The Pinnacle

I don't race much, but when I do it's typically longer stuff, 24 Hours of Great Glen, Hampshire 100, 12 Hours of Bradbury Mountain, etc. This past Sunday I tried something a bit shorter, one of the Eastern Fat Tire Association's New England Championship Series races: The Pinnacle XII (#4 on this year's calendar).

The race was held in scenic Newport NH, a town I'm familiar with mostly from my motorcycling days as it lies in the western part of the state which is short on traffic and police and long on twisty roads.

The sport class raced three laps for a total of 13.6 miles (per my Garmin Forerunner). The course was listed at 16 miles for sport, but apparently some adjustments were made from last year. Weather was off-the-charts perfect. Dry, sunny, breezy, and warm but not hot; a perfect day in the mountains.

The Sport Class Course

Among my regular crew of riders there were two others competing: My 24 Hours of Great Glen teammate Curt and first-time MTB racer Jeff. Jeff deserves credit for showing up since he's still saddled with a toy bike with those adorable little 26" wheels. (To his credit he has a Ti 29er on order). "Big" Chris showed up to provide support with his lawn chair and umbrella, and sadly also with his plaster cast encasing his repaired foot. Pretty sure he would have given those young guys in the Clydesdale class some competition had he been riding.

I had no idea what the course was like, particularly how much climbing there was. Curt had gathered a little info and was under the impression that there was a good deal of up right away. Since that was all I had to go on I figured I'd take it easy out of the gate.

That Sport and Novice riders started in waves at 9:30 on a grassy field at the Newport High School. The climbing started at about 9:31.

It's either up or down on this course: 1905' of climbing

The climb while not crippling steep, was almost all single track and fairly technical in few spots. Nothing you'd worry about during a fun ride, but when packed with over-eager racers and your blood is pumping it made for a few interesting moments as the rider at the head of the line spun out or tumbled and everyone behind came to a screeching halt. I made a few passes on the way up, but lost almost all I gained when the rider in front of me crashed and laid his bike out across the trail causing me to dismount. I figured discretion was the better part of valor at this point and just focused on getting to the top without any more incidents, though my caution meant just about everyone in the Vet II class passed me.

I was feeling I might have brought a bit too much bike with my Niner RIP 9, but those thoughts evaporated when the course turned down. The descent was almost all single track and featured numerous monstrous berms (monstrous for a XC race anyhow). I've never seen so many crashes in a race before. One rider flew off the top of a berm and into the trees (and I assume onto the rocks supporting the berm). Several overcooked the numerous tight turns and laid it down. A few pivoted violently around their front axles and drilled themselves into the dirt.

The descent ended with a plunge down a gravel slope onto a grass field. Sadly I can't find a decent picture of it, but the terror of it is clear in my mind's eye. Well maybe "terror" is an exaggeration, but you really wanted to be sure you were lined up straight when you hit it, because mid-course corrections on the way down were likely to result in a DNF.

The second and third laps were extended versions of the first (5 miles vs. 3.6 miles). At the start of the second lap the racers were thinned out so I started chasing down everybody I'd let by before. My legs felt good so I upped the pace a little bit and was soon passing quite a few folks (well maybe my pace stayed the same and they were wilting...same thing really). Most passing had to be done on the climbs, the downhills were just too fast and tight to squeeze by all but the slowest racers. Didn't matter much as I was more concerned with staying upright on the descents.

The remainder of the race was pretty uneventful until the very end. On the final descent I was in the 3 spot of a tightly packed group of 4 riders. I recognized one of them from the start of my class, so I had it in mind to pass him at the finish. The guy behind me wanted to pass, but we were flying along and that simply wasn't in the cards. I cursed myself for not climbing harder since I was constantly braking more than I wanted as the two in front of me slowed for corners. I'm no downhill guru, but a RIP 9 with 2.2" Nevegals can carry a lot of speed compared to the typical hardtail XC race bike. Didn't matter though because there was no way I was going to squeeze by. Then it really didn't matter as we crossed the last bridge and my back wheel clipped a root hard, kicking my back wheel into the air. I road a brief nose wheelie across the bridge before riding right off it. The guy behind me got his wish and passed, though he did ask if I was alright. The bike and I were unscathed from the crash, we landed upright and my pride was the most serious injury. I confess to being a bit irate and hauled myself out of the ditch and threw caution to the wind in an effort to catch back up. My bike was all over the place but I managed to catch them right was we came out onto the final stretch of double track and the clearing at the top of the final plunge. I was in an ok spot to make a move, but futzed the line on the plunge: Thinking I could go right and pass them on down slope, instead I found soft sand and lost speed and all three finished ahead of me.

Oh well, I can't care too much, caring too much about your mid-pack finishing order means you are either racing elite class or you need to relax.

The Overall Sport Class Men's Results (6 DNFs)

While I was mildly disappointed with my finish, Curt did very well, finishing first in his class and 5th overall. Jeff did well too, finishing with a comfortable lead in the Novice Vet II class.

* This first place puzzles me. This racer finished the 2nd, 3rd, and 3rd in the first three NECS races...in the Novice class. Suddenly he's putting 15 minutes on the next closest sport racer, over a 13.6 mile course?! Bad data? Sandbagger? Most improved rider ever? Anybody know the deal?

Moving Pictures

While I've owned a high definition camcorder for a long time I've never used it much. Too fragile for first person use while skiing or mountain biking. I recently acquired a GoPro HD Hero helmet camera. Now this is more like it. Tiny and robust. Cheap enough that in the unlikely event I completely destroy it, I'll only cry for 20 minutes.

Still getting my feet wet with the camera's features and taking the tiniest of baby steps with editing, but I'm having fun.

FOMBA Hemlock Loop Trail from pburba on Vimeo.

This was my first video, it's too long and consists of only one scene. Only singletrack junkies are likely to find it enjoyable. Critical lessons learned:

• The seatpost is the place to mount the camera for smooth video, especially if you stay seated.

• The strap-on helmet mount produced nothing by jiggly footage that will have you reaching for the Dramamine.

Bear Brook from pburba on Vimeo.

This is my second video. Actually have several different scenes and it is slightly less boring. Switched from Adobe Premier Elements to TrakAxPC Pro, which is half the cost and twice as good.

24HoGG

Camp setup on Friday afternoon. Miraculously my $25 tarp shade would survive the night this year.

Well, it's over. The 2007 24 Hours of Great Glen are in the books. After last years 4th place Todd and I had dared think of a podium spot this year. Regrettably it was not to be and I must take the blame. A new job and home expansion cut into training this year, but not so much that we couldn't have done better than our 7th place in the men's pairs this year. The thing that killed us was a rookie mistake on my part, electrolyte imbalance.

The Bride and I's glamorous hotel room. New job pays enough to not sleep in tent Friday night. Still slept like poop and woke up at 5:00 am.

Last year we just alternated laps the whole race, except when we each went out for two night laps to allow the other racer to sleep for an hour. Noticing that all the teams ahead of us were doing multiple laps we thought we should do the same too. It worked well for the first 9 laps. We were in the 6th spot and feeling good, knowing that night would bring a host of problems for many teams (hopefully some in front of us). But on the end of lap 9 my left hamstring just went bezerk, cramping horribly. I went out for a tenth lap, but finished that in a glacial 1:25:18.

Ready to roll under a dry blue sky.

Campmates, team 'Still No Faster'. They lived up to their name :-D In fairness Chris did the fastest individual lap of our two teams, a tidy 48:12. Of course there were *FOUR* of them!

That was it for me for a while. My left hamstring would cramp if I even so much as bent my leg. I thought about dropping out, figuring there was no way it was going to come back to life without a full meal and good night's sleep. My "epic" lap had dropped us to 10th position.

"What'd you get?"
"Decoder ring, you?"
"Fake tattoos."

"Think the mandatory meeting will start late this year?"
"Yup."
"Think they will just tells us what we already know?"
"Yup."
"Think people will leave before it's over?"
"Yup."
"You ever say anything but 'Yup'?"
"Nope."

Todd of course just said he'd go out and see what he could do. He did two more laps which got us to 1:12 am, but he was hurting too. This was the low point of the race for me. My leg was still all screwy and riding was out of the question. I considered just pushing the bike around for a lap and maybe rolling down the flats. But that seemed rather pathetic, and feeling rather pathetic and wallowing in self-pity I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Arty-farty juxtaposition of synthetic and natural mountains.

Todd tries his luck at the ancient Chinese bike puzzle...

...hmmm, trickier than it looks...

"Out of my way fool!"

"See, it's easy!"

"I am Todd-Lor. I come to wage war on your puny and insignificant planet. Even now my battle cruisers have trained their plasma cannons on your major cities! Your only hope is to bring me your finest popcorn. Now hurry you sniveling dogs, don't force me to demonstrate my fleet's firepower on Manchvegas! Because I WILL SO DO IT"

So we decided to catch a few Z's and see how we felt in a few hours. Before sleeping I downed a few electrolyte pills and ate a box of Annie's Shells and Cheddar. Todd got back out sometime in the dark as I slept away with my guilt ridden dream, and proceeded to do three straight laps, nothing fast, but somehow during the night we managed to crawl up to the 7th spot.

For the benefit of people like my mom, this is the battery charging station. It's where, well, we charge our light's batteries between laps. I have nothing funny to say about it. Sorry, batteries just don't lend themselves to humor.

The cattle queue up for the start.

Todd follows my sage advice for this year's Le Mans start: "Run faster"

Todd-Lor contemplates calling in an orbital strike to thin out the pack.

Riders hoof it up the first climb on lap 1.

TM rails the plunge.

Max roars out of the start/finish area. Alas my alter ego would soon falter, and pitiful Paul would soon return clutching his left hamstring.

By this time I had gotten my sorry butt out of bed and was stuffing myself with food and more electrolyte pills. The leg started to feel a lot better. I went out for another lap and was able to do a 58:50, the leg was getting a little suspect so Todd went out for another after me.

Max Power is so fast he can barely be caught on film. Or possibly Scorpion #1 doesn't know how to operate the camera. Honestly, at first I thought this was some cool pan and blur shooting technique. Until I saw that all the other pictures she took were blurry too. Unless they were of Todd, those were all fine, in crystal clear sharp focus. I heard her muttering something about, "you look better blurry". Not sure what that means.

Still feeling fine and cruising to a 51:12 first lap.

Looking over the selection of sport beverages, it dawns on me, "blue" is not a flavor.

Do I like to wear my helmet at a jaunty angle? Or is my head just not symmetrical? The latter sadly.

Todd got back at 11:08 am. I headed out for the last lap. The power of your last lap is great, knowing you don't need to go back out lets you lay it out and not worry about saving anything. Of course when you haven't trained enough, laying it out only results in a 56:49 lap, but hey, I'll take it.

Haircuts like these just don't happen people, it takes preparation, poor grooming, and hours of helmet wearing. Giant Elvis Costello glasses complete the look.

We can all smile now that it's over.

So we held onto the 7th spot in the end. A tantalizingly small gap of 1:26 separated us from the 6th spot. Sorta wished I'd known we were that close before the final lap. Of course then I would be killing myself for *6th* place and that does seem rather pathetic!

The Bride says: "Ride faster next year you maggots, 7th place is unacceptable!"

So while it could of been worse, I must say I finished the race pretty disappointed. I had fun, the bike didn't give me any serious problems (aside from the front brake squealing like the proverbial pig for the whole race), but can't help but feel I didn't do my best. Not sure exactly what went wrong with the leg, it could just be a case of O-L-D. The lack of training miles compared to last year wasn't helping certainly. Or maybe just doing 2-2 alternating laps got me out of my eating and drinking rhythm. Whatever the case we'll be back next year if the fates allow.

This brings me to my parting random thoughts on this year's race:

1) Soloists are crazy right? So what does that make the single-speed soloists? I'm not sure, but kudos to both groups, it's a tough race when you are alone *are* the team, gears or not.

2) The weather - Three straight years I've done this race and three straight years the weather has been great. Why do I feel like we're due a monsoon come 08?

3) Peter Ostroski - Damn this kid is amazing. Two years ago his Red Jersey two man team just crushed everyone. This year he won the overall solo title with 24 laps. And he is still in the 0-18 age group. Yikes.

4) Even more impressive is Melanie Brown, winning her second women's overall solo title. Amazingly she beat all the men but Peter. Nice job.

Until next year...

ptb

Spring

Spring comes to the Monadnock region not slowly and gently, but more like a bowling ball dropped on a foot. Suddenly it is just irrevocably upon us.

Hmmmm, if I hadn't lost my wildflower book I could tell you what these are...probably some non-native, invasive species. They are pretty though.

My new job, while fabulous in most ways, has been wearing me out a bit lately. Add to that a business trip to CA a few weeks back, the Bride's upcoming opening and its attendant stresses, and the expansion of the house, and, well, Spring *really* snuck up on me this time.

I should really know what this flower is. I don't however.

So one day, after noticing that the tree all had leaves, that I was covered with black fly bites, and that for some reason it was 97 degrees in my office, I decided to stop and smell the flowers. The ones without bees in them anyway.

Bumbling

Ferns coming up by the cabin

The sledding hill. Sans snow.

I think most people consider this a weed and buy stuff to kill it. Our lawn is full of them. I just mow them along with the grass when they get too tall. A chemical solution seems excessive.

Cute rodent. Less cute when he lives in your attic.

Crab Apple blossoms.

The Bride ambles down our busy road. Sadly, the few drivers that do come blasting down it clearly should stay home and wait for DiRT to be released.

No clue what these are either.

The Really Old School. This is 'downtown' in my town. Seriously.

Not much else to say this post. 1 pic == 1k words and all.

Hope your spring is as nice as ours. Unless you live in the Southern hemisphere. Then you are SOL. And if you are in one of those places that has no seasons (San Francisco) then I pity you :-P

ptb

Expansion: Part 1

Since 2001 Carol and I have been living in an approximately 700 square foot apartment attached to her parent's house. Our kitchen is the size of a closet and my office, well readers of this blog already know about my "office".

Starting point, this old house.

Not to complain, our place is, dare I say, cozy, and it certainly keeps the snow off us. But the time has come to expand, adding a real office, an actual kitchen, and enough room to have more than four people for dinner.

Prying out the old walkway bricks? That's low skill labor that even a mouse clicking desk jockey like me can handle!

It all starts with some minor grunt work. Taking up the old walkway so we can reuse the bricks in the new entrance. An old Yankee never wastes a brick. Nor crushed stone, as I'm tasked with raking up the crushed stone outside our door.

Cannon emplacement for fighting off bear attacks.

Al hires a fellow to cut two holes in the foundation, one in the existing basement and one on the side of the house facing the new basement. In between is the slab that our apartment sits on. In a special appearance, Jabba Joe is present when we finally finish digging out the sand between the two holes. So far everything has gone smoothly.

Oooooo...conduit, how arty. Be really nice if it was in focus genius.


Digging up the gravel entryway and sifting out the dirt with and old seedling basket? That's low skill too. Call the programmer. Yes it's night. Beats watching TV after a day of hacking. The black flies aren't out yet either, so it was quite pleasant.

We are extremely fortunate that Carol's dad Albert is a licensed electrician and more importantly for this job, a former finish carpenter and house builder. No better choice for the de facto general contractor than a man building a house for "his little girl". Even if she's 36.

Leslie starts the real skilled work. Honestly, he can turn the pages of a book with that backhoe. I'm not allowed anywhere near any machinery.

There's not much else we can do without the pros and their heavy equipment. Al starts calling in his various cronies. Leslie Fox is first up with his backhoe.

Keep digging, what could go wrong???

Apparently plenty...the old crack in the foundation decides to expand its horizons.

Now the slab on which our apartment sits has always had a crack in it. We knew there was some risk in digging out the hill next to the house that there could be "problems". But we were more concerned with torrential rains hitting before the new foundation could be poured.

Fortunately the rain held off. Unfortunately the crack didn't. Strange noises started echoing throughout the house. A new and alarming crack started to grow near the baseboards of my living room and soon I had a nice view of the outdoors through my floor. The slab wall starts spewing sand and bulging ominously as our living room is slowly pulled apart. The sound of nails slowly being pulled out of wood is not pleasant.

After some discussion Al and George Willard, who is overseeing the foundation work, decide to tear down the wall and develop plan B.

With the wall sagging dangerously, there's nothing in it but to tear it down.


Going...

Going...

Gone!

George and Al consult while forms man Dana looks on and thinks, "I'm not too keen on working under *that*!"

Well this is certainly off to an exciting start. I choose to say "exciting" rather than "disastrous" because I'm an optimistic guy. Anyway, that's enough for this installment. Tune in (uh 'blog in' ?) next time for the continuing saga of this old house. In our next episode we answer such pressing questions as:

* Will Moby attempt to squeeze out of the crack in the floor in search of sweet succulent freedom?

* Will Scorpion2 fall into the 8' deep hole when she comes to visit and attempts to knock at our door?

* Can you code while there is a non-zero chance your house might collapse?

* And most importantly, just *what* is Plan B?

ptb