Saturday Ride: Jesse and Stacy's Adventure.

6:45am: Lu Lu's. Slapping my camelbak down on the counter and pulling money out of a plastic bag the barista slides the jet black americano across the counter. Stacy pulls up and after a few sideways glances we cruise coffee in hand to the Santa Cruz metro station.

7:15am: Running to the bus, we grab the last two bike racks and plop into the seats for the ride to Aptos. The guy behind us seems nervous and stares out the front of the bus while making a throat clearing noise. Across the isle a Mexican woman scribes a crusifix in front of her as the bus departs with her right hand, in her left is a plastic bag with two cans: a Tecate and a Natural Ice. To my left two young girls obviously departing an all night party sleep leaning against each other. I love public transit Dropped off near the train tracks in the morning fog we strap on the helmets and depart.

8:00am: I'm standing up and cranking up the fire road of Nisene Marks State Park, roughly 3 miles in to the ride. Ol' Yeller and his one aged gear are in top shape (relatively) and my legs feel outstanding. Unfortunately single speeds are an antisocial ride machine. I simply HAVE to crank ahead and maintain speed or I am stuck. Stacy pulls up shortly at the pull out I've chosen for a stretch.

9:10am: 9.2 miles of constant sandy uphill has me stopped at Sand Point Lookout. I chat with a few guys as they get ready to descend and they ask what I'm riding. I tell them "Braille. We're headed for the Demo." The long haired blonde guy sporting a Mark Weir mustache eyes my one rear cog and flimsy tensioner and says as he lets 10 lbs. of pressure out of his tires, "Oh man, on that?" Yes my friend... on this. If you could only cast a glance at my yard, Leon in parts and then my bank account, you'd have a clear idea why. Stacy pulls up not long behind smiling huge and stoked! Stacy never seems to lose her positive swing on anything! She's just as happy about this ride as she was 9.2 miles before. The fog obstructs what would be a clear view down to the ocean, but adds a cool temperate feel to the ride. The ride up from Aptos to Sand Point seemed at this point, well, kinda easy. Ok, at least it went by faster than I thought...

10:00am: Intersection of Aptos Creek Trail and Ridge Trail, 12.2 miles into the ride. Stacy swings by as I'm stretching out on a tractor left behind from the recent fire. "Ok, we had to earn those last 3.5 miles." Stacy replies, "No KIDDING!" The climb, which has yet to relent once immediately went steep after Sand Point. My calves already sore from the work out two days before were screaming. Not the scream of a fresh muscle being stressed, but of a tired muscle giving that stinging stale ache that begs, "What are you DOING to me?" The 3.5 miles to the top of the Ridge Trail were brutal, broken only by two brief downhill relief sections. I feel strong, but a fair bit less interested in climbing anymore.

10:15am: Stacy leads us down Ridge at an impressive clip. I enjoyed watching her navigate that trail with skill that she has learned in such a short period of time! Ridge soon leads to Braille and after negotiating the dips and drops of that awesome trail, we are spit out onto Hihn's Mill Rd. Realization sets in. We're roughly 15 miles into the day, just under 13 of which were straight f-ing uphill. From where we sit I estimate we're roughly 33 miles from my house, and NOT as the crow flies! If a crow ever flew the route we had to take to get home, I'd slap its silly face.

10:45am: I always hated that climb out of the demo. Least of all after climbing up from Santa Cruz, made worse still without the luxury of a granny gear. 18.2 miles into the ride, I chill with Stace in the only slim patch of shade in that god-forsaken parking lot, where on a normal day rides begin and end and where today I would NOT be loading up my bike for the drive home. No, we needed to saddle up and climb back to the top of Ridge. Halfway up, in the now shinning sun I can see the damage of the summit fire and just how close it came to our riding paradise. Halfway up I begin to feel my right knee ache every time it raises up the upstroke. Halfway up Stacy exclaims, "I'm hosed..." After a brief discussion on the medial collateral ligament and a brilliant insight on the knee when pedaling by Stace we're off again. This time were offering less excited encouragement..."We're almost there..." "Not much longer..."

11:15am: Top of Ridge Trail, 25 miles into the ride. "Ouch" says the legs. I'm guessing that at this point our total elevation gain has to be in around 3000', but i really have no idea... I feel daunted by the 12.2 miles left to Aptos, and the 10 miles left to get to my house. A nice loud POP! relieves the pressure in my knee, and the ache in the MCL abates. We relent to the trail almost in resignation. Our legs are TIRED, dusty and shaky. Luckily we have a LOT of downhill left, but that goes fast and was ever so relaxing! It reminded me of being a kid when Zach and I would take the old mountain bikes up Centerville Rd. to the rim of the canyon I grew up in, then turn around at a look out on that dusty gravel road and ride MILES back down. Fast gravel downhill turns are scary but aways remind me of that.

Sometime in the afternoon: Aptos. I've lost track of time, and Stace seems to as well despite the time keeping machine strapped to her handlebars. The ride is done, but the getting home has yet to happen. It seems twice as daunting as the initial ride up did earlier that morning. These 10 miles not only include hills, wind, etc., but cars... We wait forever to get going, and I exclaim, "You realize we're subconsciously waiting for a bus or a friend to happen by..." With a chuckle we head off... The ride through town was agony. As we turned through a stop sign to climb out of Capitola Village a Mexican dude on a bike too small for him pulls up next to me and grins a huge grin as he says, "Wanna Race?" I must have looked an easy target at that point... I won... barely. A brief swing by Family and we are able to dribble tri-flow on our ridiculously dry dusty chains. This adds a relief from the noise and drag, but does nothing to take away the remaining 7 miles...or whatever...who cares...

Some other time in the afternoon: Seabright Brewery. We got some odd looks as we plopped down at our outside table. We must have looked haggered, but all we could think of was food. We toast to an amazing ride and devour our food. Once we gather ourselves, we complete the remaining miles home. After parting ways and noting the total milage: 48 miles. We proudly hug and head to respective homes to crash. I have since fallen asleep three times in 30 minutes. The Demo rules, and there is no better way to appreciate it than getting yourself up there on your own power! Downieville, here I come!!

Good luck to Dusty and any of the other Miracle racers competing in the Central Coast Cross-Country tomorrow!

Just me and Ol' Yeller

Oddly the height of my training comes just past the halfway point in the season, but clearly it makes sense as the course work and testing has ended temporarily and I find myself with far more spare time that I had just weeks ago. Slipping back into a relaxed rhythm is not necesarily easy and not the least bit automatic. I found in the first few days I was just as busy as I had been during finals, but I appeared to be busying myself with the task of relaxing. Almost defiantly I just sat on the couch and-- almost rushed to sit on the couch-- and just do nothing. Luckily thought, once the pace of relaxing and recharging set in, effort toward training soon followed.

Leon

Leon, the Chameleon is up on the rack for an undisclosed period of time for some long overdue replacements and repairs. By the time the Downieville Classic comes around in exactly one month I anticipate that Leon will shinning and ready. This begs the question, will Jesse be ready? By luck I managed to eeek into the lottery for the highly coveted All-Mountain division, which includes a 30-mile point to point cross-country race on Saturday, and a 17 mile downhill race Sunday. If that weren't enough, I assure you the devil is surely in the details here. The race saturday begins with an 8 mile climb, averaging slightly above 10% grades at elevation and with a gain of 3000-4000'! The second half of the course descends the grueling Downieville Downhill, chalk full of rocks, hills, cliffs and speed. This will of course be the same course I must race Sunday. The trick of this event will be that riders are unable to change any aspect of their bikes, causing them to choose a machine that will be suitable at best for each event--a gruely XC and one of the most exhausting and challenging downhills. Leon is undergoing the proper preparation. Is Jesse?

Well, beginning here is the story of Jesse and Ol' Yeller, the old, reliable and steadfast bicycle. Not long ago, I took the old machine, a 1998 Specialized M2 Stumpjumper built on a 2000 M2 frame and removed the entire drive train, shifters, derailleurs, etc. I spaced out the XTR hub and put on a tensioner. With the help of 5 lock rings I cranked tight the bolts holding the 10 year old 32 tooth chainwheel onto the 10 year old stock specialized cranks and alas now call it a single speed. Side note: I'm not real big on this new "single speed movement". People talk about these bikes and the people who ride them as this odd subset of riders. Really, until the mid to late 80's there were no such things as gears, derailleurs, etc. ALL off road bikes were single speed, and we didn't call them single speeds we just called them "bikes". What you find when you return to riding with just one gear and a freewheel is that it feels just like riding bikes used to feel like: quiet, simple, efficient. It comes equipped with gear that was top of the line 10 years ago including XTR V-brakes, XTR Hubs, answer allumilite bars and a Rock Shox SID 100. Having this bike around has changed the way I look at my every day rides, and suddelny when I no longer have the luxury of a granny gear, I now ENJOY long uphills. I even look forward to them.

So, this new inspiration from an old worn out machine, jury-rigged together as a mix of both top of the line bicycle components and hardware purchased for cents at the local hardware store, has me up and training hard and often. I divide my time between long uphills, and steep short sprints. I like to get equal parts sitting in the saddle and standing up cranking. I have visions in my mind's eye of Sierra trails, rocks and cedars that keep me focused, and a constant flow of affirmations keeping that focus ahead of me, rather than behind. Thanks to Stacy guiding my strength training I wake up two or three times a week with screaming sore muscles. The featured muscle this morning: the gastrocnemius, otherwise know as, my calves.

July 11th is the beginning of the event. Until then, rest assured you'll be able to find me and my old yellow machine somewhere up in the hills around Santa Cruz making the most of my time off.