Are We There Yet?

It appears as though winter is finally starting to clamp down on our fair village. And if a mountain bike racer's schedule were a bag of Ruffles, December would be those greasy broken pieces at the bottom.







Not yet time to shift into the 44, but scraping the barrel.





Russ, the stunt double, working on the transmission.




As a SemiPro mountain bike racer with a 9-to-5, there are fewer things more frustrating then spending all day at work and watching the temps climb along with the sun; only to leave work as it's getting dark when the temps drop like the Ti-frickin-tanic...









I guess that's one of those "you know you're Pro" moments I've yet to experience: "you know you're Pro when you don't have to work for a living..." I take what saddle time I can get and live for the daylight of the weekends, in winter.








There's a lot to be said for neoprene booties this time of year. Oh, and by the way, when your Light and Motion on/off button starts blinking, your light is about to go out on you.
Simple lessons, people..........simple lessons...

Copious Amounts...ADDENDUM

A FEW ADDITIONS HERE:

I had one goal over this Thanksgiving weekend:

So with that, I was on a plane to San Fransisco. And when you're in central California with no bikes to ride for 5 days, there was only one thing to do:

Well, that, and take about a million pictures.

If I had a dime for every calorie I ate last week I'd be rich. But hey, base training starts with a solid foundation of food stores...

If you've noticed a rather stark change in the quality of my pictures lately, (I mean, why be modest...) I have a new secret weapon- but more on that some other time...

If you ask Gary Fisher, he'll tell you mountain biking was born on the slopes of Mt Tamalpais, below. Well, there, and Crested Butte. I'm a bit biased towards the latter, but I wasn't either place in the mid-seventies...

After all that, getting back to the familiar Colorado routine is always welcome. It's just gotten a lot darker since I left...

Lap 1: Victory; All Others: Agony...

If there's one thing I've learned in my racing career it's that there will always be someone faster than you. In the case of Sunday's Pikes Peak Velo Cyclocross Race, 'someone' equalled 'many.'







World Cup/Olympic Track racer and multi-time National Champion Colby Pearce (l) and winner of 7 National Mountain Bike Championships JHK (r) showing everybody how it's done in the Pro race...

Going against better judgement I decided it would be a good idea to go out as hard as I could on lap 1 and then hang on for dear life. So, jumping off the start line like a caged monkey on ritalin, I got a little bit of noteriety and won the premium for the fastest first lap.

'Captain Levity...'




After sealing that deal, and with the lungs screaming bloody murder, it didn't take long to get reeled back in like a little fish on a big hook.





One...two...three......JUMP...



For those who don't know, cyclocross is a 45-or-so minute all-out race on a short 1-2 mile off-road circuit. Barriers litter the course forcing the rider to dismount, jump over, remount, and power back up.









My valient (read: desperate) efforts would yield me 8th place and a trip straight to the pain cave - DO not pass go, DO not collect $200. I felt like I'd been bucked in the chest by a clydesdale- and that's one large horse.





The pain was only slightly dulled by the large contingent of friends cheering me on (thank you!) complete with a cooler of Budweiser which was made short work of.




Jess, feeling the love from former World Mountain Bike Champion, Alison Dunlap...







So, will I race cyclocross again? Absolutely - but I will say one thing: it's a good thing I'm a good mountain bike racer~

Crossing The Line In The Sand...

The Man called: he wants his Snowy River back...

Hard to believe that 6 months ago today I was in Moab, UT officially kicking off summer.

It's amazing how fast the calender of life flips pages. And up next on mine is this Sunday's cyclocross race...

I fear the boys will be dishing out extra servings of humble pie-- this ain't no 5000 ft of climbing 3 hour mountain bike race. It's 45 minutes of flat out power.

The good news is that I practiced the course this week and couldn't wipe the grin off my face. Stay tuned...

Blood Money...

Given enough time, every mountain biker is gonna crash. Just ask Jess, who knows better than most that those trees don't budge, despite her best efforts. Lucky for us, skin grows back.

Paying the piper, following a string of "look at me I'm a pinball!" type descents...




We were all feeling a little "Lindsey Lohan" as a result of the All-Colorado Beer Festival the night before.

I mean, any time there's an all-the-beer-you-can-drink type event things are bound to get outta hand. And any time I end up dancing to bluegrass for an hour and finally break out in the Hammer Dance the next day is bound to be the bargain basement of training rides.

But nothing gets you over the bad juju like good friends, good trails, and good weather. Well, 3 for 3 there...

Get Me The Heck....

Summer's back in Colorado and I finished the work week by springing from my cubicle like a scalded cat. After meeting with the team boss and owner of ProCycling for lunch I rushed to my bike like a mullet to a Slayer concert. And that's fast.



Aaaaaaaaaaahhh........life's natural prozac.

With my tires pumped up and my head in the fog of an endorphin buzz, I rang the opening bell on the weekend....

Going Where No Matt Has Gone Before...

Cyclocross is red-frickin-hot right now. For most bike racers the summer season is long enough but for those who like to extend it far beyond what's reasonable there is cyclocross.

Someone in Belgium way back a thousand years ago thought it would be fun to set up a road bike to "kind of" go off-road, and then set up a race course with a bunch of barriers to jump over, then waited for it to start snowing and said "go!"

Well the idea stuck, and I'll be racing my first 'cross race next weekend. A 16-year veteran of the mountain bike racing scene, I've managed to avoid these suffer-fests my whole career- but having a 'cross race here in town is far too convenient. And besides, I haven't puked since May and really miss it.

Don't get me wrong - riding my 'cross bike is simplistic bliss (yup- I have one) - it's fast, light, and for some reason, goes really well with the cold months. But, having never jumped a 'cross barrier in my life I'm preparing myself for some bloody shins. I'd better start practicing.....stay tuned....

Dropping Acid...LSD's

Just when you think it's safe to grab another slice and watch the game, your conscience has a way of jumping out in front of you.

November. The offseason is over as quickly as it began. It's been 2 months now since my last race and the time has flown by. November typically marks the start of the long phase of the offseason called base training.

It means racking up the LSD rides (Long, Slow, Distance). Time to recork the bottle, pack on the layers, and settle in on a long winter.



You know you've had a long ride when you outlast the charge on your iPod. Fortunately for my competition I have never done this. But winter is long and memories of podiums will serve as ample motivation...


So come with me - the road is long and the views are wide open...