Another epic on pavement

If you’ve ever driven along I-70 between Frisco and Grand Junction, you’ve probably noticed a bike path that parallels the interstate. I’ve always been kind curious about the path and thought that it’d be kinda cool to check it out. So today, Andy and I hit the path towards Vail. Andy had to turn around after about 45 minutes because he had to catch a plane to Iowa. He’ll be working like a dog all of next week wrenching bikes for the Rassy camp at RAGBRAI. I continued on the bike path to Vail, and in the process, had a few close calls with other riders on the path. It seems to be really popular with slow moving retired folk. It also contained a few people that seemed to enjoy nipping the apex of some of the blind corners at high speeds on the wrong side of the path, despite warnings from signs. I actually felt safer on the highway! I rode through Vail and then hit highway 24 for Leadville. Highway 24 took me over two mountain passes, Battle Mountain Pass and Tennessee Pass. I noticed a set of railroad tracks that ran along the highway. At one time, they were supposed to be the highest mainline mountain pass tracks in the nation. My computer told me that the last train to use the tracks was back in 1997.


A sweet bridge on the south side of Battle Mountain Pass with train tracks running below.


I continued on to Leadville and then headed north on Highway 91 back towards Copper Mountain. Highway 91 took me by several mining operations, most of which are defunct, and one in particular, Climax Mine that is temporarily out of operation due to the low value of the mineral being mined. They mine something up there called molybdenum, an alloy that is used in the production of very hard steel. If you live downstream, I wouldn’t drink the water.
After passing over Fremont Pass, the real fun began. Part of Highway 91 is so steep, that my coasting speed got up 55 mph. It was a pretty windy day and the wind was pushing me from one side of the shoulder to the other. I’m really glad that I didn’t crash as it probably would have hurt worse than my crash in Durango.
At the end of the day, I logged about 108 miles and around 6,600 feet of vertical. All in all, a pretty sweet ride!


Fremont Pass and Climax Mine off to the right.



This sign means that you're fixin' to haul some serious booty.

Summit County Epic

Andy and I hit the local greasy spoon for some vittles and black gold to fuel up for one of those types of rides where we had no real plan other than riding all day and exploring. We started out on the West Aqueduct Trail, a trail that he actually did some trail work on as part of his job with Keystone. We connected onto the Red Trail and eventually hit the Colorado Trail. While on the Colorado, we hit a smooth section of trail that contained several screamin’ fast downhills coupled together with switchbacks. It was definitely one of my most fun, memorable moments on a mountain bike. I think that I have another new favorite section of trail! We dropped down into Breckenridge and Andy started talking about Daylight Donuts. I rarely eat donuts, however I love a good donut. As luck would have it, we rolled by the donut shop at about the same time as our midday break. We stopped, I bought a donut, I ate it and I enjoyed it.


Mmmmmm...donuts.


Part two consisted of the long trek up Boreas Pass Road, which was also a part of the Firecracker race course. We hit a few sections of singletrack that went along side the road until we hit the Bakers Tank Trailhead. We took the BT to Bakers Tank and discovered that we could either go up on what appeared to be a trail, ride back down Boreas Pass Road, or turn around. We decided on the ‘trail’ that went up and a short while later, we decided to turn around as we saw no evidence that it was actually a mountain bike trail. We headed back on Bakers Tank until we hit the Iowa Mill. The trail at Iowa Mill either went straight up, or straight down. We could see that trail heading up lead to a jeep road that appeared to go to the top of Mt. Baldy. The natural choice was to go up.
I kept riding upwards until the road got so steep, that it was virtually unrideable without tipping over backwards on my bike. My HR monitor told me that I was suckin’ wind, and that I was at about 12,200 feet in elevation. It was creepy and pretty amazing, very desolate, no trees and had some spectacular views of the Breckenridge Ski Resort and the surrounding mountains. Andy was somewhere below me, so I figured that I’d better head back down before we found ourselves on different trails.


Some crazy lookin' mining ruins above the tree line.



A sweet view of Breck from above the tree line.



Flyin' down the mountain back into the trees. Glad that I didn't crash there.


We reconnected part of the way down and eventually reconnected onto the Firecracker race course on the appropriately named Pinball Alley Trail. A tight, twisty section of singletrack that threads its’ way through unforgiving pine trees. We eventually hit Sally Barber road and took the screamin’ fast descent down to a section of trail called the B-Line. Squirrel would call this place heaven. I’ve never seen a larger collection of elevated bridges, all over the place. They were all nicely crafted and looked like a lot of fun. Andy took the high road on some, whereas I took the low road and stuck to the dirt as I was still a little psyched out from my intimate moment with the dirt in Durango.
We reconnected with the last section of the Firecracker course that went down into Breck. We took the bike path north and hit a little ditty that went around Lake Dillon before we decided to call it a day. We were out for a total of around 8 hours and covered something like 40 miles of singletrack. I’d call that a great day in the office…

401

So I had a major decision to make last night. My Dad met up with Julie and I last week and we were able to stay in his RV / tour bus. This thing is huge, plenty of room for all three of us and his varmint. He skipped town today and Julie flew back to DSM last Saturday. So I had to choose between staying in Durango by myself, or maybe drive up to Silverthorne and hang with Andy. I didn’t really feel like hangin’ out by myself and I hadn’t seen Andy in quite a while. We were long overdue for a beat down ride, so I hooked up with him in Crested Butte with the goal of riding the legendary 401 trail.
I made it to CB shortly after 11 and Andy rolled up on his bike about five minutes after I got there. There were a lot of heavy looking clouds hanging around and as we pondered the weather a lightning bolt flashed near the top of Mt. Crested Butte. Shortly thereafter, were heard the sound of thunder echoing off of the surrounding mountains…pretty cool, unless you’re looking to get a ride in. We sat around and shot the shyte for about an hour and finally decided to drive up to the trailhead. We made it up to the trailhead, got out of our cars, looked up to the heavens and saw that God was smiling upon us with several patches of blue sky within the clouds.
We unloaded the bikes, suited up and made our way up to the upper trailhead at Schofield Pass. No sooner did we start our ride and Andy decided that he wanted to cross swords with me. I heard Phil Ligget say that during the TDF coverage when Lance was talking to another rider during the race. I thought it was funny and thought I’d give it a try on the Rassy Blog, however I don’t think it worked out as well. Anyway, he was warm, I was cold. He went forward and it seemed as though I was going backwards…punk kids. About halfway up to Schofield Pass, I finally felt as though I was ready for a little more effort and returned the favor by applying my own brand of heat.
We made it to the upper trailhead and continued our quest for mountain biking bliss. We still had to do quite a bit more climbing, however it was all on singletrack, so it was all good. When the trail pointed downward, the big smile on my face became even bigger as we rocketed down the trail. I can see why the 401 gets so much press. If you like fast, flowy, serpentine singletrack that threads its’ way through Aspen groves, high altitude meadows full of beautiful, handle bar high flowers complete with spectacular views from top to bottom, this trail has your name all over it. The only problem with the trail…the entire loop only took us 90 minutes…way too short!


This is what the big dawgs look like when they win a big UCI race. Yep, I'm a poser.



This is what the big dawgs look like when they don't win a big UCI race.

Durango – Day 5

Animas City Mountain.


Decided to hit the dirt today and rode up Junction Creek Road to the Colorado Trailhead. Put in some good efforts because it is mostly uphill all of the way to a part of the trail that the locals call ‘High Point’. My guess is that it is a popular turn around point for most, even though the Colorado continues all of way to Denver. I rode up to Hoffheins, took Hoffheins to Dry Fork, then back up to the Colorado. Took the Colorado up to Highpoint, took a breather, ate a Probar and decided to continue up the trail. I could tell that there had been a lot of rain as the foliage was such that it became difficult to see the trail. I was still smarting in some areas from my wipeout, so I decided to turn around and head back into town.
Once back in town, I decided to swing by the Animas City Mountain for a lap. One lap up and around Animas nets about 1,600 feet of climbing and some pretty amazing views of Durango to the south, and the Animas River valley to the north. I got yelled at by some old people dawdling along the trail near the top. I gave warning twice and even rolled up to them at a walking pace. They finally noticed me and I apparently scared the crap out of them. The lady told me that I needed to say ‘bike back’, or something along those lines. I said that I did…twice and then told her that she needed pull her head out of her arse and pay better attention to her surroundings. I could have been a mean, hungry, big ole’ black bear for cryin’ out loud…I really didn’t say that. Instead, I rode thru and politely told them that I did say something.


The Animas River Valley to the north.



D-Town to the south.



It's kinda like eating ice cream, I'm always happy when I am eating ice cream or riding singletrack.

Durango – Day 4

The road up to Lemon Reservoir.


I left from the campground and rode through Durango with the intent of doing a big loop that included stops by Lemon and Vallecito Reservoirs. Then I headed south to Bayfield. I took highway 160 back towards Durango, which I will never do again, too much traffic and little to no shoulder. I took 160 until I hit highway 172. I rode on that until I hit the Ute Indian Reservation, where I had planned to turn around and head back. I rode into the parking lot of some casino, ate a little food, drank a little water and had this huge urge to relieve myself…so I did. Hope nobody saw me watering the grass. I ended up with right at 100 miles for the day and around 5,000 feet of vertical. Another great day of riding in the books!


The road up to Vallecito Reservoir.



The road around Vallecito crosses over the Pine River. I saw some dude fly fishing up stream. I watched him pull a boot out of the river.

Durango – Day 3

Decided to do an easy ride with Julie today. We left D-town on our bikes and took 160 up to the Dry Fork trailhead. We took Dry Fork up to the Colorado Trail and then took the Colorado down into Durango for a nice three hour ride. The ride contained some of the sweetest singletrack that I’ve ever laid tracks on. Words cannot do it justice, so if you’d like a better description than what is here, you’re gonna have to come out and experience it yourself. I cannot believe how quickly Julie is picking up this whole mountain biking thing. She successfully rode through some very technical, uphill and downhill rock gardens that I wouldn’t have done if I’d only been riding for a year. She will most likely be taking on a more active role in my annual women’s mountain biking clinic this fall!


You can tell from Julie's smile that she loves buff singletrack just as much as I do.



This little varment wandered over to the cliff at Gudy's Rest while Julie and I were hanging out. I think he was scoping out the trail below (in background), he was probably trying to figure out what lines he was going to take once he got down there.



I think that's the cow that tried to hump Shim a few years ago.



Love the Aspen groves.

Durango – Day 2

Decided to let my body heal a little and hit the road for a hundy. I rode west to Mesa Verde, paid the $8 admission into the park and did another 16 or so miles until I hit the highest point on the road. I stopped for about 10, ate some Pop Tarts, enjoyed the view of the mesa’s off in the distance, then turned around for the ride home. The park was a nice break from the heavy traffic on highway 160, it kinda felt like I was in de-tox from all of the diesel fumes that I had inhaled on 160. I ended up with about 5 hours of ride time and just over 7,000 feet of net verticality on the day.


Mesa Verde is a pretty cool national park. I think the Pueblo Indians decided to split in search of new digs in the 1200's. Good ole' Teddy Roosevelt decided to establish the land as a national park in an effort to preserve what was left of the ruins.



There has to be some sweet singletrack down there somewhere...



This is where I ate my Pop Tarts.

Durango – Day 1 – Crash and Burn.

Sweet trail maps at almost every intersection.


Julie and I rode over to the Telegraph Trails. I wanted to get a good, hard workout in and because the Telegraph Trails have trail maps at almost every intersection, I figured that it would be a great place for Julie to ride on her own while I go out and beat myself to a pulp. I told her that if she needed to stop to take a load off, to make sure that she stopped in an open space and not to converse with any strange snakes, especially if they have a rattle.
So, I rode the Telegraph Trail to the top and started ripping it up down the descent on Crites Connect. I’ve ridden the trail probably 30 times before and was familiar enough with it that I felt comfortable letting it all hang out. As I was rounding a fast corner, I saw a very large rock sitting in the middle of the trail that I’d never seen before. As soon as I saw the rock, I knew that I was screwed. I tried to go around it, however my front tire clipped it enough that it sent me flying OTB. The next thing I know, I’m sliding down the trail head first on my back. I had a Camelback on and I remember waiting for it to burst from my body bouncing on and off of it while I was sliding down the trail. When I finally stopped, I kinda laid there and waited for the cloud of dust to settle. I moved my arms and legs, nothing seemed to be broken, so I got up, picked my bike up and gave it a once over. Everything seemed to be fine. From what I could tell, I only had a few small cuts on my legs and some scrapes on my elbows and shoulders. I dusted myself off and motored on.
About an hour into the ride, I noticed that my front wheel was a little out of whack, though it wasn’t enough to prevent me from continuing on. I rode for another hour or so and headed back to the car where Julie was waiting for me. I got off the bike and almost fell over. I didn’t really realize just how beat up I was.


If it wasn't for the Camelback, my back would look like raw hamburger...stop looking at my underwear.



Technical, rocky uphill.



Technical, rocky downhill.



The Anasazi Descent in the distance. If you crash there, it's not going to feel very good.



Durango goodness. It would suck to crash here too.


When I replay the incident in my head, I really can’t believe just how lucky I was. As fast as I was going, I should have broken something on my body. The bike actually came through it all pretty good too. A partially taco’d front wheel and a cracked stem. I had another wheelset with me and I found a stem at a local bike shop for $40. Two hours later she was as good as new!

Avon

I’ve been not so good with the daily posts, lot’s of stuff going on since we got here. We stayed at Julie’s brothers’ house in Avon until Tuesday. The day after the Firecracker, Julie and I rode to the farmers market in Vail. What a zoo! Elbow to elbow people, lot’s of food stands, trinket stands with the usual tourist junk. We grabbed a bite to eat at a restaurant away from all of the chaos of the market, then headed back to the ranch. Good ride, beautiful scenery and some good quality time with my female!


Sweet view from Steve's pad. He and his wife were kind enough to put us up and put up with us for a few days.


The next day Julie’s brother, Steve and I headed out for a couple of sweet mountain bike rides. We started off by doing part of a loop called the ‘A-10’ loop that threads its’ way through Beaver Creek. At some point we left the A-10 loop onto a trail that pointed skyward. Steve had mentioned that part of the trail had a lengthy hike-a-bike section. Whenever somebody mentions that, my enthusiasm perks up and I take it as a challenge. So we hit the bottom of the hike-a-bike and I took off determined to clean it. I made it about 20 feet before I began to quickly realize that riding up was not going to be an option. Hike-a-bike sections can kinda suck at times, however as Blood, Sweat and Tears used to sing, ‘What Goes Up, Must Come Down’! The descent was pretty sweet. I took the lead and continued downward and lost myself in mountain biking bliss.
A lot of the tread was pretty greasy, which made for some sketchy sections. Some parts of the trail were difficult to see with some of the vegetation covering parts of the trail. Whenever I encounter sections like this, I usually assume that the trail is clear and I just blow through it. While doing this, I sometimes think about how it would suck if there were to be a root or rock waiting to grab a hold of my front tire. As this thought was passing through the void between my ears, something reached out and grabbed my front tire. Next thing I know, I’m lying in the weeds. I took a look back up the trail and sure enough, there was a wet root, glistening in the sunlight tucked underneath some vegetation. No harm done thankfully, no lost skin, the bike was still intact. I picked myself up and continued on with the same level of reckless abandon. We finished the ride, loaded the bikes up and headed down the highway to Eagle for some more singletrack goodness. We did a 90 minute loop on trails that were very similar to the Telegraph Trails in Durango. The first half of the ride was all uphill. The second half of the ride was some of the best downhill trail that I’ve ever ridden. Very fast, swooping trails with a lot of opportunities to catch some good air.
Steve and Tina had scored four dukes to the Dallas Symphony Orchestra playing at the Vail Amphitheater. They were doing a tribute to the music of John Williams. They played the Star Wars theme song and it was very cool, kinda like being at the movie. There were a lot of older people there, yes, older than me and it smelled a lot like old lady perfume everywhere. Other than that, it was a pretty sweet show.
The next day, I dusted off the road bike and hit the road with the intention of riding to Frisco on what is mostly bike path. As I was rolling through Avon, I found myself following another cyclist on the road. We passed under I-70 and I saw a sign that said 36 miles to Leadville. I realized that I had missed my turn, however the road had a nice shoulder, so I continued on. Highway 24 to Leadville rolled over two mountain passes, Tennessee Pass and another, can’t remember the name. Leadville sits at a thin 10,400 feet, however the altitude didn’t really seem to bother me much. Once I hit Leadville, I stopped at a gas station, drank some water, ate some Fig Newtons and bs’d with another cyclist from Dallas. After about 10 minutes, I turned around and headed back. Sweet ride! After the ride, Julie and I loaded the Jeep up and hit the road for Durango.

Firecracker Five-O

Downtown Breckenridge before the start of the race...lot's of peeps hangin' out enjoying the vibe.


As I was finishing the Firecracker 50 last year, I told myself several times that I would not put myself through that again. However after a few days, I began to contemplate the idea for 2009. A couple of weeks ago I lost my mind and went ahead and pre-registered for the race again this year. Julie and I packed up the Jeep and hit the road for Co. bright and early Friday morning, to the tune of about 4am. We made it to her brothers house in Avon about 11 ½ hours later. We unloaded the bikes and went for a nice easy spin around the neighborhood to shake the cobwebs out of our legs.
The next morning we hit a sweet greasy spoon in Vail for some pancakes, ham, eggs, fried potatoes and some black gold. We made it to Breckenridge with 2 hours to spare. The skies were clear and it was looking to be another beautiful day in Colorado!
Last year I went out too hard and kinda blew my wad during the second lap. This year I was pretty determined not to do the same thing. The race started and there were about 40 cats in my age group. We rolled up the paved climb and as we approached the first section of singletrack, our group was down to eight. I’m pretty sure that I made the same bone headed mistake that I made last year by going out a little too hard. My HR spent a lot of time in the lower 170’s and as this was going on, I knew that I could never average that high of an HR over 50 miles, at over 9,500 feet no less. It’s one of those situations where, with all of the results that I’ve had, I’ve always been one of the top 40+ riders in the Midwest, so why not everywhere else? The problem with that theory is that mountain bike racing in Colorado is very different from the buttery smooth trails that we have in the Midwest, not to mention we flatlanders feel like we’re breathing through a coffee stir stick. When I finished the race last year, I felt like I had been run over by a very large truck. During the second lap of the race this year, I began to quickly recall that sensation.


The start of the crusty old man's race.


My second lap this year was around 13 minutes slower than last year…bone headed mistake confirmed. This year my last lap meltdown was worse than last year as my finishing time was about 3 minutes slower than last year. My only consolation for this year was that I never had to dismount, I rode everything. Last year I had to walk up the steeper portion of the Little French Gulch climb.


Coming down the mountain, suffering like an animal and so ready to be done. Not sure who the dude is in the foreground, kinda looks like q*bert.



Finally finished, I think at that point in time, I had no idea who or where I was.


I ended up finishing 7th in my age group, and judging by the finishing times, my age group was kinda stacked this year. I’m OK with the result for the most part, I am after all a flatlander from Iowa. And despite all of the pain and suffering, I did have a good time and I cannot rule out doing it again next year. The course boasts some of the sweetest singletrack that I have ever laid tracks on. I’m pretty sure that behind my pained expressions, there was a smile on my face…somewhere!
I was surprised at how many familiar faces that I ran into, Jeff Kerkove (no surprise), WORS regular Ryan Krayer, Ryan Feagan, Rox, Larry Kitner, another guy that I should know from Lincoln, I think I saw a dude in a MOB kit (Dave Krenz maybe?), there were probably a few others that slip my mind. I was still a little cross eyed for a while after the race. Julie also told me that I needed to score a free beer because racers got their beer in a free pint glass. I figured that I would get it and give it to her…that didn’t happen. As the beer guy handed over my beer, I saw Jeremiah Bishop drinking a beer. I was still feeling a little weak from the days effort and I rationalized that if he could drink a beer and be a top level pro, why not me? I drank it, it was really good and it gave me a nice, mellow buzz. The kind where you’re still sober, but it has a knack for hindering some of your mental faculties. Mine just happened to be my memory.

The plan for tomorrow is a nice easy ride to the farmers market in Vail with Julie. Should be a pretty sweet ride because any ride in Colorado is a sweet ride, even if you get caught in the rain!

Thanks for reading,

CK

MNSCS - Mt. Kato

Photos courtey of Dana Schoppe and Jay Richards



After crashing out of the WORS race last weekend, I was looking for a little redemption this weekend. I’ve been racing my mountain bike for around 11 years now and after all of that time, an experience like I had last weekend still seemed to have a small effect on my psyche. I drove up to Mankato the day before the race to get a good recon ride in and when I arrived at the venue, I noticed a few people that had just finished riding. I couldn’t help but notice some mud packed on their tires, one guy even said that the ride went a lot worse for him than he had expected. I took a look around and noticed mostly dry pavement, with the exception of where some water was running off of the roof of the lodge. Apparently it had just rained earlier that morning and there were a few sections of trail that were still pretty slimy. I thought about scrapping the ride and hitting the paved bike path for a ride instead. However that thought was short lived as I drove up here today to ride on the dirt, even if it meant riding through some mud. The trail ended up being mostly damp with a few greasy spots. After the ride I knew the course would dry quickly enough that conditions would be close to ideal for tomorrows’ race.


Flesh eating roots.



Mt. Kato singletrack goodness.



Ridin' this stuff will put a smile on anybody's face.


On race day, I arrived with plenty of time to take my time getting ready and also get a good warm up in. We lined up for the start with all of the usual suspects for a MNSCS race, with 10 Pros and around 40 Cat 1’s ready to do some ragin’. Again, I was determined to get a better than usual start ended up in the second row behind Brendan Moore. He’s got the hole shot thing dialed in and if you’re stuck in the 2nd row, it’s a good wheel to follow. I got off to a pretty good start and as we started up the hill, I was somewhere in the top ten.


BS'n with Minnesota top dog Brendan Moore. I can't beat him on the bike, so I tried engaging in psycological warfare to get an edge. It didn't work.



Sweet atmosphere at the start of the Pro / Cat 1 race.



50+ Pro / Cat 1 racers gettin' all kinds of crazy at the start.



The Pro / Cat 1 death march snaking its' way up the hill.



Eventual men's race winner Jason Sager.


As we hit the top of the climb I ended up going into the woods in around 7th, behind a train of three riders. I settled in with the hope of getting myself a little recovery time from the massive effort from the start. After a short while, I felt recovered enough to begin my quest closer to the sharp end of the field. I worked my way past the three cats that were directly in front of me and as I was progressing, I caught an occasional glimpse of Jesse Reints up the trail. I put my head down and turned the screws as tightly as I could without blowing myself up. It took the better part of two laps to finally reel Jesse in and throughout the effort, I could see a couple of others a short distance behind me. Just the way I like it, close racing in front of and behind me!


Fellow Iowegion Shockstar had a stellar race finishing 17th overall.


As we were negotiating our way through a section of trail called The Maze, I asked Jesse if we were sitting 2 / 3. He said that we were 3 /4, so I asked who was in front of us. He said the Brendan was in 2nd and Sager was leading…. Sager! What the H is he doing here! Jesse apologized and said that he brought him. For those that don’t know, Jason Sager is a regular at all of the National Series races and has been known to post some pretty stout results. That’s one of the fun things about MNSCS and WORS races, you never know who’s going to show up.
My intention was to stay on Jesse’s wheel long enough to recover from the monster effort that it took to reel him in, however after a lap of following his wheel, my tongue was still hangin’ out of my mouth and my heart was still trying to jump out of my throat. At this point, the lapped traffic from the Comp field was pretty thick and I had to really bury myself at times to stay on Jesse’s wheel when passing through the lappers. For whatever reason, it was a little more difficult than normal to get through some of the lapped traffic. It was probably just more bad timing than usual with hitting traffic during some of the tighter sections of trail. However I’m not 100% on that theory as I wasn’t seeing very clearly at the time.


Chillin' in the shade.



Jesse is brandishing his manly chest. He forgot to wear his VW hubcap necklace.


About midway through the last lap, we were going up a pretty steep climb and Jesse began to inch away from me. I tried to close it back up and my legs wanted none of it. I backed it off a little until I hit the top of the climb and took a few seconds to recover. I hit the throttle again once the trail flattened out. By then Jesse was out of sight for the most part. I pretty much buried myself in an attempt to bring him back and also keep Sam O from reeling me in. On some sections of the course, I could tell that he wasn’t far behind me. I kept the pressure on until the end and came up about 6 seconds short of bringing Jesse back.
I ended up 4th on the day 6 seconds behind Jesse. Sager won and had just over 4 minutes on me at the finish. Brendan’s 3 race win streak came to an end and ended up in 2nd. My goal for the day was to equal or better last years 2nd place finish, however I still consider today a big success. Any time that I can bag a top 5 finish in a MNSCS or WORS race, well I have to be happy with that. I had a great time duking it out with Jesse, he rode a great race and he deserved a good finish. I remember back when I first started racing in the expert class in WORS and MNSCS races, he was always a regular in the top ten. So it’s great to see him finally find his form again. This result was also the shot in the arm that I needed after last weekends debacle, so even though I probably never lost track, I definitely feel like I’m back on track.

Next up is my annual 2 week training camp in good ole’ Colorado. Julie and I will be heading to Breckenridge for the marathon National Championships on the 4th. We’ll spend a couple of days at her brothers place in Vail, and then off to Durango for the remainder. I’ll probably head up to Sol Vista for the cross country nationals, however I doubt that I’ll race because I’ll be pretty cooked after a couple of 30 hour training weeks. I’ll try to do daily posts while I’m out there, so if you’re interested, stay tuned!

Thanks for reading,

CK