Hmm..time for a new one.

I hate pavement.

After the race a few of us hooked up for the descent and made it to the pavement without incident. With the skinny slicks I was running, my bike had a ton of zip on the paved part so I decided to go on a flyer and did. Once things leveled out a bit I sat up and soft peddled to wait for the rest of the group. While I was doing this I noticed a familiar mop on the side of the road. The mop belonged to J.B. Frith and he was stopped with his bike propped on the fence. Fearing the worst(little did I know) I braked and asked him if he was ok. I found out much later that he was just waiting for a ride after shooting the mountain on his downhill bike(tank) and about the time I noticed the armor standing next to the fence I heard a yell and a short tire peel and then I got hit HARD from behind! The bike ran very quickly up the left side of my frame and I heard the skewer scrape and then stop as it hit my foot knocking it forward. At the same time I felt a sharp pain in my left arm as it got knocked forward, and then the rest of him came down on me like a ton of bricks...well bob anyway. I was still moving maybe 15mph when he hit me but the differential was great and we both flew a ways before BAM! I remember seeing him tumbling beside me and the next thing I know there's a very blurry looking lady asking me if I'm ok. I remember saying no. Turns out he had also gotten distracted by the familiar mop and didn't realize how slow I was going. The lady turned out to be J.B.'s mom with their gigantic suv and she started damage control efforts right away. Jerry had blown his legs during the climb and was riding with them. (He's gotten pretty good at showing up for the aftermath of my wrecks) Bob was very apologetic as we took stock of the damage to our bikes and ourselves in the immediate aftermath. His bike had an obviously trashed front wheel and mine wouldn't roll but that turned out to be just a brake spring. I thought I was going to ride on in but several people convinced me to leave my bike and ride back in the suv. Bob said he'd stay with the bikes while they took me in. Mrs. Frith said she'd go back for Bob and the bikes. I was bleeding from several different holes by the time I squeezed into the front seat with the ice chest and my sag bag I had left with them at the top. I got blood all over the place but she didn't mind since she had done similar with a head cut a week or two previous and so the stains would just blend. I didn't find out till much later that my brain damage jokes weren't misplaced. When I got home I did a real assessment of the damage. I had road rash on my shoulder, hip, knee and side of my shin, a fairly deep hole in my knee (what rider doesn't?) one in my elbow, the tips of fingers 2 and 3 on my right hand had blood blisters, which thankfully popped during the crash, and my wrist was (and is)on fire. It wasn't till the next day that I went downstairs after work(yes work, that sucked) in search of a bottle of flexall and took stock of the equipment damage. The picture shows the back of my best fitting jersey (guess I'll have to lose some weight now :P), my wtb sst saddle has a new rip to go with the others it already had and the front derailleur isn't even close to lined up with the crank. I haven't worked on that yet so I'm not sure why. My lid did it's job well and will be forever enshrined on the shelf of honor next to my Bishop signed Derailers hat and various water bottles as it has a nasty dent in the side and a broken rib in the left side. Looks like I took a pretty good hit this time.
This was a nasty wreck but I've analyzed the flashbacks as they came to me or I remembered/rationalized the imagery and it's just not something that happens everyday. Everybody makes mistakes but the really good ones take teamwork. We were both about thinking nothing but good deeds to be done when it happened too. I know more people than I'd care to count who would have reacted very poorly to that accident and I'm glad to have the chance to ride with such great folks all around me.

Many thanks to Mrs. frith for coming to our rescue. It must have looked pretty horrific to come around the corner and see bodies and bikes everywhere like that.


I hate pavement.

Poor mountain for the rest of us

Hello from the top of Poor mountain! It's been a real thriller for me as I went toe to toe with my close competitor Barry Witt. I started out by trying to get a jump on the guys while on the pavement but they answered with a freight train like surge led by Todd Gilley. I got on the back of that pack for a bit but decided it was too hot for me and backed off. Just before we hit dirt I noticed that Barry had also backed off and was only a few places ahead of me in the crowd. When things started to get sorted out I kept my sights on him and aimed to be on his wheel at the dirt. At the first switch, I went wide while he hammered up the inside and gained a bit on me but I hadn't spiked my legs so we met up again a short while later. His gears were ghosting pretty bad and I suggested that he reset his rear wheel as I went by. He stopped to sort out the problem and I didn't see him for a while. I slowed a bit and actually thought about waiting for him but I noticed more riders close behind so I picked my pace back up and settled into a rhythm. After a couple more turns I heard somebody coming hard and Barry pulled in right in front of me and matched speed. He said there was another Clyde right behind us so we better pick it up a bit. We swapped places a couple more times along the way but I was losing time every time it got really rough and had to stand on it whenever it smoothed out. This proved fatal as near the top I started losing ground to him inch by inch until he had about a 50ft gap and got out of sight at the next switchback. I was pretty much cracked by the time I got around the corner but I was surprised to find him much closer and walking the bike!( He later reported that his back had tightened up to the point that it forced him off the bike) By this time the hill had also gotten quite steep and I could only turn the smallest gears. His walk was faster than my crawl and he moved ever so slowly away again. I tried everything to get my legs back into action but without rest they were not keeping up with acid production any more. I got of walked...his walk seemed a bit faster. I got back on and stood up. THat lasted about 10 seconds and gained me nothing. I walked some more. The guy behind us was starting to catch me so I decided to stop making all those transitions and just grind it out to save the position. I stopped for a full ten count and touched my toes and remounted the bike for one final good effort. After what I thought was the last switchback I stuffed it into the middle ring and stood up one more time and did a blood sprint that didn't last long but gave me what turned out to be more than enough lead on 5th place to finish in 4th. When the crowd started cheering I stood up again running on crowd fumes and sprinted over what I thought was the finish line. THe actual line was farther up so I got some bigger cheers out of them by pausing at the old line before finishing. Not bad for an old man with one leg to stand on, no beer on board, and not enough miles. I really miss those miles.

Nice job on snagging third place Barry!

Surprise!

I made a hardtail just for poor mountain using an old alu frame and some parts from my fsr which is all naked in the background. I had to use rim brake compatable wheels so I poked around and resurrected some from the scrap pile.It took a few tried to get the previously taco'ed rear to hold true under stress but I got it eventually. It weighed in at 25lbs even with those funky tires I found in a nashbar bargain bin for 10 bucks one day.