A Plan

Cool composite image from today's
computed tomography (CT) scan.
Navicular fracture circled in red.

Today I went to the Exton Mall for my CT scan. Main Line Health has just opened a snazzy facility right in between Victoria's Secret and Radio Shack. It is a little weird and a lot genius. Check in, grab a latte at Saxby's coffee, get your CT scan, and grab a pair of socks at Macy's on your way back to the car.

The CT scan confirmed a break all the way through but non-displaced which is good, but still looks like I'll get that titanium I've always wanted. I was thinking ti bike frame but will have to settle for a ti surgical screw. I will get my titanium on Monday followed by 6-8 weeks immobilized in a splint then (hopefully) saddle up and begin training for The Tour duh on May 10.

At least now I have a plan.

Chris

"Safe biking is no accident"
     -- unknown

Clairvoyant

This is the third time I have posted an x-ray
on this blog. I think three is plenty. 

For the record, yesterday afternoon I made the following predictions about the impending Friday Happy Hour Ride and what might happen when we enter a drinking establishment clad in muddy sweaty bicycle clothes:.

1. At Chelsy's it is awkward initially but by the time we leave everyone is asking when we'll be back (this is based on first hand experience).
2. At Crossroads it is antagonistic and it ends very badly. We leave violently out the side door, one person goes to the hospital in an ambulance with sirens blaring.
3. At Station Taproom a couple hipster beer snobs put down their calamari long enough to roll their eyes behind their nerd geek retro eyeglasses but that's about it. Nobody notices when we leave.

The awesome thing is that all of these places are within a half mile of each other, we can make a game time decision on which experience we want to blog about tomorrow.

Looking back I'd say Clairvoyant is not too strong a word to describe these predictions. Let's examine them one at a time to see if you agree:

Prediction #3 - pretty much spot on except instead of fried calamari it was hand cut fries seasoned with black truffle infused sea salt. But the nerd references were pretty spot on and I have to say the craft beers were excellent.

Prediction #1 - again pretty much spot on except we were a little disappointed that some of the original artwork is now obscured by an obnoxious duck hunt video game. 

Prediction #2. No we did not stop at Crossroads which is probably a good thing but the remainder of the night did have some uncanny parallels to the "goes to the hospital" part of this prediction. It started with a track stand held 1-2 seconds too long and devolved into one of those classic "I'm falling over and I'm clipped in and it's really gonna hurt" situations. And yes it did hurt but honestly it seemed like one of those "I'm gonna feel that in the morning" hurts. Not one of those "go to the local clinic in the morning to learn you've fractured your navicular (wrist) and ulna (forearm)" hurts. 

We somehow finished our 5 mile ride home complete with the traditional derby race to the base of the dam (I think Mike and I tied).

It's not easy being Clairvoyant.

Chris

“You do something stupid, you gotta act like it didn't hurt"

     -- unknown

Rinse Cycle

Every picture and video I
took yesterday was
too soon or too late.
Need to do better

The forecast said stop but the email chatter said go. So five of us met in Delaware and rolled out under partly cloudy skies in defiance of all meteorological prognostications. We treated ourselves to almost two hours of singletrack bliss before mother nature put her foot down. In that time we did most of the northern half of the park in spite of:

• A mechanical less than one minute into the ride (Cinco's streak of SS breakdowns continues)
• A spill off a six foot high platform in the skills park (we checked with KT and yes it hurts now)
• A Tumble in the Chunnel (CR got pretty wet but it wouldn't matter in about 10 minutes anyway)
• Getting lost, off the trail, in the best marked trail system north of the Vernadsky Research Base in Antarctica (CD "never been down that one before, let's try it")

About 2 hours into the ride the heavens opened up with a deluge of of biblical proportions. The rainwater was refreshing but quickly turned the trails into a slurry of mud. Within a few seconds we were beyond caring about being wet and the mud was kind of fun, so we debated taking run at the Corkscrew and the Goat Trail. A well timed crack of thunder shut that idea down and we sprinted for the safety of the cars, and McGlynn's pub.

Grab the women and children,
there is some scary s$*t going
down in the DD parking lot.

Back at the parking lot the rain was coming down so hard we didn't dare open the car doors. So we did the only thing that was left to do. We stood there laughing, letting the cool rain cleanse us, watching  muddy rivulets run down our legs. By now 2 inches of it was running across the parking lot so I took off my shoes and rinsed my socks in the runoff. You know it's bad when your socks make the parking lot runoff dirtier than when it started.

Then rain finally stopped as quickly as it had started, but no the show wasn't over. Not yet. The next act was the Dunkin' Donuts parking lot wardrobe change. The full boat, including underwear. It wasn't in the cars because we were too wet. It was done standing in the parking lot and we have information that it raised a few eyebrows in the yoga class that rents the space above DD.

We wrapped up at McGlynn's with a lot of laughing and beers, a trip to the smoked sausage bar, and a very tolerant waitress.

I got home just after dark and promptly drove into the garage with the bike still on top - both bike and house are showing a little (cosmetic) wear as a result. Then whatever modicum of self assurance I had left was dashed when my daughter gave me a hug and then told me "you smell." So I took my third shower of the day.

As expected it was a great day...but ironically what made it memorable was the un-expected.

Chris

"It's fun to have fun, but you have to know how." 
     -- Dr. Seuss

Pictures Don't Lie

I've never seen him crash, ever, and I missed this one by about 10 minutes (so the streak is technically alive) but it was pretty obvious from the crack in Mike's helmet that he had gone OTB and the lump on his shoulder suggested some structural damage.

Pictures don't lie. It's a "popped" acromioclavicular (AC) joint. Mike is just bouncing back from knee surgery, but he is a gamer and our fingers crossed he gets good news from the ortho today.

Crash counter reset.

Chris

FHHR Hat Trick (or "Blood Sweat and Tears on the Double Bonus Loop")

It has been a punishing couple of months at work. The sort of stuff that, if you're not careful, can take a real toll on you over time. It sounds silly, but the Friday Happy Hour Rides (FHHR) have been instrumental in helping me put the work week behind me and carve out a few days to relax with my family and start the next week re-energized. The FHHR is a magical concoction of blood sweat and tears:

• Sweat - take the tension from a long workweek and HAMMER it completely out of your body with your bike and miles of wooded singletrack. This is the one physical activity where I can completely commit myself physically and come home utterly exhausted and drenched in sweat and endorphins.
• Blood - occasionally one of the group will get a little banged up. Nothing life altering, just a little mud and blood. If you're lucky it will be you. If you're really lucky it will be the guy in front of you. It jars you out of your day-to-day and reminds you that you're alive. If it's the guy in front of you, it's a reminder it could (and eventually will) be you.

Tangent: How does getting banged up make you feel alive? Well, that scraped shin or sore knee that starts throbbing during the noontime conference call is a tangible reminder of the adventure had - the fresh air, the speed, the laughs, the risk that you took, the high that you had just a few hours or days before. It's a daily reminder that you sometimes live outside the comfort zone of day-to-day life, in a place where shit happens to you. Stuff happening. That's living. That's alive.

• Tears - of laughter. At The Overlook on a Friday afternoon there is nothing but your fellow bikers, some dirty bikes, a beautiful view, a warm beer or two and lots of great stories and laughter. Nothing heavy. We're twelve years old again. Riding bikes and carrying on in the woods. 

During the Friday ride, this concoction helps us switch gears from the workweek to the weekend. It happens subconsciously. We don't know it's happening. All we know when we saddle up at 5:00pm is that we'll return home in a couple of hours exhausted and energized, with the workweek fading in the rearview mirror and a full weekend of family, relaxation, and maybe some more adventure stretching out in front of us.

This week's FHHR installment was particularly notable for:

• The un-frickin' believable weather. Yes this is truly the best riding time of year. 
• Picking up a walk-on FHHR player. We will see if Mike becomes a regular (that would make three Mikes in the group of regulars, I am feeling outnumbered). 
• Our emerging Object D'Art at The Overlook (according to Wikipedia an Object D'Art is "a work of art with some artistic merit. An artwork exhibited for the purposes of decoration or the reflection of social status"). This week Mark added a performance element when he did his imitation of "a monkey using a tool" to make his contribution.  We also instituted a "no repeat rule" to the performance art elements which elevates this from an Object D'Art to an outright competition. 

And if a walk-on and an installment of competitive performance art isn't enough, we were also treated to a reset of the crash counter on the hard charging return leg when Mark tried to bunny hop an 18" log pile at full speed (On most days a prudent rider would slow down just a little before hitting that log pile. This wasn't most days). We already had the sweat and tears in the bag. Now we had the blood... 

...which made today's FHHR a bonified Hat Trick. A FHHR Triple Crown!

Chris


"They say money can't buy happiness. But it can buy bikes and beer."
     - ecards

NEMBA Rocks

View of the valley from above North Conway.
We are a couple hundred yards from
the most amazing switchback I have ever seen.

Thank you Erica!

I was vacationing in Maine this week.  Turns out my neighbor Mike was too. We both had our bikes and were both staying within an hour of North Conway New Hampshire...so we made a date this morning with the renowned Red Tail Trail in North Conway NH.

First we stopped by Joe Jones Sporting Goods for some parts, advice, and a map, and it was there that Erica gently prodded us to ignore our XC sensibilities and shuttle The Red Tail Trail instead of riding up it. Good call. Red Tail is do-able uphill, but it was unbelievably awesome as a down-hill and I would want all my marbles in order to fully enjoy the ride down.

Note the striking similarity between
my knee after the ride and
the chili dog I ate after the ride .

This trail is a NEMBA masterpiece. The many switch backs are tight and nicely bermed. One was crafted entirely from about a dozen pieces of granite the size of a washing machine. They were precisely arranged like a giant jigsaw puzzle into a massive bermed turn (impossible to slow down for a picture). I have no idea how they did all this work in such a remote spot.

The 1,500' descent was over too quickly, probably no more than 45 minutes had elapsed when we rounded the water tower at the bottom. This is where I got my memento of the ride, when my front wheel washed out in some loose gravel.

Chris

"Ride it, don't slide it"
     -- anonymous downhiller

Recipe for Disaster

Stan's Miracle Sealant

I have four recipes I would like to discuss with you.

Recipe #1 is for STAN'S Tire Sealant. My El Mariachi is rolling tubeless on Stans ARCH rims and Continental X-King tires. The only thing between a thorn and a flat tire is a couple tablespoons of Stan's sloshing around inside the tire. So imagine my surprise when I found this 1/4" gash in the rear tire which is still holding air even after a one hour trail ride at Marsh Creek.  Whatever did that (probably a shard of glass) would have certainly sliced a tube and flatted instantly.  What the heck did Stan put in that stuff?  And do I try to repair from the inside or do I just keep riding it?

Recipe #2 is for vegan pumpkin oatmeal COOKIES (which by the way go great with beer).  Once again, Jesse's considerable biking and baking skills combine to make the Friday Happy Hour Ride even happier. Maybe she'll post the recipe on her bog.

Add caption

Recipe #3 is the one for the FRIDAY HAPPY HOUR RIDE. There are a lot of intangibles in this recipe, but the basic ingredients this week were:

1. A Friday afternoon with the whole weekend in front of us 
2. Eleven mountain bikers with a passion for fast singletrack and cold beers 
3. A few miles of fast and firm singletrack (no rain in weeks)
4. Assortment of thematic microbrews including New Belgium's Shift Ale and Fat Tire Ale
5. An occasional civilian through-rider to stir up the crowd
6. Fresh homemade pumpkin oatmeal cookies
7. Did I mention beer?

Recipe #4 is for DISASTER. Almost. There are two versions of this recipe, one of which was perfected by Mark on the ride back:

1. Recipe for disaster #1 is drink one beer at The Overlook.  On the way back (while riding some twitchy hillside singletrack), reach down with right hand to tighten ratchet on right shoe.  This is survivable in 5 out of 10 attempts.
2. Recipe for disaster #2 is drink two beers at The Overlook.   On the way back (while riding some twitchy hillside singletrack), reach down with right hand through the frame to tighten ratchet on left shoe.  This is survivable in 2 out of 10 attempts.  

Mark tried the 2nd version and arrived at the boat launch a little bloody but still smiling...and we all agreed that this recipe tastes great and is much more memorable than the more pedestrian (literally) "happy-hour-on-the-back-deck" variety.

Already looking forward to next week.

Chris

“Like dogs, bicycles are social catalysts that attract a superior category of people” 

     -- Chip Brown

The Knee Bone is Apparently Connected to the Ankle Bone

Had my knee drained as result of my crash a couple of weeks ago. Doctor told me some ice, compression, and Advil should finish the job. But today about 4 hours after I put the compression wrap on my knee, my ankle swelled up like a kielbasa sausage and started turning purple.

Yes, this is a knee injury.

I figure the knee's bursa sack with new drain hole (as of yesterday thanks to drainage procedure) is now draining down the inside of my leg and pooling in my foot. Kind of gross but no pain and kind of an interesting physiological experiment.

Glad to be of service.

Chris

“I'll take the Pain and Humiliation Combo, super-sized”
     -- unknown

Unhinged for Something Cold

Something Cold in a Brown Paper Bag

This morning when I woke up my knees were symmetrical . This evening not so much. But let's start at the beginning.

The FHHR run-up started Thursday night with this email from one of the DBs:

"Speaking of beer, I was sitting in traffic at Chelsea's Tavern an hour ago and I think MO7S's old girlfriend came stumbling out the front door, dropping f-bombs with every misplaced step.  Gem.  Inside I could see a guy in a wheelchair running over some dude's work boots.  I really wanted to stop in..."

Add caption

Chelsey's of course is our favorite skanky-get-some-local-color-dive-bar and we have more than a couple of ride reports to prove it. So this kind of talk on a Thursday really tends to get the group rev'd up for the FHHR. And when it's followed on Friday by en email photo of a brown paper bag with something cold in it, people start to come unhinged and potentially make bad choices...

...like the bad choice I made trying to rail a turn in my haste to get to The Overlook for the HH part of FHHR. Ran wide, front tire washed out, and my knees got a little dirty (and later that day asymmetrical).

But within minutes we were into the HH part of the afternoon and the knees were forgotten (for a while) as the conversation ranged far and wide, from merits of boiling versus finishing hops in an IPA, to Fox versus Reba suspension forks, and finally to breeding stock and Ron Jeremy.

Another bang-up happy hour, in more ways than one.

Chris

"Keep the rubber side down"
     -- unknown

Sunshine and Unicorns

Alcohol will be the answer
this Friday at the overlook.

It's been exactly one month since I last felt that old familiar feeling.  The feeling of real fatigue that comes from dropping the hammer for a couple of hours.

Today's ride was  especially sweet.  Some faces we haven't seen in a while (Tom).  A surprise pickup on the way back from the Bonus Loop (Jim). Brilliant sunshine mixed with the sweet smell of autumn leaves on the ground.

But it wasn't all sunshine and unicorns out there today. We dodged a trip to the ER (wrist) when Mike performed the seemingly impossible (and now legendary) stationary endo.  Starting from a dead stop, he stepped on the crank, and propelled himself straight over the handlebars. With 108 days on the crash counter I guess we were due.

Chris

P.S. We capped the ride off with some advance Happy Hour planning. We may crank out some miles before hand, but rest assured we'll be in our spandex hoisting a few cold ones at the overlook @ 5:30.

"Safe biking is no accident"
     -- unknown

You Will Not Regret It If You Live

This was an adventure with all the commensurate risks and rewards. Mountainous terrain and excessive speed contributed to both crashes. With downhills measured in miles instead of yards and altitude drops measured in thousands of feet instead of hundreds, it is no surprise we were riding at excessive speeds for long periods of time. Speeds unheard of on our east coast trails.

Nurse Kitty cleaning up Sebastian.
He'll have some good bacon from
that one!

Sebastian's crash occurred after a particularly gnarly section of downhill where the trail smoothed out. From behind, it looked like his front wheel had hit a large rock - the bike stopped and he flew a good ten yards down the trail, sustaining a couple of nasty scrapes but thankfully no structural damage.  Luckily he was thrown forward and not sideways where there was no trail, only air (you get the picture). Oddly we could not find any obstructions on the trail - final analysis concluded that the rear wheel was off the ground approaching turn when both brakes were applied, resulting in instantaneous endo. Possible contributing factor was that brakes on Sebastian's own bike at home were soft (needed to be bled).

Conclusions: On descents keep weight back and use front brake judiciously. Switching from soft to firm brakes may contribute to misjudging stopping power.

Nurse Kitty checking
Dave before granting
him access to the cooler

Dave's birthday crash had speed and some additional complicating factors. It was at the end of a very very long day, and we were nearing camp and a cooler full of beer.  We were about 3 miles into an 8 mile descent.  It was a similar stretch of trail, very fast, flat, and smooth when Dave just inexplicably disappeared in a tangle of bike, legs, and dust.

Tangent: It was strange seeing the crash from about 100 yards back. The violence of the crash was apparent. Legs and bike tumbling down the trail. Arms flopping. Dust flying. I've been there, I know. But from where I was sitting it was utterly silent. No noise, no pain. A strangely detached and frankly disturbing perspective.

I was first on the scene and as is customary asked him if he was ok. He said "no." David never says "no." A quick assessment turned up a cracked helmet and a left shoulder that hung considerably lower than his right...because his arm had been wrenched out of the shoulder socket. Nurse Kitty promptly got busy assessing the patient and trying to work the arm back into place. In the end, Dave was able to work it back in and elected to ride the remainder of the descent (albeit a little slower). That my friends is one tough customer.

Conclusions: On descents keep weight back and use front brake judiciously. Increase the margin for error (slow down) if you are on the back end of a grueling ride.

Jim after tangling with
a barb-wire fence and
"cleaning" the wound.

Jim's mishap was not so much a crash as it was a miscalculation.  Treat barb-wire with utmost respect. Get your tetanus shot. And please please do not fill your mouth with water and spit on your open wound in a vain attempt to "clean" the injury. Your mouth is one of the most bacteria infested parts of your body. You are actually better off urinating on it than spitting on it (urine is sterile). You get the picture.

These incidents and numerous other minor bumps and scrapes confirmed that indeed this was an adventure not a video game, that that the human body is glorious and capable of many amazing things, and most importantly it may be the mind that is the real wildcard in all this.  Who would have thought?

"All problems in mountain biking can be solved by going faster, except the ones that are caused by going too fast."
     -- unknown

"Get a bicycle.  You will not regret it if you live." 
     – Mark Twain

“Pain is temporary, glory is forever”
      -- unknown

Getting Over It

Danger.  It's what was on my mind.  And that's dangerous.

With Durango just 15 days away my greatest fear is getting banged-up on a practice ride.  There's always that chance when mountain biking, but generally you're thinking about how to clear that log pile or rock garden or drop or whatever.  You're not thinking about what happens if you don't.  That may sound like a fine line but really it's a big fat one because the body tends to follow the mind.  Think about landing it and you land it.  Think about falling and you fall.

As of Friday, I had three crashes in as many days.  Not biggies but they could have been.  One I can blame on a dog that jumped in front of me as I was coming off the first Sole Trail bridge - nobody to blame there really.  But the next two were avoidable and only happened because I was thinking about not crashing.

Bad mojo that I have exorcised through technology.  I happened to watch this awesome 50 second video on the Contour web site.  Now let's be clear I am never riding anything as extreme as this trail.  Not even remotely close.  Ever.  Except in my dreams.  And while watching the video I am riding that stuff.  I am nailing it.  I think I watched the video 10x.  Next time out on the bike I hit it harder, had more fun, and most importantly thought about landing and not about crashing.  I was cured.

But there is another type of crashing that has nothing to do with mental state and has everything to do with equipment state.  And that's what happened to Sebastian today (video 0:27).  While my mental problem was cured, his equipment problem was about to bite him.  I think some fresh Stans tire sealant may have prevented his front tire from burping and instantly decompressing right when he needed it most - dropping down onto the Creative Playthings bridge.  I'd estimate he flew 15' horizontal and 6' vertical (down) before landing in a heap (still clipped in) by the side of the bridge.  I missed the crash but at least caught the aftermath on video.

Tangent: Speaking of falling while clipped in, there is also some amusing video (video 1:30) of another rider (don't know who) doing just that out near the bonus loop.  Classic and funny because it's happened to everyone who uses clipless pedals.  Which raises another question - why do they call it "clipped in" if they're clipless pedals?

Anyway I finished the ride with a rapid descent of the Blue Trail, letting the Turner eat up the roots and rock gardens of that sometimes gnarly descent.  It felt so good (I was 2.5 hours into the ride at this point) that I rode back to the top of the park just to bomb Blue again.  And I could have easily done it a third or fourth time except I was already overdue at home.

So I am clearly not thinking about crashing anymore.  I am just thinking about Durango.  Twenty-four-by-seven.

Chris

"Little hand says it's time to rock and roll."
     - Bodhi

On The Rocks

Close call today. Two actually.

But one was a downright scary.

Sunoco Property (new clubhouse?)

MY took a spill off the Creative Playthings bridge reportedly uttering "I'm OK" even before he hit the muddy ground. Somehow he emerged from the woods squeaky clean even after the roll in the mud. We'll call him "Teflon Mike" from now on.

SF hit hard on the rocks near the ruins at Harmony Hill. I was in front and it sounded bad.  The rider who was following SF later whispered by my ear "I don't think I would have gotten up from that one."

Urban art

These brushes with disaster are part of the game. The knowledge of what can happen focuses the mind, and that's a big part of the attraction of this sport. We just always hope the bumps and scrapes don't leave a permanent mark. So far so good.

The long grind up Skelp Level was sublime as always. JA led the way with AF on his tail the entire way. I on the other hand was avoiding the burn at all costs and felt perfectly content grinding it out in a low gear. That earned us the right (and the elevation) to bomb the awesome Black Trail downhill before tackling the Three Little Pigs (wet roots and all) and heading back to Marsh Creek State Park by way of the old Sunoco property (see pictures).

A trip around the Bonus Loop left me with 3.5 hours of pedaling.  Short of my 6 hour goal for this week, but I am feeling strong and after a two week taper will be itching for some Durango singletrack.

Chris

"To stop or not to stop, that is the question; the light is red, but my heart is green."
   -- unknown

Improvisation

Kirk wrestling his bike
in the Muck Pit

 The sound of an aluminum Klein frame clattering through a rock garden reverberated across the lake.  It was loud enough to turn the heads of two fishermen in a boat 30 yards offshore.  We were 10 minutes into the ride...

Dangly Limp Derailleur

...luckily the crash was followed by a hearty (albeit nervous) laugh from Kirk, and we took his bicycle wrestling act to a muckpit out by the Bonus Loop.

The fun was just beginning. On the backside of the bonus loop I picked up a stick which twisted the cage into my rear spokes and ripped my rear derailleur clean off.

We got right to work by removing six links from the chain and rigging the bike as a singlespeed in less time than it took Kirk to play U2's "Walk On" and Springsteen's "Long Walk Home" on his iPhone. The result was a very tight chain and I fully expected it to rip apart  after a few crank turns, but to everyone's surprise it held together.

Modification still holding
strong after an hour of riding

It was a bigger gear than I would have preferred, but it was nice to be singlespeeding again (I haven't been on my Rig since we started training for Durango).  In fact after we finished the ride on the east side we took it over to the west side for about 20 more minutes of riding.

In the end today's abbreviated ride left me behind on training for the week, but feeling pretty good about on-trail mechanical improvisation.

HD Glory

The birthday cam came out today. 

The birthday cam is a Contour GPS high definition helmet mounted web cam that my biking buddies bought for me for my 50th birthday. You see I am a mountain biker and a geek and they knew it would be the perfect gift...and they were right.

So today when seven of us headed to White Clay for a nice spring ride, I strapped on the helmet cam to document the fun. These guys have no idea how much I appreciate their thoughtfulness. Seriously.

But they also have no idea how much they (should) appreciate my thoughtfulness for skillfully editing the video before posting it to YouTube. Because you see I forgot I had the camera on. And I went into the woods to, well, relieve myself. And the camera caught everything - and I mean everything - in it's high definition glory.

You won't see that part in this video.

But you will see seven grown men having a hell of a time riding bikes in the dirt.

I am so lucky in so many ways.

Thanks guys.

Both Ends

Mike and Andy on Drunken Sailor

We had no idea what conditions would await us today. Sure we knew it would be chilly (20° at ride time). But what about the trails?

It turned out they were just about...well...perfect. If you have ever seen machine groomed trails at a XC skiing facility, then you have a sense for the trails today. The single track was 12-18" wide and well packed. Grip was 8/10. The only real problem was a couple of frozen stream crossings (and a frozen Camelback).

We had to ride in a narrow envelope. Downhill or off camber turns had to be ridden flawlessly, and straying even 2" off any of the single track would shut you down in a hurry. It took almost 2 hours to do the Lakeside Trail and Bonus Loop, but we must have seen 15 other riders out there, and at least 10 of them were grinning ear to ear.

Wide Section of Singletrack

We rode without mishap until we left the safety of the single track to visit some ice fishermen. Ice fishing at Marsh Creek is nothing like the scene in Minnesota. Here it amounts to a lone fisherman or two sitting on a bucket in the middle of the lake staring at a hole in the ice, probably wearing a pair of electric socks and sipping from a flask. Very Zen but...  Anyway when we spotted a pair with a special hut/yurt type thing, power auger, etc we decided to investigate. There was just enough snow covering the ice to make it ridable, or so so we thought until one rider went down. Hard. Instantly our mountain biking instincts kicked in and we laughed as hard as possible without going down ourselves. Eventually we inquired to be sure the victim was OK. I've been on both ends of that - laughing at someone else's misfortune, and laying there in agony listening to the laughter from others. I guess we've seen enough crashes - none of them life altering - so we can afford to be light hearted about it.

Hopefully it stays that way.

RIDER DOWN

Andy was ginning up a Chelsy's ride for Wednesday night, but I had already committed to a Thursday morning ride at White Clay, and I wanted all my marbles for that ride. Plus they were parking their trucks in Downingtown so they could end the ride at Chelsy's. I thought that was more like a Shirley Temple ride. In a real Chelsy's ride, we stop in town mid-ride.  That was we have the always entertaining ride home after Chelsy's.

The phone rang around 9:00 and I ignored it.  I was very comfortable on the couch with my daughter, and not particularly interested in getting an earful on the phone from a bunch of well-lubricated  mountain bikers. Eventually I found my way to the phone and out of curiosity checked for messages. Here is what I found (and yes it was in ALL CAPS):

RIDER DOWN. WE'RE AT THE STRUBLE TRAIL AND LYNDELL DRIVE. THIS IS NO JOKE.

The message was from Andy and it was about 30 minutes old. I called him and learned that Jim's carbon fiber bar had failed catastrophically on the Blue Trail descent to the Struble (we call this section "The Bobsled Run"). He had obviously crashed pretty spectacularly. Mike was already down there loading Jim and his bike into a car, and they weren't thinking hospital...but there would be no Chelsy's for Jim tonight.

I am reminded of the adage that with carbon fiber components you get "strong, light, and inexpensive - pick any two."  It sounds like Jim got a good deal on some lightweight components.

Anyway I'm glad Jim is OK and sorry for missing the call.

Chris

Seizing Up (repost)

I am reposting this blog entry from 5/28 because I've been reflecting on it and have a few things to add (not the least of which is this picture)...

Well you all missed a good one this morning. I know this because I was the only one there. I was hurrying to meet a buddy, when it happened it was just me.

Racing down the Struble at 6am to meet Andy at the country store...full bore, head down, and I caught a 3" branch in my front wheel (was hiding in the brush next to the trail). It must have stuck in the spokes because it stopped the bike instantly, I flew over the bars landed on my back and rolled on the ground for a good minute or two assessing the damage. I was FULL ON and never saw the dang branch, I was on the ground before I knew what had happened (unlike the familiar slow-motion endos where you know what's happening as it's happening - sort of the slow-motion thing). Helmet visor ripped off, seat post twisted 45 degrees, water bottle ejected, knee and shoulder banged up.

I have to say that compared to crashing when you are riding in a group, crashing alone really sucks. Not just for the obvious safety reasons. No, it also sucks because there is just no glory. Nobody to witness the drama. No one to retell your story at the annual beer exchange and bonfire. No. You just have to pull yourself together, limp out of the woods, and apologize to your riding buddy for being late.

I actually felt OK during the ride but now that I've been sitting for a couple of hours things are starting to seize up pretty good.

Like the man said, "not all pain is gain."

Time to reset the crash counter and pay more attention.

Mixed Results

Six of us ripped up White Clay this morning - from the park office to the half pipe and back in under two hours. And that's with quite a few protracted stops as a couple of us geriatrics were suffering off the back. Jim and Neil (new guys) showed us some new trails, including the tunnel and the Goat Trail. Some pretty nifty bikes in our group as well - a SuperFly, brand new Niner SIR, and a Lynskey Helix with a Hammer Schmidt crankset making it a "dingle-speed." I thought my Rig was a light bike until I heft a couple of these bikes. Now I know I am riding a tank.

After lunch I went out with the family for our weekly training ride (gearing up for next month's Europe trip). We entered the park and with about 25' of pavement to go before we would have hit the glorious (and soft) dirt trail, Sara did her first official endo. There are few things that will make your heart sink as quickly as hearing your 13-year old kid hit the pavement at 15mph. Luckily there was no permanent damage and within 20 minutes we were back home recapping the mishap and immortalizing the gore (see photographic damage assessment).

She doesn't want to hear it now, but this is the classic case of "climb back on that horse" because in less than five weeks we are heading to France for a week of biking. Are cobblestones softer than asphalt?

Chris

"Pain is Temporary, Glory is Forever"

-- unknown

It Never Happens

He was on my wheel when we hit the bridge at the bottom of the Sole Trail. This is a fun little stunt, maybe 18 inches wide with an abrupt 10 inch step to get on the bridge. You have to lift your front tire out of the muck and onto that step and then maintain balance for about 15 feet, else you go for a swim and maybe lose a derailleur.

As I was exiting the bridge, I did not hear the sound of rubber on wood indicating a rider behind me on the bridge. That's because he hit that step with his weight forward and promptly went over his handlebars (hence the sound of bone on wood). When I turned to see what had happened, he was lying on the bridge trying to extricate his wrist from between a couple slats of rotten wood. This is a big deal because he like, never ever falls. And it's not like he takes it easy or avoids the technical stuff (quite the opposite). He just never falls.

And worse, there was a female solo mountain biker pulling up to the bridge with a concerned look on her face. And another group of riders winding down the Sole Trail. So once we concluded no bones were protruding and no concussion, we saddled up to avoid being any more of a distraction then we already were.

After the double-climb to the east side and yet another bridge (this one 6 inches narrower and 50 feet longer than the last and with a tricky turn at the end), we were enjoying a well deserved breather when the solo rider pulled up. We introduced ourselves and invited her to join us for the Bonus-Bonus Loop.

Digression: The crank on my Rig has been creaking for a year now. Creaking bad. Rigs are notorious for this caused by a design flaw in the eccentric bottom bracket shell (EBB). I have rebuilt that EBB twice, tried all sorts of exotic lubes, voo-doo, you name it. Nothing has worked. Until I ran into Rob on Thursday and he managed to diagnosis it in about 2 minutes. It was like watching an orthopedic surgeon - he pushed the crank arm this way and that, listened to the creak, asked a few questions, and declared it to be a problem with the BB bearing, not the EBB shell. He loaned me a replacement crankset to test his theory, I installed it and "presto" - the year long infuriating problem was solved. And so now I was riding with Rob's FSA V-Drive crankset (which becomes relevant in about 6 miles)...

So the crash was a fading memory, the BB was whisper quiet, we had picked up another rider, and I was really digging the 180mm crank arms. We were in the groove on the Lakeside Trail when I felt an odd wobble in my left pedal. I looked down to see the pedal and crank arm hanging from my foot, not attached to the bike. I won't bore you with the reasons I couldn't fix this on the trail, but suffice to say that I stuffed the crank arm in my pocket (there's a joke here I'm sure) and pedaled much of the way home with one leg.

Turns out the crank arm problem was due to some contamination of the crank-spindle interface. It just looked like some darkening (old grease) on the metal surfaces, but I think that was enough to prevent a solid connection. A dental pick and some WD-40 cleaned things up nicely. A replacement pre-loader bolt (this one sheared off) and I think we're back in business.

A couple of beers pretty much solved Jimmy's (oops, did I let the name slip?) problem. Mine will require a credit card. But the infuriating creak is gone so as the ubiquitous t-shirt says, "Life is Good."