He had a really solid race and will happily talk wattage with you on his site. We also, somehow got suckered into racing elite this year. No short 35 miles of fun in the winter-cold sun. 65 miles ! 2 loops! we were totally screwed, and we knew it.
In the planning, we relied on Coleman for the local knowledge. We didn't realize he'd been blacksmithing in his garage, but that comes into play later on.
You can see the packing preparations. What to take for 17 degrees and grave'/dirt for 65 miles? sled dogs? parkas? This was my start.
Of course we needed healthy vittles to get us northward.
Green bikes, everywhere the eye could see. Whats the budget on that?
Our first stop was to pick up Fatty from the airport, returning from a beer convention. Go ahead and let that thought settle in for a moment. Leaving a beer mtg to go to a bike race. One can only assume its the result of extremely good karma. For more details, again...go to seilers site for all karmic explanations.
Next stop was our annual/bi-annual pilgrimage to Brasserie Brugge. Belgian House made ales and frites filling a massive metal cone. Our portion was labeled l'enorme on the menu. They were under selling it. Seiler and Porch Pony met Pope, Fatty and I there to ingest as many calories as we could without affecting the gas mileage of our vehicles. fail.
While we were working our way northward, Coleman and this piece of craftsmanship were hurtling their way south. Its a "burn barrel". took me all weekend to realize he wasn't saying "bum barrel", tho I'm not sure theres a difference. He filled this creation w charcoal and we were able to return to heat and hot food. SCORE.
Our next meal(in K-zoo) was served by a waitress named Chantal Canada....No! We didn't eat at a "gentlemens club". I'm not sure if that was her "server name" or her real name, hard to say.
We crammed all of our stuff into a room that was soon crowded w 7 guys, bikes, gear, beer and assorted weekend things. Porchpony's lego-jacket took up almost an entire wing.
The next morning we were off and rolling. 1000 racers!! I heard a lot of names that I knew-Tristan Schoouten, Brian Matter, etc. Real racers. I was in a race with people Id read interviews with. Im not thinking they were worried.
As always, promoter Rick Plite pulled off the impossible by making the neutral roll out work. We were moving! 160 some odd started the 65 miler, I cant remember but I think it looked like this.
We were hauling some ass as we hit the 2 mile double track of doom section. Carnage everywhere. Im not sure how some of those folks crashed going in a straight line. didnt seem possible. We were moving fast and knowing that I had 62.5 more miles of this I backed off the pace just a touch. Rolling along the gorgeous dirt roads I came across Aaron Hawkins. Amazing in a sea of riders to run into a friend hauling it up a hill. We compared notes on important stuff like snacks and gearing before separating.
Somewhere between there and the steeper hills, I flatted my rear tire. I got a chance to use my new frame pump. Flawless and faster than dealing with CO2. I got going again and tried to make up lost time. Pope and Coleman couldnt be too far ahead, right? As I got ready to turn onto loop 2, some of the 35 mile racers heckled me! Punks. I almost turned around to give them a piece of my mind, but I had a long way to go. I was getting tired and my lobster gloves werent letting me get to my food as easily as Id hoped. I made a conscious effort to eat and push ahead at a better pace. I hit the double track again and it hit me back! Twice I landed on my ass in not so technical sections. I just wanted to get to the middle section of the course which was fast and flowy. Once there I was able to eat again and try to make up time. The SAG vehicle caught up to me, and I asked "hey, are you the broom wagon" fearing that I was that far back. He calmed my fears but hung around like a vulture. I had no desire to quit, but having the option ride beside me was not good. I sped up as he slowed to talk to another rider. I reached the "drummer hill" where l;locals had crowded around for the first lap, cheering and shouting. It was a lonely climb this time, and not a fast one. I got to the final paved section and tried to get my pace moving. Out of nowhere, a Shamrock rider came blasting past me. No! I can catch him. I found a new reserve of energy and got down in the drops pounding my legs as hard as I could. Finish line! I knew that I wouldn't catch him but Id made up time. Hope my group was still awake.
Things back at Camp Rogue were "muy tranquillo" as one of the pros had put it. I parked and changed and went into my usual full-body shiver for a while before gorging on Colemans home made chili. That was good stuff. It was worth waking up to a hotel room that smelled like a combination of meat and dood to have that ready post race. (in all honesty, I was really worried about the "beefy" smell in the room until I realized he was cooking) Gryzwald had already bolted for las ville, but Osgood was hanging strong after a solid finish in the 35.
I made the rounds, had a few Founders IPA's while I got to talk with Stomach of Anger's Kacha at their tent. Check them out, you may be seeing a lot more of them everywhere "shortly" if that hint isnt too subtle.
After our few social stops it was time to head back to the room. Sleep was catching up fast.
Im not going to give out details of anything from that night. I'll concurr w Seiler that Osgood can hold his liquor and that I am $5 poorer for it.
I am also certain that they probably repainted our room after we left because of the overwhelming smell.
All in all it was a great weekend. We all raced well. Seiler finished well towards the top, followed by Fatty, Zack, Coleman(monster ride) Pope and me. turns out a 3rd of the 65 milers dnf'd.
We ended our trip with Reubens at Shapiro's Deli in Indy. I still have agada. It was worth it.
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It started to look more and more like a bum barrel by late Saturday afternoon.
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