....

2012-01-05T18:04:00.001-06:00

Let's go play in Bermuda!

2011-12-22T20:00:00.004-06:00

A new year and new adventures coming up next. Couldn't be more excited for the opportunity to ride with such a badass group of women next year with NOW and Novartis for MS

Every. Single. Day.

2011-11-28T09:13:00.007-06:00

It's not raining in Boone.

It's never raining in Boone.

That is, until you're finally free to ride.

Then it pours.

Check the radar- zoom out.

File this one under "mistakes you only make once"

I swear. Every. Single. Day.

2011-11-10T11:09:00.004-06:00

collegiate mountain bike nationals

2011-11-01T10:46:00.002-05:00

Across the country in 26 hours. 6 of us in a 13 passenger van. Roomy. Like a traveling band only muddier. Raced up a mountain to 10,000 feet. Crazy. Casualties: couple bikes. No people. Snacks did not survive. New Mexico desert at night. Saw a shooting star for the first time. Hope it wasn't a plane. 40 billion stars. 26 hours straight home. Dressed up as grimy kids in a van for halloween.

Craziest thing I've ever done for a bike race. Never have had more fun.

Real post soon! Gotta catch up on a weeks worth of school in three days before we leave again for UCI3

At least if I fail there'll be many more mtb nationals to come.

(kidding!)

catch-up

2011-10-24T09:33:00.007-05:00

A quick update before heading out to New Mexico with the Appalachian State Cycling Team:

CX season began over a month ago (woah..) but I've only done a couple races. USGP Madison was alot of fun, as always. Good fun meeting my new KCCX teammates and getting to play bikes with them in a midwestern thunderstorm.

To be honest, I didn't race as well as I had hoped. To be honest with myself, I was just plain falling out of shape.

And lesson learned- as everyone told me from the beginning- it's better to take a week off to heal an injury than to keep riding half assed on it for a month.

D'oh.

So, in early August I rode mountain bikes with a bunch of the ASU kids. They are all shredders. I am not. Fed up with myself for not holding their wheels on the descents, I tried. And failed. It was a brief act of courage (synonym-stooooopididy .

Because this is Clayton on a bike:

And this is me:

Eight stitches, and a month of slow riding because I was too proud (or scared) to rest, and then, finally, a break. Everything is mostly healed, just in time for Collegiate Mountain Bike Nationals.

Six of us are driving the 25 hours out to New Mexico, leaving monday at 3 and hoping to get in to race by Friday. Only school employees are allowed to drive school vans so all the guys got jobs as intermural hand ball referees. Then took their first week off. Wish us luck as we try to navigate our way across the country!

Snake Mtn, NC- "If you want to see the future go stare into a cloud"

2011-10-24T09:06:00.010-05:00

A three hour hike tracing the bald spine of Snake Mtn up to the pointed peak on the left. Crisp, clear skies on the journey up. We sat on the peak and looked the clouds in the eye at a bit under 6,000 ft- East Coast style. Watched a storm form in a cloud that crested the ridge line. Wind and sideways rain on the way down- the rocky spine had little tree coverage.

Best friends and amazing views. Can't believe this is our 'backyard' in North Carolina.

After this weekend, the world changed here in Boone. What an incredible end to a red autumns explosion. Now we're left with the tight and cleanness of winter.

I can never never believe how blessed we are to have this to go play on, and that we are healthy enough to enjoy it.

remembering summer

2011-10-10T09:28:00.005-05:00

Cupcake.

2011-10-10T09:10:00.005-05:00

Tried to go for teal fondant but it turned out too royal. But I think I did a good job dying the frosting blue. Also did a good job dying my hands, the counters, and a white t shirt blue as well. Whoops.

St. Louis Gateway CX Cup/the fun begins

2011-09-22T11:31:00.004-05:00

four-hour-drive-to-raleigh-two-flights-and-some-airport-ninja-stuff

breathe.

throw-bows-running-though-the-airport

breathe.

(Maybe I used up all my race competitveness power walking through the airport.)

Breathe.

When I finally arrived at the course I got to meet my two new super sweet Fuji’s for the first time.

They’re so purty.

Bill and Tom did an awesome job building them up and about an hour and a half before the race in a frenzy of bike fit tweaking, I found a position that felt alright. And check out all these sweet new Challenge tires.

The course was fast- dry with huge straights - and with a set of barriers, two sets of stair things, and a fly over that makes “the green monster” look like a playground.

The race began alright- I think I was around 4th and everyone was all together. It felt like we were racing a crit. A grassy dark crit with suprise corners that no one could really see. Teal was riding great and got away on the first lap, I think, and for some reason I decided my race plan should be “ride as hard as I can while 6 girls draft me for 2.5 laps”

What.

I must’ve missed a day in race stradegy 101 because, really, what was I thinking?

I ended up blowing up and when Meredith went, I fell off that group.

It’s crazy to realize how many mental highs and lows you can experience in a 40 minute race. Yesterday, as I fell off that group, my low hit me over the head as the course winded around the stage where a band was playing. Drunks acted drunk, hecklers heckled, and lawdry, I think I hated cyclocross for one long half a second. But it soon dissapeared, as any feeling but love for my cross bike tends to do. I tried to dig, but my legs felt shaky. I tried to be smooth over the barriers, but I was just a huge technical disaster (how do I clip in again?)

Around the last few corners I could see the shadow of a rider comming up my right side. The light was poor, but I could sense her. I shifted into a harder gear, dug a little more, and finished off the race determined.

When it was all over, I realized it wasn’t a rider. Just my shadow. I drilled myself out to beat.... myself.

So that’s what it’s all about, right?

.....No. Even I’m not that sappy.

I just couldn’t put a race together today. My legs felt awful and just all around I was sluggish. I guess it could be attributed to the long travel day or first cx race/ first time on a cx bike this year/ first time on that cross bike ever, but what better way tochristen a new bike than a race? I shoulda raced smater. Maybe I coulda done better.

Shoulda, coulda, woulda. Ready to put this day behind me and try again at madison.

- Madison USGP is a new race. Exicted to throw down with a huge field!

Lastly check out this stalker picture of green man, he-man, and a hotdog.

wait, one last question for anyone that reads this blog (hi mom)- I crashed pretty hard on the bottom of my knee mountain biking early 2 months ago. The stitches healed well and the wound is nearly gone, but there's still pain. An x-ray didn't show anything wrong. Any ideas on what I should do? It doesn't hurt riding anymore but I still can't walk or put weight on it. Is this normal for 2 months?

Astroid Kid

2011-09-19T15:14:00.011-05:00

The end of August is thick with heat and childhood memories.

And a stretching sun that traces the salty waves of our spines, tattooing us with warm and soaking up wet footprints on blacktop.

The summer air's as thick as silence in wartime. When infantry was neon and Nerf.

Skylines sticky, vibrating with heat. until that dying sun sank red and we poured ourselves into nighttime.

"See the fireflies," my imagination would say,

"Pretend they are the stars. And this darkness is the entirety of the universe. And each silent burst of light is a burning galaxy.And you are here just to be. Just to breath."

Until age roused us from our bed of flowers and set fire to our fields of vision- now burning with nostalgia.

I love my mountain bike because it takes me back to when the world would suddenly stop spinning. And everything would smell like summer. And dirt. And skinned knees.

tall tales from an astroid kid

MORE COWBELL

2011-09-14T12:18:00.003-05:00

A new team for fall

KCCX

(photo c KCCX/Fuji)

Thanks to Lyne at Podium Insight for the article!

In the summertime

2011-09-12T15:58:00.011-05:00

don't look down.

It’s just a ladder. How many times have you climbed a ladder? Tons.

Uh, but never at 6,000 feet.

Just don't look down.

(photo @ DWhike.com)

There are different kinds of fear. There’s trivial kinds- I’m afraid of my drivers test/I’m afraid of rejection. And then there’s adrenaline pumping, heart-beat-in-your-ears, fight or flight to save your life fear.

And as I stood frozen on a slippery wooden ladder at 6,000 feet in the air, body pressed against a cold boulder, hair whipping, stinging my face in the wind, I felt that kind of fear.

Thunder shook the ladder. Lightening melted the heavens.

And I found myself stuck. On a exposed ladder at 6,000 feet. In a storm.

Lawdy, I feared most that this is a new level of stupid. Even for me.

The plan was born of good intentions. We just wanted to salvage summer. To cling to the last of these warm, salty days. To live in youth and spare time. To climb a mountain.

So we did.

Clayton and I decided to hike to the top of Grandfather Mtn the long way (from 105, if you know the area). The whole trip was approx. 9 miles and a combination of hiking trails with a couple bouldering sections and sketchy passes. Yeah, it was far, but Clayton and I considered ourselves decently fit people and with determination, the distance seemed a doable challenge.

So we parked our car at the gate, double knotted our shoes, and began the hike.

Each step took us deeper into the Appalachian forest, cool with towering pine trees . We hiked to where yellow sunlight poured and rivers beat themselves into the soil, smoothing rock and giving life to ancient valleys. To say it was beautiful is an understatement.

Soon, the trail turned upwards and fat rain drops melted the dust into mud.

“should we turn back?”

“And save the hike for another day? When?”

So we kept going, the miles unfolding beneath our feet.

The first boulder section was wet but not impossible. We conquered it on all fours, legs propelling us over rocks twice my height. Then we paused at the top to take in the first view. By now, we were already at a pretty high elevation. But instead of seeing the overlapping mountains of the blue ridge, there was just fog. Miles and miles of white nothingness. Apparently the rain had rolled in with some sort of storm system.

“I feel like we’re on the moon”

“There isn’t any atmosphere on the moon. You wouldn’t see fog”

“I feel like we’re in nothingness, like we’re breathing in the clouds and dissolving into the air”

The was so much air.

Then the wind picked up. The rain poured harder, colder.

We left the overlook to find sheltered safety on the trail.

And after a moments rest, we kept climbing.

Higher and higher. the rockers became slicker and trees were shorter, not able to grow this oxogen deprived environment. The wind beat into us now. Our faces stung. We clung to the shortening shrubs on our left taking each step slow and sure as the consequence of slipping grew. On our right we could barely make out the edge of the rock before it disappeared into a wall of white fog.

For the first time, I wished we weren’t here. This same hike in clear weather must be beautiful. This view- blank white for us now- must be a lush landscape of painted blue mountains and sky. I wanted to see the rolling hills buried within the fog. Why else climb so high?

To our relief the trail turned inward away from the edge and we sought momentary shelter beneath an overhanging rock. My hands balled into fights, trying to reclaim every bit of escaping heat. We’re so, so cold now and there was still a mile left before we reach the peak, let alone the whole way back down the mountain to go.

Then my ribs shook- a growl that seemed to grow from the core of my body. It shook the life out of all this organic material.

Thunder.

I imagined Zeus on these clouds.

He’s angry. Angry we have climbed high enough to look him in the eye. And while a moment ago we stood brave on the cusp of fog, now we hid as he grabbed our mountain with both hands and shook.

It rained even harder. We could barely see shapes between the raindrops but at least the top was close now. At nearly 6,000 feet, the trees vanished into small shrubs and then, just rock. Exposed. We clung to the cold wet surface. My Nike trainers aren’t hiking shoes. The slipped against the boulders. But one slow, steady footstep at a time we made it to the top.

McCrae peak is a boulder the size of a house atop the tallest point of Grandfather mountain. By now, the rain had grown into a full on storm. The ancient rock stood defiant against the now howling winds. And we had to climb to the top. We had to. Otherwise this journey was worth nothing. Otherwise we came all this way to turn back at the most pivotal point.

The rock face of McCrae peak is too steep to climb on its own so wooden ladders have been drilled in to let hikers to the top. We approached the ladder and carefully, we climbed. One rung at a time. Clayton went first. At the top, he couldn’t get traction on the slick surface. In one terrifying moment it looked as though he would slip before regaining composure. Then, it was my turn. Who is braver, us or the weather?

The wind beat us stronger yet. The rain poured sideways.

One step at a time. My knuckles ached from holding on. My arms felt like they’d give out.

But, then one step at a time, I was at the top.

We stood there for a moment, unsheltered by anything. Just standing on a rock, 6,000 feet into the air. Not thinking. Not planning. Just being. Breathing in the clouds.

I have a Patagonia base layer. I have an expensive waterproof jacket. They both failed me. So cold now, who is braver, us or the weather?

The weather is larger than us. Living inside of us. Birthing the rhythmic pattern of life like the moon’s tide. I will not fight the weather anymore, but I will no longer fear it. I’ll notice my place in nature and accept the magnitude of the mountains.

When I ride my bike, I won’t fight the climb. I won’t rush over it. Instead, I’ll learn to love my labored breathing and be thankful the mountain is allowing me to find my own path over it, allowing me my own version of conquering it’s strength.

I’m not afraid of winter. Not anymore.

High Country Cyclocross Clinic

2011-09-11T07:15:00.003-05:00

The air is crisper, the ground is cruncher, and I'm getting even more jealous of people with wood stoves. That can only mean one thing: CYCLOCROSS IS COMING

If you're a woman cyclocross racer in the high country area, come this sunday to the High Country Cyclocross Clinic taught by Kim Bishop and yours truly.

Hope to see you there!

Tour of Bretagne Femine

2011-07-19T08:03:00.007-05:00

Sorry for such a short choppy report. Brain cracked.

The first stage was 128k with a couple big rollers, a hard climb, and 5 5k finishing circuits. One of the Russians slipped away and built up a big gap. To encourage the group to chase we took turns attacking until Jackie Crowell got away in a group and stuck it to the line. She finished third, putting her third in GC and Coryn took the points sprints for time bonuses and got the young rider jersey as well. Awesome race.

The next stage was a short time trial- 16k. The course looked like three year old’s scribble

The roads were narrow, the corners off camber and, of course, graveled. I tried to think of the course as a cross race- focusing on gear choice out of the corners, exit speed, and using the whole road. Here's a picture of me pretending to time trial. But to be honest, I just put it here because it's a long sleeve skin suit, which, if you haven't worn one, make you feel pretty awesome.

Felt a bit sluggish but my time put me into 17th for the stage.

Because any Lil Wayne lyric is really just a life motto, we went into the third stage ready to shoot first, not back. We wanted the Russians on the defensive, to chase us for a change, and hopefully gain some seconds for Jackie. We raced aggressively for the first 50k, launching attack after attack. It was a fun way to race, and we spit out a couple riders, but going into the second half of the race all the main players were still there. Then it started pouring sideways rain. The crooked, wet streets were slick. We froze. We hit the finishing circuits on the front

(photo evidence, I don’t acutally make this shit up).

Our GC leader, Jackie flatted about 7k from the finish. There was alot of confusion about what to do and we kinda effed it up. Chalk it up to a lack of experience, but I feel like in this confusion we lost her the podium. She ended up getting a wheel from the caravan, which was obviously not the best way to handle the situation. Bad day.

Going into the last day Jackie was in 4th by 4 seconds because of time lost due to the flat. Time bonuses and sprint points along the course offered a chance to move Jackie up onto the podium. The race began with the usual flurry of Russian attacks. I went with a small move that came back quickly. Liontek countered off that and Coryn went with. They were off the front for most of the race, I think around 80k. Yikes. When the time gap ballooned to 1’40”, the Russians felt the pressure and rotated on the front through some horrible winds. By the time the gap came down, they had blown through riders and we were looking okay for the circuits.

The circuits were very difficult- a steep long climb, a technical descent, then another switch backed climb before a descent into the finish. The Canadians drilled the first lap. Cross eyed as we were, we saw one of the top three GC get dropped. Jackie, told me to get to the front and drill it to keep the split, which I tried (as seen in this photo evidence!)

But despite all the effort I could put out, it wasn't strong enough and the group came back together. The rest of the circuits were fast and hard. I tried my best to help Jackie out. We were all cracked at this point. Two girls slipped away and but Jackie still took third in the field split. She finished 4th GC, a heartbreaking one second off of the podium.

The race had it’s high’s and lows for sure, but towards the end of the race we gelled well and worked as a team. It was a lot of fun to race this way.

The finishes happened to put me in 15th overall and third in young rider.

Fun, hard races. We gained alot of experience. As always, thank you USA cycling for this opportunity, Attitude Sports for all your help, and everyone back home for all the support.

old stories in an old town

2011-07-12T11:50:00.007-05:00

I wanted to take a picture of the photobooth.

You know, for the novelty of seeing one for the first time in forever. I walked around the front, trying to angle it in my slanted lens. Click.

What," a voice asked from behind us. " No photo booths in America?"

(The best part of wearing shirts and jackets that say USA all over them is that it translates to "we have no idea what we're doing.")

The man's a gardener, doing yard word for a big house down the street. He asks if we're tourists and if we know the history of this town. Yes, No.

"You know," the man continues, "there have been tragedy inside these walls. Horror. Sorrow."

We stare at him. "What?"

He told us of world war 2, of how this town, like so many others, were struck hard. Of how all the able bodied men from this tiny town were sent to the town hall and worked to death. Of how all the survivors were taken onto a ship and killed two days after the peace treaty was signed.

Once, Clayton and I went camping on the 4th of july. Our tent was in the valley, wedged deep between two appalachian peaks, hidden and camoflauged by the overgrown greenery. Fireworks exploded above us. Beyond the tree line, we couldn't see the brilliance, just the noise and burst of light. I said, "let's pretend we're in a war zone. That this is a battle."

But now, I see, I am stupid. I can't imagine what it must've been like.

But even more remarkably, he told us a story of heroism. Of two girls about our age- 20 and 23, that saved the down from from a complete masacare. A machine gun was hidden in the attic of the hotel in town- the same hotel we're staying at now. When none of the towns people were wiling to remove the gun, the two girls snuck into the attic and grabbed the gun. They wrapped it in cloth, walked back the guarding officers, and threw it into the woods.

We didn't know what to think. It's strange to see all the beauty in this world before hearing about it's death. It's strange to see a story unravel, to see what this town was meant to be, but then to hear what created it. It's strange to see the flowers growing through the concrete.

There's no wind in this town. Here, within these twisty old streets and arching buildings, I can't feel the breeze. Maybe it's too far from the sea, I'm not sure. But walking around these old streets, we found a seashell.

I think it's good to wonder.

Bonjour!

2011-07-11T01:55:00.011-05:00

We have eaten crossants.

Foggy mornings on old brick alleys.

And have already learned how to ask for coffee in French. Merci!

Here are some photos of the first day

We're doing two stage races while here:

Tour de Bretagne

Tour Feminin en Limousin

The final stage of Gracia-Orlova

2011-07-03T11:07:00.010-05:00

You feel the music in your ribs before it fills your ears. Forceful, thumping, you can almost see the vibrations leaving the speakers- swirling through the air before striking you. It’s the heavy base, a glossy production voice, and the image of two hundred, kitted up, angry women that I’ll always associate with european bike racing.

So listen up, girl. Feel the beat. Racing here is hard times, learned lessons, and so many memories.

It pours rain.

I don’t look at my computer. I don’t look at my computer.

I do.

60k left. I take comfort in knowing that’s less than 60 miles and try to not figure out miles in my head

(my computer is still “stuck” on Kilometers, which I still don’t understand).

The stage race began with a result I was proud of. The next three days brought a time trial and mountain passes that the other ladies flew up but I held their wheels on will.

But now this. Off the back after a crash, slipping around on some slick Czech road, fingers too frozen to shift, straining to see the corner ahead between the rain drops.

And I realize I hate this. Hate. This.

Not the sport, not the racing, not the trials or tests of attrition.

Just this. Where I am right now. Mostly, I hate that the only thing I want right now is to quit. And that's the worst feeling there is.

I try to ball my hand into a fist to warm up, but my fingers are too frozen to move. I hit my shifter with wrist instead. Easier gear. Spin. Keep going.

Let the rain come. Let it string your forearms, keep your frozen legs numb. Let it pour over you, wash away your pride, your doubt, anything you’ve done to prepare for this moment, because the moment is happening right now. Take a deep breath, eat some food, and keep peadling. You always have to keep going.

You feel the music in your ribs before it fills your ears. forceful, thumping, you can almost see the vibrations leaving the speakers.

The finish.

The race has already been won. Probably a while ago. Spectators have already lost interest by the time our group slowly rolls in. People are taking down the barriers that line the sprint. But that music is still playing.

After I return to the states, weeks later I’ll hear this song played on the radio. It won’t be the same. It won’t be nearly as colorful. Because now, this song is perfect. The way it hits- it not only matches my mood, blending seamlessly with everything I feel and hope. It shapes us, creates us, elevating us further into what we want to be.

So listen up. Remember the beat. There’s music in these memories, no matter what it sounds like. And the melody can only get louder.

A week from today I’ll be on a plane to Paris for more of this craziness.

I can’t wait.

meat snax and cow jerseys- A tour of America's Dairyland.

2011-07-03T11:06:00.004-05:00

Our troubles began in darkness, as trouble seem to do.

Tuesday 4:40pm- Power outage because of a storm

6:30- Cook dinner- rice and beans- on a gas stove. Clayton grills chicken.

6:45- Want ice cream

6:50- Need Ice cream

7:00- Clayton rides down the street to the gas station to get ice cream. He convinces himselfduring his ride on my old red commuter bike that he's the fastest and goes on to win/podium the next couple days at ToAd.

7:10- The owner gives it to us for free because, due to the power outage, his freeze is letting everything melt. Or maybe he just felt bad for a bunch of 21 year olds on an ice cream mission.

8:00-We sit around the galloon, knuckles deep in neopolitan. Laughing. The sun bares down and slowly drops from the sky, pouring us in it's last. We're illuminated. Radio crackles. I wonder if these are the times I'll miss.

11:30-Bed

Wednesday

Godawful early- Wake up. Get ready to race Tour of America's Dairyland, or ToAD. Realize ToAD is the best acronym for a race, ever. Try to get excited about a 13 mile non-aero time trial. Can't.

9:00- get to venue, look for McDonalds. Egg & cheese biscuit. Yum.

10:30- flat tubular. Awesome. Borrow a wheel from a teammate. Ready to roll.

11:05- Start time trial. That's alot of hills.

12:00- win! By 1.5 seconds. That was close. Get a sweet cow jersey.

3:00- Driving home with friends, laughing in that afternoon sun. Feelin' nostolgic. Wondering how many times like these we have left.

3:15- Car sputters.

3:20- Car stops. Out of gas. On the freeway. In a construction zone with no shoulder. Pop on emergency flashers. Laugh. Then get scared. Call cops. Get called assholes.

3:22- Clayton explains we had to try to make it to the next gas station because they sell meat snacks. Like in Trailer Park Boys. Understandable.

3:40- Nick pushes us down the road 100 yards.

4:00- Think about riding bikes down the freeway to get gas/a gas can, but that's something you can only do once in your life.

6:00- Rescued. Home.

I hope this summer never ends.

I hope these memories never fade.

I hope we never run out of gas on a freeway again.

Sweat, Spokes, and Florescent Lighting: Nature Vally Grand Prix

2011-07-03T10:31:00.007-05:00

t’s not really a rainbow.

The colors are all wrong.

Unless you ride bikes.

Because then this, the jersey of a current world champion, is beautiful. Almost mythical. Or at least that’s how I felt in the presence of the rainbow bars.

The colors are so confident. The strength within the lines radiate, emitting such much dedication, determination, yet are worn with such grace. My fingers tremble. So close to the rainbow jersey. Probably the closest I’ll ever be. So close I could touch it....

She turns around. There I'm standing. Creepy, weird. Looking more like a stalker than a competitor

(which, in reality, is probably true)

Luckily, she doesn’t even notice me.

And so, the tone for the week was set. Creepy, weird. The only ways to describe what became a memorable race, to say the least.

The six stage race begins with a 6 mile prologue. It’s a hard course, though fairly straight forward- out and back with a .5 mile climb up to the finish. The climb’s actually shorter than a half mile, but the false flat at the top is killer. Once again, nothing “aero” was allowed which was a bummer because 1) A TT bike makes me feel like a fighter pilot, regardless of how slow I may be going and 2) A TT bike the race feel special. I rode as hard as I could, and despite rain leaving the course partially submerged in puddles, I went a little bit faster than last year to finish 33rd.

Stage one- That evening we had an hour crit. The course was 5 corners and had lots of fake brick. If you race you know how slick fake brick can be. When wet it's like hitting an entire banana peel road of Mario Kart... if you play mario kart.

And so, of course, it poured.

To add to the craziness, a Taylor Swift concert was taking place at a building practically on course. Warming up we dodged the two worst kind of drivers- cyclists and 16 year old girls (I can say that- I once belonged to the center of that venndiagram in that horrible marriage of aggressive driving and distraction)

The race itself was fast and fun but not without a good deal of carnage. As nerve wracking as a fast, wet brick course with random crashes was, I was thankful to not have been an official responsible for scoring the race, or the neutral support guys who pushed in from the pits 3/4 of the women’s field. Twice.

Stage two. The next day brought a 65 mile road race. I woke up not feeling great, but figured it was just an adrenaline hangover from the craziness of the day before. Fast race, fun race, had to switch a wheel a couple miles before the dirt road into the circuits and couldn’t get back up to the field. Rode in with a couple girls and we at least made the time cut.

And then the real adventure began.

That night brought no sleep and lots of sickness. Without going into details, my race was over before the fourth race. Defeated, my initial thought was to get better overnight, take the bus home, and race the remainder of Dairyland.

Plans are for wussies.

The bus station was grimy. Even the air was- it crawled into my lungs, thick and curdling with germs and empty tickets. I opened the door to a fluorescent, crowded lobby. People lined the walls, huddled over their bags, shifty eyes guarded against sticky fingers and last chance bus tickets.

I walk up to the counter and try to explain that I need to get on this next bus to Milwaukee.

Yes, the 4:30 one. Yes I know I’m late-

I know it’s not your problem but, please, and-

Nothing.

When is the next bus?

9 pm? My hopes crush a little bit. In five hours? I guess I can wait.

The man smiles.

I'm sorry, that bus is sold out as well.

Sold out. I want to tell him I'll sit anywhere. I lay in the aisle for six hours. I'll sleep beneath the bus with the bags if I have to. It can't be sold out.

The man, seeing my wound opening, ran to grab a salt shaker. "There isnt a bus tonight. Nothing, not one to anywhere."

He walks away. Crushing hope must be the one perk of being a Greyhound employee.

So as the day changed from racing bikes and living dreams to having them smashed onto the sticky floor of the bus station, I realized I needed a plan.

Another adventure.

So there's no bus home. Not today at least. How about tomorrow?

It begins to storm outside. The homeless, the drunk, the vagrants, thedrugged all fill the station. They lay out on seats, propping their up their feet, making camp. People pour in from a bus that just arrived. The cloying heat of the station begins to reek.

I look up the bus schedule and find an early morning escape.

1am, 8 hours from now. Arriving in Milwaukee at 6:30 am.

I’ll take it.

Time passes quickly and 1 am finally rolls around. Glassy eyed and exhausted, we line up and hand over our tickets. I grab a window seat at the back and try to get comfortable. Next stop: Milwaukee.

Behind me, a boy whispers into his phone, “no I ain't worried. I got family everywhere. I’m not worried about anything.” A deep breath. The bus pulls away from the station. Goodbye Minnesota.

At 6:40 am the bus pulls into Milwaukee. The city silhouetted against the morning fog, seagulls screeching in the new day. Stiff, exhausted, sick, the bus wakes up. We get off. The outside air is fresh. Blue skies. Tranquil and quiet. For the first time in what feels like years, I’m surrounded by people who aren’t hallucinating, stealing the free warmth of a bus station.

Then everything sounds like a bicycle. The chain spinning, the gears shifting, reconizable even in this groggy state.

Two guys ride by on carbon road bikes, colorful team kits, spinning legs. People around me watch them too. And it's like looking into another world, my own world, had I not gotten sick, had I finished the race, had a hundred things happened that didn’t or did.

Dark clouds roll in from the west and the new day is changing. How long had these clouds waited, drifting across the sky, building taller and taller until they could rain on Milwaukee? If I wasn’t up this early, I wouldn’t have seen the change. I couldn’t have seen the blue sky before the storm. I couldn't have known that beneath those clouds, it was really beautiful all along.

It’s always an adventure.

Dear Minnesota.

2011-06-16T11:49:00.003-05:00

Maybe it’s Minnesota. Maybe being a wisconsinite has created an intrinsic hatred of the state. Maybe it’s that the stages are hard, but not contrasted against the beautiful backdrop of some surreal race. “Yeah, it’s a hard stage but we’re in Europe. Thats so cool!” Maybe it’s that the whole time I’m struggling up some climb, gasping for air as the wheel in front of my inches away I’m thinking, oh Minnesota. I hate you. I can’t even spell you.

Maybe it’s because I truely love Wisoconsin and Minnesota, you’re the only state that’s just too close for comfort. When I say I hate football but love the packers, you understand and mock me for it. like us, you’e largely ignored by the rest of the country until january when they hear reports of multiple feet of snow and think, god, I’m glad I don’t live there.

Maybe, Minnesota, it’s not you. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m undertrained. Maybe I’m overfed. Maybe I’m... slow.

Regardless, we’re gonna be meeting again soon. And no matter what happens in the five days, remember: We may be responsible for cheese curds, but you gave the world insane clown posse. And that, is unforgivable.

Two oil changes in 11 days

2011-06-15T13:44:00.004-05:00

Iowa- Snake Alley, Melon City & Quad Cities criteriums

Iowa cringes beneath the weight of summertime. In the cracks on the buildings, the gaps in the asphalt, in the people themselves are tinted with the reminder of winter. Towns sprout from the freeway. Grow tall but not rich. Signs shout from stilts to be seen from highway at the curve of the earth, an island, an oasis, from miles and miles of fields. Swaying, crashing against each other, competing for space when nothing is so abundant. Iowa.

What better place to go in Iowa than a Target?

I don’t mean to brag, but I doubt anyone has a caffeine tolerance as high as mine. A pot of coffee- the norm. Add a redbull? No problem. Espresso IV? Needed. So I thought nothing of an energy drink, coffee, 5 hr energy (found it) and a 2x caffeine gu prerace.

I felt awesome.

Then I thought I was going to puke.

And then the race started.

This really neither helped nor hurt me in the race. Just made me feel like an idiot for having the caffeine jitters at 11:30 pm. The race was fun, as snake alley always is. It’s ironic that the winner gets a brick. Because if you’re a mortal that doesn't float up those bricks, you’ve turned into a brick. And you know what you get if you become a brick? The pity clap. I got lots of pity claps.

Muscatine.

After some storms that put those at the super 8 in the tornado shelter (the basement of a super 8 is something I never want to see. I want to remain disease free), the races went off with a slight delay. I got away early and kept it till the finish. It was a lot of luck, I heard it was an odd race in the field, but it felt good to see an effort pay off. The next day- Quad Cities- I felt that effort again. I was useless, the course was hot, wahwahwah.

Drove home to wisconsin, then the next day drove 14 hours straight down to Boone, North Carolina. I think I became crazy. Celine Dion and I became girls. But still, I’m beginning to love that drive. It forces you to breathe, to slow down, to watch one mile at a time, to see the light between the leaves and how the rolling hills grow till they scrape the sky. The mountains. The radio turns to static before I run out of road. I’ll trade you dollars for roadside peaches.

Poisoned kudzu claws and chokes the life out of these southern states. So green and lush, foolishly native looking, I don’t know what to think. But I do like the drive. I like the road name- Daniel Boone Trail- as though this drive is something more. I like the dusty, heat worn towns with their paint chipped porches and beauty queens.

The day after driving down we left for Roan Mountain to camp out for a couple races. Two nights of camping/hiking the Appalachian Trail. Beautiful. I’ll put up pictures once I find my camera’s usb cable.

After the long weekend, we back up to Kentucky to visit friends, then back down to Boone for a couple days. Then I left, made the drive to wisconsin, then onto Minnesota for NVGP.

I don’t care what people say- I’ve seen the sun rise in the south and set in the north. And everywhere has become home. They say when you go back you can see how much you’ve grown and changed. But it isn’t like that. Each place holds within it a part of you. Some moment or memory that comes flooding back. Or of the people frozen there, so woven within those memories that it’s easy to pretend they still exist there. That they haven’t grown or changed or passed away. And then, once again, it’s hard to leave.

Everywhere I go, I want to stay forever.

Expect for Iowa.

collegiate road nationals

2011-05-23T10:59:00.003-05:00

It began dramatically, as all good stories do.

A movement, action, anything to capture the reader’s attention.

This time- A headbutt, cement, and words never, ever before spoken:

“Don’t fuck with the cycling team”

It ended with a podium. And this time we weren’t just looking at it, but down from it with a 2ed in the Men's D1 crit, a 2ed in the Men's D1 TTT, and a 3rd women's D1 RR.

Here's a write up I did for collegiate cycling news:

http://collegiatecyclingnews.com/blog-posts/nationals-ashley-james-looks-back

Gracia-Orlova

2011-05-23T10:58:00.003-05:00

A week in Czech, 5 stages, rice and vinegar, TT bikes, a crashed moto, big climbs, and a big post I'll put up eventually.

The Czech Republic

2011-04-26T08:10:00.010-05:00

A couple pictures from today. Sorry they're huge. If I try to fix them the internet will surely dissapear again. (which is ironic cause my roommate is watching that south park episode where the internet dissapears and the town flips out. Sounds like us. Yesterday)

A playground here. Kicking rocks is fun

Hanging out with some babes I found in Europe

Muddy from "sitting in" on our recovery ride. I just follow the speedy girls 'cause they're fast and speedy.

Most importantly, we found these shirts at a truck stop in Germany. If you can't see it, it's a truck with a majestic eagle flying over. The bottom says, "Ridin' with the Big Boys"

Germany has wolf shirts too!

GP Stad Roeselare

2011-04-24T04:04:00.004-05:00

-135k and two times up the Kemellburg climb here in Belgium.

-Today I rode cobbles

There were a couple bumpy brick sections (what I imagined cobbles to look like) when the race passed through small towns, but the Kemellburg and a flat stretch at the end of the race were actually cobbeled, which were much harder to ride than I ever could've imagined. Up the Kemmelburg, which reached 22% at it's peak, the cobbles were so slick and bumpy it was almost impossible to stand up.

The cobbles absorb any effort you put out and you're left to creep up it s l o w l y. But at the same time, it was so, so cool. Despite being off the back (I'll get to that later) crowds were screaming in my face like I was winning the whole race. It was awesome. The flat cobbles are a whole different beast. So bumpy, you have to cling to your bars till your knuckles ache. So bumpy, your helmet and head and eyes shake and you can't see what's in front of you aside from a blur of color and foreign voices screaming WOAH WOAH WOAH

- Today I learned the importance of positioning. It wasn't that I doubted people before when they'd tell me how important is is to be at the front, but the 60-100 person fields we race in the US are so, so different than the 200 person ones here. Mostly:

200 girl fields are scary.

Crashing the day before made me a bit sore, but mostly really nervous. All the aggression I tried to race with the day before had slipped and split out onto the roads of Holland. And you have to be aggressive here. Unlike back home where it's okay to take a moment to breathe, here, if you're not consciously trying to move up (and actually doing that) you're going backwards. And fast. It's a constant battle. So feeling timid in a huge field was a horrible thing, especially when the race makes a corner onto a bike path and then up the first steep climb of the race. A couple girls unclipped ahead of us up the climb and it was race over. Lesson learned, and hopefully I'll be able to htfu and move up alot in these next few races!

-Today I learned how good it feels to have a friend in the field and hear an American voice with you as you swerve through girls on a steep climb, trying to make up lost time.

-Today I learned what it's like to ride in a paceline with miles and miles still ahead on a twisty, lonely, windy road somewhere in Belgium. Riding the hardest I can and 6 minutes off the back of the race.

-Today I learned what it's like to miss every one of your USA feeds, finally get a bottle from the caravan and drop it. I've also learned how to snipe bottles from other teams when it gets really desperate (sorry)

The racing here is crazy. So different and so many challenges. But I'm really having a good time so far. Belgium was great. I couldnt figure out Holland expect that the writing looked like gibberish. But I fell in love with Belgium.

Omloop Van Borsele

2011-04-24T03:17:00.005-05:00

I’m laying in bed sore and exhausted trying to digest everything that happened. Trying to make sense of it, trying to justify the craziness of a european race. Trying to learn from so many mistakes, trying to figure it out, because I have to try again tomorrow.

My first race ever- Omloop Van Borsele. After a two hour drive, we sat around the usa cycling van and waited. I tried not to panic but it was hard not to. I was surrounded in a blur of foreign words and foreign kits. Although it was a small race- only a UCI 1.2, some big teams were here. After sign in, I rolled to the start with the other USA girls.... and we lined up at the front. I tried not to laugh. Starting front row, almost center, at my first euro race ever seemed absurd.

I can only go backwards from here.

After 40 minutes of waiting at the line, foreign words were shouted and a gun went off. Clip in. Elbows everywhere. Sprint! Brake! That panicky, familiar smell of burning brakes and skidding tires! I fought to stay at the front the best I could. It was a constant battle, as everyone said it would be. I didn’t have the skill the other girls seemed to for moving up through gaps, but I tried my best. No time to rest, even mentally.

We rounded a corner, still only 10k into the race when- SLAM.

I was on the ground.

shit. I

grabbed my bike. Broken shifter. Don’t panic. I put up a hand and waited for the USA car in the caravan. The mechanic jumped out and ran towards my bike, shouting something I couldn’t understand. He unlatched a spare bike from the roof and threw it at me. I jumped on. It felt foreign. My own bike, as anyone whos ever ridden a bike knows- feels like something I can understand. This new one felt bulky and strange. The seat was too long. The top tube too long. The bars too wide. Shimano shifters

How do these work again?

The caravan whipped past me. Dust blew into my eyes, the hot Holland sun baked into the back of my neck. Suddenly, after just barley starting the race, I was alone and off the back. Crashed, already. I felt like crying.

For a second, I think about quitting. But then what? Ride 10k on race day?

Don’t be stupid. I'm in Holland. Racing my bike. Get real.

So I do the only thing I can do. I reach down into the drops, extended further than I can reach on this foreign bike, and ride as hard as I can. Might as well give it all- even if I am off the back.

Riding up through the caravan is intense- something I’ve never done before- but the cars expected it, letting me draft behind them, recovering, before jumping up to the next car.

I see the USA car up ahead and yell out that my seats way to low on this other bike. The mechanic hangs out the window and motions for me to ride up next to the car.

Oh crap. They’re gonna fix it as we ride. OH crap.

Nervously, I take my left hand off the bars and reach for the car. The mechanic hangs out the window with a tool and starts loosening my seat bolt.

OH crap. oh crap. oh crap.

The other cars in the caravan fly up the right, which was especially terrifying because the entire road was the width of a bike path. When the mechanic lets me go with a push, it takes everything I have to ride up through the final cars in the caravan and make the gap to the back of the field. Exhausted, mentally and physically, and with over 100k left of racing. Everyone was right, it IS extemely difficult and different racing over here.

The field whipped around a couple tight corners, the tree line dissapeared, and the Holland winds began to cut through the field. Gaps started to open, and after chasing back on I was almost DFL. The race was still stung out, completely guttered (I’ve never raced a race that was acutally guttered like this, especially sitting 200 girls back from the front on the road the size of a bike path) As gaps opened and girls sat up, it was a constant fight to keep finding a wheel that wasn't going backwards.

This spare bike felt foreign. It was a battle to put it where I wanted, not seamless, not intuituvly like my bike. But I was so, so relieved to be back in the field.

That is until- I look up and see a wheel skidding in front of me. Brakes lock up. Forigen voices yell and I can’t reach the brakes to stop in time.

Endo, again. This crash hurt both my body and ego much worse than the first.

Who crashes TWICE in their first euro race ever? The caravan whips past- again- blowing up a cloud of dust that stung my eyes with defeat. Just behind me I see a “small” field of about 50 dropped girls riding up. I jump on and- miraculaously- we bridge up to almost the back of the field. I guess that’s what racing is about here- not giving up. Creating multiple chances for yourself. I burry myself again to try to reach the back of the field, and when I do those damn Holland cross winds cut through the strung out field AGAIN. This time it was too much for me. The pace was too fast to move up, and I burnt everything I had chasing onto the back too many times. I rode the rest of my race with a group at the back of maybe 40 riders.

I learned alot already. But I didn't give up. It's a small little light in such a bad race. These races are unbelievably hard and I made alot of mistakes. I have alot more to learn.

Listen up, girl. There’s music in these memories.

Belgium!

2011-04-23T02:26:00.003-05:00

Today I time traveled.

Everyday for the last couple of weeks I had thought about this moment. Packed, finally, and waiting in the airport for my first flight.

Don’t mess this up.

Not exactly sure what that meant, I clenched my ticket in the terminal and waited.

Boarding time came, and went. That plane hadn’t arrived. The clock tick away, eating into my two and half hour layover in JFK.

Next thing I know, I’m running through JFK. The first flight had been two hours late. I had twenty minutes to catch an international flight to Dublin. Shet.

Running through the airport. What terminal is my next flight in? Flag someone down. Three. What terminal is this? 5. Shet. Where’s the tram? Downstairs. Run. Pause. Watch girl fall down the escalator. Try not to laugh. Watch her stand up and fall again. Is she drunk or maybe has a sleeping disorder? Still funny. Remember I’m ridiculously late and keep running. Find airport employee and tell her my deal. She runs with me, flashing her badge at security and getting us to the front of the line.

Accidentally hockey check a bro. “Easy boss”

Easy boss? Have you ever been curb stomped by a 120 lb girl from Wisconsin? Shove him out of the way.

Run though security. Get to my 5:45 flight at 5:37. Boardings over.

Can I still get on? “Urgh, we’ve been paging you” The flight attendant lisps, his buzz cut hair dyed green. “Why haven’t you been here?” Urgh, running through the whole effing airport to get here because the flights are trash and are never on time.He looked at me and at the TT helmet dangling from my backpack. “Well, maybe if you had worn that fancy hat there you would’ve been here on time. Sorry.”

EFF YOU.

So I waited, so many more hours in that horrible airport, before finally boarding my flight to dublin, a sleep couple hour layover there, and then finally made it to Brussels.

Stressing about an unplanned week of not really riding, especially this two day travel day completely off the bike, but I always seem to stress about everything.

First race is tomorrow- Omloop Van Borsele, 120k of probable craziness. SO NERVOUS!!!!

I'll try to update this thing as I have internet.

laying low, laying out...

2011-04-07T09:01:00.005-05:00

...in the sun. Finally!

I leave for Belgium in a little under two weeks and have to (get to?) finish up the semester before I leave. Being off the bike for a week until the concussion headaches go away has given me alot of time to be productive and research things. And by productive I mean I cooked eggs in a frying pan instead of the micowave and, well I guess that's about it. And by research I mean I spent twenty minutes staring at the websites of the races we're gonna be doing in Europe before concluding they're not in English, but the pictures look really, really intimidating. One race is GP Stad Roeselare, a one day UCI 1.1 classic in Belgium, and the other is Garcia-Orlova, a 2.2 UCI stage race in Czech Republic. Having never raced in Europe before, I have no idea what a World Cup race actually entails, but I'm completely white faced nervous already. It sounds pretty real.

And I cross my heart pinky swear to update this thing from Europe. I would get a twitter, but what I have to say is way too important to confine to 140 characters (just kidding!) Twitter confuses me. I hate all the linking and retweeting. I just don't know how to read it. And the only other person who reads this blog is my mom, and I don't think she knows how to read twitter either.

redlands!

2011-04-01T22:24:00.016-05:00

-So where are you headin'?
-Aspen.
-Hmmm, California! Beautiful!

While floyd was't right about much (the parakeet scene hit home hard), california is beautiful.

It's so pretty out here. And, to make leaving less appealing, Boone is getting snow. Yes. Snow.

But anyways, Redlands stage race. 4 days, 4 stages, first race of the year for me & lots of nerves. We had 113 women starting, which was awesome. Thanks to GearGrinder for hooking us up with these super sweet track jackets and t-shirts so at least we look good!

The race kicked off with a 3.1 mile uphill Prologue. Woah. It was hard. As the dry california heat climbed into the 80s, the mountain of a tt course would be even more tough. The course began with a short kicker then up a false flat for maybe a mile before the road tilts backwards and you're faced with an impossibly pitched climb- the summit hanging daunting above your head, seperated by scorching black pavement and a ticking clock.

It was such a hard TT.Did what I could and finished 33rd

Stage 1 brought a 72 mi RR- rolling with a climb up to the QOM and a descent into the finish. Again, the race was hot. Not much to say, but I was happy to finish in the front group & 26th

Almost as happy as to find my new look:

Saturday's crit felt fast. I was just hanging on! Finished in the field with everyone more or less getting the same time.

Going into Saturday's RR I was 26th GC. I know that's not great, but it's the best Ive done in an NRC stage race and I was pretty stoked about it. The course would be hard- 9 laps of a 6 mile loop with a 3 mile climb on each lap. Despite getting dropped in most math classes, even I know that's 27 miles of climbing. Ouch. The race started out hard. The rolling "neutral" was fast and up the first climb a break of ten (ish) went. I found myself in the second group of about 20. We rode around for a bit, some more caught back onto our group, and then I crashed.

And here the whining starts. You might want to skip this part. Seriously.

So I crashed. Not sure what happened, but the mess up body & bike to coolness of crash ratio sucked. Meaning, it was a horribly dumb crash (im sure) for the reprecussions (mainly just switching out shifters, but I'm lazy. And a cat 5 "mechanic"). But after this, my bike was unrideable and I had to accept a DNF on the stage...and the whole race.

And, apart from the actual racing, it's not like Redlands was going well from the start. Five days before my flight out here we noticed my frame was cracked. Blue was awesome, got it warrentied, and we built up a new frame just in time. Two nights before my flight, Clayton noticed the carbon braking surface on my wheel was cracked. The wheel is five years old, so this is nothing out of the ordinary, but it definitely present another glitch in the plan. Clayton and Reid, another kid at App, came to my (and my baby 303's!) rescue when they developed a plan to use a syringe to inject carbon repair gel into the wheel. It totally sounds less crazy when they say it. My wheel went to surgery the night I left as I paced around the house like an anxious mother in a waiting room.

The good news: It worked! The bad: With dry time it wouldn't be ready to race on in CA.

With no other wheel to ride expect a ghetto antique wheel with an unworking powertap hub (that I wasn't particularly excited about dragging up the hills out here), Clayton came to my rescue yet again and let me borrow his 404 for the trip. Of course, the tire had to come unglued during the flight. (Yeah. wtf.) The local bike shop glued up my tire the day before the TT and seemingly, after losing a frame and a wheel within 5 days of leaving, I had a working bike to race.

Then a crash to top off the week. I really would've liked to get a decent result at this race, or least finish, but whatevs.

I know "it happens," but it sure sucks when it does

But we had alot of fun. Good times. And on the bright side, I got tan. And got to ride in a cop car. The officer didn't buckle up for safety, even after I reminded him.

Redlands, it's been real.

west from raleigh

2011-04-01T22:23:00.000-05:00

...like a bad country song. like the ones that screeched out the speakers of my middle school bus and forever gave me distaste for twanged love songs over crappy G chords. The trip to redlands would begin at 1 am, with a three hour drive from boone to raleigh airport, and a couple flights from raleigh to California. Beginning the day at 1 am means no sleep. None. Just a groggy departure, an empty freeway filled cloying, sickenly bright gas stations to get watery coffee in styrofoam cups. The early morning drives, the dark, empty roads, the bike feels like an excuse for this kind of freedom. And there’s always that twinge of envy as the semis stir from their sleep, lights flickering on, running down the on ramps and into the promise of morning.

I arrived at the gate early having allowed extra time for disaster. Apparently about 2 and a half hours of disaster, which when you think about it, would’ve had to of been something catastrophic. So the wait began, and people slowly arrived. Groggy people, nervous people, women dressed up, women in cartoon pajama bottoms, men with starched collars, men in horrible fitting suits, the shoulder seam falling off their arm. Nervous hands, typing hands, one hand on a jelly filled donut and the other smeared over a touch screen. Gross. People clenching five dollar Starbucks cups and heirloom rosaries. Toothy smiles and vacation days, hopefully spent somewhere warm, hopefully remembered through instal-cameras with too bright flash, clenched like truth through over exposed images. And I wonder if they’ll actually look back on these pictures one day, seriously reminisce, “and here we were waiting at the gate! Great times and 6 dollar bottled water!” God, I hate airports.

I guess this blog should be about the race. I’m excited to get to do a bit of racing this spring. Somehow it all worked out (kinda) with classes, despite having to cram a books worth of info while out in CA. The first NRC race of the year is nerve wracking. Our collegiate races have been very short, usually around 42 miles. Redlands stages are going to be twice as long and three times as fast. Almost literally, despite racing with the “B” men all season. Because sorry guys, although you love to make fun of womens racing and the ‘recipe exchange,’ you would be surprised (and dropped) by the amount of badass women out there. So I guess it’s time to go play bikes! The fast girls are fast

In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

2011-03-24T10:26:00.010-05:00

What a beautiful face I have found in this place that is circling all around the sun. What a beautiful dream that could flash on the screen in a blink of an eye and be gone from me

Soft and sweet
Let me hold it close and keep it here with me

And one day we will die and our ashes will fly from the aeroplane over the sea. But for now we are young, let us lay in the sun
And count every beautiful thing we can see
Love to be
In the arms of all I'm keeping here with me

-Netural Milk Hotel, From the Aeroplane over the sea.

Winter's gonna end soon. Summer's gonna roll in, bringing with it a good deal of travel, adventure, and sunshine. Headed to CA next week for a little Redlands action. Then, it's full speed ahead to finish this semester before 1)I go insane and 2) a little trip to Belgium.

100,000 reasons to love collegiate cycling...

2011-03-24T10:05:00.004-05:00

& Scott Rosenfield & friends at Northwestern U were able to make a site that illustrates it all.

Check it out. Here's a little write up I did on our ASU home race:

http://collegiatecyclingnews.com/conferences/accc/asu-preview

nationals...

2011-02-10T09:03:00.006-06:00

Probably should've been the biggest post on this silly blog, but the Milwaukee Journal Sential published a post of mine and a link without my permission (which I guess is fine, it is on the intranetz) but ever since I've been getting some views and comments I'd rather not. So I decided to keep this private for a while until whoever that was got a new hobby. I think they made chat roulette for people like you. Cause really, the only thing dorkier than having a blog, is stalking mine.

But anyways, nationals.

Strikes & gutter balls.

I won the collegiate race. That was cool. I figured I had a snowball's chance in hell, so I went for it in the beginning, got a little gap and kept it.

The elite/U23 race was later that day. Kaitie and I were racing for the U23. The first three laps we rode around together making silly faces like this:

But I think it was good for us. We pushed each other pretty hard and at one point we were riding in 8th. It felt pretty awesome to be doing well in the elite race at nationals!

Two-ish to go I had a dork attack and crashed pretty hard. The mud and fatigue of two races were wearing on me and I crashed pretty hard. It hurt alot to ride but I didn't want to DNF my last race of the year so I pedaled around the last two laps and lost like 20 spots. But I'm glad to have finished at least, although I couldn't put a race together that reflected how I felt that day. But that's bike racing! Kaitie rode on to finish 10th and win the U23 race. Somebody was trying to make rivals out of us, but I really couldn't think of anyone I'd rather race against, respect more, or would rather see do well than Kaitie. When I think back to racing cx in Wisconsin, wearing sweet flintstone costumes and falling over barriers (well, she never did that and I still do) it's crazy to think of the amount of hard work that's happened since.

So that was nationals. I wish I had another excuse to go back to Bend.

(Upon re-reading, I hope this blog doesn't sound too negative. It was really an awesome trip and 'cross this year was an incredible experience. I hope fifty years from now, when I reminisce about these adventures (from my personal space craft that I just completed time travel in. It is the future.) that I won't remember the mess ups, but I'll remember all the wonder. That wild sense of adventure that flooded the freeway nights, driving with with clayton 14 hours straight. The laughter as we stole bread from dumpsters, too poor and frugal to go buy a meal. I'll remember the songs of the Appalachians, the empty, beautiful space of the Midwest, and the promise of the Pacific ocean. And I hope I'll still be so grateful for the two wheels that took me to it all.

2010, I have to keep you folded up for now. But one day I'll take you back out. Like a sepia faded photograph, I'll trace your lines. I'll see new meanings in the contours. Like an old sweater, I'll find your holes, acknowledge all the heartbreak and sadness you brought me, and, hopefully, realize all the light in the good times. 2010 wasn't the death of my Dad and stepfather, but the rememberance of life. Of two men I was so fortunate to have in mine, and that sense of wonder. Of adventure. Of being 20 years old and driving down freeways at night with my best friend. Of riding bicycles, the simplicity of wonder and the complexity of travel. Through everything.

USGP Portland

2010-12-11T22:23:00.005-06:00

Clayton and I made the trip out to Portland! I would go into the intricacies of building cardboard double bike boxes, the art of moving exams, or the wonders of free inflight internet, but I'm gonna keep this pretty short after my novel on jingle cx.

USGP Day 1-

Somehow, I had enough UCI points for number 8 and my first ever USGP front row start. Way cool, but also nerve wracking. I was easily the most cat 5 person on the front row.

Thank God it was cold enough to wear leg warmers, or else the world would had seen the inevitable chain ring marks I probably had on my legs. Lined up next to all those badass women, I tried to stay calm. What if I clipped in and fell over? What if I cause a pile up before the corner? But really, does that ever happen? To anyone?

The course itself was fun- twisty, muddy, slick. The motocross whoops were back and a few running sections had ankle deep mud. Finally it was time to line up. The start. That brief moment where everyones together- before there's gaps to close or crashes to avoid or mud to not dab in. Where there race is still open and ahead of you, changes to push or moments tocrack. Obviously, I had my game face on:

The start was kind of crazy, but what would a cyclocross start be without a solid dose of cra-cra? I think there was a crash or two. There was definitely a stray trash can that blew across the course. I was lucky to avoid some mishap and rode the first two laps in 6th-7thish. Somepoint in the middle of race I flatted, tried to get another bike, but then it just wasn't happening anymore. I kind of lost it and went backwards from there.

Day two-

Just outside of the first corner there was a big pile up. I'm not sure what happened, but in a instant we were all facedown in three inches thick, cold sloppy mud. My bike was at the bottom of a wall of riders trying to get through. Nuts. I grabbed my bars and dragged my bike out. Finally, some race adrenaline! The leaders were gone, I was around 20th, but the chase made me want to go. After a few laps, I was around 8-10th. Riding past the start, I could see clayton. ASHLEY, GO PIT. What? I was expect a "good job" or maybe a "keep going" but not a "go switch bikes." I checked my rear tire. Not flat. My bike was a bit muddy, but nothing was sticking too bad. The cranks still spun. Why go pit? I looked down. D'oh. My bars were twisted to the right, probably since that first lap pile up.

It was one of thosethings- if I hadn't noticed it, I probably wouldn't had noticed it. But now I noticed it, and after pitting on day 1, I really didn't want to again. (One day I'll have this cross thing figured out. But for now, I fear the pits)

I finished 10th on the day and was looking forward to a week of exploring Portland.

This would be where I'd put up really awesome pictures of the Oregon coast- of the shore caves we explored and the waterfalls we climbed beneath and the silhouettes of rocks against the ocean. I'd post pictures of a seaside cafe where we ate pancakes and coffee and an overlooking view of the city from up Mt. Tabour. I'd even post an awesome picture of cats that read, "please stop smoking, we love you".... but I managed to delete my camera without uploading them all first. Urgh!

urgh.

Jingle cross rock (or a long journey westward to America's heartland and back)

2010-12-07T23:16:00.005-06:00

THIS WILL BE ANOTHER LONG BLOG. And sometime, in the distant and unforeseeable future, I will add photos to these blogs.

Jingle cross was this weekend. Or actually, as I'm publishing this, three weekends ago. I've never gone before but have always watched jealously as riders slid down a muddy mt. krumpit.

I woke up Friday morning to someone knocking on the hotel door. My usual strategy when someone knocks on the door- that is sitting silently and holding my breath until I'm certain they have left- failed. She keyed in. "Housekeeping! Oh, you no checkout?" Nope. Apparently renting a room for the night doesn't entitle you to camp out there all day with the heat cranked to 85.

So we packed up and found refugee from the cold at the Iowa City public library. I should probably explain how much I love public libraries.They're bright but not flourescence, and always warm- the inviting, cozy kind of warm not the overwhelming, cloying heat of gas stations. I love the rows of books. I love their hinting covers and imagining someone pouring into them, crafting each sentence and the pride they must've felt. I love the fuzzy hours and how the sun seeps in through windowed walls. I love the shadows that makes time crawl like reaching vines.

I love the library people, who tuck sweat pants into three pairs of socks just because it's warm. It'ss alright if I want to take off my shoes, and the wireless and outlets? Bonus.

The best part of the library today was watching the regulars- homeless with their turtle packs, peacoat men sweating pretension, and cat women in christmas sweaters (a stage I will inevitably reach one day)- mix with the incoming flood of bike people. I'd recognize those good fitting jeans and nalgene bottles anywhere. Libraries are awesome. If it weren't for the sticky film of syrup or preschool snot that covers the public computers, I could stay there forever. And some people do. You just can't sleep. Sleeping is against the rules.

Rock One. Finally race time rolled around. I wanted a good race so I could blog about it later. The sun set on Friday and It was cold. Really frickin' cold. I piled on all my jackets, double legs, tripe base layers and waddled out to the course to preride. It was a fun course- a mixture of fast technical grass corners, muddy off camber sections, a steep climb up mt. krumpit and an icy, off camber, 180 degree cornered descent. A stark difference compared to the warm, grassy crits we've raced all year and, yes, it was terrifying. I started the race with a front row start. Cool. After some reluctant jacking shedding and a very intense debate about the pros and cons of in race hat wearing, I towed the line and did my best to look like a cross racer. The gun went off and we charged down the start. For once, I had a good start. I clipped in on my first try and, what's that thing you're supposed to do instead of fumbling for your pedal at the start... sprinting. I, finally, sprinted down the start with the group and was third into the first few corners. We skated down the camber stretch, twisted through the flat grass section, and leaped over the barriers. I was still around third, and wondering what was going on. Why hadn't I been swarmed and passed yet? We rounded another corner and made our way up Mt. Krumpit for the first time. I could see our breath in the sky as we finished the climb and hovered on the edge of the descent. Man up, Ashley. I tried my best to not grab a fistful of breaks, but the fast girls flew past me anyways. Relieved, I made it down and found myself sixth and riding in the first group. And it was sweet, for the first half lap. I got excited and crashed on one of the many loose gravel corners. In a panicked dork attack, I struggled to get my chain back on just outside the entrance to the pit.Change bikes! Change bikes! "No guys, I got this!" An eternity later I set back out on the course around 16th place, and the tone was set. It was a hard race for me. I couldn't keep up my bike upright if anything depended on it. I rolled in for 8th and it was mildly relieving to see so many other girls finishing with bloody knees and ripped leg warmers. At least I wasn't alone. I had to smile. Cross is awesome.

Rock Two. "I should have ran. I really should have. Why didn't I ever run this fall?" Lap one, about half way, we rounded a corner and came face to face with giant, muddy wall. Unclip. Lift the bike. Run. "Oh yeah. Because running sucks."

Day two brought slightly warmer day time temperatures and a longer course. After the officials checked tire widths, lined us up, and told us we looked really cool in our skin suits or something like that, the whistle blew and we were off. As it turned out, my good start on Friday was a fluke. A few corners in, the course doubled back on itself and I could see just how far back I was. There goes the race. I told myself to relax. That I would make up ground on the run up. Don't laugh. That's more of a lie than, "the big box of cookies will last longer" or "the open book counts as studying." But I put my head down and rode as well as I could, concentrating on not doing anything dumb or too dorky. Finally, onetogoonetogoonetogo! I was 6th. Turning to the corner to the run up for the final time, I could see 4th and 5th halfway up. If only... I got off my bike and pretended I was a runner. The gap was closing. Maybe they were tired, or maybe (more likely..) they weren't putting all their eggs into the top-of-the-run-up basket like I was (there was still 3/4 of a lap left), but I was catching them. I made contact at the top of the hill when.. AHH CATION TAPE. It was everywhere. I panicked and dorkily got tape twisted through my shifters. The run up was packed with people dancing and screaming. Someone started yelling for me to keep going, to pull out the tape and keep running. But I don't handle pressure well and soon the tape was twisted though my hands and other shifter. I think someone was laughing at me, but it's okay 'cause I was laughing too. Finally, I slayed the tentacles of the cation tape beast and rolled down the hill for an oh- so- smooth 6th place.

Rock Three.

One last chance for a good race, or at least to look cool riding around for 45 minutesWarming up, I felt tired and sick. My legs were beat. As fun as three days of cx is, it sure is hard. I'm too old for this. In my third- day- of- cross stupor, I endo-ed trying to follow claytons "fast line" down mt. krumpit. It was as graceful as you can imagine and, because the non UCI races didn't do the descent, someone told I me I was, "The first person to eat shit down mt. krumpit." I'm not sure if that's true or not, but if it were, that's kinda cool, right? But anyways, race time rolled around. The whistle blew and we were off. I was with a small ground and then I crashed and lost kaitie, and then I was by myself for most of the race. It was pretty uneventful. I rode around the best I could and finished 5th- my best for the weekend.

So that was the weekend. No great results, no epic cross battle stories, not even a tall tale to embellish. Just a 14 hour drive, three solid days of racing, and alot of fun. I had to smile.Everyone out there wants to win. Everyone out there guts out their race, leaving it all on the line. I have to treasure that process, even if it doesn't always end how I wanted. Plus, we got to stay with Kristen, Dave, and Cider friday and saturday, which was really awesome!

So now it's Wednesday. I must've eaten some bad tofurkey cause I've been out with food poisoning since monday morning. Despite living on pretty gnarly, almost expired food (I am frugal), this has been rough. I'm really anxious about not riding all week, especially with USGP Portland in two days and nationals next weekend, but that's how it goes. On the bright side, it turns out if you're a student at app and have been too sick to eat or drink for three days and go into health services weighing 114 lbs at almost 5'9 due to dehydration, they give you a whole box of Gatorade in any flavor. Even blue! Score!

And if you didn't believe me when I said this would be long, know that when it comes to blogs, I don't mess. They are very, very serious. (And don't think I don't stalk you too)

Off to Portland! I don't know what I'm more excited about- the racing, or spending a whole week hanging out in Portland/ Bend.

I'm going to open a shrimping business

2010-11-26T11:01:00.007-06:00

Unless you plan you pursue a doctorate, a degree in Psych doesn't offer much. This is especially true if you've had 5 declared majors in two years and a transcript of everything from ceramics to cell bio to feminist writers.

They compensate by making us take a "careers" class where we write resumes and realize how little we've accomplished in the crazy, hectic last few years.

“Ashley, what do you do outside of school besides, what does this all say here? bicycles... racing...what?” She said the words as if I'd written that I torture puppies or rob the homeless in my spare time. .

“I.. well... outside of school I like to race bikes.” She waits for an explanation. “ Cycling. It’s fun, but um, takes up alot of time... so I don’t have too much else to put down.”

“Okay, but what else do you do? Where do you work? Volunteer? Are you on a student project committee?”

“No.. I mean, I take 18 hours and race as much as I can. That plus training takes up alot of time and..”

“Well do you do any school sports? Activities?”

“No... what?”

“Sports. Do you play any sports? Have you ever played sports? Where do you work? How many hours a week?”

“Uerhm..”

“Well, what do you do when you’re not studying? Any student activites?”

“I played ping pong in the union building freshmen year.” Defeated.

“See, for some of you who haven't accomplished anything outside of school, you need to elaborate on any extracurricular you might have. Just make them sound interesting., “ She crossed out cycling, which apparently I didn't make sound interesting, and wrote down ping-pong.

PING. PONG.

So there’s the story of how I’ve got a job resume to rival forest gump. Whatever.

Will you hire me?

Hendersonville/ rambles

2010-11-24T08:29:00.018-06:00

I kind of wish it took longer than 20 minutes to pack up everything I love. I kinda wish it took less. I wish had a cabin in the woods. Maybe in upstate new york, but definitely with a wood stove. I kinda wish I didn't have a home- that I could wander on some overly romanticized journey of highway sunsets and late night radio, freight trains, windy roadside shoulders and cloying diner heat.

But really, I'm up in the Appalachian mountains, typing on my mac book, waiting to walk to statistics class.

Then I'll sit down in my desk. The room will be silent. Kids will be texting or typing on facebook chat. I'll open my computer and- COWBELL COWBELL COWBELL. Pounce on the mute. Stares. Cx videos left open, playing full volume. So awkward.Yes, I'm watching videos people in spandex body suits running with bikes. Don't worry about it.

A girl will walk in smelling like peanut butter and old cigarette. She'll sit down next to me, thinking I have the answers. But really, if I were any good at this math would I be in this class? We are in Stats 1020 for non-math majors for a reason. And class will start someone will speak, and that girl will scratch the head, and a cell will ring, and time will dissolve and I'll kind of wish I hadn't wasted it.

Just glad it will be over soon and I won't be trying to not dropped by the a-holes at the front of the room pushing the pace.

And I guess that's about it for all these days- along with a bit of trainer riding and smash-my-forehead-against-the-table studying. And thank God that's almost over. Sometimes, it seems the only thing keeping us sane here are the mountains.It's so unbelievably beautiful.

Everywhere you go, they surround you like walls. Cold and silent in the mornings, they force the sun to rise higher, scraping at the top of the sky, before a new days light can pour through the branches and drip down the mountain side.

The mountains will let you hide. They'll let you sleep, but they won't let you out. Even after you've climbed their peaks, hiking hours through the woods and shimmying up a rock face, atop the over look you'll just find more. Peaks higher than yours, waves and waves of them, until somewhere, they fall off into the sea.

You can't fight the mountains. They are big. They are lonely. And you just have to come to terms. You just have to adjust. You can build a campfire to starve off darkness, but you can't stop these walls from hiding the sun.

It's so incredibly beautiful.

Last weekend we raced in hendersonville, just over an hour from the apartment.

Friday was a day that didn't happen. I don't remember doing anything particularly useful. Which means I probably didn't. Saturday we woke up and drove to the race. Ate "breakfast" along the way- really just white wonder-bread andpeanut butter. I used to get excited about packing/preparing for races like it were some great adventure, but now, I just kinda dip the bread in jar and try to smile when I hand over a grimy, peanut butter filmed license at registration. oops.

I stalked the pre entry list before the race (and don't act like you don't do that too!) Although it wasn't a stacked USGP field, they would still be good, fun races. The the course was fun, too (everyone can appreciate a fast, fun, mostly downhill cx course!) With not many girls in the race having uci points, I had a front row start. Sweet! Although I still got the reverse hole shot. Seriously. Doh! Deidre Winfield and I rode around for a while until 1 to go. I was looking forward to getting to race the finish, but unfortunately she rolled a tire in the last lap.

The next day we had a group of three. We rode around for a few laps and nothing too exciting happened. I was concentrating on trying to keep my dork attacks under control during the race. Really. Having a blog should fill up my dork quota for the week. But anyways, it ended in a sprint. There were three of us going into the final corner, I was third. The girl second wheel went down and I think Dedrie and I were both unclipped and in goofy gears after losing alot of momentum going around the crash. We sprinted and I nipped her at the line (don't look suprised! There is a first for everything?)

Unfortunately, Clayton ended up having about as much bad luck over the weekend as I had good. It was a huge bummer.

so it was a kinda neat.

Now, I'm procrastinating packing up for jingle cross. It'll be cold there, huh.

And as of now, I will update this blog more. I've used the three T's to move my finals (trickery, thievery, and tomfoolery) (maybe not so much though) and this blog is going to be part of one. It's "writing for an audience." Apparently, we were supposed to have been writing a newspaper column or something all semester. It came as a surprise to me too.

CYCLINGNEWS DAY 1/ CYCLINGNEWS DAY 2

USGP Louisville

2010-10-24T10:17:00.005-05:00

Once again, a much delayed race report. And a bad one at that. This semester has just been ridiculous! And late night trainer rides- the only time I have now- has been about as much fun. But really, just 7 more school days left. Then we leave for Portland/nationals before returning to some sweet, sweet exams.

But anyways, USGP Louisville.

Since a world cup had just happened, this years UCI points went into account for the line up.

Number 9! Good enough for a first ever call up! Or, to gain some more spots.....

(kidding!)

The races didn't go as well for me. .

Day 1- dropped the anchor

Day 2- Had a dork attack in the sand & messed up both my bikes in the first lap.

In the few weeks since, I've been a troll: Grumping about, trying to squeeze in trainer rides between school, projects, and the bummers of the real world, and beginning hibernation (or at least the gorging phase.) But we did do some sweet collegiate races in the ACCCCccc, ASU took home the team conference championships, and I'm hoping to find some race legs for Hendersonville this weekend.

In other news, I might have a new blogger one day and it just might have real race reports.

UCI3

2010-10-11T12:09:00.011-05:00

The start to this weekend was epicaly, comically bad.

In bike racing, it’s pretty much given that something will go wrong sometime. It happens to everyone. But into UCI3, from a race standpoint, nothing really went right.

It was a hard decsion to race. It’s been an unimaginably rough week during which I hadn't touched a bike. On top of that, I had an upper respiratory infection that turned into a once every few years-getting woken up by fever-losing my voice for several days- being exhausted by stairs kind of sick. We’ve jokingly been calling it ‘the black lung’ after that scene in Zoolander.

But I would be wearing my Attitude Sports skinsuit this weekend, for Jeff, and I wanted to show it off.

Rolling up to the race Friday, my heart was heavy, my mind not in the game, my lungs felt like water balloons, and my legs felt really “rested” after not riding for over a week and spending hours in the car.

I registered, got my bike out, rolled around clicking though the gears when- snap. My shifter broke (again) less than an hour to the start. Go figure.

I am lucky, though, and thanks to Clayton, some haggling, begging, and cx bike magic later, I rolled up to the line just in time.

This first day of racing didn't go too well. I felt sick, Jeff was in my mind, I had no fight. So I quit, and that felt even worse.

We packed up to head back to North Carolina. I was ready for a break. There would be other weeks for cross. But as the mile markers on the freeway grew, I felt another kind of sick. I asked Clayton if we could go back to the race and he smiled.

I am lucky.

Saturday’s race was alright. The course was fun- a great mix of twisty corners and long straights. It looked like it hadn’t rained in a long time and the dry, dusty air had everyone coughing. I threw a bottle cage on for the race, which helped a little bit but looked so uncool (although I'm not really concerned with being cool. I have a blog, after all) but the only thing that could’ve hurt more than racing was dropping out again. I finished 8th, good enough for a few uci pts.

Sunday’s race, Harbin Park, has a special place in my heart. Mostly because it’s the home of the first time I had Skyline Chili. A vegetarian black bean and rice baked potato smothered in gobs of cheese... mmm. It was brutally hot out and the course featured some long straight sections that just baked in the sun. It would be a hard race, and although I was still feeling really sick coughing like a plague (which is a good way to clear out a line at subway) I had a better mindset and was ready to fight.

Into the first corner I was around 20th and that first lap I did what I could to move up. By the end of the first lap, I could see the chase group up ahead finally made contact with them by the second lap. Laura VanGuilder won the sprint for 2ed behind Katie Compton, Kaitie A finished third, and I rode in for fourth just ahead of Sue Butler who unfortunately had a mechanical in the last 100 meters. It felt good to be riding in good company and in my Attitude Sports skinsuit, for Jeff.

So I guess that's about it. I always feel awkward trying to give a recap of the race becuase I guess my perception of what happened really isn't that interesting. Also, it feels weird to focus on the actual race, which comprises such a small part of why I love cross. It's the camaraderie, something that anyone who's ever been to a cross race has experienced. I've met so many beautiful, kind people through this sport. I've been so fortunate to stumble into this small, crazy, spandex clad culture. I can't ignore the heartbreak and tragedy that has recently fallen into our lives, but at the same time I can't give up on bicycles. It's the friendship, the passion, the mobility, and the freedom. And within all of that, is always hope.

For some real race reports from the weekend:

VELONEWS / CYCLINGNEWS

Headwinds

2010-10-01T21:58:00.011-05:00

The first few years I knew Jeff, I was terrified of him. Now, of course, it seems ridiculous- being afraid of the man that cut rides short to save street crossing turtles, or made the family "Jeffy Joes' for dinner. But then, as he rolled up to my first wednesday night ride decked out with zipps, and tattoos of hunting tigers, I held my breath.

Who are these people?

I was new to cycling. I had just gotten into racing and had heard there was a group ride leaving from dousman on wednesdays. I didn’t not know about bib shorts and there may or may not have been a visor on my helmet. When the ride began, it was hard. Unbelievably hard. I spun and spun until I got dropped, took a shortcut, got back in, and then got double dropped. Standing around after the ride, my legs burnt. My throat ached from breathing. I was rolling around debating how to get my sorry butt home when I made eye contact with Jeff. My face grew red. I tried to look the other way, but is it ever a good idea to run from the guy with stalking tigers tattoos?

He started towards me. I knew he was going to talk about the ride, tell me I shouldn't show up next week, that this group was too fast, too experienced, that I was wasting my time.

But instead, "Is this your first ride?" "Well nice ride. We'll see you next week."

And like that, I felt welcomed into the cycling community. A spandex clad ambassador opened the door for me into their clicky toe, muli-colored group.

Thanks to Jeff, I was one of countless.

But I guess that's the thing about Jeff. He was always the first to make someone feel welcomed. He had so much passion for what he did and so much love for not only his friends and family, but complete strangers that he went out of his way to help anyone, anyway. He was a nice person. The real nice, that if I can just try to emulate, I'll be doing better.

And now, it seems like the grief won't ever stop. It's the little things, of course. I can't believe we won't see Jeff roll up to a ride wearing full finger gloves, red shoe covers, and just a skin suit, rolled, cuffed and tucked in. I wish I had smiled when Jeff’s eyes would widen and he'd bite his tongue as he tried to keep from telling me my jersey and shorts didn't match. (I know Jeff, I just didn't do laundry, again)

Or Tatum. Jeff loved that dog so much. It breaks my heart to remember the way he'd alternate between kissing "the best little girl in the world" and feeding her powerbars because he wanted her to be ripped.

And all those early spring rides that were completely miserable. Cold, long, boring. 5:30 in the morning. I would ride behind Jeff for hours, counting down the time before I could go back to sleep. I never told you this Jeff, but I get it. Those morning rides were so beautiful I can’t even explain. Helium skies high above the new day and sunbeams that fell like anchors from the sun, solidifying us in its warm. I would understand if you wanted to keep that sunrise to yourself, but you always let me come with.

Jeff's service is going to be huge. If half the whose lives he touched showed up, that tiny Cudahay church will be packed. But grief is a measure of how much we loved. And all that greif, that love, won't fit inside the church. It will melt through the windows and pour out beneath the doors. That love will flow out into the world and sink deep into the soil. It will fill the trees and give energy to each blade of grass. It will evaporate into the air and swirl into the wind. That love will pour like sunbeams, and we will breath it. Into our bodies and back out into the world, our own selves not only matching this world but blending with it. Seemlessly and beautifully. Harmoniously, in a breath. Beacause in that grief, that love, there is celebration of a beautiful life.

When riding, Jeff used to tell us that “a headwind is our friend. I’d always laugh because, no, they really aren’t.

But riding today, I felt the wind. Warm wind. Not a note of winter. The kind that fills you with summer evenings and wednesday rides. And I could feel you, Jeff, riding with us again, making us stronger. I could feel you in the sky, more blue than October should ever be. I can hear you in my bike, in the shifting of gears, the clicks drifting up to the heavens and filling out space. I could feel you in the sun that tattooed patterns on my skin. I could feel you in the wind, pacing, rythmic. And for the first time, Jeff, I felt stronger in that wind. For the first time, I believed in those headwinds. In this headwind. Thank you Jeff, for everything. We will all miss you.

Hello Wisconsin!/USGP Madison

2010-09-28T07:42:00.005-05:00

Growing up, I always thought it was awesome that That 70's Show was set in Wisconsin. I didn't realize it was satire until like, yesterday. But still, I don't understand how anyone could not love the finer aspects of what wisconsin has to offer- brats, beer, cheese, and super fandom. We have Packer flags that wave in april and cheese head shrines sitting atop the almightly television. But what about when the game's on Monday? Is there any situation where it's not only acceptable, but encouraged to be screaming and heckling and drinking at 9 am?

Yes.

Cyclocross.

USGP MADISON.

Racing at home was awesome. I'll leave the race reports to those who are paid to ramble on the internet, but all in all, the weekend was a ton of fun. I got my best results so far in a USGP as well- 10th on Saturday and 7th on Sunday.

It's a long way to Bend from here. I'm excited to do everything I can to race my best and see how this season unfolds

CYCLINGNEWS / CXMAGAZINE / VELONEWS

Back!

2010-09-24T20:21:00.010-05:00

I hate twitter. Maybe because I don't want to limit my internet-ual rambling to 140 characters and I don't want to believe others can be more conscice. Maybe because I can't read twitter talk, having to sound out each letter, whispering creepily into my extra large, extra american americano at starbucks. (Cnt txt4 nthn) Maybe because I'm too much of an A-hole to be unirritated when my 9th grade teachers' cousins' boyfriend retweets inspirational qoutes or praises God for badgers win. But despite the reasoning, I perfer to communicate the old fashioned way. Yes, texting. I love the thrill of learning a new keyboard and texting under my desk during a lecture. Living on the edge.

And the only thing I love more than texting? When things rhyme only when you mispronounce them. The only thing I love more than Lil Wayne? Random and unrelated introductions to new blogs.

I made this little guy private for about a week +. I don't know why, you peepin' Tom. But now it's back and after being recently moving into the Appalachain mountains and getting into the swing of a new school, I am ready to resurrect it. Also, I now have a real email address which can only mean one thing: Another free trial of photoshop! No, I do not feel bad for being on my 9th 30 day free trial. Yes, I do secretly feel like I'm in the computer hacking scene of a crime movie when I enter a fake yahoo email address and click, No Adobe, I do not want to hear about other products and promotions. Because I am a computer program sniper (for 30 days).

But anyways, the mountains are nice. We regularly ride above 4,000 feet. I hear it gets cold here in the winter, too. And school is school. Back to reading text books like the Good Word and calling bike rides study breaks.

Did a few collegiate mtn bike races. Clayton and I have done a few nights of "urban camping" or temporary homelessness, depending on how full your glass is.

A few pictures from Virginia Tech race weekend:

On another note, I can feel the changes begin.

The sky is lowering, the world cast in tones of grey, and fields of summer vision cut down for harvest. I still think about it sometimes, usually when I'm alone and unable to tune out those intruding thoughts with Miley Cyrus promising me it is, indeed, a party in the USA. But now, in this weather, the thoughts are more intrusive.

It always begins with heavy breathing. And lots of mud. My legs, spinning in velcro shoes. Grass. Barriers.....

But then reality seeps back in. My hands shake, and like any addict, I need a fix. Cyclocross.

And now It's here. This weekend. USGP Madison.

Looking forward to playing bikes again this weekend.

Fun is fun is fun, if nothing else

5 states, 7 days... 0 races?

2010-07-14T11:03:00.013-05:00

No rest for the wicked? Hopefully not. How about no rest for the incredibly antsy.

I'm transferring to ASU this semester for school. After the past few months of playing bike racer, this descent back into the real world of deadlines, the logistics of transferring schools, and the disorganized reality of moving has been a bit overwhelming. Ah, stress. Bummer.

After a quick laundry exchange, I drove down to Kentucky the day after getting back from Bend. From there, Clayton and I drove down to Boone, NC to find an apartment.

We stopped along the way to hang out on the lake with good friends

before continuing on down to North Carolina the next day. After finding an apartment at the tippy top of the tallest mountain and signing a lease like a real adult (yeah!) we did some backwoods camping before driving back to Kentucky the next day.

We hiked across a river to find a flat spot to camp.

What's camping without moccasins?

And like true girl scouts, we used rocks from the river to make a fire pit. Yeah!

Two days after Boone, Clayton and I were lucky enough to head out to St. Louis with very good peoples. I wish I could put up pictures of the trip but they just won't seem to upload. Anyways, we went to the Arch and to City Museum, aka the coolest place I have/will ever go. It's a 600,000 square foot ex-shoe factory turned childrens museum where there aren't any rules and you can climb on/over/under everything. The place is so wild and the climbing is so hard it's a miracle the place is still open. And despite being a childrens museum, and depsite being mostly kids, 20 was the perfect ago to go. 10/10***!!!

What a busy summer it's been. Now I'm home for two weeks before moving everything down to North Carolina.

I've been very fortunate this summer to do so much racing and traveling. Big thanks to Attitude Sports for helping me get to nationals and to everyone else who've helped me this first half of the season. I'm so grateful!

Till the next adventure!

Nationals

2010-07-13T09:42:00.007-05:00

"Also, when I arrived home in New York City, I asked a United representative where my oversized bag would emerge. "What's your idea of an oversized bag?," she replied. Until then I had no idea that it was up to me to determine whether my bag was oversized, nor did I have the wherewithal after a long flight to enter into a philosophical discussion about relativity. I explained that, according to United, my bag was oversized, but she still didn't believe me. Finally, I said, "It's a bicycle," and she finally said, "Ohhh," like I had just told her I was traveling with the corpse of a deceased relative, and she basically explained that it could emerge from pretty much anywhere." -bikesnobnc

Thank you delta for giving me an irrelevant amount of "skymiles" in trade for destroying my bike box and equipment, although I only flew with you because good ol' southwest wasn't going to work out.

But anyways, Nationals. It seems so long ago already. Where did summer go?!

The TT was 35k- 20k up a climb out and back, and then 15k of a flat loop. It was just three days after NVGP and my legs were feeling the effort! With time trials, you can only ride as hard as you can ride. The strongest person wins and if you "could have gone harder," then that's your own fault. With that in mind, I rode as hard as I could and I guess I should be happy with that effort, although I think I should've paced out that long 35k differently. My time put me in for 5th U23.

The next day brought an evening crit in downtown Bend. Not much to say about the crit. U23 and Elite women raced together which made for a much more exciting, and quicker race. I got caught behind both crashes, which is my fault for being all over the back of the field. After the first crash I got pushed back in at the wheel pit just as a few girls in the field threw bottles. The mechanic pushing me in laughed as I got pelleted. I laughed too, until I realized the field had passed and I was OTB. It was sweet chasing on with 6 to go! Another crash comming into 2 to go took out alot of the sprinters and split up the field again. I rolled in for 24th/70ish starters

We had a day off before the 116k RR. Jackie and I found teepees!!

The road course was beautiful- pine trees, rivers, snow capped mountains in the background. I love Bend!

Two big climbs. One less steep but long up through the feed zone, and then another soon after that had a steep section into a seemingly endless uphill. Looking back, it was really, really hard! We had about 80 women start. It was a quick race and into the last lap, our front group had about 30. Four went up the last climb and stayed away the last few miles into the finish. I ended up 15th, 3rd U23.

And so ended nationals and a long block of racing. We made it home safely, and all's well that ends well I guess. despite the headache, nationals was alot of fun. It was great to see alot of old and new friends and to explore the sunnier version of Bend we didn't see during CX Nationals. I learned alot too, like ringing the one to go bell is alot less exclusive than one might suspect.

Till next time!

Bend, OR

2010-06-24T12:31:00.007-05:00

Finally made it out to Bend! It feels so good to be back. It's gorgeous out here, even prettier in the summer, and the town is incredible.

It's been an eventful past three days. Nature Valley ended on sunday, we drove home then packed up Monday, and flew out here early Tuesday. I wish there was a national championship for a breaking all imperative equipment just before you race category. I'd dominate that every time.

Nationals by the numbers:

1 cancelled flight

1 destroyed bike bag (thank you delta)

1 bent derailleur

1 effed up carbon fork

2 flatted tubulars

2 hours haggling with baggage claim

3 trips to a bike shop

and finally, just in time, 2 working bikes!

Time trial in four hours! Crit tomorrow, road race sunday.

Nature Valley Grand Prix

2010-06-21T11:02:00.016-05:00

2010 NVGP is in the books!

Where to start... I guess this "race report" begins Tuesday afternoon. Jackie and I had a short drive in to MN, leaving us time to visit the mall of america. It didn't take long to become lost... or see an indoor amsument park. So it is true!

Anyways, we had a fun team at the race- Denise, Jenn, Jackie, Amity, Anna, Melisa and Silke. A big field- about 100- and lots of very fast women.

Wednesday morning brought stage 1- a 6.1 mile time trial, Eddy Merx style, with a half mile climb at the end. Ouch. 6:30 Wednesday night brought the stage race's first crit in downton st. Paul. It was kind of a crazy course with 100 women- tight corners, rough pavement, but more fans than I've ever seen at a bike race. It was so cool!

The race felt fast. Spent the whole hour on the rivet, got caught behind a crash, chased back on (ouch) and was happy to finish in the field. Because it's a stage race, a field finish equals the same time as anyone else in that pack. I didn't lose any time but moved up a few spots on the general classification

Thursday was stage three- a 65 mile RR finishing in a crit like circuit. We didn't race till 5:30 so that morning the team went out for a spin and spent a few hours at a coffee shop- the stage race usual! That's the upside to late day racing. The downside about evening starts (for me at least) is how that start time looms above the day like a constant, daunting reminder of what's to come. It terrifies me. But as all time does, 5:30 came soon enough. We drove to the race, kitted up and rolled around beneath bright blue skies. According to my weather app (hah!), there was a slight chance of rain arriving later, but the winds were supposed to die down as the evening set in. Iphone weather, you were so wrong.

As we were called for staging, the skies lowered. Green tinted clouds rolled in with the winds. The winds were grew wild, and we heard reports of predicted 60 mph gusts. After waiting on the start line for seemingly forever, after pre-race instructions and rider call ups, the race was called off. The sudden change of plans was a bit of a shock, butI was psyched. A day off sounded really, really good. And it was only day two! The men, who started their race a half hour before us, were stopped and rolled back into town.

Mother Nature won stage three.

Stage four- Friday was another evening crit. Not much to say about this race. It was fast. Or maybe I'm just slow :) I finished in the field and didn't lose any time.

Stage five- Saturday brought a 76 mile RR with a few queen of the hills points and sprint lines. I'm not sure why they the race promoters insisted on calling the climbs hills. Sure, maybe "mountains" would be an exaggeration (the race WAS in wisconsin) but they were really, really, hard hills. Stupidly steep "hills" that always had another twist or bend and never seemed to end. The race went hard up the second QOH and then guttered into the cross wind. Ouch, ouch, ouch. I kept telling myself to hold on for 5 more seconds, then three more, then just to that piece of gravel, until finally the race let up on a descent. These women are strong! The field split, and I was happy to be on the front side of it in the front group. The rest of the race felt hard- all the way up to the crazy 18 corner finishing circuit. A break of Erinne Willock (Webcor Builders) and Linda Melanie Villumsen (HTC-Columbia) was up the road and the yellow jersey wearing team (Shelly Evans and Peanut Butter & Co) was chasing hard from the front of the field. They are fast, I was dying. I got popped two corners to go but moved up a bit in the GC.

Finally, stage 6! Stillwater! Sunday's "Criterium" has a climb 1/8 mile climb at 22%. It is a wall. I had a call up for Kenda on the stage. It was cool, but I felt pretty undeserving on the front now! After five stages of being "on the rivet" the whole time, I felt pretty rough today!

Got through the day finished the stage race 36th GC, and 4th in top amateur.

6 hard races in 5 days, I couldn'more tired! But I need to get my game face on to tackle this pile of laundry. It is huge.

Flying out to Bend, OR. tomorrow for nationals!

Winter happened yesterday, but it's coming back tomorrow. Enjoying this slice of summer while it lasts. See you in Bend!

Tulsa Tough

2010-06-16T14:56:00.006-05:00

I am not tulsa tough.

More or less, I've wasted my last 20 winters. As soon as the weather turns sour, I hibernate. If you give me food, I might wake up, wide eyed and blinking, but I'll probably yell at you. Winter makes me grumpy. So when I heard the forecast for Tulsa, OK would be well into the 90''s fahrenheit, I said, "Eff that, diz weather ain't got shit." Or something like that.

The drive down to Tulsa, Oklahoma was about 11 hours, not including stops. We were lucky to have Ross's team van for the trip . Hello leg room!

Not much to say about the actual racing. Friday night's crit had about about 65 starters-alot of teams were split between Tulsa and Philly. Didn't drink enough for the heat, felt cold despite being hot, and the closest I came to seeing the front of the race was a picture on velonews I looked up later on. Needless to say, seeing 1 to go was a relief!

Saturday night brought another hot crit. with the same amount of starters. I felt better but went down in a crash and caught up in another. Hellloooo wheelpit! Again, finished midpack but was in no way part of the race.

Sunday's crit featured "heart break hill" and a pretty fast descent with an over 90* corner. It was another hot day and after a few hard laps up the hill the field dwindled a bit. A well represented break went off the front after a K(Q)OM sprint and nine girls stayed away. Finished 22ed. So it wasn't the greatest weekend placing-wise, but the races were so much fun. It was really cool to see the whole town so into the bike races and to race with such a strong group of women.

A highlight of the trip had to be the host housing. It's kind of a risk to bill yourself as a poor bike racer needing a place to stay in whatever random city you're in and to accept whatever, although certainly generous by nature, place is offered. We've been lucky so far, but this house was incredible. Despite being a beautiful home in the suburbs, they raised their own chickens, had a sweet rock climbing wall, pool, and tree fort. What else do you need? The family was incredible and we were so grateful to stay with them.

Tulsa Tough? Not this year. Looking forward to being home for a week and before Nature Valley GP and then flying out the day after for nationals in Bend, OR.

Snake Alley/Melon City/Quad Cities Criterium

2010-06-02T16:26:00.011-05:00

Last weekend I found myself out in Iowa for one of biggest-and most fun- regional race weekends of the year. Jackie, Jen, Kelley, and I loaded up Kelley's mountaineer and somehow squeezed ourselves in. I guess one of the perks of being a poor bike racer/college student is that you find creative ways to cram way too much luggage into an impossibly small space. Finally, all those years of tetrus can be used! We headed out to Iowa friday morning and expected to stay the next three nights in your typical slightly comfortable yet mostly clean econolodge. We were pretty surprised when we got to the hotel! Gargoyles greeted us at the driveway and the inside was decorated with a strange mix of medieval and German decor.

But that's not all. If you want a really special experience, the econolodge offers "Phanta-suites" where you can spend the night in a themed room. Below is a picture of the "space odyssey" themed suite. Another "Phanta-suite" had a plaster igloo and mounted polar bear. The Cinderella Suite had a 5 foot tall horse replica. Super tacky and you could see the layer of dirty from the photo, but needless to say, I know where Team Kenda will be staying next year!

We could totally sleep four in that space capsule. No worries.

Anyways, I had a bit of a shifter mishap while pre riding the snake Friday evening.

Without a shifter to replace my broken one, our Kenda team director Paul was kind enough to let me use his bike for the weekend. It was a bit sketchy trying to reach the brakes/drops , but overall the bike worked beautifully and I was so grateful to have a bike to ride during the weekend.

Saturday brought the first race of the weekend- Snake Alley. For those who don't know, the Snake Alley "Criterium" not only features 5 cobbled switch backs averaging 12.5%, but an equally steep block long climb leading up to the switch backs and a fast, technical descent. By our 2:15 start Saturday morning, temperatures were reaching mid-high 90s! It was hot out, and we had over 50 women toeing the start line. The start gun with off, and we started at a full sprint towards the first corner towards the base of the snake. With over 50 people funneling towards the narrow base of the switch backs, the race can get pretty hairy at the beginning. I got a bit bogged down behind riders the first two laps up the snake, but after that everything was spread out enough to be smooth. Mike Wakeley, our Kenda mechanic was waiting at the top of the snake to spray us with cool water each lap. It was the best! Mike and his wife Mary are awesome people and their help and company this entire weekend was incredible. I ended up finishing third to Amanda Miller who won. Inside the top 10 we had Kristen W. in 4th, Jill K. 6th, and Kelley Hess in 7th. A great day for Team Kenda!

The Melon City Criterium was next. Like yesterday, tempertures were mid-90's. But this time it was humid too. Urgh. The course was long with a fast descent, speed bump at the bottom (of course), another big climb, and two corners. Unlike Snake Alley, this race was more "crit like" and we were able to race as a team and use our numbers today. We had a big/awesome team and raced aggressively to keep the pace high. Kirsten W. got into a break that looked promising but when even that came back, the race looked to be a field sprint. At some point during the race, the PRC girl who took second yesterday got away. I didn't know she was off the front until about three to go. We went to the front to try to bring her back but she ended up taking the win. Kaitie A. had an awesome sprint to win the field sprint and take second! Yeah!

Quad Cities Criterium was the third and final day of racing. We woke up to some promising rain clouds and although it's a great course- pan flat with 8 corners and a short finishing stretch, it wouldn't have been as fun in the rain! I was feeling pretty tired by the third day and decided to just race the 1/2/3 race and not the 2/3 race earlier in the day.

We had several Kenda girls in the 2/3 race and then the cat 4 race right after. It ended up raining just before the 2/3 race and carnage ensured. Several of our girls went down, poor Monique and Jenn ended up at the hospital, but luckily everyone was okay! Nothing broken!

It was dry by our 2:30 start and we had another pretty big field. We went into the race with the same plan as the day before- to keep the pace high, cover everything, and save our three sprinters- Catherine, Jackie and Kaitie- for the finish. It was a fun race! Lots of primes kept the race interesting- Kristen W., Jackie K, and I each won one. After one of the primes, I think, Kristen Meshburg attacked and I went with. We were off the front together for a few laps but I couldn't match her pace when I pulled through. I looked back to see Kristen W. bridging with a group of three. It looked promising but the field was close behind. With 3 to go, Kristen M. attacked again. It took everything I had to chase her back. On the last lap, Lindsey and Beth did a great lead out but unfortunately there was a pretty big pile up into the last corner. Kristen M was unstoppable today and won the sprint for the win. She rode an amazing race and it's always cool to see the ladies you race against all summer do well. Our highest Kenda finisher was Catherine Walberg in 5th, then Jackie K. in 7th.

Overall, the weekend was so much fun. Kenda girls put in too many awesome rides to list or remember, and everyone rode really well. I learned so much about team racing. We really have an awesome team both on and off the bike!

Although I have yet to unpack from this weekend, this afternoon I'm leaving for Tulsa, OK. for three NRC crits. The temps. look to be in the high 90's again! Better get used to it...

That was a long one! Thanks for reading!

Home

2010-06-01T15:06:00.007-05:00

In an attempt to do at least one semi-productive thing today, I've been staring at this blog page for about an hour now attempting to recap the past few weeks. After collegiate nationals I was finally home for a while and took the time to get in some good training, build up a sweet new TT bike, bake tons and tons of cookies, and race two local crits. One of those crits was Wheels on Willy. We had a huge team there- 9 rides in a field of 30. It was an odd situation, but fun for us and a great chance to practice some teamwork. From the start, Kenda girls threw down attacks. About ten minutes in I jumped an Iscorp rider came with. We rode together for a few laps until the iscorp rider began to fall off. I looked back to see Kristen W. bridging up.

For the next 30 minutes or so, Kristen and I rode steady off the front while our other Kenda girls stopped any attempts from the field to bridge up to us. It was a fun race, and an excellent opportunity to practice some teamwork!

The next weekend was another local crit in Sussex. Again, Team Kenda comprised a large portion of the 35 woman field. We raced aggressively taking many primes, but nothing stuck until around 3 to go when Kaitie attacked. She stayed away to win and Kirsten won the field sprint for 2ed. It was another fun race with a really awesome group of ladies. Yeah!!

The month ahead

2010-05-28T10:15:00.001-05:00

Collegiate Nationals

2010-05-23T20:11:00.005-05:00

I got a sweet new Mac and am going to try to update this thing more. And I think I mean that for real this time.

Collegiate nationals was fun despite being a cold and soggy weekend. When we woke up the morning of the road race, around 4 am, surprisingly it wasn't raining. What a terrible tease. By the time the boys began their race, the temperatures were creeping around 40. And of course it was pouring rain. Wisconsin really wasn't helping any stereotypes. Sarah, Allie, and I waited around until our 1pm start hoping the rain would let up, but as race time crept closer, it looked like we would be in for some epic conditions. Epic as in a slightly more positive spin on really, really miserable. And so begins my race report. First from the front of the race, then the middle, and then the sidelines. We had nearly 90 D1 women begin the race. It was awesome, as it always is, to see all the different schools and old or long distance friends once again. The race began on a long "neutral" descent with a restart at the bottom. From the bottom of the descent, the course slowly gained elevation until a pretty long climb through the feedzone, and on the last lap, up to the finish. On lap one I was about 20 seconds back from the leaders at the top of the climb. An Arizona girl and I bridged up to top 12ish at the start of the lap two climb, but for some reason I cramped up pretty good as soon as we got there. I couldn't pedal and went backwards really, really fast. I ended up pulling out of the race a bit dissapointed and suffering one huge casulaty- my rudy sunglasses :( I guess they fell out of my pocket somewhere on the descent. I'm a serial sunglass loser. It was the first time I wore them too!

The next day's crit around the capitol was warmer and drier. Brooke, Allie and I were excited for the race! It was totally different racing this course with a large field, but made for a fun race. For some reason, lapped riders weren't pulled and with one to go, a lapped rider caused a big crash. I was too far back and was one of many who got caught up behind it. Dang. I finished 18th.

The boys had some great results over the weekend. Kip finished 15th in that brutal road race again proving why there's a sweet facebook group for him. Alder finished 6th in the crit and Clayton, Filip, Kip and Alder finished 6th in their TTT.

While the LWC guys just missed the podium twice, they took home a sweet win in the trike race.

With Filip, Clayton, and Josh each racing a leg of the trike race relay, we pretty much had the dream team going.

And took home some sweet hardware!

Sunny King Criterium & Foothills RR

2010-04-19T20:09:00.005-05:00

I am a terrible blogger.
But anyways, almost two months of freeeezing collegiate races, it was finally time to head south to Alabama for Sunny King, a NRC crit and the foothills RR the day after. Excited.
Sunny King was fun. Felt good during the race and had okay positioning until a half lap to go. Put myself into a bad position, grabbed a handful of break to avoid crashing, and found myself off the back with one corner to go. Dang. Learning experience, I guess. Jackie Kurth had a great race and sprinted to 8th :D

We stayed around that night to watch LWC teammate Alder Martz race the p/1 mens, where he had a great race, and finally rolled out from the venue around 10.30. Phew!
Sunday brought a 5.30 wake up, gallons of coffee, and a "rolling hills" RR. Rolling hills? Yeah right. More like the mountains of Alabama.
At mile 20ish the winner of the crit the day before, Nicky Wangsgard, attacked over the top of one of the climbs. I went with and the two of us worked together off the front for around 30 miles. Ouch. The two of us built up an okay gap but the field organized and brought us back. We were caught with maybe 15 to go. Jackie attacked then and we let a break of 5 roll away. The field slowed way down, (which was nice. I was pooped) and we kinda rolled to the finish. Jackie took 5th, Amity took third in the field sprint for 8th and I finished 9th.

Pictures to come!

Cyclocross Nationals Bend, OR

2010-04-19T19:46:00.008-05:00

U23

The U23 race was ran simultaneously with the elite women. Due to being almost literally the last to register (long story) and having only 1 UCI point, I was the 87 girl called up to the line. Kind of a scary start, but a really fun race. I finished 29th overall and won the U23 race.

Collegiate

The collegiate race was ran almost immediately after the elite race. Ouch! Finished 2ed

....and the team finished third. We're a motley bunch.

Hopefully next year the U23 women will have a separate and non-conflicting race. The consecutive u23/collegiate races kept many girls from racing both resulting in smaller fields.
Overall, it was a good time. Awesome course, fun races, great venue. Can't wait to go back next year.

Collegiate MTB Nationals 2009- Lake Tahoe

2009-12-17T15:19:00.011-06:00

Awesome trip.

So much to say, now just pictures

Catch-Up

2009-12-17T15:15:00.002-06:00

Now that winter break has begun, I really have no excuse to not update this thing. The last few months have been crazy. Lots of school work and racing highlighted by a trip to Lake Tahoe for Collegiate Mtb nationals and Bend, OR for Cross nationals. So many great memories. I have a bunch of great pictures I'd like to share here within the next few days!

fitchburg...

2009-07-03T20:23:00.004-05:00

Drive to fitchburg

2009-07-01T18:26:00.011-05:00

On the road-5:00 am Tuesday

Arrival- 2:00 PM Wednesday.
Drove through a hurricane and saw a very large fly. Unrelated.
We have some awesome host hosing. It's so nice to get to live in a real house for a couple of days and use a real kitchen, opposed to a hotel... or tents... The people and communities that take us in are always so friendly too! Racing begins tomorrow...I hope it goes a little bit better than nature valley. My only goal is to not crash in the TT. I really hope that's accomplishable!

36 in 47

2009-06-02T20:25:00.007-05:00

Feeling much better, I decided to the WCA Sussex crit last sunday. Won the "QOM" and finished 5th, it was alot of fun. Up next are the WI state road championships on the 7th and then on the 10 the Nature Valley Grand Prix begins. I'm really excited for Nature Valley, it's gonna be a real tough race! If I do superweek at the end of July, it looks to be about 36 races in 47 days. Acutally a little less- not every superweek race has a womens field- but this is gonna be a big summer.

I finally got new bar tape. Horray!

Wisconsin/Kentucky/Iowa

2009-05-29T11:15:00.026-05:00

Sorry for the lack of updates, I had just managed to type and erase a whole post!

Anyways, summer has been good so far. Lots of traveling and bike racing already.
A few highlights:

Denzer RR

Denzer went very well for Team Kenda. I'm really lucky to be on a team filled with really wonderful and supportive ladies. I can't say enough nice things. Oh yeah, and they can all ride a bike like really, really fast. I had never heard of La Rue, WI before the race, but apparently there are mountains there. Who knew! We went 1,2,3in a break.

Driving to Kentucky at 2am

Driving in the very early morning is absolutely beautiful. The world is dark and still, but at the same time, so suspenseful. I hit chicago just as the whole world was waking up, following highways through dawn into summer.

My time in Kentucky was great, although my shifter broke ten minutes into my first ride there. Luckily we were able to replace it temporarily for the up coming weekend.
Left Kentucky Friday morning, slept in Wisconsin Frirday night, and left for Iowa Saturday morning, arriving just in time for our 2 PM race! Snake Alley is always one of my favorite races. Regardless of how the race goes, it's always alot of fun. Such a crazy atmosphere.

The first lap up was really hard. Really, really hard. I could barley keep moving forward, let alone turn the pedles. I looked down and relized I was in the big ring. D'oh. I dropped my chain (my fault, not Orions), got half on my bike, and got a big push to the top by some random guy while trying to grab onto my bars, clip in, and stay balanced.God I love this race. The field was all but gone, but the race was alot of fun regardless.

The next day we had arond 50 women starting. It was great. I finished at the way back of the front pack.Happy to have not gotten dropped, and feeling a bit sick. The weekend was so much fun regardless. My teammates are awesome.
Must've picked up some kind of virus in the stressful last few weeks of school/airport to Denver adventure. I didn't really race on Monday and slept tuesday/wednesday.
I'm a little bit sad about missing Tulsa this weekend, but I'll certainly be cheering on the girls from my computer. Even without Oklahoma in my plans, this summer is shaping up to be a busy one. The state RR is on the 7, Nature Valley Grand Prix is the 10-14, America's Dairyland is the 19-28, then out to Mass. for Fitchburg the 2-5, Superweek, Nationals in Orgeon?, Excited to race again soon, but for now, a little cold virus is making me feel like I was hit by a train. Urgh.
Going to trade in my Doritos for orange juice from now on!

Collegiate Road Nationals- Ft. Lewis CO

2009-05-14T08:01:00.004-05:00

.... and Madison and Milwaukee and Ohio. This may be a long one....
Milwaukee was our last normal conference road race of the year. It was a great course- pretty much rolling and Wisconsin scenic (lots of cows) and I hear it'll be used again during Tour of America's Dairyland. Which would be sweet. Anyways, I had forgotten how bad Wisconsin allergies can be and had to pull out after a few miles. The next day's crit was around the capital. It was a great race- maybe the fastest collegaite race this year. We had a break of four early in the race but it didn't stick and I ended up 4th in the field sprint. Next race was Regionals in Ohio. We stayed in cabins in the woods on top of a pretty big climb.Not at all how I'd picture Ohio! The weather was hot. Not like cook an egg on the sidewalk hot, but melt your barefeet into the asphalt hot. Hot, hot. And windy. And all uphill. Combined, this was undoubtedtly the hardest race I've ever done. After the first climb we had a group of five or sixish. I got dropped at mile 30thish on a climb. I love climbing the most, but that day it just didn't work. In the crit the next day we had a break of three from pretty early on after a prime. I ended up third.
The next few weeks were a blur of packing, finishing up the semester, taking finals, and getting ready for nationals. Somehow, everything got accomplished and freshmen year of college was done. It went fast. We woke up at 3am and flew from Nashville to Denver. Thursday afternoon we prerode part of the course. The road race was beautiful. There were some climbs, but nothing horribly steep or long, and much of the course followed alongside a lake. I'm moving there someday. Anyways, we had about 70 starters in the D1 women's road race. It was windy. I made my way towards the front on the first climb, shifted into my little ring, and my crank didn't turn. The chain fell off and got jammed in there. Went to the side, not very smooth like, and stuggled to pull it out. I probably looked like a monkey or something, cause the shimano guys looks hesitant to approach me. Got it on, rode to the next climb, and it happened again. I ended up riding the rest of the course with some girls, finishing around 50th (a good portion dropped out). The next day was the crit. I had a hard time moving up and got caught behind a crash a bit more than halway through. I was really bummed. So much emphasis was put on these two days and neither of them had panned out.
.....Then I got fined for having my numbers on wrong.
But then I found five dollars.

So, overall the past fews weeks of biking haven't gone too well. I had contemplated switching sports for a while- maybe something really cool that doesn't involve spandex or any sort of coordination- but I really love riding my bikes. This summer is shaping up to be a great one with lots of travel. Looking forward to getting out of this rut!

summer

2009-04-28T10:00:00.004-05:00

I followed that train of through through the City of Wind.
Past the greening plans, crowded quilts of air and color, and through the paint chipped towns of the anxious Midwest. Beyond creaky swings and weathered silos, the drive home gets quicker everytime.
It's summer now. I love summer. Summer is bicycles. It's spokes and cleats, heat and bells. It's gas station coffee in the already hot morning, and the burn of chemical sweeteners. Once bitter and artificial, now hopeful and nervous. It's for romanticizing battle and the swelling of humid days that leave salt like residue on our skin.
Summer is for night rides. For the hopeful moon and it's lonley pride, and how you can ride forever in its wake. It's for falling into rhythm wth tires, cranks, and your own curls of breath. Summer is nostalgic for all memories that you may or may not have. The treeline East of this, the city West of that, it flaots on through sun streaked mornings, resisting scater by the four fall winds.
Soft sun on heavier air, summer moves like posion ivy over our bodies. It washes over the waves of our spines, tattooing our skin, plunging through prisms and dividing our sight. It's the humid night porches, paint chipped and faded, and the late morning coffee. It's the difference in cool tiles and the red sun that burns through our eyes.

Summer is gold and green, melting and collisions, trebble clefs, minor notes, and major chords. It's when days are pages and time is a notebook and we scrambled with chalk to fill in the words before the pages flip beneath thumb and wind. The imperanence is there- in the dandilions that fell from our hair, the sinking sun, sooner each night, in the red soil that scatters like dust. But all of that is invisible compared to the sounds. East of this, West of that, the sofest sun on heavier air. Sumemr moves like posion ivy. It's the times that won't end- Years from now, I now I'll pretend I'm still there.

Winter happened yesterday, I suppose. Summer's comming quicky if it isn't here already.
It looks to be a good one.

notre dame/michigan/purdue/marian

2009-04-07T10:23:00.007-05:00

East of the tree line and west of the sun, I turned left today. Overcome with nostalgia and the smell of wet spring road, a new whole world unveiled itself.

West of the tree line and East of the sun, it's a shame you can't escape the circular.

The past three weekends of racing have gone pretty well for us as a team. Notre Dame brought good weather and varied luck. Sinead and I broke away and I won the downhill sprint kudos to lots of ice cream and cool ranch doritos. On Sunday, my bicycle, Mark, kept acting up. He only wanted to ride in the 53/28, which is usually pretty cool, but not when 1/2 the course is downhill. The men had a great race and Danny took the field sprint. He barrowed my wheels for the race and, no lie, that was probably the fastest my wheels have ever gone!
Michigan brought a sweet road race, 1/4 on dirt with bike dissolving potholes. Finished 6th which I was pretty happy with. The next day's
"crit" was on a 2 mile loop with a pretty steep hill. It was a good race, got pretty split up on the hill and no real sprint. After the crit we had a TT that was sorta uphill the whole loop. Took second to Sinead in both as well as the purdue RR.

Gonna try to put up some pictures later if I can separate my camera cord from my backpack debris.
Hoping to keep the rubber side down for at least another week.
:)

Karma

2009-03-25T07:38:00.004-05:00

A few days ago, I rode my bike past the skate park and saw two little boys arguing. The bully one stole the others skateboard, turned to run away, but tripped and fell down the grassy hill.
I laughed at him, karma gets you every time. By now, I was going pretty slow so I stood up on my bike to get moving. Then, somewhow, my chain magically dissolved off the cassette and I flipped over onto my face into the grass.
The bully boy laughed at me
What goes around comes around, karma gets you everytime

Nortre Dame was a great race. Report coming soon!

Depauw/Lousville/Kenosha

2009-03-19T11:01:00.009-05:00

I'm a procrastinator. Gonna recap the past few weeks without using real sentences.
Two weeks ago - Depauw road race/crit. Rolled in for a 10th and 5th. Felt goofy, but that's bike racing I suppose. Still fun races. Plus, it was neither hurricaning nor raining ice!

Monday after the race- Explored a barn on the side of a mountain. Both serene and decrepit. Jumped off a cliff at the point with the team. Water felt like knives, that kinda cold is what I'm sayin'! Camped there Monday night. 80 degrees during daylight, bonfire weather. Lots of fun.

Friday- night ride in lousville. Explored old cremetorium. Creepy.

Saturday- raced in Lousville. Cold, rainy. Got second to a Depauw girl, Rita. Fun race.
Drove home saturday night, raced "parkside" in Kenosha on Sunday. Didn't wake up in time for women's, raced mens 3 instead. Fun race, finished field.
Spring break- went mtn biking, got bike fixed, good stuff.
Leaving to race Notre Dame tomarrow
Gonna update this thing once a week from now on.
Huzzarh!

Rad Life

2009-02-20T08:20:00.010-06:00

Two weekends ago I went up to Wisco for my mom's wedding party

.
(I don't know why I'm sitting in the corner , but clearly I'm having the most fun.)

But it was this past weekend that really solidified my rad life.
Clayton, Nick, and I drove about two hours out of Columbia to Pine Mountain to ride for the weekend. The name did not disappoint. We went up... and up.. and up..and up.. doing two major climbs that took about 30 minutes each. It was so steep too! After about a mile I wanted to get off and walk my bike up, but I don't think I can walk that far! But despite my whining, it was undoubtedly the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. The kind of ride where you're sad you only have X miles left.
When we finally reached the summit, the guys decided to go down the back side and ride back up. I was pooped and decided to wait at the top.

(I didn't take these pictures-they're google-stolen of the area. Even they don't do justice)

I napped on a boulder while waiting for the guys and then explored chain rock for a bit.
. This rock, suspended off the side of the summit by a single chain, would crush the whole town of pine mountain in a cartoon-y ball if cut loose. Or so we hear
.
Nonetheless, it was beautiful and I'm going to spend the rest of my life in Pine Mountain, KY as a forest dweller on chain rock.

Quick recap

2009-02-09T18:50:00.009-06:00

Things have gotten real crazy the past couple of weeks. A quick recap:

Team camp in Florida was so much fun. The girls were all awesome and we got to put in some good miles in the sunshine.

Not to mention brush up on our witchcraft.

Back in Kentucky the weather hasn't been too bad at all. Well, five days ago we hit a high of 25, but the past few days have been up in the high 60s! It was a great time getting out with some friends and making tan lines.

And we rode through Jurrasic Park. No lie. I can't begin to tell you how beautiful the views were.

And the climbs. .. Silly me forgot to gas up Orion before heading out. Must've been why the ride got so hard on the uphills! Luckily we were able to stop and refuel.

That's it for now. Gotta go write a paper or seven.

Dear immune system,

2009-02-02T16:55:00.004-06:00

I hate you.

Kenda team camp in flordia was so much fun. I'll put up some pictures and such once I find my head.

Going to go buy and eat a clove of garlic now.

Orange Juice

2009-01-10T11:14:00.001-06:00

Does it taste better in Flordia?
Five days..

Wisconsin..

2009-01-06T10:49:00.001-06:00

is cold.

getting lucky in kentucky

2009-01-04T10:01:00.007-06:00

We don't have keys to the apartment, but things worked out.

Sarah and I got into Columbia around 5 am and have spent the past six days riding bikes and relishing in the warm weather. Alright, well it hasn't exactly been tropical, but I'll take 50 degrees over negatives any day!

We've been pretending it's warmer than it really is. Yesterday we went hiking and "swimming" at the point, which turned out to be more of a wimpy polar bear plunge than anything else. But still, it's been great to get away from the frozen north for a little bit.

Right now we're in the midst of a "summer" thunderstorm. It's maybe 60 degrees out but dark and humid. Makes for a good day of coffee, movies, and maybe a bike ride later. But sadly, we'll probably have to end our impulsive get away tomarrow evening.

Word is there's a new frame waiting for me in wisco... :D :D