Gooney Riders

Read between the lines

Topo lines on a map rarely lie.  Or, I guess a better way to put it, my interpretation of topo lines is rarely too far off.  The big exception being Condo Stash behind the condo.   Lines say 30 degrees and potentially avy terrain, reality says a dang good time when the avy rose is red.  Looking at the topo lines of the 'Wheeler Loop' of the Breck 100, I knew I was in for a bit of hiking with my bike in tow.

I rarely poach races.  If you don't count latching onto the back of the Men's B ST race on Wednesdays, I never poach races.  But when Sonya pointed out that Thursday's stage of the Breck Epic covered most of the first loop of the Breck 100, I was sold.  Trail markers were the main selling point, I've spent too much time at trail intersections in the past couple of weeks trying to interpert directions.

So we rolled out with the 140 racers who'd been at it since Sunday.  At first I felt for them and their fatigue, but then realized that I'd much rather have been racing my bike many hours a day instead of sitting at work, so I no longer felt bad for them.

Sure enough, the topo lines didn't lie and we spent well over an hour pushing our bikes up to 12,000+ feet.  It was so dang pretty out, I didn't even care.



And then we got to go down.  Which in the end, is the only reason I can ever motivate myself to go up.  I couldn't have built the down trail any better myself...the first time since getting hydraulic brakes that I needed two fingers to slow myself down...and I was still going too fast.  I'm going to make sure RC and Chris get out on this one on their big bikes before the summer is up.

Sometimes I wish I had a big bike...I'd totally push it back up there for the sake of riding down.

Post work playing

Chris and I get really excited when we figure out a way to link up a 2000+ foot descent in Winter Park.  Jj has it in her background.  I was lucky enough to go play with her.  I pretty much invited myself over for the night with a bottle of wine in tow.  There is something to be said for living in Evergreen...

Straight out of the backyard and up.  And up.  And up some more.  Switchback after switchback after switchback. 
 
At the top, we got to look at where we came from.  It was a long way down.

And wicked fun.  And back at the house, Ed made us steaks.  Never in my life have I had a steak so good.  Jj made qunioa bean salad.  And freshly whipped cream with strawberries for dessert.  I should invite myself over more often.

I feel like every time I go out and ride with Jj, I have to up my technical game.  If someday I can clear half the stuff wonder woman can ride, I'll consider myself a good bike rider.  I'm already plotting my next rematch with that trail.  But I think now it's my turn to show off our trails and hopefully get RC to cook so we don't have to show off our cooking skills.

Happy 4th

Mike and I went for an alpine jaunt while Eszter was racing the firecracker 50.  We were staying with my cousin on Boreas Pass road, so we decided to ride from his house over to French Gulch, up French Pass (12000 some odd feet), singletrack descent, up over Georgia Pass(11 something?) and down Colorado trail back to Breckenridge.  

Preparing for the descent-

Mike decided on going for a first descent, on his bike.

The trail was a bit gamey, but we managed to keep the speed up-

mikey-

we raced back over Georgia and down the Colorado trail to make it back to town for Eszter's finish.  She looked a bit blown but soon later had a pint of beer and a plate of meat that was bigger than her-

Back at the cousins house after a 1000 ft climb back up from town, I am pretty sure Eszter is getting whooped by Isaac in 'Sorry.'

The next day we road sngltrack out of my cousin's back yard all the way to Como.  Eszter then had to drag my sorry ass back up over Boreas Pass in a rain/hail storm.  

Thanks Eszter Mike for some of the best riding ever this weekend and motivating my blown-out self up to the top of the hills(It's always fine once you've got gravity on your side!)

Thanks for Lindsey and John for letting us Loiter at your house.

-chris

Out of the Skillet

Feeling a little stressed and exhausted.  Time for a bit of therapy. 

Did a short loop I call "Liquor Store Singletrack."  It is a new network I found whilst on my way to acquire some cheep American beer.  Some nice moisture, and wild flowers.

sticky

new sneak with a committing grade

Happy 4th.

-chris

Weekend Photos

French Gulch

Eszter from her race-

Jenny-

Ed-

awe so cute...

una mas-

Spent Saturday in Winter Park matting pictures, watching a bike race and pushing my bike up a new found trail right out the back door of the condo.
Sunday pre-ride Eszter's firecracker course with Jenny and Ed. 
maybe someday I'll have trails in my backyard instead of US36:)
cheers,
chris

Riding with Idols

As a bike racer, there were always girls I would look up to, admire, idolize, if you will.  Using past-tense is maybe the wrong tense to use, I still look up to them.  So when post-WP-suffer-fest, I got a chance to ride with one of these gals, not just ride but to descend one of the most fun trails on the mountain, it made my day.  

Then BC convinced me to climb back up again so that we could take trails back to the condo.  So worth it.  It always is.

I tried to convince Chris to take the day off the bike.  Something about rest and recovery.  So he pedaled up and took pictures on WTB.  I think he's starting to figure out the fast biker/low forest light pictures.

British Chris flying.

Miiiii-gel, the sole other WaltWorks representative.

Greg during his first cross country race ever.  Apparently the last third treated him pretty rough.

Yours truly, sometime before I went careening off the trail while trying to go too fast down wet roots.

Good fun, good fun.  And the best part, the weekend is only half over.  More bikes tomorrow.

A 'mellow' ride

When it comes to riding the 1.5 trails in Boulder County, I have a love/hate relationship with bad weather.  Bad weather keeps the crowds away.  Bad weather can very quickly ruin a perfectly good ride.  But the threat of bad weather is the best...the universe smiled upon us this time around.

Jj came up to B-town for a quickie of a ride before PhD's slide show.  We opted for Walker under stormy skies, hoping, praying, that the weather would hold.  Jj claimed 'out of shape' and asked for a mellow ride.  I, being one of the more lazy people in the sport of bike riding, happily agreed.  I spent the entire ride glued to her wheel, gasping for air.  Mellow ride, right.  Watching her float over sections of trail that I wouldn't even consider riding made me want to come down to Evergreen even more and play on her backyard trails.

Then I discovered that if I used the excuse of taking pictures, I could get her to slow down enough that I could breathe.  Good trick. :)

The weather held.  And during trail rush hour on a Thursday afternoon, we saw a grand total of 3 people.  I've seen more people than that mid-day on a normal workday.   

It was glorious.

Sneak Peak

Sneak Peak at show tonight at Neptunes.  Fish made the tunes.

Trailer for Neptune Show from chris miller on Vimeo.

-chris

Be thankful

If you're a squirrel, be thankful for the windowpane.

If you're lucky enough, be thankful that this isn't your commute.  I have to do it once a week for a month.  People do this everyday.

Be thankful that even if it's 90 degrees out, it's nowhere near as hot as the yoga studio your mom dragged you into.  Yes, I was one of those.  I rode my bike with a yoga mat sticking out of my backpack.  And it was good.  I think.

Semi-Solo Mission

I generally try not to go mountain biking alone.  I have this semi-irrational fear of crashing, breaking my leg, and getting eaten by a mountain lion before anyone can come and find me.  But, on Sunday morning, when the boys suited up in full body armor, full-face helmets, and full-squish bikes, ready to go ride the lift all day, I figured I'd take my chances with the mountain lions.

I reasoned that if I stayed on the mapped trails of the Winter Park valley instead of our normal convoluted route of social trails, I'd have a better chance of getting rescued as I lay bleeding on the ground.   Instead, I ended up getting lost.  A sense of direction is not one of my selling points.  I also saw a whopping one other person for the entire morning, but on the plus side, he was willing to ride, and get lost (at least a little bit), with me.  

And he thought I knew where next weeks race course actually went...funny.

Met up with the boys for lunch.  They were grinning ear to ear, talking about clearing table tops and slaying berms.  Boys are funny that way.  We ate RedCoat's peanut butter and cheese (no, I don't understand it either) sandwiches and watched with some amusment as beginners tried to get down the resort trails.  I feel for them, we've all been there.

We agreed to ride together in the afternoon.  They rode the lift up, slayed berms down, and rode the lift back up while I painfully relived about the first 1480 feet of last weeks hill climb.  Then we raced down the hill together.  They dropped me, but I'm okay with that, I'd feel invincible with a full-face helmet too.  It was still the most anaerobic I'd been all day, even without idiot insurance.

Chris wins the style points contest.  He rode in his BCA button-down shirt dutifully tucked into the pair of thrift-store pants that he wore to both Liam's and Bama's weddings last summer.  Classy.  RedCoat could only pull off the oversized hoodie and free prototype shorts from Domino.  Weak sauce.

And now Monday.  Normally a day to lament that the weekend is over, but today, a good chance to sit on my rear and let the body recover from the weekends festivities.