The little places

The little places where fears still reside on a ride have now been overtaken by a heavy dose of humility, sense of humor and irreverence in the fact that I'm still a jackass on two-wheels, trying to be serious about getting better at riding a bike.....ohh, the folly!  I suppose I should either start wearing a clown suit, or nut-up and shut-up and get on a training regime.....but that would take effort....so i'll stick with the hybrid plan....a comprehensive plan.  A plan which incorporates both contingencies.....a maad plan....

Rolling into the AES Kentucky Camp base of operations this weekend, I found myself alone on a Friday night.  Alone in my sickness of bronchitis, sinusitis and lamenisitus.  I've been off the bike for 2 whole weeks up until last Monday because I was moving my domicile into a new zip code.  I suppose this could be counted as a bit of cross training, but my sensible self told me otherwise.....but, hey....look....a beautiful sunset....

After a very cold night, running a fever and having that fever break sometime in the night in a puddle of sweat inside my sleeping bag, I woke to finalize my ride.  My cracking voice which I had lost the previous day told folks around me that I was in for the full meal deal.....their cross-eyed looks told me perhaps it was a bad idea....and the vibe stuck in my craw....

Returning to the rathole I'd dug myself the previous evening, I welcomed the first morning rays of sun glistening off my new and as of yet, untested XTR middle ring.  In addition to the sickness which left my lungs with some fluid in them, I was committing a cardinal sin by doing work on a bike before a race and not test riding it; I was pushing my luck.....perhaps I should have hydrated more the previous night....

Still vacillating as to where I would sign...short course or long....long course or short....my ego threw the gauntlet down on my own behalf and nutted up....hell, I've been through worse.....except for a DNF.....

Clawing up the 1200 vertical feet out of camp....fears came alive inside my mind.  My legs were tingling from the lack of oxygen which my buttered lungs were responsible for....I felt as if I was at 12000ft, and yet I was more than half of that in elevation.....DNF, DNF, DNF...the letters swirled around in my head....thoughts of taking a detour and a scenic route to work on photography played in my brain...I have a good excuse I reasoned to myself......

Taking a breather, contemplating my future fate; I thought of my time the previous year.  If I could match it or beat it by a bit...then I would have a good day.....this started the turn for me.....the views helped as well....

Somewhere between this last shot and the next shot.....I had a "come to buddha" conversation with myself which went something like this:  "Why are you bitching about your legs, your lungs and your insecurity about finishing....all you have to do is ride......you've been through worse, and fared better.....just pedal and stop thinking".  At which point, 90 or so minutes went by where I lost track of time....and just rode.  Not thinking about mileage, pain or time...I just stamped out miles.  And then I caught up to Jim and Nancy....which took me by surprise.  I had hoped to keep pace with them early in the race since they tend to drive strong all day...and so we rode together....and pounded food in combat food stops lasting no more than a minute where the only conversation piece centered around questions as to why I would haul the DSLR around on a race.....

....and yet no one questions it when I capture the stoke of another climb finished......

.....or the highland hills glowing gold in late autumn.  The soothing sound of grass blowing in the wind off of Mt. Wrightson cut into me all day...but I kept pedaling.

The beauty of narrow summer grass trench-work bordering the AZ Trail is positively exciting to a singletrack rider....the narrow tread gives one focus.....

......focus on threading the needle on a screaming descent and making mileage while the going is easy.....

Shots taken through this vertical expression of the suns energy, holding fast long after it's growth cycle, capture this focus.....

.....as well as the joy captured in carving some sweet singletrack....

But as all things must come to an end...so did my ride with Jim and Nancy who took to the final climb of the day on their Single Speeds and disappeared once again.  Joining up with another group...I captured some intensity and wonderment on one of the final climbs.......

Rolling into camp, I was surprised to find I beat my time from last year by 32 minutes.  Granted, I broke myself bad last year....but I wondered....what would have happened this year if I had been healthy?  I guess next year will decide that one......

Settling into the recovery period of my training, I spied a man who appreciates the oldie but goodie mindset.....

One of the two jerkoffs responsible for this mess celebrating and recovering.......

Recovery comes in all shapes, colors and IBU's.....another Kentucky Camp in the bag...