These days, a bowl of cereal could be considered "epic."

The word "epic" was reborn in the language bro-brah just a few years ago. A word once used to describe things that would last for a very long time, or the great journey or quest of a lifetime. Upon the rebirth of the word, it's definition has rapidly degraded from, say, the best day or storm of the year ("We just skied Tuck's in 3 feet of blower pow,") to anything that may be, but probably isn't, worth of a Facebook status, ("I just had some epic coffee!") Yuppies ruin everything....

A couple of months ago I was invited to the "5th Annual Oneonta Epic Mountain Bike Ride," by my friend Sam who recently moved to California. I had been invited previous years, but never made it. I am not a big fan of group rides, as they are typically slow, disorganized, and generally more frustrating than enjoyable. The stats from previous years were impressive, and I knew a few other riders going to the event, all of who were strong riders, so I figured I'd give group rides another try. Also, Sam had planned his vacation to NY to coincide with this ride, so it must be a good time!

I decided to split up the 3 hours drive a bit, and visit my good friend Allan in Albany area on Saturday on my way to Oneonta. We decided to go the AIR (Albany Indoor Rock climbing center.) I had been there a few years ago, and enjoyed it, but I wasn't much of a climber at the time. In the past few years I have been climbing more, and working out a bunch, in Rutland's Green Mountain Rock Climbing Center. AIR's walls are short, and have very few routes that actually need a rope. The gym had a few 5.8's and 9's, two 5.11's and a 5.13. When I flashed the 5.11a near the entrance, the employee's were amazed. I began to realize that this was more of a rock climbing family fun center than a rock gym. Before leaving the gym, I usually get in a good burn out with various body weight exercise. The looks I received while doing push ups pull ups, sit ups, etc, confirmed it was not a "gym."

The drive to Oneonta on Sunday was, well, wet. I got to town over an hour early, and I couldn't find any decent looking restaurants open, so Dunkin Dounuts it was, "America Runs on Dunkin." GPS brought me to Wilbur Park...not the right part. I sat in my truck, eating processed non-nutritive egg like product. The rain continued and it was about 40*. I had driven 3 hours, and had not seen a trace of another rider. Thankfully a few more people used GPS to find the park as well and pulled in at about 8:45, as I was putting on my bike shoes and stocking my pack. Well, at least I'll have SOMEONE to ride with. A minute later Sam came by on his extremely bright new Specialized. Que local knowledge. We pedaled to the other side of the park, where the pavilion was overflowing with ambitious riders, still 40 and raining, misery loves company, right? The ride was split into an A, B, and C group with the standard "A and B groups will be FAST paced, slackers will be dropped," speech. The goal was 40 miles, lots of climbing, and be done in about 6 hours. The "A" group started with 14 riders, three who dropped on the first climb, we hadn't even made it into the trails yet!

We had a diverse group with everything from aggressive trail bikes to a steel rigid single speed with drop bars, full lyrca kits to no-brand baggies. Regardless of style, bike, or age, once we were in the trails, one thing was obvious, these guys were real riders. The rain didn't matter anymore, vibes were awesome, and everyone was smiling. A few mechanicals, and flats split our group up, but all involved were locals, and regrouped a few miles later. It's always fun to ride with the people who built, and maintain the trails your riding. The Oneonta crew created a trail system that flowed well, with a great mix of fast and technical sections and features, with a great variety of old school root and rock and new school bench-cut, with berms and jumps.

With the continuous rain, it didn't take long for gloves and shoes....errrrr....everything to be completely soaked. Staying moving kept my core warm, but my toes were pretty chilly. The rain turned to snow. It was actually a welcomed change, because at least snow flakes kinda bounce off rather than waterlog you farther. The snow started dumping! Between the mud from my tires, the tires of the rider in front of me, and the snow, I could barely see without squinting my eyes. When snow began to accumulate, I was wondering if I should have brought my fat bike! The leaves, mud, and abundant moisture kept all the rocks, roots, and bridges extremely slick. It isn't often I get a chance to ride with high-caliber riders outside of races, so descending amongst rippers on new trails, in these conditions, was keeping me on my toes. We came across a feed table in what seemed like a random field. After a short break, the breeze began to cut through my wet base layers, and I was happy to get riding before a chill set in any farther.

We cycled (double meaning there) back through the park. There were some snacks and coffee in the pavilion. That coffee really hit the spot! I had packed dry socks and gloves, and took the opportunity to change them. I have a few pairs of riding gloves that are exactly the same, unfortunately the "pair" I got, was EXACTLY the same...two left gloves. Putting wet gloves on was depressing when I even thought ahead enough to pack a dry pair. After lunch our group began to disperse more than before. Other commitments, exhaustion, desire to ride in the rain, and more flat tires eventually left five riders. Sam's proposed route was designed to crush us, and it did a good job. The last 10 miles had just as much climbing as the first 30. The last climb split the last five into three and two. I rode back into the park with Seth and Jud. 39.5 miles. Seth, who had done an awesome job of keeping everyone moving all day, was not about to stop short of 40. With a short section of flat single track in the park, we hit 40 miles. "Yeah, this is our best 1/4 mile of trail," Seth claimed. "It's pretty awesome, I'm gunna write about it in my blog," I replied. I am not a liar.

The after party was hosted by local rider Todd, in his beautiful home a bit outside of Oneonta. Cold beer, tasty food, warm home, great people, and riding stories. I would've liked to have stayed longer, but the drive home took priority. I can't think of better way to end a ride that earned the name "Epic."

Thank you to everyone who made this event happen. Extra thanks to Sam Brown-Shaklee for the invite, Seth for keeping the "A" group moving and motivated, and Todd for a great after party. I hope to see you all next year, or hopefully sooner.

Tour Divide. Most Than a Silly Bike Race. part IV Kremmling, CO to the side of the road somewhere in New Mexico

Leaving Kremmling, CO I knew Evan had left a few minutes before me. I honestly came into Tour Divide not caring about how I was going to place. I had time goals, personal goals, but had no idea, or concern about how those would compare to others riders. At some point, when I found out that I was actually riding quite competitively, I started caring. At this point, it was a race for second, in my opinion. Jefe was days ahead, and there was no way I could catch him.  Sam and Kate (tandem team), had built a decent gap over Evan and me, but I needed something to help push myself, so I set out to try and catch them. In central CO I was feeling stronger than any other point in the race. My feet were beginning to get soar, but my knees were no longer an issue, and my recovery plan was allowing my legs to get stronger each day, rather than just digging a deeper hole into exhaustion. It was time to make up some more mileage.

Kremmling to Salida had some of the most urban-like riding of the race. After Ute Pass (mostly paved), we soon connected to  paved bike path which would bring us through some touristy mountain towns from Silvethorne to Breckenridge.  The hardest part with all of that was not get distracted by all the great smelling food and pretty ladies. Yayyyyy, shiny things! Okay, south of Breck, Boreas Pass. I could climb all day, so long as I see progress, I can crank out at 5-7 mph all day long with a smile on my face. On the descent of Boreas, TD race route has a not-on-the-ACA-map alternate, known as the Gold Dust Alt, a "steep" single track descent. This section of trail would have been a blast without all the gear and painful feet. Not that it want fun, but my condition definitely limited what I could enjoy, and the speed at which I could enjoy it. The rest of the day was generally uneventful. Another long day had me descending into Salida via lights that night. Salida seemed like a big town compared to what we came through. I was hoping to be able to find some decent food still open, but at 1030PM McDonalds was the the only thing still open. Coming into town, I was asking an police officer to directions to a h/motel, and food, and I saw Sam and Kate getting ready to push on for the night. I was a little bummed to admit I was to tired to ride on that night, but I was excited that I had at least gained enough ground to have them in my sights. McDonalds that night, and a bunch to go, as I had to stock up on something for the next day, calories are calories at that point.

I was a little slow getting going the next morning. As I pedaled on, going through Poncho Springs, just about 5 miles after Salida, I was kicking myself for not making Poncho Springs the night before, especially after all my off-route adventuring to find such crummy food the night before. A big day of climbing ahead, a highway climb out of Poncho Springs quickly turned to a more standard dirt road pass. Due to a silly GPS mistake and not zooming in far enough, I ended up taking a wrong turn for about a mile and climbing about 250vF extra. On the other side of the pass, the map showed that the small town of Sargents had a store and a restaurant. The very unaccommodating town had next to nothing on the shelves of the store, and the restaurant was not open for another 1/2 hour or so. A Gatorade and a few nasty granola bar like snacks, and I continued on my way. Some generally un-notable passes and some brutal headwinds later, I was working my way into Del Norte, CO for the night. A few miles before town, the winds were nothing short of crushing. A dot on the horizon was growing and growing. I had once again caught Kate and Sam. The winds were so strong we rode at about 7 mph on the flats, and when the winds were crossing I had to lean into them like I was railing a turn. Getting a slight wind break from a ridge, the route brought us through some extremely fun almost single track, which wove its way through the desert like landscape. I ran over a rattle snake and my feet were shaking the rest of the way into town, I hate snakes!!! The circumnavigation of the airport just shy of Del Norte was nothing short of frustrating as the winds once again seemed to fight me the entire way. But at least we had official Great Divide Mountain Bike Route signs to find our way! Del Norte had a nice little grocery store, and I had planned to meet Sam and Kate at a restaurant, which ended up being closed, so I retreated to my motel room that was so gross I think I would've slept better if I had just camped. The ants were marching, 1x1, 2x2, ... etc.

Sam and Kate has once again, gotten a jump on me in the morning. This time I caught them sometime in the early-ish morning. The first pass os the day was the highest elevation of the route, 11990, and then through Summitville and past some mining operations. The descent into Platoro was rougher road than I hoped for, and my feet were really starting to hurt. While eating a huge breakfast in Platoro, a guy tacking the race came in to say "hi." I felt weird, being greeted by strangers in random places, who knew who I was, and what I was doing. Weird, but really cool at the same time. The road after Platoro was just as rough, if not worse. The day kept us at considerably high elevation, and pushing as hard as I could, it eventually took a toll on me. That day I had crossed the New Mexico border, and I can't even say how much I underestimated New Mexico. I kept thinking it would be sort of a victory lap. I was wrong. Dead wrong. The climbs continued, the roads got worse, and I was getting tired. The elevation got to me, I was dizzy, started feeling sick. My diet was far from ideal, and I didn't have the food I wanted to be fueling off. I had enough water, but my electrolytes were low as I was avoiding the sugar of sports drinks because my mouth was starting to get soars from too much sugar, just trying to keep myself going.  Lunch got returned that afternoon, and I continued to push on, feeling sick as a dog. I couldn't concentrate, my body had become numb. I had a few conversations with people that I may never know if they actually existed.  About 730PM I had to call it. The weather was amazing, and I found a flat spot to pitch my tent. I slept from about 830PM till 400AM probably the longest night of the race, and I woke up feeling a world better.