The Brown Feathered Cannibal

I must have been six years old. I remember, every morning, peeking out the window, looking up at the adobe attic vent and there he was, every day.

I remember, meeting with him and his friend. He was covered in a white glowing coat. He sung me a song that night and told me many things. About life, about death, about history. He also told me about Kain and that he would be a dark haired big and healthy boy.

I remember seeing him at my college graduation on the way there. Seeing him in the middle of the day, sitting on a tree, on the side of the road.

I remember one evening, my friend showed up with a sacred package. Inside was his cousin. He had been hit by a car. I did the honorable thing and gave him a blessing, clipped his winds and saved the feathers, cleaning each one and everyone by hand. I buried him for 90 days and went back and got his skull, it was a fair and meaningful exchange.

When Kailan was born, the doctor said a small flap in his heart had not closed. I spent many a night praying very hard, that he would be OK. They called it a heart murmur and said it was a pretty natural occurrence, but he had to stay in the hospital a couple of days and had to have a couple of x rays of his chest and follow ups to make sure that his little heart closed up. The first night we made it home, I had a visit outside my window and heard him giving my son and myself a heartfelt welcome.

On night rides, sometimes, I would come across two or three, running the trail with me. On solo rides at Snow hill I would hear him singing me songs in the distance.

Not too long ago, It was about Eleven in the morning. The blue jay's were screaming and I could tell they were mad about something. And sure enough, there he was, chomping on a fellow blue jay that he had somehow snatched up. And although they complained, they could do nothing but watch as he consumed their former family member. Eventually, they left. And then it was just him and I. I walked up, and took a picture, and as he stared deep in my eyes, I stared deep in his. I thanked him and walked away.

We all have a Guardian. Some are not lucky enough to ever see him or ever meet him. Me, I see him all the time. And he just happens to be a Cannibal.

Flashback: November 3, 2007 The Final Countdown: The last days of Razorback.

Note: Its important while reading this that you have this tune in your head.


Razorback. The Best Trail in Florida. And its no news to anyone now that its gone. Denial was a way to describe the way I felt and still do. I don't want to believe that its closed.

Razorback. My last ride, was a battle to conquer sections of the trail I never conquered. I did a dusk ride and a night ride and I kicked the place's ass. The only climb I didn't make and will apparently never have the chance to make is clay climb.

Everything else I cleaned at a cosmic level it seemed as my spirit was determined unconsciously pouring all my effort into cleaning the trail. All my good fortune did not go unpaid as I crashed after a sick nose wheelie in the last pit before the last climb. It was a scary crash, but thankfully, I came away unscathed as did my bike.

Razorback was a place that I had much pride in being able to ride well. It was the first place I got my first top five finish. It was the only trail that one day would make me feel like a hero and others would make me feel like a zero. The first place I ever raced the yellow wave. The first and only place in Florida I raced a 12 hour at. It was a trail I truly loved from deep inside.

Razorback, the loss of it, is a blow to the Florida MTB community. And although we will always search for a replacement, I don't think we will find it.

I camped there too many times to count. Luckily I had a chance to participate in the last goneriding event that was held there.

That night as we all drank well past our fill. And as we all witnessed the tomfoolery that was afoot and the fireworks and the good times. I appreciated every turn and granule of dirt and stone that made up my final ride. I marveled at the corners and pummeled the climbs, realizing that it was all too soon going to be a thing of the past.

Here is to you Razorback, may your path to the other side be one of complete benefit. May your path to the otherside, be one where you see your family members and spend time enjoying the proverbial happy hunting grounds that await.

AHON!

Flashback: October 26th, 27th and 28th Pisgah National Forests

I wonder along from one cycling adventure to the next. Wonder along from one self created goal to the next. This is what I choose to do with my cycling. My warrior spirit runs deep synonymous with my adventurous spirit which takes me from challenge to challenge.

Well, earlier this year, reading Bike Magazine, I stumbled over a small sidebar article about the Great Divide Race. Well, I seemed to have remember reading about it the previous year and remembering about it catching my attention. Mainly the part about no entry fee.

Then I remembered back even further, early in my cycling career reading about John Stamstad and how he had done the ride, etc.

Well, while looking at Namrita O's blog, I read a note about the race starting soon, I don't exactly remember what it said.

But I stumbled across the site, and read, and read, and was hooked for days. And since then I have continued to investigate and ultimately I have the desire to do the Great Divide Race. I set a self goal of 2010. But, it may not be realistic. We will have to see what happens.

Fast Forward about a week to October 17Th where I received an message from Luis, fellow MTB'r and adventurer, asking if I was interested in heading towards Pisgah for the weekend of the 27Th.

Now I had planned to go do my first 12 hour race at pine log that weekend. But, since I had broken my finger, and the thought of riding in the mountains vs. riding laps on a flat trail, had me really leaning towards Pisgah. In the end it was a no brainer and I told Luis that I was all in.

It was a Renegade Run. Meet at his place around 9pm on Thursday, drive all night, a straight ten hours to Pisgah. Find a campsite by the luck of the Irish, set up camp, rest, and ride in the afternoon/evening.

Short Ride Friday, Epic on Saturday and a short ride Sunday Morning.

Now the creator works in mysterious ways. Riding in those mountains takes some serious climbing and some serious navigating. Not only that, but depending on your route, it takes some back country riding skills as well. All skills I need to start developing if I ever desire to undertake the GDR.

Well, Luis is apparently well versed in all these skills and it turned out to be a very productive and educational weekend for me.

Turns out, Luis' Birthday is the 23rd and mines is the 24Th. So this was turning into a birthday celebration getaway for each of us. The drive to his house was smooth and the drive up to Pisgah was smooth as well. With the exception of me being unable to keep awake for the entire ride and feeling a Lil guilty that I was not an acceptable co pilot, the ride went perfect.

We were going to stay at Mills River, but turns out, just for the heck of it, he wanted to check out if Davidson River would have any available spots. Luis shared with me a tale of him arriving to that park at 5am only to find a line halfway around the base of the mountain. He says Lima, His wife, didn't get them a spot till 12 hours later.

I told Luis I felt good about getting a site, and sure enough we pull up and there were plenty of sites available. Despite a Lil mix up at the beginning we ended up in a pristine spot. The campgrounds were super nice and I would definitely stay there again.

We set up tents, and got some sleep. Woke up and went shopping, came back, got ready and rolled out.

Now, to me, this was all new, but after some searching and some speaking, this is actually a very familiar destination to alot of people. I guess, in many ways, I'm still a virgin MTBr. We started with a long fire road climb behind the horse stables up Black Mountain. I don't know exactly how long the ride up the road was. But I do know that from the camp site to the fork near the top ended up being seven miles. Now, we started Hiking. Which is not a Florida rider tradition, but from what I later learned, a common practice amongst Pisgah locals. And we hiked and Hiked till we reached the top. The view was spectacular but dark was approaching. Now Luis tells me, "O yea, that's it from hear on out, its downhill,". Well the downhill lasted about 10 seconds before we made the turn and hit the steepest section of hike a bike that we had encountered all afternoon.

We stopped, put on our lights, and kept going. Eventually we started downhilling. My finger at the time, was still in its process of healing as it is now. But it was much more tender at the time. And although I had 100% grip on my left hand, my right hand was only about 60%. Usually, I'm a unstoppable downhill assassin. But, before I departed, my mother, gave me the most Ides of march warning I have ever heard from her to be careful. And it kinda stuck with me the entire weekend. Not only was I a Lil crippled, but I was now being extra careful on every descent. So, poor Luis, was not only having to wait on the uphills, but on the downhills as well.

We eventually made it back to camp with 13 or so miles under our belt thus completing our day one adventure.

Day one rounded off with a campsite cooking extravaganza workshop. Luis, utilizing his small portable burner and fluid, made the best Angel Hair pasta spicy marinara mushroom sauce combo I have ever had. It was tasty and although we both ate till we were full, there was still left overs. Not long after we both went to bed and I got terrific rest, whereas Luis, spent the night cold.

The next day we got up and got ready early. Ate breakfast which consisted of a couple of cheese sandwiches for me and prepared our packs for the epic. Now I got my Epic pack done up pretty good, I can carry on my person and my bike 3 water bottles and a 100 oz camelbak. On my bike in the fanny pack:
2 tubes
4 inches of chain
2 powerlinks
4 CO2 cartridges
1 Multitool

In my camelbak:
1 Roll Of electrical tape
1 Lighter
1 LED Headlight
1 Long Sleeve Rain Jacket
1 Full Polar Water bottle
3 Granola Bars
2 Gels
1 Cell Phone
1 wannabe Leatherman tool

What I need to get for the future is a map and a water filter.

Regardless, I was ready for anything and anxious to get the days adventure started. We roll out and start with the same climb we did the day before up Black Mountain. The plan, was instead of forking right at that spot we would go left pass the infamous Gingerbread house and along the ridge to a route that Luis had been plotting.

Well, I made it up the climb way quicker on this day then the previous day. We paused momentarily and continued happily on our way. The day went great. We got lost climbed and descended many, many miles. And the Vistas were spectacular. My climbing legs had really come in. Sometimes we would climb together, others he would ride away. Same with the downhills. There were some downhills you could really cut the bike loose, but since I was concerned with crashing, on the technical downhills I really took caution and care to not harm myself. It was a real bummer not to be able to unleash an assault on the downhills like I usually do, but regardless, the mission was to make it one piece. I had two forced dismounts, but no serious crashes. One was on the ridiculous boulder filled descent on Bennett Gap, where I started to feel the bike going into an Endo and chose to push away the bike and bail then trying to ride it out. On that particular crash I panicked gripped with my right hand so hard, that I actually bent the splint I was wearing on my broken finger. On the dismount the back of my testicles got rubbed by the back of my seat which caused quite a bit of pain, but I survived.

Some of the spots we came down, I would lose my Momentum and be forced to walk. But it was all good. Close to mile 34 or so, I ran out of food, and I was low on sugar. If I had a coke or something I could of mustered more motivation. But Luis could see on my face my motivation loss and we made our way back to camp. That completed our ride for day 2 and it was another fantastic epic ride in the mountains.

We had Burrito's for dinner, fire at the camp and plenty of beers. The night ended shortly after before the fire started dying down. We had some good campfire laughs and conversations and shortly crawled our ways into our tents and spent a really cold night. I Had to completely submerge my head inside the bag to stay warm since my bag was only rated to 40 degrees. Luis, was even worst off then I was and said he barely slept cause of the cold.

The next day we wanted to ride, but we both decided to just pack up and roll out. We packed up drove another smooth 10 hours back to Tampa. I packed up my car and drove home. Thankful and grateful for the great trip and weekend I had out in Pisgah forest. I have some more plans for that place. I'm plotting a little overnight 100 mile trip across the mountain and maybe even a race or two out there. We will have to see.

Check out Luis pictures.

Till Next time,

Laters....

Flashback: July 14th 2007 Orlando's First Alleycat Race.

One day while browsing the web I came across an event posting on the Retro city cycles web site for an Alleycat race in Orlando, properly entitled the Rat Race. A month or weeks before I had heard of one going down in Tampa and I was going to prep my Monocog and go, but frankly the thought of riding a 26inch wheeled bike again didn't have much appeal to me. So when push came to shove, I never showed up, nor made the effort to attend.

The Orlando one was different. It clearly said, All Bikes Welcome. Now that appealed to me. In my mind, I pictured a big festival type atmosphere close to the start location in downtown Orlando with bands, beer and Vegan BarbQ. Well it turned out to be a Lil different in the end, but I didn't know that at the time.

Underground was a label that I thought only existed for certain Genre's of music or Skateboarding and BMX. What I didn't know about was the existence of a deep rooted fixed gear Underground cycling scene. The Vibe: Punk Rock, with an appreciation of the origins of cycling and the future of cycling. In fact, I would almost call some of what I witnessed performance art.

Regardless, the morning was stormy. The afternoon even stormier. DanO owner of Retro City Cycles said to be there early to make sure to get a spot in the race. Well, I got there at three, had to trudge thru rain with my lovely wife to get there, and made it into the race. My number was 51. The guy handed me a map, the same map everyone else got, to meet at the Cemetery I believe, by 4pm.

Well I run and get my car, and pull it closer to where we were waiting and start getting ready. I saw a couple of people I knew. Dan O of course and his wife. His Friends. John Moorehouse. And my old team mate from Bikeworks Ben Foreshee. Yea, you know, I heard mumblings about what the race was like and I was busy formulating my strategy cause, I'm a racer at heart, Doesn't matter if its a footrace, bike race, canoe race or car race. My strategy was simple, follow. Pick someone and follow cause I don't know downtown and I didn't know if I would be able to read my map in a pinch.

Well, I read the map and rode to the start and got lost. Very lost. Asked at a convenience store for directions and rode some more. Finally got a mail man who pointed me in the right direction and I hammered at 20 plus mph to the location and I made it, just in time. About ten minutes after I got there, the race promoter showed up. Same guy that took our money asked if anybody didn't want their spoke card. Apparently, we were now exceeding the 100 rider mark. OK, no biggie.

He asked us to place our bikes in the grass and walk about 100 yards away from them. We did and where explained the rules. Maps would be given. The same maps for everyone. Make it to that spot, anyway you can, by any route you choose, and then get the next map. Follow the rules of the road, not important. If you get pulled over by the cops, O freaking well. If you see a man down, help your fellow rider. On his mark Run to your bikes and go to the first location. Frankly, I didn't even look at the map. I folded it and put it under my left hand glove and got ready for the run.

He gave us a Go Mutha Fu**as and off we went. I had only done one Le man's style start and it was at the 12 hours of Razorback and I ran slow, like paced myself, and I screwed myself for it. Well, I decided to haul ass and run like I had stolen something. And it worked. In typical Le Man's style fashion I watched as several people tumbled and fell. I grabbed my bike and watched many people just hauling ass, but one person caught my eye. John Moorehouse, with some fixie guy in tow, and me following taking the off road route. I was on my bike of choice for any scenario, my Salsa Mamasita, aka the bitch, aka the beauty. So, part of my strategy was to jump the curbs, take the stairs, cut through lots, use my off road skills.

John cuts through the park, the fixie dude hangs a left at the apartment complex and I follow John to the back where I see him straight send a 3 foot grass drop to a small decline. Well before I could ponder if I wanted to do it or not, off I went letting my 29 inch wheels guide me safely down the drop and the decline.

Shortly thereafter, we approach an underpass, where there are people riding down the road, on all sides and we join the pack. As quick as I join, I notice the check point is right there and the maps where being handed out. I grab a map and keep it moving to the next stop. The pack seemed to be heading straight down magnolia and I followed and chose to take a cut across a lot, down a small grassy downhill into state road 50 down a road, I hung a right and saw the pack on Magnolia, but to my left I notice I had somehow, by luck, stumbled on checkpoint 2.

Checkpoint 2 was tricky. You had to either shot gun a beer, take a shot of whiskey or wine, or if your straight edge, a shot of maple syrup. Being a true to the bone MTB'r I chose the beer, turned to leave, witnessed a fixed gear tangle crash and started to follow another group down a road and around the Bend.

The road was wide open and I was in full attack mode trying to chase down a group of riders in front of me. I eventually merged onto a road, where I almost crashed into the back of a car, did a sweet little slide and went right into checkpoint three. Now the distance between this checkpoint and the next was a Lil longer then the first three. But when I got to this one I got hit with baby powder.

No problem, the next checkpoints where all a blur. Somewhere between checkpoint 8 and 9 I was following a fixed gear rider thru a Lil park across a pond over a board walk. Now major props to fixie dude, cause he picked his way over the wet wood clean. As for me, I hit the wood and slid out. It all happened real fast, but my reflexes have the incredible skill of breaking down a crash into slow motion, and I quickly noticed that my head was heading towards the guard rail. Now I'm thinking, if I hit my head just right, I could potentially break my neck. So I ducked my head and let go of the bars and wrapped my arms around my head, Ala Tornado under the desk style. My forearm and knee took most of the impact. But I came away OK. Got up, walked off the board walk to the road, looked left and saw the next checkpoint.

I grabbed my map and kept rolling. The distances between the last couple of checkpoints where the farthest of them all, but I always had the good fortune of following the right person. Even though I would see groups head off in completely different directions I somehow always made the right pick.

Before I even knew It, I was at the end. The chaos was done. It had been a full out sprint for the duration. I had seen people crash and people get ticketed by the police, but I finished with a handful of people, my guess is somewhere between 10Th and 13Th. That's about how many people were there before me.

Turns out the location I was at was where the after party was to be held. In retrospect I wish I would of asked cause then my poor wife could of waited for me there. It took forever for her and I to meet up and by the time we did meet up, I was tired of waiting and so was she so we rolled out.

The race was a blast and I'm looking forward to the next one. My Garmin Forerunner's off/on button broke in the crash and in the end, was a total lost. A little bruised but none the worst I did great in my first alleycat.

There is another alleycat scheduled for in December. If your in the area, and you dare, I strictly recommend it. I was going to make my Raleigh 29 into an alleycat machine, but since all bikes are welcome, I choose to ride my Mamasita. Why not, its the Swiss army knives of bikes.

Till next time....
Laters...

Holloween 2007!

I raced home after finishing my work related duties scooped up my eldest son Kain from school and headed straight to Wal Mart to pick up some last minute Halloween supplies.

The list was simple, Glow sticks and hopefully some ugly mask. Well I scored the glow sticks, but no ugly mask to wear for me.

Got home and prepared the fleet for the evening rounds of trick or treating. Costumes and glow stick laced wheels, plus free candy is an unbeatable combination. Paloma, my wife, was riding the Fetish, Kain the Monocog, Gabriel his 16inch Giant, Kailan his BMX Diamond Back and daddy on the Mamasita.

Kailan was dressed as a vampire.
Gabriel was Optimus Prime.
Paloma, a commuting cyclist.
Me, Modern day Geronimo.
Kain, a punky teenager.

Two glow sticks on each wheel and glow string necklaces for the boys for added visibility. The plan was to park the bikes at a central location where they could hit two or three houses for trick or treating. Well, the plan worked great and we were the talk of the neighborhood as our glow stick laden wheels lit up the night.

We hit as many houses as we could until the boys were complaining that their pumpkin tricking and treating baskets were too heavy.

Paloma had suggested we pedal 1 mile up to the pizza shop and enjoy some fine Italian Dining. The food was great and the laughs were a plenty. We mounted up to ride home and were greeted by a nice late Halloween rain shower.

It was fun and exciting to ride as a family thru the rain. It was an excellent evening and a great experience. I spent the entire time just appreciating the wonderful blessings I have in being able to enjoy such wonderful experiences with my family together on bicycles.

Hope everyone enjoyed their holiday as much as I did.

till next time,

Laters....