The GhOstHunTinG GeoCaChiNg BikEPackInG TouR

NOTE FROM ME:
Sorry for the lack of post lately. AS always, I been SUPER busy, but I also wanted to let the fund raising post sit up there for awhile, still taking donations by the way and trying to come up with more ways to raise much needed tour divide funds.

The Last time the Dragons and I rode the ST Francis to Paisley wagon trail pain cave connector, EdWARd suggested that we do a bikepacking trip to the Ghost town of St Francis.

I thought it was a great idea and the original plan had been to leave Friday night and do a little 2.5 day trip.

Well, lord knows that I am an PROFESSIONAL ENDURANCE cable guy and I got stuck at work till Mid night that night and It just didn't pan out to go leave after the hellacious day I had.

So the plan evolved and we rolled out from my house midday on the morning of the impending SUPERMOON!

I had been scouting a new and even dirtier connector over to the Enterprise Railroad bed that makes up part of the Naked Indian Route. The plan was to take the Naked Indian Route over to Lake Beresford, hop off and then get over to De land and St. Francis. On the way we could stop and swim.

Simple enough.

BUT, I didn't really think this was a trip that warranted a two rope so I left it at home. Not really expecting to need it or use it. As we did a little fence hopping and got onto the old rail bed, not even 4 miles into the ride, LIL'r NI was already tired.

Ya, I admit, I lamented how long of a day this was going to be. No tow rope meant plenty of waiting and prodding and break taking, but we kept going.

Along the NK route we went and before we knew it, we were making our way along some big climbs in the back woods of Debary, when I spot a Yard Sale sign and tell the dragons to wait at the top of this hill while I ride to it and see if I can buy a rope. I had to do something, I mean we have all day, but we don't have all day... LOL

I come back to find LIL'r NI sitting in the shade, resting and scold him for taking his helmet off so often. I was a little embarrassed with myself how emotional I had been. The past few weeks had been hard at work, and frustrating off the bike. The day I rode 90 miles doing Journalism coverage for the Huracan I somehow aggravated an ingrown hair in my nether regions that turned into a cyst requiring a week of antibiotics and not needed vacation off the bike. All the self imposed and work related stress had worn through my normally patient demeanor and like I said, I was a little embarrassed at how emotional I was being.

BUT, I told the boys, I had no luck in finding said Yard sale and not to worry, The Lord will provide, lets keep moving.

EdWARd had recently dropped 20 or so pounds and has been riding his properly working Green Beast regularly and thus it showed on the ride as he was keeping up with my patient dragon training pace.

But LIL'r NI was way back there, and as we got close to leaving that gravel road backwoods section I spotted an Old Fallen Telephone drop cable and measured out a piece and cut it with my knife and now, 18 miles into the ride, HE was saved from having to work alone any further and could simply enjoy my pedal power.

BUT, the climbs, the heat and the messy mess of soft dirt of Dutchman Bends road make quick work of WAR as he dropped back further than he had dropped back any other time that day. It was funny as we made our way along that road to see a sign that said, "get out or get shooted".
Am I supposed to take such a poorly grammatical warning for serious? I didn't and we made our way to the secret back door to Blue springs. At this point we had 4 miles or less of sandy mess to pedal and once again, It was a elastic band effect as the Dragons and I rolled out together, but the WAR fell back.

Before Long, we were parking the bikes and boys changed into their swim trunks to go for a swim. They swam for about an hour as I people watched and listened to the sounds of everything that was going on around me.

They came back and I googled mapped a restaurant on route 8 miles away.

The miles clicked by fast and I kept War close and before long, we were doing a sweet downhill into Beresford with only a few more miles to go before reaching JC's Lobster pit.

We sat and ate and although the service was slow and the portions disproportionate, we strapped on our lights and headed out to ST Francis. As we made our way along the twisty skinny trail, we kept having to stop cause LIL'r NI was having stomach Cramps. Awesome.

As we got closer to St Francis we spotted a truck on a fire road. Uh OH.

When We reached St. Francis there was two trucks hanging out, and as I politely said Hi, we kept going hiking away from there Country Music, till I could barely hear it and the spirits guided me to a good camping spot.

I grabbed some giant wide ended palm frawns and asked the boys to do the same and we cleared out the leaves and dug a hole.

Soon enough we had a pretty fire going and we set up camp, and hung out, and snacked and talked and listened.

War was tired from riding all day, and he went to sleep and soon enough we all went to bed. I laid there awake for a long while watching Ride the Divide on my phone day dreaming about my impending adventure across the United States.

Eventually I drifted to sleep only to wake up to what I thought was someone walking towards camp. The sound was distinct and for a second I was sure one of the drunken party goers had decided they wanted to harass us, but after sprinting to my feet and shining my light around there was nothing to see.

The night was restless for all, foot steps everywhere, animals and owls singing symphonies that can only be heard when you venture deep into the forest. Although I had no proof, I am sure there are supernatural beings lurking on the old town site of St Francis.

The night was cold and I shivered most of the night, got up fast to build a fire to warm us all up.

After a breakfast of gummies and chocolate we set off to shred some new singletrack that I had not had the chance of riding before. The boys were both moving slow, as they are not used to riding and stopping and riding and stopping.

I was having a blast, enjoying riding something new, taking pictures and videos and once to make it to Deleon to spend time with Edith and Shelby and spend a lazy Sunday resting.

The wind was FIERCE when we hit the road. And I commanded Kailan to pedal as it was pure full body effort on my part to battle the wind and tow 100 plus pounds at the same time.

I chopped the day up into three goals.

Goal one, finish the St Francis singletrack.
Goal Two, reach the final resupply and grab some cold drinks.
Goal Three, reach the Deleon hang out.

Goal one was easy, and fun.

Goal two was fast, but hard.

Goal Three, just as fast, and just as hard as the road to Deleon is riddled with rolling terrain, up and down, up and down. All the while keeping a stray eye to my rear to make sure that Edward was somewhere back there.

Eventually, we locked into a sprint to the finish and Edward used his knowledge of his neighbor hood to beat us to the house. Good job my friend!

It was a great little trip. AND although we did hear lots of things, we didn't get any proof. AND although we wanted to Geocache, once the boys saw that we would have to pedal off route to find them, they were not as interested. Seems like the Geocaches in the Ocala National forest are designed for individuals with jeeps to trudge deep into sandy terrain, not kids or hikers on bikes or by foot.

The bike gave me a cyst, but after this ride, all traces of this cyst had gone.

thank you, I am way behind in my Tour Divide prep and have to CRAM to feel ready for this enormous challenge.

Take Care,

Laters,

The NaKeD InDiaN

LiVe To RiDe, LoVe To RidE

Not Long ago I heard about John Stamstad conquering the Divide in a self supported fashion during an 18 day Ordeal.

My Friend Aaron told me about it, and I was fascinated, enamoured.

That was about 10 years ago when I first started riding Mountain Bikes.

And For the past three years I have been preparing to do the very same thing. Maybe not as fast, but gonna go just a little bit farther then John did years ago.

What alot of you may or may not know is that I am a single dad with custody of my kids. Yes thats right, these beautiful sons of mine which I call LIL NI and LIL'r NI live with me and they have lived with me for the past 11 years.

I am part of the few and the proud but growing clans of single fathers.

And this Father here has a dream. To ride his bike from Banff Canada to Antelope Wells New mexico along the Great Divide Moutain Bike route.

There is no charity. Just a selfish desire to live out a dream.

Over the years I have grown, and blogged about my adventures. Shared about my heart ache and hardships, my successes and my failures.

I have poured out my heart and sould on this blog right here.

With assistance from Rob Roberts I put together The Cross Florida Individual Time trial, Pioneered a coast to coast off road route and this past weekend successfully put on the hardest mountain bike race in the state of Florida. A self supported Mountain Bike Epic called the Huracan 300.

And for all these events, I never asked for a single entry fee. I just asked for the people who were willing to step up and ride, step up and adventure. I put these routes together, with the sole purpose of bringing the sport of bikepacking to the state. Giving our community right here the ability to go bikepacking without having to travel. Giving us the ability to go ride 100 off road miles without having to drive 500 miles. Even got Trackleaders involved and had a podcast created. All this done, with 0 budget and with 0 dollars from participants.

Why?

Cause I wanted to give to the sport that I love so much. I wanted to give something to the community that would last way beyond my years, I wanted to pioneer the development of a sport that was growing across the united states and bring it to my home turf. And like they say, if you want something done, you got to do it yourself.

But folks this is who I am. A generous being who believes in giving. Once when I was on the Swamp Forum, I saw a bike that a poster was riding and with the help of Marcel we coordinated the first ever Frankenbike build. I gave him a frame and the community put in the parts. It was truly a beautiful gesture.

AND now, I have a dream. A dream that I have been wanting to manifest for years. A dream to ride in the hardest longest mountain bike race in the world. And for the past three years I have done nothing but study the sport and prepare.

I have manged to get some money together to go. But you got to figure, I have to cover the expenses of the preparation, the expenses of traveling as well as cover the loss of income while I am gone. All the while training and preparing. Its quite a bit.

BUT in the end, something that I didn't calculate in my complex budget has befallen me.

My bike that I planned to ride in the divide, is in a state that it could not safely complete the route, it is essentially broken. The warranty will not cover it, and I totally respect that, I think wholeheartedly that I got my moneys worth out of this bike. AND it still works, I just don't know if its the smartest thing in the world to be bombing a mountain on the bike in the state its in.

Do you read my blog?
Have you followed it for years?
Have you ever been inspired by it?
Have you lost weight following my nutritional advice?
Have you learned something from my mistake or my successes?
Well If you have then I ask you to return the positive vibes I have sent your way.

For about the price of a cup of coffee a day, I could have a cup of coffee a day or better yet, replace the bike that I didn't anticipate not having for my trip. No donation is too big, nor too small. So far just through a facebook status update, and through the kindness of individuals I have raised 530$. I get choked up and my eyes well up with tears when I think about how generous people have been.

DO I have a fundraising goal? Truly, enough to replace my bike would be all I need. The bikeshop I have rode for years can help me get a super sweet deal that would put me on a new and capable ride and give me extra parts that can be used on the Divide. But all you donate can help me survive during the ride and help me and my sons survive when I return, before my 3 week delay checks start rolling in.( no vacation pay in my line of work)

In fact, all this time, I didn't really know if people payed attention to my online ramblings. For the one's who have already donated I am thankful, touched and will never forget. For the one's who can and will donate I am thankful as well. And for those that can only donate positive vibes and well wishes, heck I will gladly take those too, it all helps in the end.

Lynne Daniels said it would be a truly inspirational thing for me to ride a bike From Canada to Mexico, sponsored by friends, Fans and the Mountain Bike community. I cant say that I don't agree and see the beauty of such a venture.

The donate button is on the side bar.

Thanks ahead of time,

Take Care,

Laters,

The NaKeD InDiaN

The GoNzO TrANs FLoRiDa

Living out your dreams, to me thats what its all about.


One day, Long ago, Rob Roberts put an idea in my head of a wheel dip to wheel dip coast to coast dirty ride.

And I looked.

AND he looked.

And as it stands there are probably several ways to get across the state, but being impatient as I am, I mapped something out.

SO sometime Last year, Rob and I took off from my house and we did a version of the route.

This particular version included the St. Francis to Paisley wagon trail. I like it, but Rob HATED it. Hate is not a strong word for it either. For a brief description of what its like, for those who have ever ridden Billie bay wilderness fire road, picture 11 miles of that with more hills.

Anyhow, I reworked the route. Finalized an east coast to Deltona connection and used a portion of the Huracan to get to the ONF without using the St Francis to paisley wagon trail.

Months and months went by, and I decided I wanted to go and do the route, this time go coast to coast all the way and finish. I invited a select few.

Rob was out of town on Business, the others either said NO or didn't respond and Jeff Tomassetti said he would go.

After working and re working the departure plan, we finally figured out the logistics and got dropped off a bit late on the coast of New Smyrna Beach. It didn't matter really to me, we dipped our wheels made a video as proof and rolled out.

Pavement soon gave way to back roads.
Back roads soon gave way to parking lots.
Parking Lots soon gave way to double track.
Double track gave way to super buff skinny trail.
So buff that you couldn't see around corners and it was all a surprise.
The big surprise was how nice it was. I had only mapped this using the satellite maps and had yet to ride it, but it was NICE!

A fence hop here, a canal crossing there and before I knew it we were on more dirt roads leading to more fences. But it seemed that each fence just stopped cars from passing thru cause on either side there were roads that dead ended at that point.

We finally reached what appeared to be the ultimate dead end that blocked what looked like an overgrown doubletrack road. Dogs were barking in the distance, howling, carrying on. I admit a little panic set in, but we hopped the fence quick and I encouraged Jeff to go, go, go.

AND he did, but grass got caught all up in my cassette and I was skipping my way all the while to the paved road.

We finally made it to Old Maytown road marking the Longest stretch of pavement for the night.

This turned into my first experience with the Tomassetti Train.

I learned that JEFF is no JOKE. HE can hammer. The road was his home and It took all I had to stay in his draft. When he cleared way to let me pull, all I could do was a little baby pull, and then I would let him back at it. BUT, I hung in there, and all the work payed off and we made it to Osteen real quick, where I needed food and a stretch.

Now we were in familar terrain, I no longer needed to look at a GPS for the next 20 miles.
Pedaline we were, fast and quick along the route. We hit dirt again only to discover the prediction of them building a bike path had come true and the usual old rail bed we ride was a sandy tractor ravaged mess. Sad, but this is something I knew was coming for about 5 years.

Before long we were on Old titusville road, then along the morality trail, and then I look back and No Jeff. I figure he must have had something tangled in his cassette, cause Jeff is an animal.

AND sure enough that's what happened.

I give Jeff this, HE talks and keeps things interesting. BUT I am learning that I have lost my ability to be a good communicator. Shortly after the 7 eleven restock, I thought I communicated that we were going straight on 46. But Jeff took off on the old route. So after several minutes I noticed the mix up, I had to chase him down on International and pedal my butt off, when I was already dead tired, UGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhh...

What did this all equate too...

Bonus miles. But, it also made the ride in a way safer and more dirtier as we took the bike path out to get closer to our planned camp for the night, the Seminole Forest Hiking Shelter.

We made it. I had got a bunch of food and cargo netted it to my aero bars, it was so HOBO, but it didn't matter as I didn't plan to leave any further than camp with my meal. Knowing the Shelter was there, made it so I didn't have to set up my bivy. It made it so that I could get right to work.

My clothes were soaked after riding the Tomassetti Train for 63 miles. So I first laid down my old emergency blanket. Then I laid down my clothes. Covered them with news paper I had poached from the store, then Laid my sleeping bag to use my body heat to dry all my gear. I sat there happily and chatted as I ate an enormous meal of calories and left my drinks out in the grass to chill naturally overnight. AND it wasn't freezing that night, but it was very chilly out.

I slept as well as you could. I admit,I like sleeping in my hammock, but I am all about trying new things.

The next morning all my calories were liquid.

We decided we would roll through the singletrack and then take the green line as soon as we came across it. I took liberties that morning to show off to Tomassetti my secret Naked Indian Powers. I heard voices in the distant and was able to predict what the men looked like perfectly, I astounded myself even.

Jeff really enjoyed the trail and the sights and the beauty of the seminole forest and we constantly chatted all the way to Paisley which seemed to come very fast. At the store we stocked up for the impeding forest crossing. It wasn't till long after that I realized that I didn't eat the Ice cream I bought and I left it in the fridge.

Along the Paisley MTB trail we went, then Into Billie Bay finding the Oddest thing I have ever come across in the forest a 20 Jeep rally. I never expected it.

As we kept going, they stopped and we apparently got too close as we got sprayed with wet dirt. Disgusting. It was everywhere. I learned in the military long ago to HTFU and instead of trying to clean my filthy self I told Jeff that we could clean up at Buck Lake.

We made our way to Buck lake and the oddest thing happened.

I have come to buck lake many times. It is a beautiful place, remote and secluded. NOT TODAY, there were at least 50 college kids. Girls and guys everywhere.

Immediately upon Arrival a guy and a girl approach. They tell us that they have reserved the site, blah, blah, blah. I tell them that we are here to clean up and get water.

Their response...."I guess that's Ok"...

In my head I thought, "you Guess?, You Guess? M-------ah there is no potable water for 20 miles..." LMAO...

Anyhow, the guy, who's name was Mario or something just as cheesy, was a douche, SO, I decided to turn on the Naked Indian Charm and start chatting with his girl.

They quickly walked away after that. AND I cleaned up.

I have been to the Lake many times, but never have I ever gone in the water. The water was frigid, making me think this lake must be spring fed. Which is good.

Anyhow, I cleaned up, ate, got some water and we rolled out on more singletrack. Eventually we made it to Forest road where the Tomassetti train fired up again and I had no interest in jumping on, LMAO. I was pooped and my legs were cramping. I have just started training and my legs were very smoked, chasing Jeff was just not in the cards.

I could see him get smaller in the distance. I was hoping he was enjoying the rolling terrain, eventually we saw a small dot in the distance in the middle of the road. As we got closer I realized it was a man. Shirtless, in Sandals.. Walking in the middle of the ONF. WTF, is all I Thought. Even more surprising was that Jeff stopped to speak to him.

In my head I was thinking, NO JEFF, but, anyhow. When I finally got there I had to interrogate him.

What are you doing out here, no water, no supplies. He assured me he was some sort of kick ass wanderer by telling me about his last wandering session. "I went from blah blah blah to titusville and back, blah, blah, blah." ALL I could think was either he was insane OR he was a drug addict.

Jeff gave him water, which was nice an we tried to give him directions, but in retrospect I think I told him wrong.

O well.

Eventually we emerged from the forest, onto pavement, I was hurting pretty good, I cannot lie. We pressed on, I was tired, I wanted to rest, but forward and onward and cramps and all, we made it to Greenway, then onto the 12 hour where I found my team mates, and called it a day. Sure we could have pressed on, but I thought, this is a good place to stop, a good place to rest, a good place to recover. I spent the rest of the evening, drinking water and eating anything and everything.

It was awesome, finally catching up with my team mates, it had been so long since we had seen each other face to face. So we talked and laughed and had a great time. Eventually they packed and I cleared a spot on the ground and slept like a stone on the soft earth.

The next morning I had a handful of nuts and an apple.

I needed more than that to ride the entire epic plus beyond Haltapa. I didn't want to go to wal mart of course. I have grown stubborn in my bikepacking. Often I don't want to stop for water or food, not a good habit to have.

We were being good 'Leave no trace' campers and throwing away our garbage, when I saw Dave Hawkins and begged him for food. He obliged and we stocked up and rolled on.

The track rolled great, and before we knew it we were about to start the Hell track section. Now to Clarify, the Hell track is only about 1 mile and we call it that cause a mud and over growth form that makes grass and brush taller than you are on your bike. It also has mud that's impassable, whether dry or wet. BUT, one time in the past and including today, there was nothing hellish about it. It happens.

We stopped at subway and had breakfast. I knew we had 30 odd miles left, we notified our pick up and rolled on. Time for the Tomassetti Train. We worked, and at one point, the cramps came back and I had to roll my pace. WE went off road, marveled at the oddity of a western version of Deltona. Which is weird. Up and down we went. Into the soft sand, where Jeff got to witness my sick and well developed sand skills. I waited, and then once again, when I thought Jeff saw me, he didn't and he went off course, this time pretty far. I sat under a tree for a good while till he came along. I felt bad for assuming he had made visual contact with me when he indeed hadnt.

We eventually made it after too much pavement to the start of the final bike path section and Jeff spotted a possible way to get here in the future eliminating some of that road, I took mental Note and on we went to finish with another ceremonial and well deserved wheel dip. 213 miles, some 18 or some odd hours of ride time 44 hours of total time, making US the first official wheel dip to wheel dip off road Transflorida finishers.

RAD!
A dream realized.

Eventually after waiting too long we got picked up and celebrated over drinks.

Jeff did a great write up, which I recommended he submit to a magazine. This is more of a journalistic write up, his was downright poetic. I enjoyed traveling with Jeff, but damn he is fast and it hurt to ride with him. Next time I take him on a trip it will be all singletrack that way I don't have to make him wait so long.

I also learned on this trip that I am a bottles guy, camelbak equals cramps, I forget to drink. Lesson learned. Also learned that I am hammock guy, bivy is not going to work for me. Not at all. The recuperative rest I get from hanging in a hammock is worth the weight penalty. What can I say, its probably genetic, the hammock thing.

Take care,

Laters,

The NakeD InDiaN

TouR DiViDe TraInInG CaMp Week Two Feb13th - 20th 64 miles

Week one was a huge miles dump on the legs. And I knew that on the 18th I was going to finally do a complete coast to coast 200 mile weekend, so I chose to take it easy during this week and only did two rides.

The rides were not hard, in fact, every ride was simply gorgeous.

I spent that first 32 miles or so home pondering the beauty of a route.

A beautiful route is sometimes hard.
It sometimes climbs.
It sometimes descends.
It sometimes is easy.
It has fantastic views.
And terribly boring sections.
A good route gives you a chance to notice something new and different every time you venture on it.
A good route is like a fine wine, a good poem, a great movie or a good book.
A good route is chock ful of personality and an ever present opportunity to have an adventure everytime you venture upon it.

Took me three hours to get home, I still felt slow, but it was a great day to be on the bike regardless.

That evening I had picked up some stuff Rob had dropped at the job. In one of the bike bags I found a pair of Knicker Pearl Izumi bibs. That next morning, since I knew there would be a chill in the air, I decided to wear the bibs. And its amazing what I learned that day.

The morning was not cold enough that I even needed gloves. But cold enough that I put on my wool base layers and arm warmers. But not so cold that I could keep my jersey zipped, so I rode with it wide open so it would flap in the wind like a cape.

I was amazed at how thick the Fog was. I could barely see 100 feet in front of me and I was on a bicycle. But I was impressed, that since my knees were warm, the blood was circulating better and I was riding faster. In fact I beat my best time for the 32 miles that I have ever had and made it to work in 2 hours and 10 minutes, nearly 50 minutes faster than the evening before. I love how after all this riding and training and prepping I still learn new things.

Beautiful pair of rides. What can I say, bike riding is often magical.

Take Care,

Laters,

The NaKeD InDiaN

TouR DiViDe TraInInG CaMp Week One Feb7th-11th 164 Miles 15 hours~

I must of picked the worst week in the world to start preparing for my TD.

Not only did I pick the worst week, but after owning my rain gear for one year and only using it one time, I had to pull it out and put it all on as the weather was in the low 40's and the rain was coming down in buckets.

Awesome I thought.

Perfect I thought.

If it aint raining it aint training.

5 minutes into the ride, the front brake quit working, awesome.

I felt cold as I pedaled along the route. Google maps had picked it out, and I follow it.

Darkness creeped in.
And it got colder.
But I kept pedaling.
The rain gear was working, but the time was getting late.
As I got closer to home with only 5 miles or less left, I could feel the squish in my front tire. I stopped and had to change a flat in the cold rain and wind.
Perfect.

I fixed the flat, stopped in at Wal mart and bought the food needed to make dinner and pedaled it home.

All my commuting is being done on my Mountain bike btw. This is real training.

I felt weak, and slow, but thats how it was meant to go.

The next morning I got up early and rode into work, after doing all I could to dry my clothes. Another cold morning. My time splits were way off and again I was misreably slow.

I was not happy with the time I was making at all, and 20 miles into the ride I couldnt even feel my toes.

I got to work at 750 am, very late, and rushing to grab my stuff and start my 12 hour shift.

That night I didnt ride to work, I got out so late, that a 3 hour ride would of meant me being home at midnight and as always when I get home I got to prep dinner for my son.

The next day, I drove in, worked and got out early. Early enough to ride in the sun. I was pretty happy about this and even though my legs were sore, I kept pedaling and actually felt good and before I knew it I was zipping along, taking as much sidewalk as I could. To me riding sidewalks may not be safe, but it simulates off road riding more then perfectly smooth roads.

On the bike path I was consuming riders and walkers and joggers and then along comes a slightly overweight 50 something that passes me on her trek road bike. I chased her down, caught her and passed her and tried to put her away.

She came back on the uphill and caught me again.

Ok I thought. Damn I though.

This time I sat on her wheel for a bit, and then really put in an attack, and passed her again. And then after a couple of minutes she caught me again right before an intersection, she stopped for a car I kept going. Being honorable I did not feel this was a fair pass, and I let her regain her spot and she did. I stayed about 5 bikes back, catching my breath and decided that I needed to put this Older, out of shape, but fit rider away. I put in the biggest attack yet and when I passed her, she cheered me on, as if mocking me. I really put my head down, really dug into the freddies, and then when I least expected it, she passed me and finished me off. Insult to injury I got smoked by a fat fit person. My ego was crushed and I was humbled.

I spent the rest of the ride telling myself that she was on a road bike, and that I still rode 20 more miles after getting my butt kicked and even settled that on the excuse that God took flesh form to humble me that afternoon, but the truth was, I got my butt kicked on my bike path by an older, chubby lady on a road bike...

The next morning I rode in as planned, took that evening off and then rode in the next day ending the week strong, but tired and feeling sore. I had no intentions of pedaling that weekend.

Its difficult to not criticize yourself when your just starting your training, but I had not been satisfied at all with my splits, and the earliest I made it to work, even after battling flats again, on one of the mornings was 746am. I had to either pick up the pace, or get up even earlier then 430am. None of which seemed realistic at the time to me, LOL.

O well, week one is in the books so to speak....2 flats, Front brake out.

Take Care,

Laters,

The NaKeD InDiaN

DeLiVeRaNcE

Often as another busy week passes, the craving consumes me for pedal therapy.

I not only compete in Long distance events, I love riding long distances. AND, its not so much about the mileage, not about bragging. Its just fun to travel and experience the adventure that can come.

I departed from De Leon after a hardy breakfast in the middle of the day. Arguably a little late, but more often then not you will catch me saying, "its my day off, I want to ignore the clock".

Plus, in my deep seeded preparations for the divide I often just want to do out of the ordinary riding. I want to not follow the traditional training schedule rules. THE rule in my mind for preparing to conquer the divide, is to ride whenever, wherever.

I could not have asked for better weather. I knew that although the day was warm, once the sun would set, I would have to deal with some chilly weather.

I had spent the day before, pondering if I was going to use my single speed or beef up the 'not yet to be named cross check' for Cyclocross duties. In the great tradition of procrastination I decided at the last minute to grab the cross bike and use that.

I packed enough stuff to brave the expected evening temps, I left under warm sun and clear skies. The plan was to gain revenge for the 3 forest tour that Kai, Edward and I had attempted, which later turned out to be more than they could handle.

I started off by crossing The Lake George Forest. The forest roads where in great shape and I decided to check out the park at the end of St Johns River Road. It was such a beautiful spot, I momentarily daydreamed of bringing the boys out here on a quick over night trip.

After spending a good 30 minutes or more at the park just listening to the sounds of the river and feeling the sun on my skin, I made my way up the road and started seeing what I noticed to be Tire tracks. I remember at the time finding this to be an extremely odd thing, I was pretty far out there. And sure enough as I came around a bend, I spotted a lady, biking on a beach cruiser, walking her dog at the same time.

I tried to make noise to alert her, but she was non responsive and almost crashed once I made my pass. I hate to admit that it was a little funny to startle her, but I seriously made some heart felt attempts to communicate my passing intent.

I made it to SR 40 and ventured down to the boat docks that sit next to the bridge over the St. Johns River. I went down there to take photos, I was in a shutter bug mood and I wanted to share the sights I was going to see that day. All too often I get caught up in making bike pedal that I refuse to stop and take pictures.

As I was taking photos there were some men and a woman drinking beers about 150 feet away. One man wearing a trucker hat, sporting a beard, red faced and drunk was calling to me.

It was right at this moment that I had one of the most awkward experiences I have ever had in my life.

He proceeded to tell me he liked my britches and how he wanted to get him some of that.

I thank the great creator he was a good distance away, cause as uncomfortable of a moment as that was, if he would have been close to me and saying such things it might have turned into an altercation.

My Intuition told me to leave fast and say little and I did just that.

On the road I had visions of being chased down by this "country boy" and being ran off the road. So I kept my pace high. Off the road the bike was hard to pedal, its currently geared for paved riding only, but on the road, even with the wider Cyclocross tires, I can still put down some serious tempo.

So for the next 20 miles, that's what I did... Serious Tempo to separate myself from them "good Ole Country boys".

I made it to the Paisley Mountain bike trail.

I pedaled up and down the skinny trail, and decided to fulfill my prearranged agreement to stop for lunch at the 35 mile mark.

I found a log on the trail in the middle of now where and had a chance to take another "ME" moment.

Just then I heard the shifting of some gears and twisted my head to see Mountain Bikers using the trail. Goodness, even though this is a mountain bike trail, you don't see many people riding out here. I chuckled a bit as they passed. One guy stared at my bike, half surprised to see someone else out there riding as well, and half surprised to see a guy on a road bike in the middle of the trail.

I finished my Lunch (an apple) and decided I wanted more food. I figured I could easily make the Paisley Mart and get the supplies I needed to complete the estimated 50 or so miles I had left.

I was on a time table as I had plans.

So when I got the quick mart, I grabbed supplies quickly:

1 bag of honey BBQ lays
1 bag of coconut m and m's
1 Reese's peanut butter cup
1 Starbucks Coffee plus Energy drink.

I stuffed my pockets and hauled ass.

I opened my shirt to create a kangaroo pouch effect and stuffed my chips in there and I literally had my lunch as I pedaled. Once again I saw this as an excellent training opportunity to practice eating and riding.

Once I finished all my food, I saw a garbage can on the side of Maggie Jones Road and I disposed of my waste.

Around the bend I came and saw a person walking in the middle of the road. The closer I got, I noticed it was a hiker, complete with a back pack. When I was within talking distance he asked me to stop.

He started chatting with me, asking me if there were supplies and a hotel in paisley. I explained what they had and asked him how much longer was he walking... He said "about 3 more weeks", I started in "key west".

Ok!

I then asked him if he had water and he said he had not had any for about the last 10 miles.

I had just refilled at paisley and on a bike I move alot faster than he does, so he asked for a gulp and I told him I would fill his bottles.

While I was filling his bottles, he asked me questions about my set up, how long was I going, he took my picture, and then before we parted I asked him his name.

He said, "my trail name is Wandering Heart, but my real name is Bernard."

I responded, "my real name is Karlos, my trail name is the Naked Indian."

Off I went to finish my ride, and off he went to finish his wandering.

I cleared Seminole forest, with no troubles, changed my socks, and applied layers and lights and finished my ride. No more strange Occurrences, a total of 75 miles.

That night while having dinner with my friend, I recounted the tails and reminded myself why I Love traveling by bike, its a never ending opportunity to learn more about this wonderful planet the great creator has blessed us to exist upon.

Take Care,

Laters,

The NaKeD InDiaN

The GeOrGe FoReMaN GriLL OuT

LiL NI, the 17yr old turned said age and we of course had to celebrate.

Celebrating on a budget is always interesting and with the hectic life I lead, (working and training full time, being a full time dad, being a race organizer, preparing for the tour, blah, blah blah) I didn't want to go through the hassle of firing up an actual grill.

SO, in my best "Monster Truck voice" I called this party the George Foreman Grill out.

This was my first Grill out, so I was new and unprepared, so when I hit the store, I just bought like 48 of everything, LMAO.

Soon enough his merry band of friends started arriving and I started grilling.

I also started sipping on Sum Rum. Ya, LIL NI didn't know, neither did LIL'r NI, but I did.

By the time everyone had finished eating, I was full on intoxicated...

IT was at this moment that my son, the birthday boy, asked me if I wanted to skate.

Of course I said yes and before I knew it, I was outside, nose manual and ripping all over the street.

Then the Box was pulled out and I was popping on and off of it like it was yesterday the last time I skated when it had actually been some time in the summer of 2010.

The shred continued and as the session started to mellow out, my son asked me to play skate.

Skate is like Horse in basketball. One person does a trick, the other person has to do the same trick or get a Letter. The first person to get the entire word of Skate on to their name is the loser.

Luke was up first and I made quick work of him. He only managed to give me an S.

LIL NI wanted to play me next and at first I refused. But he insisted.

And after a tense game, I got two letters an S and a K, I decided to start stacking boards up on their side to see how tall we could pop our ollies.

I took out Kain at the 3 board mark, but I was hardly done. All we had were five boards counting the one I was riding, but at 3 normal 8 inch boards and one 11 inch wide long board, stacked on their sides, I finished off the session with a Huge pop clearing all of them.

It was truly a good day to be a rum drunken skateboarder.

Haha.

(kids, this kind of skating is not ever recommended for anyone, remember, I am a professional, don't try this at home)

Take care,

Laters,

The NaKeD InDiaN

St FraNcis Pain CaVe WaGoN TraIL COnNector

Ever since the Failed TransFlorida Kai and I had, I have been constantly considering how to make him strong enough for that type of effort.

He already commutes 5 days of the week logging a minimum of 4 miles a day, 20 a week. LOL, its not a lot but he's 11.

Not long after the Failed XFL, we went riding and he had his strongest ride ever. Proves my theory of what does not kill you makes you a better rider.

So one day I daydreamed of Taking Edward and Kailan to the Ghost town of St Francis then across the pain cave connector to Alexander springs.

I had no idea what the mileage would be. The only part of the route I needed was the Old wagon trail route, the rest I knew.

And off we set, making our way along the Undulating De Leon Bike Path. I would drop them, stop, take pictures, then chase them down, the drop them. It seemed like they were having a good time as they pedaled and chatted.

We arrived at the first designated rest and resupply spot. We had some quick snacks, I stuffed my frame bag full of food for all of us.

I made an agreement early with my fellow riders.

"I will be your pack mule", I told them....

"but I am not bringing a tow rope",.....

They agreed.

The Path to the Ghost Town of St Francis is fun with a capital F. Sick long board walks, twisty rooty trail. We even found an Artesian well, which I am willing to bet is safe for drinking.

We made it to the Ghost Town and relaxed, and looked at the river, and ate food, and rested a bit.

I knew after that, the real ride was going to begin. The wagon trail is an arduous challenge for any rider, let alone a 14 yr old and an 11 yr old.

But it was actually in amazing shape.

The wagon trail is hardly flat.

The constant long ups and downs, and Sand, kept splitting up the group. Many breaks were had. Both boys started suffering.

But they stuck to their agreement and persevered. I was very Proud of LiL'R NI as he really found his HTFU and started working out the terrain and the effort with all out body standing single speed mashing.

At one point we were waiting a bit of the Road side for Edward.

We can see in the distance that he keeps pausing. And bending over, then he rides some more and he repeats.

Well when he finally catches up to us, he shows us how his pedal had stripped out the crank arm and fell off. He had been kind of rigging it to make it to us.

Well I attempted to zip tie it and broke the ties.

I attempted to find a stick to shove in the hole so he could pedal. Afterall the last 6 miles were on forest road and with a good strong stick the perfect length and perfect diameter it would have been completely doable.

BUT No. Nothing worked.

So I went into Bear Grylls mode and started looking around the woods to see if I could find some old rope or something to tow him with. There was only one way to go and that was forward.

Eventually I took my swiss army knife out. Cut one of my tubes, and fashioned a tow rope. Edward is alot bigger than Kailan, and this was one tough work out. BUT, I got our speed up and not only were we rolling but we were rolling fast.

Kailan was hurting, but being humble and not being shy to ask for us to rest a minute. I was so proud that he finished a very hard ride in the forest under his own power.
'
At Alexander Springs, I took a nap with my cold weather gear on as the onslaught of night brought about a significant chill.

Before Long Extraction arrive and off we went to eat and celebrate the Pain Cave exploration they endured on this day.

Truly a great lesson was learned by all.

Take Care,

Laters,

The NaKeD InDiaN

The 2011 RuNNiNg of the IndiaN

8 riders came out.

Biggest turn out for the ride in two years.

Lots of new fresh faces, some returning riders and of course Rob, who's never missed an Indian since the Indian began.

The ride is my training loop, 62 miles of dirt, pavement, paths, skinny trail and whatever else I could mash into it. I put it together to avoid riding on the road so much and with all the odd riding you do, going from pavement to dirt and climbing and descending its a hell of a work out.

This was a year of many first. We had the most single speeders we ever had on the ride. We had the most 29Er's we've ever had on a ride.

As soon as we took off I kept the pace high, but relaxed. It was nice as I led the group out to hear the riders just conversing, talking, enjoying the day and the company.

It didn't take long for me to get too hot and have to take off my riding shirt strip to my base layer and put it in my frame pack to keep cool.

The ride was great, but my legs were smoked from riding with Rob the day before so I kept myself in a conservative zone.

The first 30 something miles to Angelina's was awesome with lots of good times and smiles and climbing. For the first time in 5 running's we actually rode the rail road service road as a group and had a train fly by at the same time, it was pretty intense.



The singletrack at Lake beresford was buff and fast and we even found a super long slow climb out there that I didn't know even existed.

The rollers after were a beast and I played sweep as I watched the group of geared riders and properly geared single speeders race away from me. I didn't mind. I knew I could ride all day, and I knew we still had a lot of climbing and route to ride.

Unfortunately the organizer messed up cause Angelina's was closed. On a Sunday? WTF... I guess that is exactly what happens when you assume.

We ate at Beef's and I kept it light, but I was starved by the time we had arrived. Intentionally I have been keeping my stomach empty on rides, in preparation for my Tour Divide. I like to see how hard I can push on little to no food. For some reason, in my mind this helps me prepare for ridiculous Ultra efforts. Helps me prepare for the extreme situations I like putting myself thru.

We honestly could not have had a better group of folks. It was all smiles and jokes as we rolled toward the witch town of Cassadega. Immediately the route gave way to urban singletrack rollers extravaganza

Before long, we were on Old Enterprise road beginning the longest section of skinny trail for the route. I think the riders enjoyed the scenic twisty trail. We rode along a lake and climbed our way out on dirt and before we knew it we were climbing up and down on the wolf pack run ATV trail. It was at that point that we had our longest wait for a fellow rider. One of my team mates that had seriously been putting down the hammer for entire ride got the life sucked out of him on the rollers.

After clearing this section all the new dirt I had added was now done and it was time for me to solo celebrate. For once in 5 years I felt the route had finally matured into a good conglomerate of dirt, pavement, urban skinny trail, ATV path and road.

Pavement gave way to dirt, and my team mate exclaimed that he was done, and I responded, we only got 2 miles left.

And he made it, we all made it. After we conversed as the chill of the impending dusk slowly chased my cold wet self inside and the other Indian riders into their vehicles for their long drives home.

Truly a bro down like we have not had in years.

I almost felt like a king that day, as fellow single speeders knowing that I had a spinned out gear would come back and block the wind and other riders would do the same, all helping to keep us together as one big flowing unit of gears, chains and Human flesh.

It was truly a good day to ride the Indian.

Take Care,

Laters,

The NaKeD InDiaN

ThIs JuSt In...

I Karlos A Rodriguez Bernart,

Being of sound Shred and Body, declare to engage this route in all out Physical combat.

I will ride till my body demands rest. Ride till my body demands food. And rise when my body demands bike.

I will repeat this till I reach Antelope Wells New Mexico.

It has been my dream for years to ride this route and to challenge it in the grandest fashion of all.

The Most honorable way to do this is to line up and challenge the route against all competitors, be them male or female, young or old, pro or amateur, geared or single speed, on June 10th 2011.

I will be a Ronin Singletrack Samurai On the long journey to find the beauty that endless miles of dirt will give.

Han Han Catu,

Karlos A. R. Bernart,
The NaKeD InDiaN

ThIs JuSt In...

I Karlos A Rodriguez Bernart,

Being of sound Shred and Body, declare to engage this route in all out Physical combat.

I will ride till my body demands rest. Ride till my body demands food. And rise when my body demands bike.

I will repeat this till I reach Antelope Wells New Mexico.

It has been my dream for years to ride this route and to challenge it in the grandest fashion of all.

The Most honorable way to do this is to line up and challenge the route against all competitors, be them male or female, young or old, pro or amateur, geared or single speed, on June 10th 2011.

I will be a Ronin Singletrack Samurai On the long journey to find the beauty that endless miles of dirt will give.

Han Han Catu,

Karlos A. R. Bernart,
The NaKeD InDiaN

T.K.O.B.

Means Taking Kare of Business.

A week ago Saturday, I took Rob to show him that odd section of Croom I had stumbled upon while mapping a couple of weeks back.

After a couple of odd turns here and there we were on track.

It took a good 7 miles or so before we starting hitting the crazy stuff. Rob was pleasantly surprised and we spent the next 6 miles or so riding from pit to pit negotiating some steep drops and long tall rises.

It went on like that for a little while, and after what seemed like more than enough miles, we started speculating on how racers would feel encountering said conditions. Considering that they would at this point have 80 miles under their belt.

The Trail did not roll easy nor did it relent. It was constant challenge and you could really feel the climb up to Tucker Hill. 20 something miles later and a little unplanned detour and we were surprised that we didn't bring enough food for all the miles we had done. We cut back to the car via forest road, leaving me wondering what I was going to do with this croom section for the race.

By far it was tough terrain. By far it was dangerous at spots. By far it has some of the tallest peaks I have hiked up too in Croom. BUT, it was confusing and without a gpx file I thought it would be hard for a racer to negotiate the route. Especially since it required us to go past signs that said trail closed.

Regardless, that day, with smoked legs and hungry for food, I rolled away with thoughts heavy on my mind on what I would do with this section of the Huracan.

Take Care,

Laters,

The NaKeD InDiaN

RoCk SpRinGs

The Huracan Ride is fast approaching and I am still finalizing the mindor details of some of the sections. Adding a Little more singletrack to keep things fun ya know.

So I set out to do the Rock springs section with more singletrack then before.

If you have kept up lately, Rob and I went out with LILr NI to map this but got rained out within minutes of beginning. This time I was solo, and there was no rain.

I set out and before I knew it the quick cadence from my single speed spin had delivered me to the Rock Springs trail head. After a little fire road assault, I was treated to sweet twisty track reminiscent of Croom or Boyette's quadrants.

A wrong turn, here, a little backtrack there and I was at the place where I was planning to do the river crossing on this years ride.

I crossed the river, easy enough, got to the other side and the nightmare began. I was super lost. For a long while wondered and tried to keep my wits as I was bushwacking thru the thick saw grass palmetto.

I immediately summoned up all I have learned in survival books and programs.
Pick a fixed point....
Try to follow the shore line.....
Eventually I found a clear spot, and took some time to clear my thoughts.

I pulled out my droid and brought up the satellite maps and guesstimated a direction and did my best to follow game trails and wallah, I was out of the woods onto a forest road.

Relief....

I did several loops to figure out the lay out, and then set off back on route, riding fast and enjoying the undulating single track.

As whereas I had started my ride in Sanford, one river crossing and some trail navigation later, I was in Apopka.

The rest of the ride was a road ride. Keeping my tempo quick I stopped to drink some coffee and eventually made it back to the car enjoying each pedal stroke along the way. It had been a beautiful ride and great way to kick of 2011.



Take Care,

Laters,

The NaKeD InDiaN

HoPPy NU YeaR....

What does the beginning of a New Year mean to you?

Obviously its a chance to start a new, but to me, its the day my son was born and that holds a higher meaning then watching ball drops.

To me, my new year begins on the day after my birthday, cause to me, that is when I complete my annual voyage around the son on this rock that we call Earth.

BUT, its a tradition for people to party and I party, cause like I said, I started my Life Long Journey into FatherHood on the New Year.

I wanted to go pedal pedal, but instead, I wanted to spend the day with Kailan, Shelby, Edward and Edith. I wanted to swing by the shop, prep my bike with a 15 tooth cog, get some haircuts for the boys, see a 1$ movie and then head home to party.

Well, the shop was a fail, it closed early. The haircuts went off without a hitch. The movie had was fun, and then the ride home was a blast. It seems like when you put that many kids together, its chaos.

Regardless, back in the town of Deleon, we cooked, we drank, we laughed and had fun. Midnight rolled around and I had the most unique New Years experience ever. In my Neighborhood they shoot endless fireworks when he ball drops. In Deleon Springs Florida, they shoot guns. And lots of them. Sounded like a ten minute war of gun fire, big ones, little ones, automatic and semi automatic, sprinkled with pops and zips of actual fireworks. I had never had the pleasure of hearing such a symphony and was amazed by the experience.

We stayed up late, talking and laughing. Kailan and Edward lit the New Year Fire and it was built perfect, and bright and so so warm. We sat out there talking for a few more hours and then eventually after the drinks ran out and the conversation slowed down we all laid down to a new years sleep.

I had a lot of favorite moments that night. But the only one I am willing to share, happened early New years morning, when Kailan and I were sitting with our butts to the Earth, close to the fire, I turned to him, shook his hand and thanked him for being such a good fellow adventurer this year.

He smiled and shook my hand back thanking me in return.

Take Care,

Laters,

The NaKeD InDiaN

ThE ThREE FiDdy Revisited...

I would like to claim that I was the very first to at least coin the phrase Tree Fiddy.

I was even going to make T shirts,m but there was no momentum.

BUT its important to rehash and recap what 3 fiddy is.

Its doing all the famous off road 50 milers that come at the start of the year in a row.

Now I would like to claim I was the first to do this, but I don't honestly know if I was.

BUT, I have done 3 fiddies every year for as long as I can remember. Sadly this will be the first year that I wont make them. I guess I don't see the financial investment worth it this year, not the Fitties fault because they are indeed fun and they are indeed great.

NOW whats the best Fitty in the state???

Well, the first one I ever did was Suwanee. I remember pedaling in the granny gear across the flat cause my legs were cracked. And it continued to be a challenge in the following years requiring even Naps to complete the rides. NOW, I smoke the trail on a geared bike and crush it on a fixie. This one has to be my personal favorite only cause of the fact that you get to sit 50 feet above the river and see some big rapids. Big for Florida of course. By far the coolest shirts are from this ride and the food is the best and they tend to have the cutest local chicks...LMAO...

I remember how I first heard about the Tour De Felasco. I was looking in Mountain Bike Magazine and read about this ride, it would be the first running and I was there. In fact I was there every year since and I never missed a one, this will be the first year I miss. It has the most climbing by far and some kick ass singletrack. The only issue with the Tour is that its almost always cold, but I still love this place, and its so much fun to clean all the climbs. The first couple of years I caught some of the worst cramps in my life out there. But I learned, I got stronger, and now Its a joy ride, even when its freezing. I liked it when their shirts perpetuated the conquistador theme and bones i.e. like the original shirt. Now they strayed away from that and I dont even wear last years shirt at all, it just hangs there.

Croom 50 went on for a long time before I got to experience it. And by far its the hardest of the 3 since its 99.9% singletrack and offers no place to venture off mentally and escape like you can do on forest road or on double track. This place requires 100% concentration. And contrary to popular mythology, this place is chock full of descents and ascents. Seems like there are barely any flats and it has some HUGE stuff way in the back that will blow your mind.. PLUS the folks from Swamp know how to put on a event, simply put, some of the most interesting sag stops from all three as well, although they did borrow the wine and cheese Idea from Ididaride. If you like to suffer and you want to make sure you can get registered into the ride, this one is by far the easiest to obtain a spot too out of the three. I like that they experiment with the swag. Sometimes they do a shirt, or socks or a mug, thats good, makes it different and I for one appreciate variety.

Now some rare few have obtained the sacred four fitty feat. And with that being said, the raddest fitty of the state is the Naked Indian ride. Why? Well its free and I made it up... email me cause its next weekend and if you wanna join you got to ask,


take care,

Laters,

The NaKeD InDiaN

DaNGeH WiLL RoBinSOn!!!

As a rider, one who ventures into the unknown and one who takes his kid with him into he unknown, its important to know when to realize that there is a significant opportunity for danger.

What is Danger when you are riding a bike?

Traffic of course should always be considered.

Course conditions, steep drops, technical terrain as well.

BUT weather can be the biggest danger of all. Hypothermia, heat Stroke can all affect core temperature and potentially cause a life threatening situation.

And When we set forth this past Saturday to add some singletrack to the the Huracan route we fully expected rain, around 12 pm to 2pm and instead got rain about 9 miles into the ride. With no sun in sight, no warmth for miles what do you do.

1. We assessed what we did have. Two strong riders one 11 year old boy, two equipped to handle the conditions, one in cotton save for his socks.
2. We made a plan.
3. I insulated my wool shirt with paper and asked Rob who had 27 gears at his disposal, and the stronger rider of us two to tow Kai back to the start. We called a ride abandon, we figured after wading across the river there was no way we could get dry and handle the cold without the appropriate gear. I was unprepared.
4. Execute plan. As Rob prepared the Tow rope with Kai, I took off setting the fastest 85% tempo I could muster. I gave clear instructions to the team to keep going even if they caught and passed me. "I told Rob, get him back there, and get him warm."

1 hour, soaking wet in the cold for Kailan was totally manageable. But anything longer than that could potentially cause a drop in body temperature and a risk for a serious 911 emergency. The decision we made was the right one.

Team Kai and Rob, were not able to pass me, which was good, so we stayed together till the end. And once back in the car I warmed him up with a thick blanket and we called the day early, both agreeing that during the hard effort that we just mustered, we did not feel any cold, and truthfully I was not cold, I rode my ass off to get back, and every time that Rob would pull up next to me I would stand up and pedal, just to mess with him a little. Hey, towing is hardwork and I would like some first person point of view recognition on how hard what I do with my boy is, LMFAO!!!!

Even though it was a plug pulled ride, the adventure was still in the ride... Read this carefully folks, if your ever trapped in this situation, make the right call.

Later on that day, after that gigantic blob of precipitation did its business across the state, the temps were right where they should have been, when we were supposed to be mapping, o well right....

You know what they say about Florida don't you.... If you don't like the weather... Wait ten minutes... It'll change...

Take Care,


Laters,

The NaKeD InDiaN

HoW To TrAiN a DrAgOn

Two is the number of Florida State Champs that I have trained.

One was LIL NI who won the State Championship for the 6 to 8 year olds, even completing the season with a broken arm after a post ride accident in Tom Brown Park.

The Other was LIL'R NI in the 3 to 5 year old class.

Huge props to Dave Berger from Gone Riding dot com. Not only did he Literally give birth to the sport of competitive off road racing in the state, but, He helps families create memories that will last a lifetime and then some.

Recently I have decided that I wanted to give a gift to LIL'R NI. Give him the opportunity, if he so chooses, to become a singletrack samurai like his father. I am giving him the chance to enjoy and cherish the joy of off road cycling and touring and the special unique opportunities that it manifest for the participant.

I feel deep passion for the task of cycling. The whole reason I started single speeding and fixed gear shredding was to refine my skills. And I can tell that Kai Tai sees that. He asked me one day, when was he gonna start riding a fixie. I told him, soon enough.

We train Dragons in my house. AND the first epiteth of Dragon training requires a rider to prove mastery of one chainring and one cog before even bothering or attempting to master 18 or 27 or 30(goodness we are up to that many gears on a bike now arent we).

The ethos runs deep. The dedication unique. And I think Kai is learning to appreciate what his adventurous Daddy does for FUN. Like 200 plus miles over a Saturday and a Sunday.

SO it came to pass that another glorious weekend had reached its maturity and I didnt have any ride plans made so I decided Kai Tai Needed to go work on his tech skills. Afterall to be a true Singletrack Samurai you have to be able to ride anything, and comfort zones are meant to be explored and dominated all the while avoiding injury, cause injuries are not allowed.

The plan was to ride Santos, Edward, Kai and I, and work the yellows, then the blues and then some reds. Not a long ride, but a skills ride, a confidence building a ride, a ride to learn to find the flow.

And thats what we did, we had a lot of fun, I had to hold my breath in some moments as I would look over my shoulder and suggest to Kai that maybe he should dismount for the sake of safety, but NO, he was rolling some insane stuff that day. They both were. Edward caught the brunt of a couple of good NASCARESQUE crashes, which he shook off but definetely raised his awareness level.







Enjoy the clips!!!

Take Care,

Laters,

The NaKeD InDiaN

TraNsFLoRiDa TuRkEy TriP

(First and foremost, Huge apologies. This blog has become like a Flashback that you see in TV shows, so just imagine and enjoy flashing back to a couple of weeks back)

The dream was to take Kai and I across the state.
The Day before I thought it would be smart to start on the west and ride east, thus saving Edith less of a drive on Sunday to come and fetch us from the finish. Less of a drive to get home and begin the rest from the long journey.
So Impulsively I went with it.
That morning we were all packed up and loaded up. Chris Plesko, famos Single Speed Record holder for the Tour Divide, generously lent us a tent so that Kai and I could keep warm in the Florida chill we would surely contend with over the 3 day adventure. My plan was 65 miles or so a day. I figure, Kai might not be strong enough, but with a rope and some patience I was strong enough for two.
Talk about the mother of all Late starts. The day before that Faithful Friday was Turkey Day and ya know the deal with Turkey day, you celebrate, you eat, you drink and your merry. And we did all that.
So 1130 we roll to the Western most terminus of the soon to be famous Trans Florida Mountain Bike Route. Quickly the Bikes are strapped, Quickly we say our good byes, and my sweet Dear Friend Edita watches us pedal away with the plan to be, to see each other sometime on the east coast on Sunday.
I am blessed that LiL'R NI and I have such a Jovial and trusting relationship. As Soon as we Pull into the parking lot we could smell the salt air. The Terrain around here, was flat, but Rocky, Huge Limestone rocks abound, remnants of the attempt to cut Florida in Half.
We made quick time to the beach, we had to pedal out and back, somethign I dont necessarily like, but something that was totally necessary to get to the coast.
We documented the ceremony of the sacred wheel dips, Jovial as always, joking and making laughs, two videos and one pic later we are off.
The Plan was to two Kailan early so he could save his energy for the 28 or so miles of Santos singletrack that we had to deal with later in the day. Not cause LIL'r NI requested it, but because I was planning on strategy.
The towing was unexpectadly heavy. My legs were unexpectadly Brick like. I was unsure about why I was having to put in so much effort. Why it was so tough. Later I would find out why.
BUT, in the time being, I had no idea, and I figured it was lack of fitness or lack of pedal time or the stiff head wind that was constant in the direction. But Kai willingly agreed. We navigated the Technical Jeep Road that was finishing up that Florida Barge Canal Section when we got to the "sometimes Mandatory Hike a bike", we heard a siren. Now normally I would call this a " imminent bomb invasion alarm", and I explained what it was, and kept pushing on.
Some fence hops and head wind later, we were on a road heading east, watching an enormous storm cloud flanking us from the north. AND this sucker was big, both us impressed with its size.
I was concerned, I had not necessarily waterproofed my gear, I had not gone through the impressive pre care of bagging each and invdividual piece in left over wal mart bags how I usually do.
So I pedaled faster, hoping that along the way I would come upon a church or a shelter or something with a roof overhang that we could hide at. But as well time was an issue, we were already about 4 hours behind my manifest departure time, something in a way that I regretted, but in others I did not.
And as we turned from the last dirty section to the next dirty section, there it came the storm had caught us and started reminding us of its damp existance. I hung a quick right and found a tree to dive under quickly to make the adjustments to avoid soaking our clothes.
AND we got prepared and navigated the sandy road next to the railroad track. Pushed through the vanishing double track, then back onto Deltona Blvd (non paved sandy version of my east coast hometown), and eventually, got on the bikes to pedal again.
The most curious thing happens on the west coast of Florida. There is literally another version of my hometown, with identical road names, with more hills. Every downhill was a chance to rest, I could feel the work I was demanding from my body, I was tired, so tired, but we had to keep going.
Before long, the up and down road gave way to a convenience store, where I stocke up on candy bars and batteries. The day was getting late, and I knew for sure that darkness would catch us along the Santos segment of the greenway.
We stopped at Stumpknockers to feast and refuel, had plenty of laughs and good food and filled up on water, before we took off, still with daylight, heading towards the Haltapa Hell track.

LILR NI: " Papa, why do they call it the Helltrack"
ME: " Well, Kailehr, most of the time, its way more hellacious then what your riding now".
AS Lucky as LiL'r NI is, it was not that bad, good easy riding.
Kai proclaimed as we crossed Haltapa, how it seemed like we were in the middle of nowhere, and it was true, we were.
As darkness encroached to set a new standard for the day, we made it to Pruitt Memorial. I never ride just by it, I always stop to check it out. I mean,where else in Florida can you find a spot with HUGE boulders arranged in a stone henge like pattern. I cant think of many so I never pass it by, stopping to remember the pilot who died.
Kai Tai was cracked, wide open. I could tell that I was going to have to help him alot to get through to Santos. People were expecting us, but my partner and team mate were my priority, nothing else, so I let him rest till he was ready.
And even though there was no rush, he decided to get up. We went on to navigate 1/4 mile of dirty soft horseshoe poxed trail. As we pedaled along the old Limestone road, I told Kai my battle stories from being out that way so many times. The stories about the Boars, truthfully Kai's Fatigue was running deep and I was doing all I could to keep his mind off his tiredness.
Eventually we made 200, then made the start of the singletrack that would start our long awaited skinny trail journey into Santos. I engaged the Rope, there seemed to be so much climbing that I was bewildered. The good news was that Finally my body felt warmed up to the task, and the pain from earlier was gone.
We Got to the point on the Yellow where we cross 484, when Kai lost his front wheel in the sand, fell down, and I was yanked backwards off my bike, Ripping my Osprey Packs tow tab in the process.
No one got hurt, we crossed the road and got into the beginning of Nayl's and I had to put air into my rear tire which I suspected was out of Sacred Stans Goop. As I pumped air into the valve, my bike fell over, ripping the valve and forcing me to put in my only tube.
I made a quick change and set off to ride some seriously fun trail with Kai. It was exciting, for us both. Our faces were stretched from Huge endorphin fueled smiles as Kai was enamoured by the twisting, dropping and steep rising trail.
It was scary for me to see his bike disappear into a deep crevace, but then elation as He shot out the other side, no brakes, at times, losing control and overshooting the sharp turns.
But he was getting tired, and when we finally got out of Nayl's trail, Kai collapsed on the Limestone road, gasping for air, desperately trying to catch his breath, mixed a little bit with tears from frustration and exhaustion.
There was a clearly visible tug of war going on his little mind. He wanted to get to Santos that day, but he was so tired. I encouraged him to lay, encouraged him to rest, told him we could easily make camp there. But he wanted to keep going. I offered the rope, he declined. And we continued.
As we came close to the end and where almost at the Landbridge Trailhead parking lot. Kailan was panicked. He was out of breath and could not catch it, which was scaring him and causing him to panic and initiating a vicious cycle.
I was scared, but trying to stay strong for him. I thought he might of been having an Asthma attack although he had never been diagnosed with it. Donnie showed up and we both tried to calm him down so he could steady his breathing, but it wasn't stopping, and out of shear fear for my lil man's life I called 911.
After what seemed an eternity in time, the Ambulance pulled up. I admire the hard work that these men do, but sometimes their dismissive attitude is annoying.
"O he's moving Plenty of air" He proclaimed.
And he was right, but that was not stopping the gasping and panic stricken attack.
Donnie is a man of action and went on to the task of stashing the bikes. I grabbed our clothes and we rolled out, on our way to the hospital.
Minutes after being on the Ambulance, Kai was calm and breathing fine. And after filling out paper work we were now citizens of the waiting room.
I asked Kai if he was better. He said yes. I asked him if he wanted to see the doctor, He said No. So we left.
Why bother waiting...
Down the street we went, made our way to Duncan Dee to sip on some warm Coffee. Donnie came and got us quick and he invited us back to his home to rest and relax. We accepted of course, Donnie is the Salt of the Earth and a pretty bad ass cyclist as well.
After some conversation, we cleaned our legs a little, and fell asleep on Donnie's couches.
That next morning, we got up early and pedaled to Greenway Cycles. Kailan was done, sore, and tired, but still in good spirits. The trip was over early and not long after our arrival, Edith showed up to pick us up and take us back home.
You know everything happens for a reason. That next morning I woke up feeling sick as a dog, if we would have continued I probably would have had to pull the plug as I was so Ill that Sunday and so under the weather, the next couple of days proved to be a task as I had to deal with my illness and work, and do all the other things I have to do.
Since the ride I have practiced with Kai some techniques to avoid him having a hyper ventilation attack again. The plan is to prepare better for the ride, do a couple of more small overnighters before we go again. That first day was tough and those 65 miles proved to be hard and challenging on us both. Next time, we will make it across together.

Take Care,

Laters,

The NaKeD InDiaN