Fat Pursuing

Today I registered for the Fat Pursuit, the fatbike race that Jay Petervary stages in eastern Idaho each winter. I was registrant number two for the long race – a 200 mile affair that starts on January 6.

After completing the 120-mile distance in 2015, I had to skip the race this year, which only stoked my fire to go back in 2017. Now the race is on the horizon again – 158 days away. It’s hard to overstate how much I’m excited to train, to prep my bike and gear, to travel out there, to see the mountains again, to hang out with race friends, and to ride those amazing trails on the Buffalo.

The Buffalo in its summer garb

I’m gonna party like it’s 1999

Two quick Prince stories.

I think the first time I really liked a song of his was when I started hearing “Raspberry Beret” on the radio while traveling by bus to a Catholic youth camp in Wisconsin in 1985. Prince was big by then, and I knew some of the classics off “Purple Rain” and earlier albums, but “Raspberry Beret” stood out. “If it was warm/she would be wear much more” seemed so *dirty* to twelve-year-old me. And to this day I sing “In through the out door out door” whenever I see a door marked for exit only. Wait, was that line dirty too?

Second story: On New Year’s Eve 1998, Shannon and I went to a party thrown by my grad school friend Michael and his then-girlfriend Julie. It was probably the first time I’d ever had whiskey – knowing Michael, probably Maker’s Mark. It hit me like a ton of bricks.

A drink for Prince

At midnight, I was still tipsy when Julie put Prince’s “1999” on the stereo, because can there be a more perfect moment than NYE 1998 to sing along to “I’m gonna party like it’s nineteen ninety-nine”? No, there cannot. Listening to the song, my buzzing mind went back to that bus trip in 1985. Two loops of my life tied together with Prince.

I’ve still never seen *Purple Rain*, though.

Parenting by Bike

If there is one downside to my love of winter cycling – and there isn’t – it would be that my girls can’t join me out on the snowy trails. So as bummed as I am to see winter go (especially a short, mild winter like this one), I’m equally happy to go riding again with the girls, and even more so after we had so much fun last summer.

My spring cycling fever spiked on Friday when I learned that Northfield’s in-town mountain bike trails were scheduled to open for the season on Saturday.

But! When I told the girls this news, Julia said that she was too nervous to ride the trails again – and specifically that she was afraid of falling off the bridges at the trail. (This happened once last year, so it’s a semi-real fear.) I didn’t say much except that I hoped she’d change her mind, and went riding by myself on Saturday.

Sure enough, this morning she announced that she did indeed want to go riding – which made Genevieve upset because she couldn’t come along, being already committed to going to a party. Kids!

I calmed Vivi down by promising to take them next weekend to a nearby mountain bike park (what a burden!), and then Julia and I hit the trails.
Shooting the gap

She did great, riding the bridges without any problems and re-conquering several features that she’d learned last year. She even insisted on posing for a picture:
Semi-scenic overlook

Altogether we rode ten miles in about 90 minutes, which is a great first outing of the season. In addition to the planned trip to other trails next weekend, we decided at dinner to sign up for a short gravel race near Northfield in May, and are thisclose to convincing the non-cyclist in the family to let them do a MTB race in the fall. Yay bikes!

A Good Winter’s Riding

My winter of racing ended with Saturday’s Fatbike Frozen Forty race at the Elm Creek trails in Champlin, Minnesota. I did this race in 2013 (my first-ever fatbike race) and in 2014, and found 40+ miles of snowy singletrack to be just a little beyond my abilities. This year I did the race as a relay with my friend Dan, who’s new to fatbiking but is a killer on the trails. Alternating our laps, we turned in some insanely consistent times: Dan did our first and third laps in 1:11.01 and 1:11.02 respectively; I did laps two and four in 1:11.48 and 1:10.39.Not bad, and good for third place out of 13 relay teams! We await our bronze medals.

With half as much riding to do at the race, I was able to enjoy the singletrack a lot more, and even to think, at points, that I am actually getting better at that kind of riding. I only had one serious spill, one of those Schrödinger’s crashes where you’re both vertical and horizontal at the same time. No damage to body, kit, or bike, so it was fine.

Apart from that, I managed to maintain a decent pace over what’s, to me, some very tricky trail: with plenty of tight corners and some off-camber climbs and descents. I even enjoyed Grizzland, the “advanced” back section of the Elm Creek trails, that I found, frankly, terrifying the last times I raced here. I’m not yet smooth as a singletrack rider, I did do a lot less of that herky-jerky riding where I smash the brakes and then accelerate. More flow, more go!

Altogether, I did five races this winter:

December 19: the Solstice Chase (26 miles) in St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin

January 9-10: the Tuscobia (160 miles) in Rice Lake, Wisco

January 16: the Snow Crush (15 miles) in Faribault, Minnesota

January 25-26: the Arrowhead (135 miles) in northern Minnesota

February 13: the FFF (22 miles)

That averages out to be a race every 11 days, and 358 miles of racing! Not bad. Between my arbitrary first day of my winter training on September 1 and the FFF yesterday, I did 1,681 miles of riding (commuting, training, and racing), an average of 10 miles a day.

Spring, summer, and fall 2016 will be quite a bit quieter than the last eight weeks. I’m only planning to do four races before October. Perhaps most, I’m looking forward to trying to finish two mountain bike races that I didn’t last year: the Cheq 100 in northern Wisconsin in June and the Maah Daah Hey 100 in the Badlands of North Dakota in August. In September, I’ll do the fifth and last running of the Inspiration 100 gravel race in Garfield, Minnesota, and then the Marji Gesick 100 mountain-bike race in the Upper Peninsula – a new race for me, and probably the toughest of the four. But hell, I have 222 days to train, and a still-new-to-me Salsa El Mariachi MTB to train and race on!

Then the winter will come around again. I am already excited to travel out west again to try Jay P’s Fat Pursuit in Idaho in early January, tackling the new 200-mile option. I’ll also do the Arrowhead 135 again in late January, and I’m jazzed about a new “unsupported” way to race the event, as announced yesterday by the race directors:

How do you make one of the toughest races on earth harder?? We will offer the option to race totally self supported for prior Arrowhead finishers or those with prior approval from Race Director. Unsupported racers will check in at checkpoints but will not be allowed food, water, or time to warm up at checkpoints. Unsupported racers will receive a unique finisher award.

Our vision is that an unsupported racer leaves International Falls and gets no help and stays outside until the finish line. No purchases, no Melgeorge drop bag, no hotel, no food or water from other racers (emergencies would be the exception.) Just stop at checkpoints long enough to register.

Sounds like a good challenge!

Arrowhead Race Report – Arrowhead III: Revenge of the Snows

I was lucky to have Salsa Cycles publish my Arrowhead 135 race report on their “Culture” blog!

Arrowhead III: Revenge of the Snows

They wove in a bunch of my own photos as well as some much better shots taken by Mike Riemer from Salsa, like this one.

Early On (Photo by Mike Riemer)
Early On (Photo by Mike Riemer)

13.5 Quick Thoughts on the Arrowhead

The Arrowhead Trail, near Kabetogama Lake
The Arrowhead Trail, near Kabetogama Lake

1. It’s an outrageous, unearned privilege to be able to do a race like the Arrowhead. I can’t think about this fact too much or I’ll start dehydrating through my tear ducts.

2. When the winner of the race says, “It was the hardest conditions I have ridden in with such an intense pace,” it must have been a damn hard race.

3. There must be a time and a place for margarita-flavored Shot Bloks, but the Arrowhead is neither. #yuck

4. On the other hand, sliced salami is a delicious and nutritious race snack at any time!

5. Next year I’m not sharing my Red Bulls with anyone! I need that crap. It’s magical.

6. I’m sure some egghead can explain the fancy science behind ibuprofen, but that crap, too, is magical.

7. I love the “racer against the trail” feeling I get leaving Melgeorges (checkpoint two, at mile 72) to tackle the hardest section of the course.

8. I’m almost happier to reach the last checkpoint – Skipulk at mile 111 – than the finish, because if you can get there, you only have 24 miles to go. The finish is more a relief than anything.

9. I think that with more and better training, I have a real shot at a top-ten finish next year.

10.Some carbon rims would help, cough cough.

11. I also need to cut my time at the checkpoints down to under an hour, total. That’s what fast racers do. (Wearing a wristwatch and starting the timer each time I hit a checkpoint was a good reminder to keep my stays short.)

12. Riding bikes often humbles me, but watching Tracey Petervary and Jill Martindale ride away from me in the last leg of the race was humbling, awe-inspiring, and motivating. I couldn’t hold either of their wheels, but my weak attempts to chase first T-Race (who won) and then Jill (who finished second) did speed up those endless straightaways after Skipulk.

13. It’s a question as to which racer was tougher this year: Mike Brumbaugh, who skied twenty miles after breaking a ski pole and then finished the race after using PVC pipe and strapping tape to fix the pole; Jim Wilson, who was the last biker to finish, in 55:28; or Sveta Vold, who was the third-place female biker and who stopped during the race to nurse her new baby and pump milk!

13.5. Hungry.

Word Girls

Being someone who makes a living with words, I’m very happy to see that my girls are word-lovers and lovers of manipulating words, too. Tonight was classic: I spent a half hour quizzing Julia for the middle-school spelling bee tomorrow night (she’s so nervous! so excited!) – infrastructure, esoteric, boycott, kaftan – and later fifteen minutes giving Vivi “hard words” to look up in the dictionary she got for Christmas: hibernal, speculative, theoretical, paschal, vernal

Pre-Race Day

God, I love the day before races. The anticipation is so wonderfully energizing. The day usually includes some travel, often with friend, which is almost always great because I love traveling and friends, especially for a good reason like getting to a race.

But the day before a race also includes race-y stuff like eating and drinking right, checking in for the event, attending the pre-race meeting, and of course hanging out with other racers and volunteers and such.

If there’s time, the day before also might also include a bit of riding on the course – stretching the legs, getting a sense of the trail, and enjoying the scenery that race-day focus will obscure, like these pix from my pre-rides with the Marks at the Fat Pursuit in Idaho last January

An hour's trail reconnoiter with Mark S (front) and Mark S (back), here heading west with Sawtelle Mountain in the distance. #fatpursuit2015 #salsamukluk #fatbike #backyardadventure #outsideisfree #crushsnow

and with Galen, Ben, and Tim at the Maah Daah Hey trail in North Dakota in July.

Maah Daah Hey pre-ride
Maah Daah Hey pre-ride

My trip to the Tuscobia was less involved than either of those race trips, requiring just a short drive to western Wisconsin. But I jammed to my own music, sipped some good coffee, soaked up the views of rolling snowy hills, thought through the race, and stopped for a photo:

Steel Bison in Dallas, Wisconsin
Steel Bison in Dallas, Wisconsin

Once I got to Rice Lake, Wisconsin, I checked in at the hotel, ran a quick errand, and checked in at the race HQ, then headed up the trail for an hour’s ride. The conditions were very good, so I had a nice time and definitely built up a bank of good feeling for the next day.

Feelin' Good about the Tuscobia Trail
Feelin’ Good about the Tuscobia Trail

Afterwards, I met up with my friend Ben (with whom I went on an epic trip to the first Fat Pursuit in 2014). We hung out for a while before we hit the registration and gear check, had a great dinner (pizza, of course), and then attended the racers’ meeting. Back at our hotel early in the evening, we set up our bikes for the race – a process I love, love, love even though it’s a little bit maddening, since it involves both the pleasant routine of getting all my equipment on the bike, but also trying to guess about new ways to pack the bike. Having Ben in the same room was great because the guy knows his business. (Literally: he runs a bike shop.) By 9 p.m. we had everything ready for the start. One more sleep till the race!

The Buffalo, Ready to Roll
The Buffalo, Ready to Roll

Trail Magic

One of the best things about the kind of long-distance riding that I do is the phenomenon of “trail magic” – surprising, wonderful occurrences that happen at just the right moment to hikers, runners, cyclists, and others of our ilk.

The classic bit of trail magic is getting food or water when you need it most, sometimes from another competitor or, even better, from a bystander whom fate has sent across your path. Another common, if less nourishing, kind of trail magic is having someone knowledgeable give the directions that get you un-lost.

I’ve encountered trail magic in many of my races, especially the difficult winter ones, and honestly I’m happily anticipating more trail magic at this weekend’s race, the Tuscobia in northwest Wisconsin. I’m racing this event instead of my beloved Fat Pursuit in Idaho, which is also happening this weekend. (I just couldn’t spend the time or and money on that trip this year.)

Both times I’ve raced the Fat Pursuit, I’ve been charmed by trail magic. Here are two anecdotes about trail magic during the FP, excerpted from Don’t Get Froze, my soon-to-be-finished book on my fatbike racing.

The first incident happened during my unsuccessful race in 2014. Having been riding for about 24 hours, I’d just left the race’s second checkpoint, in the small town of West Yellowstone, Montana. I was preparing myself for the climb to the race’s high point:

Between the stopping and starting and the increasing altitude, the morning’s riding began to feel like an interval workout in slow motion, which only deepened my fatigue and led to more difficulties. A few hours outside of West, I stopped at a three-way intersection and labored to figure out the correct turn while three snowmachiners stood nearby, smoking cigarettes and watching me. I finally made my decision and headed off, almost immediately hitting a screaming fast downhill. After barely keeping the Beast upright, I stopped at the bottom to motivate myself for the inevitable hike-a-bike up the hill on the other side. Before I started that trudge, I checked my phone, and found a text from the race director, telling me I’d gone off course. WTF? I wasn’t off course! What was he talking ab—

Looking again at the map, I saw that oh, yes, I was off course, by a couple miles. I hiked back up the hill I had just descended to find a giant animal on the trail. Cow? No, Clydesdale! No, moose! The animal smelled me and lumbered into the woods, vanishing magically into the trees. Judging by how many of massive hoofprints pockmarked the trail, the moose must have been just a few seconds behind me as I rode over the hill.

The second incident happened about halfway through my successful race in 2015, as I rode toward the second checkpoint:

Though I had hoped to get to West Yellowstone in the daylight, the sun set when I was an hour or more outside of town. Much of that riding would be descent, I knew, so I could expect the easiest riding since dropping down to Checkpoint 1. Still, I wanted to take a break, to be off my bike for a bit.

I must have angered the gods who had rewarded me earlier in the day, because six miles outside West, as I pedaled hard down a long straight descent, my chain clinked alarmingly and jumped off the cassette. I slammed on my brakes, worried about damage to the chain or the spokes. When I beamed my headlamp onto the Buffalo’s rear wheel, the chain was gone. Disaster! It had fallen off somewhere on the descent. Ten feet ago? Ten yards ago? A hundred yards ago? I cursed, laid the bike down, and started walking back up the hill.

The gods were only teasing! The broken chain was lying in the snow just a few yards up the trail, a silvery ribbon amid the black shadows and white snow. I picked it up and walked back down to the bike, mentally reviewing the process of fixing a broken chain. I found my repair kit (left pocket of my frame bag, next to the wind vest), set the spare master link on the Buffalo’s front tire, and got to work. As I wiggled the broken link out of the chain, a trail-grooming machine came rumbling up the trail. The driver stopped. “What’s up?” Crouching in his spotlights, I shouted back, “Broken chain!” He grimaced sympathetically. “Fucking chain! I’m Mike. Need any tools?” I told Mike I couldn’t accept any help, and anyhow I was already almost done. He stood nearby, chatting with me as I finished installing the master link. “Mind if I run my dog?” he asked. I didn’t, so Mike let his gorgeous pointer out of the groomer’s cab. “His name’s Domino.”

Domino sniffed me, inspected my bike, and then ran off up the hill. The trailside conversation and the dog made me even happier that even this problem, the biggest one of the race, was turning out to be eminently solvable. I whooped with glee when I stood the Buffalo back up, spun the pedals, and saw that the chain held. “Nice job,” Mike said. “Enjoy the rest of the race!” We shook hands and I climbed back onto the bike for the rest of the pleasingly uneventful drop into West Yellowstone.

I hope all my friends who are racing the FP this year have some trail magic (and maybe even meet Domino!) and that all of us at the Tuscobia do too.

Finally, Riding on Snow

I’ve been lucky to be able to ride on snow every day since we came back from our Christmas trip to Moorhead. We arrived home on Monday about an hour before the forecasted snow arrived. About 24 hours of steady snowfall transformed the landscape and created some excellent riding conditions.

Monday night, a short jaunt through the local MTB trails.
Sechler in the Snowstorm

Tuesday, 7 hours and 58 miles of tough grinding on the snowy gravel, including some hike-a-bike and a couple crashes.
Oxford Mill Road, Cannon Falls

Big Woods State Park, Nerstrand

Wednesday, just a commute to work, but with a little extra riding for fun.
Locked Up

Thursday, New Year’s Eve, a nighttime ride on the MTB trails and a stop for cocoa when it was midnight in Amazonian Brazil.
Night Stop

Friday, New Year’s Day, a fun outing on some of the snowmobile trails outside of town.
Ride to the Sun

Hidden Trail

Saturday, after loading the bike with most of my race kit, another cruise on different snowmobile trails.
Northfield Township

Sunday, more of the same!?

Twenty Sixteen Resolutions

I love New Year’s Day. It’s probably my second-favorite holiday, after Thanksgiving. Like Thanksgiving, NYD is centrally about getting together with people you like. Christmas is also about “family and friends,” but for me, its religious overtones detract from its other pleasures, and then there’s the massive weight of gifts – getting and giving, but also the gross, insane commercialism of gifts and all the other crap that goes with Christmas.

Beyond its social aspect, I like that New Year’s Day allows for and even encourages efforts at renewal and change. It’s absurd that we tie these efforts to a particular, purely arbitrary date, of course, but I am a sucker for the way a new year seems like the right moment to do things better.

This year, I really enjoyed reading a wide array of friends’ resolutions for 2016, and they inspired me to work up my own list, which also incorporates the “do a little better” idea that’s cropped up in articles like this one on the NY resolution phenomenon.

So, in no particular order:

Train and race hard. I can’t control my finishing times or places – or even, as I learned in 2015 – whether I finish, but I can control how hard I prepare for races and how hard I work during them. I’m going to work hard at all my training (on the bike and in the gym) and racing this year, aiming to finish every event I enter. (So far, I have eight on the docket: Tuscobia 150 (1/9), Snow Crush (1/16), Arrowhead 135 (1/25), Fatbike Frozen Forty (2/13), Chequamegon 100 (6/11), Maah Daah Hey 100 (8/6), Inspiration 100 (9/10), and Marji Gesick 100 (9/24).)

Finish my fatbike-racing book, Don’t Get Froze. This thing has grown from some blog posts on my 2014 races to a decently-long essay that also covers my 2015 races. Now that my big winter 2016 races are right around the corner, I might as well weave them in, too, right? I hope to finish the book by my birthday in April.

Make more art. The book is part of this resolution, and I am going to again try to write a blog post each day in 2016, but I really need to foster my creativity in other ways. Taking photos is really fun, and I love sharing photos on Instagram and Facebook (and of course seeing others’), but I’d like to get back to doing more drawing. I think a Bison a Day would be a fun project!

Consume more art. Here too, the internet is great (Instagram, many Tumblrs, Vimeo, etc.), but I have a ridiculous backlog of music. I think I can listen to one “new” album a week throughout 2016 without buying anything new!

Be more grateful. I need to do a better job of thanking the people around me for all the ways they make my life better. I also need to record what I’m grateful for, either publicly in this blog or privately in a journal.

Be more politically active. I like reading and posting political stuff, but in 2015, I found a lot of satisfaction in seriously engaging with several issues. With the presidential election looming over 2016, the time is right to expand that engagement with time, effort, and money.

Beautiful Bikes

The thing about bikes – or at least one thing about bikes – is that they’re so pretty. I’ve had occasion over the last few days to reflect on this twice.

Friday, I stripped the Buffalo down to its dryland racing setup for the Solstice Chase. It looked gorgeous, in my opinion, after the race. A little mud only added to the overall look: clean lines, bare titanium tubes, big black winter tires, and two red bags (one fore, one aft) for a little color. The machine was of course as functional as it was beautiful.

Post-race Buffalo

After that short race, I figured I might as well set up the bike for my longer winter races. So Tuesday night, I decked the bike with bags of nylon, fa la la la. I love the way the Buffalo looks in its gray-and-blue [Porcelain Rocket](http://www.porcelainrocket.com/store/) bags, and putting the winter gear on the bike is as meaningful a marker of the seasons for me as decorating the Christmas tree is for weirdoes.
The Buffalo in the Snow

If anything the Buffalo is *more* fun to ride when fully loaded – though yes it’s a little silly to ride a loaded fatbike to work and on errands. However, I should point out you can fit a whole six pack in the seat pack and another in the frame pack.

Had I known that the winter kit would change the weather, I’d have put it on sooner: we got a bit of snow not 24 hours after the bags went on! The bike can’t wait to race on snow again. We’ve got 17 days till Tuscobia, 33 till Arrowhead.

Dad-Bod Positivity

We’re eating dinner. I tell the girls that I put up their school pictures in my office and that I love them both. Each girl says she doesn’t really like her photo. I say that’s too bad because they’re great shots.

2015

I ask whether they like the way they look in real life. They both say they do, and I add that I like the way I look too. Julia looks at me incredulously and says, “Well, you obviously have bad judgment there.”