

Gear: 34x20

lap times: 64:34, 71:11, 71:30, 73:59

Median age of the podium: 29

Average age: 36

Calories consumed 700

(600 liquid 100 PB&J)

Official Results

The Hard Way

"

"Americans can always be counted on do the right thing after they've exhausted every other possibility" 

Winston Churchill may or may not have said that.  Nevertheless, here we are.  "We the people" have elected a misogynistic, racist, tabloid fodder, reality tv star, president.  For what ever reason, we have chose to do things the hard way.

Personally, the last eight years have served to lift me out of the hole the financial freeforall the the Bush administration had reign over left me in.  

But no sour grapes.  I will do my part as an American ("merican"?) and do things the hard way too.

I will not succumb to the convenience of a derailleur, nor will I accept the relief of a suspension fork.  I will not ride the "B" line, but seek out that of greater challenge. If there is a hill to climb, I will ascend it, a rock garden, I will enter it with enthusiasm.  I may not always be successful, but I will try and try again; the hard way.

It's the American way

Bearscat 50

A blog post about Bearscat50 was requested by the Most Interesting Man in the World and who am I to deny him?

Preparation for Bearscat had gone as well as could be expected, intel was gathered, equipment had been tested.  I had done my homework, and was ready to go.

So I went to the fair.

Got up bright and early the next morning,  ate breakfast and headed out for the first race; getting to the park before they started charging admission was the first race of the day as my GPS continually updated my arrival time (made it with minutes to spare!).

Taking my bike off the rack, the tires felt questionably soft, reaching for my pump I found this:

My pump valve had been cored!  Frantically I tear apart the car to no avail, my pump is now just an old Italian pipe with a handle.  So I start filling my tire with my mini pump.  A fellow racer showed mercy on me and let me borrow his floor pump.  Worried about losing air, I fill them up to 30 psi.

Warming up on the road and a little bit of the course, I think the tires aren't too bad, maybe a little bouncy, but sure beats a flat.  Getting back to the car, I realize I never cinched down my strap after removing my mini pump and now am missing my spare tube...and I don't have another in the car (you owe me Tyler!!!).  Fortunately Brian Kelly was well prepared and had a spare spare I could carry for the race.

Staging is on the honor system; you line up according to how long you think it will take you to finish.  Most of the singlespeeders line up together at the front of the second group.

The race starts with a prologue.  First paved road neutral start, then dirt road, and then into the actual race course.  I'm feeling great!  Up near the front, keeping the leaders in sight...then we get to the course.

I'm bouncing and sliding off of everything!  I keep on unintentionally employing the CCB™ and offer to pull aside for the affected riders,  Everyone is super cool and encouraging telling me I'm doing great and lead the way.

After a couple more sections of that nonsense, I decide I'd rather risk flatting then continuing to play tire v. rock and root pinball, so I pull over to let some air out of my tires.  Again the outpouring of support from my fellow riders is heartwarming as they go by.


Going again, things are somewhat better,  I probably reduced my tire pressure to @ 25 psi.  I'm still bouncing and slipping a lot, but it's really rocky, rooty, and the mist has added a slime factor to the equation.

I begin to reel back in some of the riders that passed me.

Have I mentioned the rocks?

Wawayanda is no joke.

We have rocky trails in CT.
We have rooty trails in CT.
We have loamy trails in CT.

Wawayanda is a relentless combination of the three.  Lubricated with a misty morning makes it one of the most challenging race courses I have ridden.

A fellow singlespeeder, David Boyce, catches me in the singletrack and I let him pass.  I feel I can go a little faster and pass him back.  We get to a fireroad climb and he powers strongly away.

Coming into "the Rock Bowl", I'm greeted by hecklers, the Northeast's power couple, Joc and Monte.
They snapped this picture.  Looks like I'm having fun...

The race director said the aid station was at mile 17.  That comes and goes; no aid station.  Mile 18; still nothing.  I'm wondering if it's a GPS thing?

Finally at almost mile 20, the aid station.  I don't stop, but shortly after I drop my bottle (Doh!).

So if the aid station is at almost 20, how much longer is the lap?

Mile 25 comes and goes, hmm.

When I finally breakout of the woods onto the road to the start/finish line it starts to actually rain.
Spinning a 34/20 on the road in the rain is giving me a chill.

When I cross the line, I'm at almost mile 29.

how many more miles?

Bearscat 50+?

My warm, dry car is right there...but so are Monte and Jocelyn.
I decide to collect myself, eat a PBJ, and put on a jacket.

At 3:02 into the race I grab two bottles and head out for lap 2.

I've decided I like lap 2s.  They seem to go by faster.  I'm more fatigued but I'm riding better, cleaning more sections.  I catch a few age grouper, but primarily am riding by myself.

When I get to the aid station, a volunteers shouts out encouragement "your almost done!".  No I'm not; I've got almost 10 more miles!

I keep my eyes peeled for my water bottle, I see it about 500m out, stop and shove it in my jersey pocket; they don't grow on trees you know.

The last leg goes well.  I've reached my fatigue plateau, holding steady.

Getting out to the road with no one in front or behind me.

Spinning the first slightly downhill section a geared rider has come out of the woods and has me in his sights.  In a measure of totally irrelevant pride I put my head down, and spin madly to get to the final climb holding him off.

7th Singlespeed.

Mining through the numbers, that puts me 17th overall.  If I had raced my age group, I would have finished 2nd...unless the 3 other singlespeeders over 45 who finished in front of me raced age group too!

 Bearscat 50 is the toughest course of any length I have ridden.  The thought of doing two laps at Landmine seemed ludicrous to me, but after Bearscat 50; piece of cake.  Bearscat makes VT50 seem like a charity event ride.

 Can't wait for next year!

The Bahn Burnah! New England Regional Championships

My seasonal plans changed after not even completing 10% of the Bearscat 50 before crashing out.  Longer endurance events are great fun but the high entry fee is tough to swallow after an unfortunate mechanical (but that's racing).  Going back to my "home" series, The Root 66 series, seemed only prudent.

Just over a week after another unfortunate event I raced Bikes for Bovines and it was like a home coming.  I missed all my racing friends and it was great being back in the fold.  Being only the forth time I'd pinned on a number in 4 months and only the second time I had raced over 7 miles this year I was feeling a little rusty.  I was pleased to be back racing and impressed with Adin's performance (he won the Cat1 SS race with a time good enough to also win his 30-39 age group).

Doing the usual internet prerace stalking, the competition for the Barn Burner looked stiff.  There were the usual suspects, strongmen Shawn Mottram and Will Crissman, plus some local darkhorses, elite CX racers and youngsters.  Fortunately there was some day of signups, unfortunately it didn't have the draw of the inaugural event.

On to the good stuff shall we...

The whistle blows and we are off.  It's a long drag to the singletrack and after a wobbly start I'm able to slot into third position right as we turn into the skinny stuff.

Following Shawn and Will with the goal of keeping them in sight without blowing sky high I nail a rock with the distinctive metallic clang of rim v. immovable object.  Looking down I notice one of my bottles has jettisoned right as the Real Tim Johnson comments he just lost a bottle  too.

Shawn and Will are keeping a short gap on Tim and I which I'm pleased with.  We all make it through the first rock garden clean and up the first little grunt.  Other than dropping a bottle, everything is going as planned.  This is great, I'm racing my bike on a wicked fun course, staying in the mix...when I completely bone an easy corner washing out my front wheel giving Tim the opportunity to pass.

He's picking great lines and it is good to follow him.  But Will and Shawn are now disappearing around the twisting singletrack ahead.  Tim has me almost at my limit but if I get to the front maybe I have  little more.

When we get into a little more climby-ness I make a push and move back to 3rd position.

The leaders are nowhere to be seen.

Coming through the neutral feed, I go for some water maybe a little too hot only to have the miniature plastic cup explode in my face.

When I get back to the spot where a I nailed the rock I'm ecstatic to see my bottle lying on the side of the trail.  Perfect I think.  I'll pick it up on my third lap right when I need it!

I'm feeling good, picking off more of the the riders who started in the group before me.

I try going through the neutral feed a little slower this lap, netting an once or two of free water.

I get back to the spot where I'd last seen my bottle; it's gone!

FUDGE!!!!

It's hot and dusty, I'm only halfway through the race and out of water?

DOUBLE FUDGE!!!

Panic sets in.  How am I going to make it through?  Do I stop at neutral support going into lap 4 and fill my bottle?  Will I make it to lap 4?  I'm already fading!

Then I see someone else's bottle on the side of the trail.  Live off the land I think and pray it's not empty, gross, or has cooties.

3/4th full of a tepid fizzy drink.  I'll take it and after a few long pulls am feeling stronger.  I finish the bottle in short order and contemplating my hydration strategy for the remainder of the race.  As I'm about to exit the singletrack and enter the start/finish loop I see friend, teammate and all around great guy Fabian.  I ask him if he has a bottle, he replies and empty one.

That's okay.  I'm feeling stable.  I slow down almost to a stop and enjoy 4 ounces of neutral water.

Steady as she goes.  As long as I don't blow up I think I've got 3rd locked down; I haven't seen or dared to look too hard for Tim in awhile.

And halfway through the lap, teammate, friend and all around great guy Fabian has filled a bottle, figured out how to find me and is waiting with the hand up.

I start to get caught by the leaders of the 50+ (fast old fückers) and I'm seeing the leading Pro woman through the trees but I keep Tim at bay and finish up on the podium.

Third in the New England Regional Championships; Daddy has some pizza money!



Race Notes:

• I've got to rethink my hydration plan
• I'm really glad my new Singular frame didn't show up.  Sure it's a great ride and I'm anxiously anticipating it's arrival, but if it had shown up I would have run a bigger gear than I did which would have been really painful 
• Moving time 5 minutes faster than last year
• High attrition rate today.  Lots of flats and the wind masked how hot it really was.
• Shawn thought it would be wise to race the fatbike race prior to The Cat1 SS 
• Will thought it would be equally wise to ride the race and home
• I've really got to rethink my hydration plan!
• Bike racing; FüCK Yeah!!!

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