Lulled into a false sense of Spring, we're getting kicked in the sack for days, good work in the last few weeks is pushed into the closet for now. NOAA brings me bad news.



This is what Sunday was like for most of the race. It was beautiful, now picture a white room. That's what we have. Cross is good any time of year. 

I wonder why we still need more paperclips, aren’t there enough? I mean they’re reusable. Are we wearing them out? I could search in Google how many are made but I think that would just frustrate me more. Paperclips aren’t like inner tubes, you can patch those a few times but then it’s over, and paperclips probably have a nearly unlimited half-life. It’s one more level of waste I’d like to reduce. Not that I’m beyond waste, I’m not. I like to reuse and recycle, almost to a fault. Re use your old stuff until it's shit, then recycle. The paperclip gets pulled apart and thrown away as trash. The resources wasted in just this one thing could solve a lot of problems. 

Inane ramblings.




The nuts and bolts and keys to the locks, 
one at a time, lined up in front of me. 
Pushed a bit on the first two weekends of racing, 
good things in the queue. Only better from here.


Summing it up

What I lack in creativity I make up for in resources. I stole this from Joel who stole it somewhere else.


March Harvest

The growing season is a few months old but the low hanging fruit already is full with juice. Listening carefully to the sounds of the lactic acid grabbing onto the fibers in my legs, knowing it only gets better and reaps better things in the spring. If you are already out there you know, real spring at 9000 feet, rare treat, good rewards and always warm, the furnace burns hot, a March Harvest is early if you do it wrong, if you manage it right, it all lines up like termites to the cabin.



Points on the map leap-frog and pull yourself to the next location, isn't that what a day is? You move from one point to another, plodding through the rougher spots to get to the smoother ones. Sometimes the rougher spots are better than smooth, other times I blackout until a rough point forces open my eyes, smiling, enjoying my time, quietly placing another pedal forward.



Phil, Paul and Bob do a great job, but a lot of times I watch the highlights or whole cross races streamed or bit-torrent-ed in Flemish, maybe it's Dutch, they sound the same to me. It fits almost as well in my head, I get the point, just not all the words.
This is a spring a little ways up Loveland Pass that I visited yesterday, twice. I wonder if they have one on the Galibier, I should go look.



It wasn't the perfect result, but in mid-March it was the perfect result, time out in the cold and snow, 3 degrees blowing side-ways feels warmer. 



I don't know how far it was from the house I grew up in to my elementary school but everytime I forgot my homework at school I was told to ride there and get it. I wonder if my parents knew they were giving me this compulsion; to ride when it might not be safe, on roads that might not be safe, in weather or light conditions that, you get it. Now I can't get more joy out of the rides, especially solo, in crap weather.



I find myself talking to the foxes a lot. Telling them not to worry about the guy going past them in black, stay off the busy road, hunt cats near the edge of the woods. That's bad, seeing roadkill, worse is being responsible for spooking him into traffic. So far not me. That's why I always talk to them, I guess. 



I stole this from Gwadzilla who found it somewhere else. I think it pretty much sums up a lot of my training. Know what I mean?



I've been riding, doing work and not feeling rushed or half-assed about it. Soon I know, but for now it feels good. Sort of PRO, getting it done, slight order, clearly muddy. It all evens out.



Finally home for a few days, no need to leave my little house, 3 days in Denver are good for the legs, bad for the head. Cold and fenders are better than traffic. Great dirt, clear and clean, rolling trails in March? Can't be beat, for the fun or the work. Little prices are paid now equaling better returns.


Pot Shots

No more pot shots at fitness, time to pull it together and follow a line to the line. A little bit of snow to keep the bike from being clean. More slush up high but 3 hours in the wind will cure that. 



The acid in the legs or whatever waste you get from the work is lingering, making me feel more out of shape than in shape. I put the sharp end first, now it's the body's turn to make it into speed.



The wind and the dirt with a clear machine and fresh pedals, the trail let me through, I only had to get there.


Road side

I didn't understand why there would be a pile of fastfood wrappers and cups on the side of the road. I guess at 2 in the morning that's what you do, throw your shit out the window. I was asleep while the guy decided he couldn't leave his midnight snack trash in the car. It didn't really make sense, I think he probably felt guilty for eating so much and needed to destroy the evidence. No need to feel guilty, it's like eating a whole pie and blaming it on the dog, just deal with it. Eat, be happy, just don't be stupid and leave your shit on the road. Use a fucking trash can.