Archive for the ‘Pavement’ Category

Back into the frey

Thursday, March 10th, 2011

After a good portion of time away from the computer I had to return. Money was running out and I started getting antsy. We’ve been back for a couple weeks now and life is busier than ever. But I’m not complaining, far from it. I’m just using it as an excuse for watching Law and Order reruns.

But since we’ve been back from Hawaii, I’ve been riding quite a bit. Weekly team rides, the regular commute, and finally some good racing. Last weekend the Dalles Mountain 60 happened and it was wonderful. I left Portland just before 7 and made it to The Dalles just in time to roll out. The race started from a coffee shop called Holstein’s around 9. Shortly after crossing The Columbia we started climbing up Dalles Mountain Rd shrouded in fog. The fog was thick enough to obscure anything past twenty feet, making the climb rather surreal. And then, just as we crested the top, we broke out of the fog into glorious sunshine. The descent was a tricky, muddy mess, which negotiated at high speeds was a real thrill. Finally out of the mud, the gravel kept dropping and at one point I glanced down to see 34mph on the computer, I was hauling balls. And then things started slowing down.

The route took us east to Hwy 97 where we dropped for about 1/4 mile before crossing the highway to take the old Maryhill Loops Rd. Tight hairpin turns on smooth tarmac made for a great descent.

Soon after we dropped back to the river and crossed over back into Oregon. A quick stop for a can of coke got me headed back towards The Dalles. The route back took us on Old Moody Rd which seems steeper every time I ride it, but eventually it leveled out. Five of us cruised back into town together fighting a headwind the rest of the way.

At that point I think most people headed home.

I decided to camp out and made my way to Deschutes State Park. It’s a nice place, and during the winter it’s practically empty. I found a good spot and made a nice fire. In the morning I woke up, made some breakfast and headed down the old rail-trail. About 6 miles in I stopped, enjoyed a nice beer, and watched a hawk fish from the river. It was slightly surreal, and although I had intended to ride the entire 16 miles in, decided to head home instead. It was a great trip, the race being the highlight.

A simple camp

Pinchpoint

New Ink

All of the photos from this trip can be seen here.

Looking forward to Echo Red to Red this weekend! More great racing and camping is always welcome.

Prelude

Monday, January 24th, 2011


Saturday was bluebird skies. Today would get there, but the morning commute was full of fog. Almost to the office, this is just east of Rocky Butte. I should really find a good route to work with a stop at the top.

Tomorrow I’m headed out for a long ride. One more before I leave for a nice island vacation. At least twenty miles of gravel tomorrow. W00t!

Arbitrary goals and whatnot

Wednesday, December 15th, 2010

Rapha Festive 500

A friend of mine used to write a lot about arbitrary goals. It’s important to be motivated, and lately I’ve been a little overwhelmed with my current work situation. Spending a lot of time at a keyboard pushing pixels around can have a negative impact if it’s not matched up with regular riding. Add in the holidays and the chamois cream and there’s hardly any time for personal reflection/arbitrary riding.

But then Rapha comes out and throws down a gauntlet of sorts. I haven’t quite figured out how I’m going to document this, but I’ve got a computer and a digital camera. So they’re probably going to receive a large number of photos documenting the odometer and large cans of beer.

500km is just over 310 miles. In one week. I normally put in around 150 miles a week, so this is basically doubling the load. Seems like a good challenge. And if success comes around I might just get a sweet little patch to show off.

Rapha 500k Patch

Rapha 500k Patch

It may not be an epic journey, but there’s dirt in them thar hills

Tuesday, December 7th, 2010

Anyone who knows me knows at least one thing. I like dirt. The kind full of the good bacteria that keeps me well balanced. Some people garden, I choose to ride trails. Living in Portland that can be a tall order if you don’t feel like driving. There aren’t a whole lot of trails in the city limits, but with some imagination and a couple hours, there are trails to be had.

I live in SE Portland so my usual haunt is Powell Butte. Again, this isn’t to say that the conditions are epic, but when you need just a little bit of dirt, it’s a good place to ride. In the last two months however I’ve found myself on the ground thanks to slick leaves and too much tire pressure. I generally only carry a co2 cartridge so I keep my pressure fairly high for the Springwater out-n-back. Riding home on 40lbs of skinny knobs is not how I like to roll. (Pun intended)

So the other day while working from home I fired up the google maps and started looking for parks nearby. I found a place in the SW hills that I had all but forgotten about. I used to read meters in this particular neighborhood and had only ventured into the park about 100 feet. Well last Thursday I saddled up and set out to explore the area.

It’s not a large place, but it’s fairly close to a couple other natural area/parks so I figured I could link up some dirt and make a good couple of hours out of it.

This park is about 7 acres in total with about two to three miles of trails, and it’s open to bikes. Well, I should say that there were no signs forbidding bikes, and the people walking in the forest were kind and friendly. I was laying down the only treads, and although it wasn’t a high speed kind of place, there was just enough shimmy going on to keep me happy.

In the SE corner of the area there is a hidden bit of trail that winds under a small tree tunnel before emptying out into a root filled short climb. This may be the only technically challenging spot in the area, but it was good nonetheless.

Tree Tunnel

Tree Tunnel

Roots everywhere

Roots everywhere

After a couple laps, I headed to the next park. This was a much more developed area, with wide paths for the most part. Marshall Park does have a couple narrow, steep, switchback areas though. The day that I chose to ride was a bit wet so the hikers were few and far between, which suits me just fine. One of the more difficult sets of switchbacks started from a crossing of Tryon Creek which was pretty cool in and of itself.

Alongside Tryon Creek in Marshall Park

Alongside Tryon Creek in Marshall Park

A dirt ride is never complete without a nice break at the top of a climb.

Rainy days keep the hikers away

Rainy days keep the hikers away

Marshall Park doesn’t have much in the way of trails. Tryon Creek State Park just around the corner is off limits to bikes, with the exception of paved paths. So running a couple loops in Marshall Park can be fun.

Headed back to Tryon Creek

Headed back to Tryon Creek

This is not destination riding, but with some creativity and free time it could be worked into a long cross-town ride. I’m working out a good network of off road paths/trails around the city in order to create a long training ride for next years long gravel races. Stay tuned for more dirt gravel reports.

More pie please

Friday, November 26th, 2010
Bar ends are the only way to go

Bar ends are the only way to go

Before the temperatures dropped into the twenties we had a couple nice days. By nice I mean slightly rainy and cloudy. Recently I’ve been riding out at Powell Butte due to it’s relative closeness to my house. I enjoy Forest Park for the mileage it contains, but I can be on the dirt in less that 30 minutes if I choose Powell.

The trails are usually empty, and when there are other people out there, they’re friendly. During the winter there are signs saying that the trails are closed when they’re muddy, but thanks to the trails being under cover, the mud is minimal. Riding at Powell Butte when it’s wet is one of the best times to be out there.

West side, headed south

West side, headed south

West side, headed north to the open field

West side, headed north to the open field

This is not a trail for bikes. Whoops.

This is not a trail for bikes. Whoops.

All you gotta do is show up.

Thursday, November 11th, 2010

It was supposed to rain all day. It’s Oregon in November and that sentence usually holds true. And in this case it rained most of the day. As of Sunday I was still fighting off a cold, and decided to spectate Sunday’s cross race. After watching some football, I picked Case up and we headed west. A couple high rollers over here, we arrived just in time for Matt to register and for me to get my shoes muddy. A couple free donuts here (thanks Switchblades), some free coffee over here, and a couple tall cans over there. Around that time, people I know and call friends started trudging through the off camber mud section right next to our tent. Ride it? Run it? Most definitely run it. Every person who ran that section made up time, and those who rode it often times found themselves face down in the mud. Joel had an epic endo, that resulted in a mud-face, but I didn’t catch it.

New PDW goggles? Check.

You Look Mahvelous!

You Look Mahvelous!

Ride it? Run it? Ride it!

Ride it? Run it? Ride it!

Brujo: Team Captain, Chief Heckler

Brujo: Team Captain, Chief Heckler

A's get smoke in the lungs

A's get smoke in the lungs

The grail. Now with cyclocross themed decal!

Never leave your grail unattended.

Never leave your grail unattended.

Protected by Cthulhu

Thursday, November 4th, 2010
Protect me Cthulhu!

Protect me Cthulhu!

It’s that time of year

Thursday, November 4th, 2010

Wake up and it’s dark. Go to the office and look outside at the rain. Leave work and it’s dark. Yep, it’s fall in Portland again. That means it’s going to be dark, wet, and rainy for the next five or so months. Not that it really matters. If you live here it’s an inevitability and you get used to it. Find a way to get some extra rides in, pick up some warm socks, enjoy being soaked on the ride. It’s the little things that make a five month stretch of rain bearable.

And to think it was supposed to rain today

And to think it was supposed to rain today

Bike Magazine gets it

Wednesday, October 27th, 2010

Bike Magazine coverage of SSCXWC10

Sweet. Thanks Colin!

Hi. We’re here to ruin the race for you.

Monday, October 25th, 2010

Heh.

This is why it takes me days to put something up. I’ve been off the train for four hours and I’ve got nothing to say but huh. Or heh.

A great way to start a trip

A great way to start a trip

Even when I leave for the train early I end up rushing. But Matt and I both made the train, and promptly set up shop in the dining car. Sit with the savages in coach? Please. Although we had a very interesting sleazebag across from us. Hitting on the high school girls and polishing off a four pack of Seagrams Peach Fuzzy Navel before passing out for the remainder of the trip. Needless to say, we were pumped to finally be riding in Seattle.

Originally we were scheduled to qualify around 11am, but our train arrived at noon. Lucky for us we knew the jerks handling the affair and we set off around 1. In each wave of qualification, around 6- 8 riders would take off on the course, the top four of which would go on to qualify. Well Team Better-Late-Than-Never only had two racers. Accompanying us were our friend Dan and Collin, the latter being a photographer for Bike. Sweet.

I think the average qualifying time was around 45 minutes. We took 2.5 hours. A quick stop to pay for new Cthulhu shirts, and halfway up the greenbelt I flatted. Not being anywhere near a bike shop, and having brought no tools whatsoever, we raided Sally’s house for a wrench to remove my rear wheel. Case found some beers in the fridge, and a Lucha mask. We were pleased.

Thanks Sally!

Thanks Sally!

Moving on to the first checkpoint I flatted again. We found the pinch in the first go around, and the second time was a large piece of glass. But we were not dismayed. We pressed on, stopping frequently for photo ops with Collin. At first we thought he’d get tired of taking pictures of us doing stupid things, but he kept pressing us for more. It was the best qualifier I’ve ever experienced.

Being the last group out on course, the checkpoints were relieved to see us finally come through. The rain wasn’t very serious on Saturday, and the spirits were still high.

Checkpoint #2. Thanks for the beer!

Checkpoint #2. Thanks for the beer!

Moving on we found an abandoned checkpoint and cleaned up. A foam hand type thing, and some race ribbon took a ride with us back to the start.

Here Dan sports the latest in cycling fashion.

Here Dan sports the latest in cycling fashion.

By the time we got back to the finish, the event was mostly torn down. But thanks to our natural talents and dashing good looks we qualified. We felt a little bad for the folks that tried but didn’t succeed. Then that faded.

Portland totally did that yesterday. Sheesh.

Portland totally did that yesterday. Sheesh.

Having spent enough time in the south end, we found our way through downtown and had a stop for food at the Athenian. With extra time to kill, we moved on towards Shorties. And after a while we headed to the post qualifier party. Finally putting the bags down for a couple hours was a nice relief. The party was great. Except for the shit talking on my fair town of Portland. But have no fear, we stood up for Stumptown. Then some people rode stationary bikes and we took some liberties with the unsupervised belts.

I believe it was first placed fixed. Unless there was another?

I believe it was first placed fixed. Unless there was another?

Did you remember to wash your hands?

Did you remember to wash your hands?

At some point, Cory and I were sufficiently annoyed with the party and we found our way home. In the morning, the sun came through the windows and I was wide awake. For a few minutes there is was touch and go, but after a short walk for coffee and a pastry that solid feeling came right back. We watched the Steelers barely eek out a win, drank expensive Bud Lights and watched the sky open up on the city. Finally around 1 we felt fully prepared. Justin picked us up at the bar, and after the race he even dropped us at the bar. Justin, you made our weekend!

Torrential downpour. Absolutely gnarly amounts of water fell on the highway as we headed towards Kent. Within 100 feet of exiting the car, every article of clothing was completely soaked. The mud was like soup. The 45 minutes before the race was wet and very cold.

And then there was the race. That thing we came up to Seattle for in the first place. We lined up, sort of, and then we were off. The course was twisty, tight, fast, and always on. The run ups were perfect. The barriers were a foot and a half high. There were six of them after the gravel run up. The whoops were steep and air was had. There was beer everywhere. The start of the race was a hill climb. It was wonderful. Justin all the race photos, Thanks again!

We're taking the hill. And throwing waterballoons in your face.

We're taking the hill. And throwing waterballoons in your face.

Perfect course for a fixed wheel. Fast and soupy.

Perfect course for a fixed wheel. Fast and soupy.

One of my favorite styles of barriers, the over-under was steep and fast. It dropped right to the track crossing, the sides of which were fun for hopping.

Over and under. Ride it!

Over and under. Ride it!

I’m not much of a fixed gear fan, but my crappy 6 year old Iro was awesome. Great gear choice, complete commuter style with the front disc brake, rear fender, and blinking lights made the race not only fast, but fun for the haters.

Taking the inside line.

Taking the inside line.

Every time I passed the finish I was amazed they weren’t pulling me. Low and behold I didn’t get lapped and I completed as many laps as the winners. The last two laps were getting faster, and my group of racers was getting hot. There was a Yakima Vigilante trading spaces with me for most of the race, and finally I pulled away from him and took my middle pack placing. Results aren’t up yet, so you’ll have to take my word for it.

The best kind of mud, loose and fast.

The best kind of mud, loose and fast.

After saying our goodbyes Justin took us back to Seattle. Matt and I met up with Cory and watched Favre throw to the Packers all night. For reasons you don’t need to know, I ended up walking up Queen Anne, and the rest of the night floated away. Cory and I had some beers at the house, shared some laughs and the alarm came much too quickly.

So thanks for the fun times Seattle. I’m not sure why the rest of Portland couldn’t make it up, they missed out on a great time. The course was one of the best I’ve ridden, the support was top notch, the organizers were having a great time, and I managed to come home with a bunch of extra crap. At this point, San Francisco feels a long ways off, but we’ll see what happens.

I think it’s time for a nap.

Bring the Noise, bring the sprained ankle

Tuesday, October 19th, 2010

Meh. Am I getting older? I must be if I can go on a ride and somehow twist my ankle without even knowing it.

Forest Park was pretty great. I would estimate over 100 people showed up at the Thurman Gate to voice some concern over the lack of singletrack in the park. I don’t know if we made a difference, but it was nice to see a show of support from the community. Something that I did notice, that I wish was more evident, was the amount of “normal” people who showed up. The biggest voice of disapproval seems to be fearful of opening trails to the adrenaline junky crowd. What I saw was families, kids, adults, teenagers, and dorky dudes in neon. These people aren’t knuckleheads who huck off jumps. We’re just normal, tax paying citizens, who want to ride some trails and get cozy with nature.

It was a great ride though.

After Forest Park I made my way across the St. John’s Bridge and hauled ass for a garlic meeting. I must have been pushing too hard on the fixed gear, because about an hour later I started getting a real sharp pain in my ankle. Then it progressed into a shooting pain in which I couldn’t even stand on it. It was hella lame I have to say. About an hour into the Noise ride I bailed and headed home. Bummer bro. I was looking forward to that all year long.

But I had a good time while I was hanging out. And Drew seemed to have it all under control. Good times! Can’t wait for next year.

Where am I?

I found this spot fairly quickly after we moved to Portland. It's a great kick-it spot

The WIllamette is moving slow today

The WIllamette is moving slow today

St Johns bridge on my way to pick up seed garlic

St Johns bridge on my way to pick up seed garlic

Across I-5, for the first Noise stop

Across I-5, for the first Noise stop

I like this game, but my ankle was toast

I like this game, but my ankle was toast. I was this close to the belt this year! Not.

Forest Park and Noise tomorrow

Friday, October 15th, 2010

For the ten people who read this blog, I supply the following info:

Share the Park

Directly from the site:

This event is intended as a peaceful action to voice our disappointment with the recent decision by Nick Fish and Portland Parks & Recreation to say no to increased bike access to Forest Park. We invite all those who share our passion for riding in Forest Park to join us for a gathering and a ride. We like to show our resolve to make Forest Park a place where cyclists don’t feel excluded, but instead are treated at par with hikers, runners, nature watchers, and dog walkers. — We ride. We care. We share.

9:00am: gathering & social at the Thurman Gate entrance to the Park (at the very end of NW Thurman St).
We will serve FREE freshly brewed coffee and pastries for cyclists and non-cyclists alike.

9:30am: start group ride.
We will break out in a couple groups who will ride out-and-back loops of various speed, length and duration.
Beginner riders and children welcome!

Cthulhu will be there in support. Hope to see more people out there.

Soon afterwards some of us will be headed to the Noise ride.

More info on the facebooks.

Cross Crusade #1. Alpenrose. October 3rd, 2010

Tuesday, October 5th, 2010

Three years now. It’s been three years since I started racing cross, and I can’t deny that I enjoy it. To be honest, I kind of hate it too, but the pleasure derived from pain wins out every year. This year should prove to be no different.

A couple things were different this year at Alpenrose. The north side of the property has been under construction for some time now, which meant that a new section was opened. The south-western portion of the property, below the old west town was hands down my favorite. Swooping turns, and a nice climb back to the track. The go kart stairs are still in effect, and the track is still a great maze of cones.

The rain never materialized, but the spirits were there. People were losing their shit for cross, and racers were turning themselves inside out just to get the advantage. Next week is Rainier, which is my favorite race of the season. It usually features a long, grueling climb to the road, and a ripping fast descent to the marsh. I don’t plan on racing each race of the Crusade, but Cthulhu will be at everyone heckling, and having a good time.

See you there!

Here are a couple photos from Sunday. I had more, but my finger kept getting in the way. Stupid fingers. Good for nothing I tell you.

Quiet time with Marv

Quiet time with Marv

Uland holding strong on the southwest climb

Uland holding strong on the southwest climb

Judd hopping the barriers

Judd hopping the barriers

Random Sellwood racer turning the tree above the gokart track

Random Sellwood racer turning the tree above the gokart track

Seattle is all fun and games, and then your head hurts

Friday, September 24th, 2010

Dank Bags

I probably don’t/shouldn’t have to say much more. A short trip to Seattle is a double edged sword. Getting in and get out with as little damage as possible means making up for lost time, but this guy knows how to pace himself. I’m still finding Dick’s cheeseburger wrappers in my bag…

So mixing up pleasure and business is a pastime that I support, and this trip was no different. I didn’t get as many photos of bags as I would have hoped, mainly because there aren’t many messengers left in the biz it would seem. Old friends have moved on to new things: school, new jobs, other places, but those that were left were kind enough to go flap in/out for the camera, and that’s all I ask.

The photos I did take of bags are going up on the site shortly, but here’s the rest of what I saw.

A stop by Cool Guy

A stop by Cool Guy

Dress the part, go anywhere you like

Dress the part, go anywhere you like

Schooner in the sound beers in the park

Schooner in the sound beers in the park

Stuffed animals getting it on

Stuffed animals getting it on

Double Darn waiting for the Core Whore

Double Darn waiting for the Core Whore

Adam's old table

Adam's old table

Sea Center late night beers.

Sea Center late night beers.

No hands, no feet, crooked bars, bent wheel

No hands, no feet, crooked bars, bent wheel

A little later, sitting on the Hooters dock on S Lake Union, my head started really pounding. The train was an hour late leaving the station, but eventually I made it home. It’s been two years since I lived in Seattle, and the more I visit, the more I miss Portland. It was good to be home. It still is.

Five stop signs is just enough

Friday, September 17th, 2010

I’m not sure about the rest of the country, but here in Portland we have some issues with traffic control. There is a movement to lower speed limits within the city of Portland, but it never gets very far because ODOT has control over such things. So we have streets that are out of control, where people are hit and killed fairly often, and there isn’t much we can do about it.

But if you live near an intersection and feel like people are speeding too much, you can call the city and they’ll put a stop sign up for you. But what happens when your intersection is in a small neighborhood and consists of five streets meeting each other? I’ve sat at this intersection and watched as cars and bikes sail right through, and honestly who can blame them? If you’re heading east on Mason, there are three stop signs within 30 feet of each other.

Five is too many

And to clarify, no I don’t stop at these stop signs.