The first trail repair session of 2008 was a resounding success: Mike Vitti, president of C.L.I.M.B. (Concerned Long Island Mountain Bikers) graciously hooked up with us through our local nature guru Mike Bottini, Tom Dees of EH town parks, and a crew of volunteers from the mountain biking and trails preservation communities. We met at the Hither Hills Visitor Center, and then re-convened at the overlook in Hither Hills, with the wonderful vista of the Atlantic Ocean on one shoulder and the sandy stretches of Napeague on the other. Our goal was to create a new sustainable section of trail to replace the trail adjacent to the overlook parking lot. The existing trail was suffering from severe erosion, creating gouges, spilling sand, exposing roots and generally becoming a headache for all. We were given a briefing with plan outline, tool demonstrations, safety considerations, then started at it: Initially we, the 15 attendees, cleared the trail brush by removing fallen trees, protruding limbs and beer bottles. The previous week, Tom and the two Mikes had laid out, marked and run the proposed contour trail, the last step confirming optimal trail flow, and grade reversals . Next was trail raking, pulling leaf cover to the uphill side of the trail, followed by the heavier cutting work using our new friends McCloud and Pulaski: long-handled tools and axe- like implements that did a wonderful job of creating a bench-cut in the side slope. We then leveled across the width of the trail, leaving a small downhill gradient across the trail to ensure run-off in a sheet pattern, then tamped it down. Returning the previously raked natural cover to the trail completed this portion of the task, and it was onto the next section in question. Here, closer to the parking lot, the trail had also eroded badly and was considered non-redeemable, so the objective was to re-route it: we brought the loppers into action, clearing dense brush, chopping and removing thick vines, then returning with a power trimmer to strip the thick vegetation to the base. Out with the heavy tools again, to break the surface, create a 2 foot wide trail, then tamp and cover: this time with mulch that had been delivered by the NYS Parks crew. This trail, closer to the parking lot, was routed to connect with the main trail, but was non-technical, gently sloped and wound through the beautiful native plants on top of the overlook, creating a short teaser walk for anyone so inclined to venture from their cars. Having walked the trail and admired our handiwork, we retired to Hither Hills Visitor Center, a wonderful NYS Parks facility: the spacious room, overlooks dunes and ocean and is filled with kids’ books, toys etc: full sized seal-lion models, jellyfish toys hanging from the ceiling, many educational tools, all relevant to the local environment... beautiful! Mike Vitti then gave a well-detailed and organized presentation on trail building, with a slideshow from around the state and nation to illustrate the engineering concepts behind sustainable trail construction. He also filled us in on grant application workshops, state / federal financing and volunteer recruitment. PHEW!! Full brain! We chatted on the way home, excited about the day, the turnout, the instant gratification, the information...I fielded calls from more local mountain bikers and trails enthusiasts and resolved to get our biking advocacy group, (Spokespeople) going asap: many friends, local cyclists and non-cyclists have expressed interest, as have the local community organizations. With a bit of effort, I know that we can make the biking here better and more inclusive, as well as strengthen our liaisons with the local trails preservation groups. Well done to everyone who attended, we all who look forward to the next event: with consistent effort, we will make a huge contribution to improvement of the trail management and cycling scenes on eastern long island. Keep your eyes out in November for the first general meeting of Spokespeople, and please contact me at sineadpt@optonline.net if you are interested in helping out in any way. www.climbonline.org

desert riding: part 2 of western states ride

continuing our merry trip in the desert, Dennis and I sit and write our blog, combined meories of travel, crashes, skin loss, eating++ and epic off-road memories..

DAY NINE (REST DAY) 10/13/08) Wound assessment, bikes to Poison Spider for same, we to the understaffed Pancake Haus @ the Ramada for hearty breakfast. Later, went to Miguel’s Baja Grille for dinner: waded through a small waiting crowd, and were eventually greeted by a fourteen-year old boy who told us to “wait 20 minutes.” After 45 minutes we were seated right at the front door, cheek to jowl with the waiting hordes. Bolted after sitting for five minutes or so without a waiter in sight. Wound up at Moab Brewery which is big, busy, and served passable food along with their own microbrews. DL had fish and chips and SF had blackened tilapia on penne washed down by Derailleur Ale and Polygamy Porter. DAY TEN (10/14/08) RIDE: Sovereign and Salt Wash Trails. Time: 2.5± hr. (RT); 3+ hr. (TT) Gross. elev. Gain: ??’ Mileage: ?? Notes: Disembarked at Willow Springs Road, rode around in circles for about 30 minutes, serarching for thrilhead—no luck! Returned to car and drove to Dalton springs Road trailhead. Ledges, slickrock, etc. Difficult navigation due to braiding of trails. Got some help from a Ride with Respect trailbuilder who provided data for Lat.40 map we were using. Met Salt Lake MTB stage-racing couple who panned BC Bike Race as overly technical, citing pro riders completing a 30 mile stage in over 4 hours(?). EATS: Desert Bistro. Excellent and creative menu coupled with earnest (but unpolished) service. Started with rabbit sausage with goat cheese and just-out-of-the-oven bread. SF followed with melt-in-mouth buffalo filet in a rich reduction sauce, and DL with Antelope medallions on corn meal patties in plum/whiskey/habanero reduction, washed down with a Ravenswood Vintner’s Blend Zin. Wow! DAY ELEVEN (10/15/08) RIDE A: Slickrock Trail. Time: 1.5 hr. (RT); 2 hr. (TT) Gross. elev. Gain: ??’ Mileage: 14± Notes: Had the trail almost completely to ourselves. Until the final mile or two, saw more dirt bikers (about five) than cyclists. Rode a counter-clockwise figure-eight loop inlucing the “Practive Loop.” Despite all warning against novice riders, saw a mother getting a shifting lesson from her husband in parking lot while young kids looked on. Always a blast, and the climbs are quite challenging. RIDE B: Amasa Back. Time: 3 hr. (RT); 4 hr. (TT) Gross. elev. Gain: ??’ Mileage: 11.2 Notes: Awesome trail: technical ledgy climbing and descent, great views. EATS: Returned to Miguel’s and found it much less crowded than last attempt. Had a delicious dinner of fajitas, fresh margaritas, and excellent salsa. DAY TWELVE (10/16/08) RIDE: Poison Spider Trail (“Cliffhanger”) and Golden Spike Trail. Time: 3.25 hr. (RT); 4.5± hr. (TT) Gross. elev. Gain: ??’ Mileage: 18.5 Notes: Short, super-technical descent right from trailhead, then a climb made quite difficult by tread of loose, round rock and sand mix. Upper sections very sandy in parts. Trail on mesa was flat and uninteresting jeep track. Upper section loaded with big uphill ledges and super-steep slickrock. At end of PST, met couple with dog. Scouted first section of Portal Trail—appeared no more exposed/dangerous than Lion Loop in Fruita. Riding couple comfirmed same. Attempted to ride lollipop loop at end of PST, but lost our bearings and wound up heading south on Golden Spike Trail (big rolling slickrock!) to PST. EATS: Zax for pizza and beer.

(bike) riding the western states rides 1-7

Following the flight from (drizzly) Portland to (sunny) Reno, Dennis picked me up in our rented "mom-van" as the Toyota would be known for the next 2 weeks. Packed the bike in the back and swerved our way over the mountain tops to South Lake Tahoe, only temporarily blinded by the views of the lake and surrounding backdrop mountains. We stopped off at the "Inn at the Lake", our temporary lakeside home, built up the bikes in the sunny parkinglot (overlooked by the local trailer park residents) and clambered up the 2 flights of stairs for a quick snooze. Chest heaving on the stair climb, I am reminded of the first day in Brighton every winter, when we scramble from the car park to the base lodge for the first run of the season.. and forget that we have travelled from Townline Road elevation 106 feet, to 7000 feet in Utah. Here 2 minutes drive west of the CA-NV border, the lake lies at 6200 feet, so the effect was much the same, pounding chest, blood-starved legs, heaving lungs.. "and this is just after doing the stairs" I thought.. "how are we going to manage the mountains?"

A few minutes drooling on the pillow, and we pack up our stuff headed for the first rise of the trip: Spooner lake,Nevada. Since this was to be a shake-down ride, we read the bike maps and noted that this was primarily a 4wd road rather than singletrack trails: we thus anticipated a gentle leg opener, foolishly not realizing we were going to get our quads ripped off, not merely opened.

The trail leaves the car-park, downhill on a jeep road, then begins the inexorable climb to the sky: we hit the granny gear minus one, almost immediately, and stopped talking to each other.

About an hour of this, and we reached Marlett Lake, bore a left and continued on a wide trail around the lake, then continued more climbing, taking a path onto the famed Flume trail. Surely the most photographed trail in the USA, it towers 2000+ feet over Lake Tahoe, loaded with boulders, hike-a-bike landslide sections.. after gawking and photographing, my next thoughts were of amazement that this actually exists, in todays litigious culture..the capacity for death, or worse..are very real in barrelling down these trails on fat tyres,

So far, so good: here, on day 9: I sit with (the much more organized Dennis (DL)) to map out our rides thus far..forgive the momentary backtrack.. it is worth it for the big picture..

LAKE TAHOE (elev. 6225’) DIGS: Inn at the Lake. A faded “boutique” hotel in South Lake Tahoe. Good access to most trailheads. DAY ONE RIDE: Spooner Lake TH (elev. 7000’) to Flume Trail, Red House Flume, up Hobart Rd., to Marlette Lake and back. Time: 3 hr. Gross. elev. Gain: 3000+’ Mileage: 20 ± (did not record) Notes: Jeep road climb up from TH (elev. 8200’) and back down a bit to Marlette Lake (elev. 7823’) shocked legs. Rode Flume clockwise, against prevailing flow; saw approx. 30 riders on trail. Amazing views and blind corners at cliff edge. Continued on Red House Flume trail to Hobart Campsite, (elev. 7500’) missing turn to Hobart Road, which climbed to Marlette Peak (elev. 8780’): a gruesome climb through logged forest Dropped down to Marlette Lake through lovely aspen groves, then back to Spooner Lake (20 mph bike speed limit).

EATS: Freshies: a tiny Hawaiian-themed eatery in a strip mall directly next door to Inn at the Lake. Sinead sampled the Chimay (blue label) ale and pronounced it lovely. Great fish tacos (as advertised), wakame salad, a bowl of edamame, savory chicken curry, and seared ahi a bit buried in sauce left us full as ticks. DAY TWO RIDE: Tahoe Meadows TH (elev. 8400’) along Diamond Peak ridge to Flume Trail, to Marlette Lake, to TRT, and back. Time: 3.5 hr. (RT), 4 hr. (TT) Gross. elev. Gain: 1000±’ Mileage: 28 ± (did not record) Notes: Rolling and rocky ride along diamond Peak ridge to Flume Trail. Rode Flume counter-clockwise and agreed that this is the preferred direction. Reached Marlette Lake (elev. 7823’) and lunched Safeway turkey and cheese grinders on sunny rock. Rode up through aspen grove to great rolling ride on TRT section open to MTB only on even-numbered days. Back to diamond Peak, and down to Tahoe Meadows. Amazing views all day long! EATS: Freshies: Sineada revisited the Chimay with home-made linguini and chorizo. DL took to the Udon noodle bowl with blackened cod in a lovely ginger broth. Saved room to share a vegan chocolate mousse cake. Yum. DAY THREE RIDE: Kingbury Grade North (elev. 7000’?) to Spooner Lake South TH (elev. 7000’) and back. Time: 3.5 hr. (RT); 4 hr. (TT) Gross. elev. Gain: 3925+’ Mileage: 22 .2 Notes: ride starts on TRT with immediate technical climbing up granite boulders. DL crashed hard within five minutes. Could not get rhythm before the granite reared up. Monster sharp gravel, both in trail and loose on top, on approach to South Camp Peak (elev. 8866’) damaged brains and bodies. Photo op on The Bench. Descent to Spooner Lake South TH through mixed forest was beautiful, and featured sandy swithbacks. Lunched on Safeway turkey and cheese grinders on a trailside deadfall near TH. DL struggled with back pain and bonk on return ascent to South Camp Peak. Amazing descent down to Kingsbury Grade rolled through granite gardens. DL was done. EATS: Waffle Hut for breakfast. Homey, local, and good food, though DL’s Eggs Benedict were drowning in a light Hollandaise. Dinner: Sineada went to Freshies for takeout, as DL was bedrideen with fatigue and injuries. Sineada had fish curry; DL had organic BBQ chicken with veggies. Watched Presidential debate for entertainment; lights out @ 8 pm? DAY FOUR RIDE: Fountain Place Road parking lot (elev. 6400’) to Armstrong Pass Trail to Mr. Toad’s (loop). Time: 3.5 hr. (RT); 4 hr. (TT) Gross. elev. Gain: check book??+’ Mileage: ?? check book Notes: ride starts on paved single lane Fountain Place Road, which kicked up relentlessly after Corral Trail TH. At top (elev. 7800’), turned right onto Armstrong Pass Trail, which continued to climb and roll to TRT. Sineada crashed hard on right knee halfway to Armstrong Pass. We continued to within 500 or so of TRT intersection, but backtracked after noticing major discrepancy in mileage compared to guide book; turned around and reclimbed over a mile. Lunched at intersection on Safeway tuna paninis—sineada’s was a bit compressed from crashing but no complaints. Continued climbing on TRT (gorgeous trail) to ridge line. Ride along ridge was unforgettable, with views of the lake to north and peaks to south. Small snowfields scattered around us. Got to top of Mr. Toad’s and lowered saddles against Sineada’s protests. Had a screaming ride down Mr. Toad’s—even Sineada loved it and rode most of it. No crashes! EATS: Heidi’s for breakfast. Good food, with a proper German hausfrau hostess and appropriate alpine décor. Dinner: Mazatlan Family Mexican. Monster margaritas were too sweet, but we were to tired and hungry to care. Friendly service and monster portions did their job. DAY FIVE

(TRAVEL DAY) Drove back up to Reno, then onto Salt Lake city. Sineada enjoyed the cultural experience at our lunch stop at the Subway in the Winnemucca truckstop/rest area. Continued across dramatic salt flats with stormy skies at sunset. Rolled into Motel 6 in downtown SLC (surprisingly dirty and run-down). Had dinner downtown at RedRock Brewpub. DL had passable fish and chips and Sineada had a seared tuna “sandwich.” RedRock ale was too malty and sweet for DL’s palate. Finished the evening with the late screening of Religulous, which was riotous. The young local crowd peeled with delight when they found their own city and religion featured in the film. This movie should be required viewing for all Americans. DAY SIX Drove on beautiful UT-6, then I-70 to Fruita, CO. First stop was Single Tracks bikeshop for maps and directions; owner extremely helpful but shop inventory very limited. Next stop was Hot Tomato Café for a monster Kokopelli pizza. Booked a room at LaQuinta which was a welcome change from the Sienna and Motel 6: big new clean room offered the space and comfort required for proper recuperation. Though we had not had a proper breakfast and were reavenous, we could nott manage to complete the task, and saved the remaining three slices for future reserves. RIDE: 18 Road "lunch loops" Time: 1.5 hr. (RT); 2 hr. (TT) Gross. elev. Gain: check book??+’ Mileage: ?? Notes: Rode up kessel’s Run to Zippety-do-da, with ridiculous exposures, where sineada caupght a fright on a cliff face, then back to parking lot for a break. Legs a bit heavy after all the driving. Rode up Kessel’s again, to Joe’s Ridge (not so great), and headed back up Kessel’s when DL biffed his front wheel and pinched flatted. We took that as a hint from the MTB gods to pack up for the day and open a cold brew. DAY SEVEN RIDE: Kokopelli’s Loops: Mary’s, Steve’s, Horsethief, up (!) Mack Ridge. Time: 3.25± hr. (RT); 4 hr. (TT) Gross. elev. Gain: ??’ Mileage: 27?? Notes: Wow. All the tech features of 18 Road, but as Nature herself presents it, with drop-dead Colorado River and canyon views everywhere. Wind screaming 25 kt, gusting to 40 kt, and threatening to tear us from the cliff edge into oblivion at any moment. Began at Lion’s Loop parking lot. Sineada biffed hard on the nasty rocky climb up Mack Ridge: blood but no tears. Finished ride descending Collarbone Hill to service road to parking lot. EATS: Fiesta Guadalajara. Excellent chunky salsa and solid margaritas preceded monster burritos and enchiladas. Fast, friendly service, ten gallon hats, lots of bikers, funky Tex-Mex décor (hand-carved banquettes and chairs). Perfect. DAY EIGHT RIDE: Kokopelli’s Loops: Mary’s, Steve’s, Horsethief, Wrangler, Rustler, Lion’s, down Mack Ridge. Time: 4? hr. (RT); 5 hr. (TT) Gross. elev. Gain: ??’ Mileage: 30 Notes: Epic day started cool (40’s) but sunny. DL crash-fest unnerves the I-chick. DL starts the day with a high-speed wash-out down Wrangler. High tire pressures needed to defend against rocky insults do little to assist traction on loose, fast tread! Rode Rustler (rated “Easy”) on recommendation of two Denver bikers, and following a tough little climb, did not disappoint with fast, swoopy riding. DL nearly launched big over the side and opened fresh shin wound on portage section of Horsethief during a flubbed abort maneuver. Lunched trailside on Mary’s on energy bars, and discovered we had “just enough” fluids between us to complete the ride. Found Lion’s Loop (missed it on Day Seven) with assistance of another lost rider: a gorgeous, technical rim tour. Mack Ridge was easier on the way down but did not fail to take its toll on DL who biffed, whacked the shin yet again, and landed with head pointing downhill and underneath bike, requiring outside assistance from the increasingly agitated I-chick. Made it back to car just in time for cold, three day-old pizza and Fat Tire ale. Drove via Cisco (ghost town) onto US-281 through canyonlands along Colorado River. Dusky colors on towers and moonrise to the east provide highlights of a beautiful drive to Moab. Checked into Gonzo Inn (home again, home again, jig-itty-jig!), and wolfed burgers and suds at the SlickRock Café. Evolution Ales were just the ticket, though the service was in rehearsal mode. DAY NINE (REST DAY) Wound assessment, bikes to Poison Spider for same, we to Pancake House @ the Ramada for hearty breakfast and more amateur service.

RIP uncle Larry

Yesterday, early morning, my uncle Larry died. Quite uncharacteristically for him, it was a quiet affair, slipping away from this world in his sleep at the district hospital in my home town, while the nurses lit candles, not for him, but for his wonderful, graceful wife, Peggy. Larry was a black sheep in our family, funny, since most of the family are black sheep of sorts, but he was legendary. Throughout our childhood, he was a philanderer, a bar-fly, a chancer, a divil, but always with a broad smile and a hug, always gentle and kind to the kids, a kind of pied piper of the pub scene in town..

His one true love it seemed to our young eyes, had been the RNLI, the royal national lifeboat institution: the company of brave ocean warriors who defied fierce storms to rescue suffering humans, off the coast of Ireland and England. Larry was forever fundraising for them, selling christmas cards, whittling wood in shapes of lifeboats, building model lifeboats to put up for auction..For a small, ruddy, roundy man, whom I never remember even seeing in shorts, never mind swimming in the ocean, it seemed odd that he, and his two brothers (my dad amongst them) were such ardent supporters of life-support along the coast.

But there you have it, none of them could swim, still can't..or at least, none of my siblings ever recall seeing any of them enter open water other than to sail, or row boats, so in retrospect, they may be more naturally inclined to support the RNLI as a back up system (in the same way that I used to pray as a child! just-in-case..!!) Ireland, with her history of maratime industry, sharking, fishing, sea travel etc, has always been tightly woven with ocean, and as a result, death and drownings by the ocean have been a fact of life here. So in stead of tossing floral wreaths into the ocean for Larry, instead of wasting money on Interflora or 1800-flowers, I will send a fat donation to the RNLI in Larry's name, and stand on my own shoreline at home in Sag Harbor, by Cedar Point lighthouse and read a poem in his name. http://www.rnli.org.uk/ Growing older, moving on to the USA, on return to New Ross at Christmas, I would sometimes bump into Larry in town, usually in the pub, though less so in later years. He would still have a broad smile, a warm hug, always fondly addressing me, and anyone else, as "pet": "ah Pet, life can't be too bad in america pet", "since you're looking so good pet". .We'd hug, exchange small family talk and go on our way. I would tell my friends travelling with me, some stories baout Larry, about his annual Santa trip to my sister's playschool, where he would be the uber-santa, with the real, big firm belly to climb onto, and the real ruddy face to press close to wide-eyed children.

Go softly Pet, I wish you fair winds and following seas.

bikefitting level 2: part 1

And so I find myself in Portland OR, getting picked up by Michael Sylvester (bikefitter extraordinaire) and dropped at Stephanie Edelman's house (PDX commuterchick) as part of the plan to develop the next phase of a bike fitting protocol for both Trek, and the greater cycling public. Since it it 3am east coast time when I hit the pillow, I am pretty shattered, though excited to be here. zzzzzz... Bright and early, Stephanie and I hit the road, by bike of course, and she thanks me profusely for assisting her in her "car-free lifestyle" ! We cruise (on her singlespeed commuter bikes) to her local java joint for a coffee bomb, high octane++ to get us to our first meeting. Buzzing with caffeine and enthusiasm, we meet at Michael's house for a breakfast of champions then ride downtown to his bikefitting studio. All the way, I am amazed at the number of cyclists out on the streets, the bike lanes and bike routes blending with cars seamlessly, the bike "blocks" at the intersections, the painted bike route markers on the roads.. all part of a greater portland alternative transportion plan that seems like heaven for cyclists and motorists alike.. So in attendance: Chris Pieck: Trek manager, facilitation, dream builder, cyclist Tyler (Trek) product development manager, head honcho in pushing new ideas forth, cyclist Warren: Prosthetist and Orthotist: works hand in hand with Michael fitting extreme cases, lower extremity biomechanic specialist, cyclist Lee: genuis, Ph.D student, engineer: specializing in cyclists, cyclists with amputations, P+O also, cyclist Michael Sylvester: one of the founders of the Serotta bike fit system, yoga instructor, fitter of 300+ per year, developer of level 2 bike fit program, owner of bike fit studio, ex-national cyclist / runner Stephanie: Massage therapist, bike fitter for Michael, scholar of human function, developer of bike fit level 1 program, cyclist Pattie: bikefitter, bike sales, developer of level 1 program, cyclist Jay, PT in VA, university research PT, incredibly talented clinician in ortho and sports PT, cyclist MTB and road Mark Timmerman: MD, family practice, sports medicine, developer of level 1, cyclist Doug MD, family practice, sports medicine, cyclist and me, PT, cyclist, enthusiast Oh Boy: what a group..I am honoured to be here amongst so many brains, all with the same purpose of improving bike fit for medical professionals, for shop fitters, for the industry: Mission statement of sorts: more happy asses on more bikes, for more years.. (I am in Lake Tahoe, mountain biking with Dennis, and travelling to Moab / Salt Lake region today, so this will be in a few parts.. THEN we get onto the MTB trail ride descriptions..suffice to say for now, 4 days, 4 rides, all 3 to 5 1/2 hours long, 2 crashes, one bout of tears, several beers, ice pack and perma-grin: Oh My GAWD if you ride mountain bikes, you must visit this place..)

new hampshire horrible 100

So here we go, rising at 5am in the dark, crawling from our damp tent into the cool New Hampshire air for the preparations to our race..Dennis and I have camped with a few of our fellow East Enders (Long Island EE) in the Greenfield State Park for the princely sum of $25 a night, slept fitfully on lumpy ground, tossing and turning as the local owls tried their best to freak us out, and then dragged our arses out of the tent to begin stuffing our faces with whatever we could get down before the 6:45am start.. One banana sandwich, one vanilla smoothie, one egg and one bottle of HEED later, we roll to the start in the field across the road. Southern NH is a long way from anywhere, and it feels like a long way from the 70.3 Ironman triathlon world that I inhabited this time a year ago..200 racers in the pre-dawn, 1 minute apart in waves of 20 or so, and starting "gun" goes.. actually really old school.. "ready, steady, go!"

Dennis is on a new Gary Fisher superfly, and dumbo here, down to one mountain bike, is on her Gary Fisher Rig, single speed: 32 x 19..

(Insert "girls" for "men" :) )

Recovered from my failed attempt to score in Pennsylvania the previous month (bailing with severe GI issues at mile 62 of 100 miles), I am determined to do better this time. Cooler weather, more single track, suits me fine.. last minute course alterations mean the course is 66 miles not 62 (100k), but on the start line, we are fresh and foolish enough to think this doesn't matter much! Little did we know how we would feel 8 hours later..

Off we go.. I am in a wave with a couple of guys and a couple of girls: the single speeders all in front of me for some reason, and Dennis with the Montaukers (Marty Ross and Danny Farnham) a few waves back. Within minutes, we are off the dirt road, onto rickety rail tracks along the shores of a lily-covered lake, and covered in mud. I settle into a single speed pace, being limited by gear lack, I cannot jump onto the trains of bikers that blew by me in their big rings.. so I spin happily, passsing the other girls (on geared bikes..) by mile 10, and settle into my own rhythm. The Montauk monsters power on by, arse slapping as they pass, and cheering me on.. I never see Dennis until the finish line, despite him being a couple of minutes off my wheel the whole way. The course has aid stations every 10+ miles, though it feels like much farther between stops: I have a full Camelbak and 2 bottles with me, so I only stop 2 times, mainly to pee in the trees, but also to refill with Gatorade or some cold bevvie from a jug on the side of the mountain. The NH weather has been unkind this past 4 days, with consistent rain and thunderstorms, although race day was 78-81 degrees and clear blue skies: however the puddles had turned into troughs, and the small stream crossings got successively deeper and longer as we ground through the course. The trails were pretty technical after the intial flat-ish start, and soon we were heaving and gasping as we hit the ski slopes and powerlines that climbed towards the heavens. I took solace in the fact that as I was doing my hike-a-bike sections, I was still passing guys on their geared bikes, on foot also! In this length of race, their comes a point when you are no longer racing to beat people, as you constantly swap places with them on sections, passing, then giving way, but in the back of my mind, I was still keeping my eye out for the other lasses on the course..6 hours into the race, I was slugging through a 100 foot long "puddle", up to my mid-thighs, and carrying my trusty steed overhead when I spotted Jennifer, the second lady, behind me. It was at this point that I had quit the PA race, bloated and exhausted, but I was in a different state here, cool in the trees, fed and watered appropriately, and I was AHEAD! I got a surge of energy, and was able to pick up the speed, through the newly cut 10% gradient scrabbley inclines, over the granite slabs and drop-offs on the top of some mountain or other, through the remaining rivers and mud gulches that swallowed men's derailleurs and ground V brakes to a halt. I even stopped to fix one guys chain with my CONEX links and took a moment to feel like a bit of an Amazon-warrior-racing-repair-woman..8 hours and 20 minutes later, with a surge of energy, I pulled into the field for a lap before the finish line, spotted the Montaukers already home and dry, albeit muddy and sandy, and finished proud, first female in expert division, first (and only) female single speeder, proud owner of NH EFTA (eastern fat tire association) windchimes and a cool medal, proud owner of at least 2 spoons of sand in my chamois for 6+ hours (eeek!) and proud owner of a sore backside.. Well worth it. Dennis roared across in 8.40 and had had a terriffic ride, no trouble with his new bike, more importantly, no cramps, no injuries, no (major) crashes..As we pack our muddy bikes away in the van, and I squirmed, raw, in the passenger seat anticipating 6 hours drive home, I resolved to call our sponsor Louis Shih at Champion-System clothing to see if he has a waterproof version of our bike shorts. Maybe it doesn't rain like this in China..

We will definitely be back to do this one next year.. except with 32 x 20. and faster!

Next stop, Vermont 50, then bring on the cyclocross season!

fourth weekend

And finally we sit still at the end of the "fourth" weekend, our feet aching, our backs straining, our hands puffy and dry: I slather on some peppermint foot cream, pour a glass of South African Chardonnay and reflect on the events.





Glad to have ridden my bike in to work on Thursday, on account of the village resembling the site of a bake sale with 5 minutes to go and all the goodies 75% off..the hoardes have descended on us for the weekend, possibly the season. There appears to be an inverse relationship developing between the numbers in town and their ability to do it in a mannerly fashion: I swear it gets worse annually: so I loaded my backpack up with some mesclun, mustard and chocolate soymilk and headed for the hills. On arriving home, I switched my commuter CX bike out for the singlespeed and cruised the woods by the house for an hour, then headed into town for dinner with Matt and John. John, the woodsman from NH, had taken it upon himself to nourish the bare-ish patch of grass outside the house with some compost in April: and now in early July, the side of the busy road is thick with the bodies of some 50 or so tomato plants, who wintered happily in the compost heap, and now find themselves on the side of route 114, open to assault and theft from passers by. I vowed to defend the patch, and will come daily at lunch time to check.and munch.. on their status!





Friday (the fourth proper) saw us varnishing Aisling, our beautiful wee boat, getting a coat on before a planned late weekend launch. We are tardy this year, in part with D-lo getting his new company builing underway, but also with the major renovation on the whaler taking priority. Styling now, we will have two very shippy boats to mess about in, and it will be worth the late evenings and early mornings for the past weeks..A quick 90 minute MTB ride with D before heading into Sag Harbor for the main event of the day..participation in the village celebrations at the Whaler's church. This year, I was invited to be one of the readers of the declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights, as a fundraiser for the Walter Reed Fischer House and commemorating the life (and death) of Jordan Haerter, a local kid from Sag Harbor who died while serving in Iraq in April.





The celebration was wonderful, an ancient church, quiet and cool on this muggy day, the simple white wooden interior a possible reference to the interior of the whaling ships from the village's past. A collection of 15 of the villages sundry members, and a congregation of 100 or so from town. Beginning with some historical perspective before launching into the D. of I., I truly felt part and parcel of this little town on the other side of the Atlantic (where I have my other home). Some patriotic songs, (for which I am still scouring the pages for verses) while I feel a little unsettled, coming from a warring nation and growing up pained by its sufferings, I haven't quite reconciled myself to the fact that my adopted nation is steeped in blood and has still such a militaristic culture. I find myself singing, no, belting out the verses of "this land is your land", an old Woodie Guthrie folk song from ths 30's, and wishing that this was the national anthem, not a mention of god, or fighting, purely a celebration of the topography and physical beauty from coast to coast.





...This Land Is Your Land
This land is your land This land is my land

From California to the New York island;

From the red wood forest to the Gulf Stream waters

This land was made for you and Me.



As I was walking that ribbon of highway,

I saw above me that endless skyway:

I saw below me that golden valley:
This land was made for you and me.


I've roamed and rambled and I followed my footsteps

To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts;

And all around me a voice was sounding:

This land was made for you and me.


When the sun came shining, and I was strolling,

And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling,

As the fog was lifting a voice was chanting:

This land was made for you and me.


In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people,
By the relief office I seen my people;

As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking

Is this land made for you and me?


Nobody living can ever stop me,

As I go walking that freedom highway;

Nobody living can ever make me turn back

This land was made for you and me."



The reading of the Bill of Rights followed, with audience participation in the form of clapping between the serene comments, especially when referencing such current notions such as limitation of government intrusion into reading material, government seizing of property, government acting without the will of the populace. I deepened my understanding of how great and good ideas are universal and timeless, as relevant to the Irish struggle with Britain as the the American struggle that I was celebrating, as relevant today as we see our constitution eroded in the name of a game that is not the will of the people. As I join in the group readings, I wonder if the Bill of Rights was more well read, for example in the weekly paper: would we have even the 28% support for this administration..A jolly good read it was, and I look forward to re-reading it, to better familiarise myself with the great ideas and ideals of the old boys of this nation, and those espousing these ideas today, just imagine, freedom, justice, equality, pursuit of happiness... How radical!


Saturday: 2 and 1/2 hours on the SSPD, alone: (Dennis is varnishing coat #2), I work on turns, particularly my right turns, the not-so -vanilla side.. and minimizing the braking. Definitely a good tactic, taking corners only as fast as I can handle the bike, the terrain, the balance: getting better at this stuff, I only dab once in 25 miles or so.
FIREWORKS:sponsored by Sag Harbor Yacht club: need I say more? This event gets bigger every year: we rode into town then went out in the harbor to watch the spectacle.

30 minutes of beautiful, gaudy, startling sparklers, then the most amazing finale, with a 30 second sinister militaristic component.. phew.. I am sure it was in memory of the young Haerter boy...very impressive, very moving sight..

Sunday, group ride, out east by Amagansett: 3.5 hours, the legs are nearly ridden off me but the hours working on the technical stuff pay off; On the return ride, I have more energy, better climbs, sharper corners, smoother descents. No crashes, oh except when I broke a chain on a nasty climb. Bang, straight into the stem as my chain exploded into the woods, as I hit a root while climbing hard at hour #2. D to the rescue with a new masterlink,nd we are underway in less than 5 minutes. What a hero. I resolve to learn to carry these things, looking ahead to the PA (100 mile MTB) race with a new, non-Wipperman chain. Lessons in life.


La Superica for dinner, belly bomb.. walk the vilage, hang time with Julie and Rick Laspesa from Rotations bike shop, home to write this, then to crash. G'nite, good weekend. Aisling will hit the water this week, and our summer evenings will begin..