Ok, a slightly longer post to bring things up to date.

Instead of recapping a largely non-bike-related vacation on here, I’ll simply offer up a couple bike relevant things I noticed over in Spain.  First of all, Madrid appeared to be an extremely non-bike-friendly European city (at least on the surface anyway).  I’ve often assumed that all European cities were by default more bike-friendly than comparable U.S. cities, but Madrid was surprisingly pedestrian/auto-centric.  It seemed like there were fast moving roads for cars, and then lots and lots of crowded pedestrian zones, but nothing in-between that lead me to believe that Madrid would be a good city to get around via bike.  This is also evident in the extremely small number of cyclists observed.  I’m not really exaggerating when I say that I probably could have counted the number of cyclists I saw on just a couple hands.  Keep in mind, this is coming from somebody who scrutinizes every rider he glances at - so I’m not exaggerating when I saw that there were hardly any cyclists to be seen.  Granted, it was February, but it was nonetheless 50-60 degrees almost every day we were there…

Barcelona on the other hand, seemed to be a bit more bike-oriented.  They had the same bike-rental setup that DC instituted last year (only they actually use theirs).

Here’s a shot of one of their racks.  They look almost exactly like those here in DC.

As most folks know, the downside to any vacation is the return to normalcy (i.e. not being able to guzzle wine on a daily basis).  That being said, this past week was a good transition from vacation time back to the real world - made possible with the help of multiple booze fueled group rides.  Hooray!

Take for example the first ride back (Ride #74), which was my second outing on the Walt and my 3rd mtb ride in as many months.  Ironically it was a night ride on the very same trails that my last Surly ride took place on - out in Great Falls near the Maguire house (also the site of multiple post-ride Dogfish Head pints).   I bet we barely rode an hour before downing three times as many alcohol calories than we burned on the ride - nice.

Then there was ride 76 (ride 75 was a boring road ride where I struggled with the wind on Friday night) which involved a huge group of us meeting out at Gambril on Saturday morning.  The ride would be my first real test of the new Walt Works build.  The first couple rides were on really easy terrain with few technical challenges, but Saturday was a wake up call.  The bike was simply awesome.  I didn’t feel anywhere close to as beat up as I did with the Surly.  The ride quality was far tighter, and simply more compliant than the Karate Monkey could ever dream of being.  I wish I could say that I was tearing it up out there on the new rig hammering up the hills, but in reality my lungs were burning pretty bad 90% of the way.  Despite the off-setting pleasure of riding a new bike, my body took about 50 minutes to warm up and feel reasonably fit.  Being that we only rode for a little more than an hour, it was far too late to really enjoy it 100%.  It was however, a great jolt back into the game.  I finished the ride knowing that I’d be back out there on a daily basis riding hard again….its just too fun not to.  It was exactly what I needed to stoke the fire.

All that fire stoking necessitated some refreshment….and lacking a home bar serving up fresh DFH, our comrade Johnny B was kind enough to have some bottles of 90 minute on hand for some parking lot refueling.  Here’s a shot of CJ and Jimmy (Jimmy is the one with the most pimped-out 29er singlespeed you’ll ever see (custom Ti Blacksheep w/ I9 wheels, vintage Cook cranks, etc.)….mounted on the back of his TT no less).  You obviously can’t tell in the pic, but Jimmy was also pimped out with the Sidi Toaster insoles for our ride.  Hot Damn!

So a lot of random stuff going on since my return from Spain earlier this week (mostly work obligations) …..but I’m a little bit drunk and a little too lazy to write about anything bike-related right this moment….

soooooooo

a couple observations from the week:

• a bloody mary is a perfectly acceptable recovery drink
• so is anything from Dogfish Head brewery….mmmm (twice now in one week, has DFH been my recovery drink)
• there is NO substitute for full-fat mayo when making a tuna fish sandwich
• speaking of full-fat mayo…home made fries on a Saturday afternoon go pretty damn well with mayo…..mmmmmm

Now you can guess how my week has unfolded.

Ok, so I promise to post up some pictures and some “real” content just as soon as I am done binging on fries.  I have a couple of mtb rides and a road ride to blab about….

stay tuned.

Ok, a lot to catch up on…

first, a note on the title change.  I got an email from my friend Ian in response to the fat bus driver post and my cog analogy where he jokingly referred to me as the MVCIS.  I thought it sounded funny in a satirically self-deprecating sorta way, so I thought it’d be a good “post-300 to 30″ blog title to try on for size.

So onto the recap of the roller coaster week that has me ultra bummed out and cracking a beer(s) right now:

Last Wednesday was recovery from the Tuesday night’s 3 hour ride, and otherwise pretty uneventful.  I did the same old one hour spin into DC around Hains point and saw what was probably the gazillionth fox so far this year.  Honestly they are more populous than squirrels down on Hains Point.  I don’t know if the scent of my sometimes-a-little funky chamois is becoming familiar to them or what….but they seem to be getting bolder and stopping only a few meters away from me as I slow down and creep by them.  I’m still not entirely accustomed to regularly coming within spitting distance of these supposedly “wild” foxes on these night rides and so it weirds me out a bit.

Thursday was cold as hell outside and turned out to be a perfect gym workout day.  I’ve been trying to do more hip flexor and quad work to stabilize my knees a bit (and hopefully mitigate my IT band issues…so the gym work is a good thing right now)

Friday was a do-nothing-keep-my-feet-up-and-catch-up-on-my-drinking day.  I didn’t plan on it being a “cheat day” since I anticipated some dietary loosening during the NYC trip later in the weekend, but I ended up pouring myself a few fingers of scotch and one thing led to another…  I’m not sure if God was watching down on me and getting ready to punish me for my utter lack of discipline or not….but the rest of the weekend (from a training standpoint) was all downhill - despite being an awesome time.

Saturday was bad.  The forecast looked to be pretty brutal, and I knew I needed to log a good solid ride.  I suited up in my 25 degree riding outfit when I probably shoulda prepared for 15, caused thats about what it turned out to be.  I started off feeling ok, but not nearly as refreshed as I expected to feel.  I went out of my way to seek out some hills to avoid the wind and stay a bit warmer.  After snaking through Alexandria neighborhoods down south of Mt Vernon, I was about 20 or so miles from home when I realized that my feet were starting to get colder at an increasingly scary pace.  With the daylight fading, and my feet already completely numb, that’s when I decided to start heading home (dumb, I know).  I started back at about the same pace as I had gone out with…but my feet became so wood-like, I started to get concerned and jacked up the intensity a bit.  I started running through mental scenarios where I’d end up getting home to purple feet and tissue damage…and I actually kinda scared myself - I had really underestimated the cold.  I rode as hard as I could on the way back and was well into the 20s the entire way despite the variable winds and dropping temps.  This would have been all fine and dandy, getting in some unplanned high intensity training…but then my IT band started acting up.  It was totally demoralizing to feel the now very familiar pain in my left knee, but still not quite distracting enough to keep my mind from thinking about my poor feet.

By the time I rolled into my apartment building….I could barely walk.  I literally felt like a pirate with 2 peg legs.  I almost fell down inside the elevator, and then hobbled down the hall like an absolute gimp… I did something even more foolish once I got inside my apartment… In a hurry to warm up my feet….I tore off my shoes and immersed my scary ghost-white feet in hot water.  It felt kinda good at first…..and then, the man-tears were shed.  I was literally crippled with pain there on the side of the tub, still in my jacket, tights and helmet….my feet the source of unbelievable pain.  It was silly bad.  It felt like my toenails were being ripped out with pliers.  I honestly couldn’t believe how bad it was.  I’ve had super cold feet before and just allowed them to gradually warm on their own, or with the aid of a warm car vent or simple ambient room warmth.  The hot water thing….well, it goes in the never again category, thats for sure.  Obviously I felt like ass after this episode and decided to pound some wine at that night’s dinner party (my dietary restrictions were also suspended).   Fun was had.

No rest for the weary however.  After staying out til 2ish on Saturday, Oksana and I got going early on Sunday and drove up to NYC to spend the remainder of our weekend.  Not wanting to miss out on the chance to cruise around the city with my friend Norman (953 SSR guy), I threw my Lemond on the car and off we went.  By 2pm Norman and I were on the bikes cruising through Brooklyn.  As an aside, Norman’s bike, the “November bike” that I posted pics of a couple months ago….damn does it look better in person.  I’m 100% sold on the 953 concept now.

I’m also sold on NYC riding.  Its just a totally different world up there compared to DC (duh right?) with so much to take in.  We even found some pretty sweet kayaking to be had.

Compared to DC, the bike lanes are actually pretty abundant, if not disrespected.  We cruised over the Brooklyn Bridge, which was awesome.  If I wasn’t so blown away by the views of the city as we crested the bridge I probably woulda been a little more annoyed by the clueless tourists meandering in and out of the bike lanes…but in the end it was a treat.  Here we are just starting out on the Brooklyn side of the bridge, Norman on his pimp-ass bike:

I actually picked the most uninspiring spot on the bridge to take this shot - the city is obscured by the arc of the bridge at this low point - so here is some random dude on the bridge (seriously, no idea who he is), but you can see what the view looks like riding over the top.

Anyway, we cruised along the west side highway and up into central park.  The park is actually a pretty sweet little training loop.  I don’t recall exactly, but I think Norman said it was 6 miles - ideal to do some rolling training laps on.

The weather was less than ideal: a wet 30-34 degrees at the start and somewhere less than that at the end of the ride with some spitting snow and sleet to finish it off.  I think the excitement of riding someplace different made me care a lot less than I ordinarily would and the ride just kinda zipped right by.  Between the daylight fading, Norman’s feet freezing (bootyless in 30 degree wet weather I might add) and my knee getting worse by the mile, 30 miles turned out to be the perfect cutoff point before our Sunday night food & beer binge.  Norman and I started out with a quick post ride drink at one of his local favorites, “Beer Table,” before meeting up with Oksana for some recovery food and a night full of more deliciously hearty craft brews:

Its pretty safe to say that CO Nick has a leg up at this point in the 150lb contest.  The picture above kinda gives one a sense of what my state of mind was on Sunday night.  With the 70 wet and cold miles in the previous 48 hours, and a throbbing knee to show for it…..I started my downhill slide.  The 48 hours since Sunday night have included multiple decadent desserts, bagels w/ cream cheese, daily beers, an entire Pizza Hut pizza (size L), multiple chocolate bars (I think a bag of Skittles made its way in there somewhere), a cuban hot pressed sandwich and plate of fries, and other stuff I don’t remember.  Uhhh yeah, I gained back a couple pounds.  The coup de grâce?  Well, the fact that I can’t log any miles without pain right now is a HUGE demoralizer.  I’m back to the same Spring 2007 situation I found myself in when logging a few too many miles on the singlespeed.  I’d laugh off the disgusting food with some epic training rides this next week if it weren’t for the pain.  Now its back to a mixture of therapy and 100rpm low gear-short duration rides on the flats - pretty much the second fastest way to becoming much slower, only bested by pure couch time.

I hope alcohol has some anti-inflammatory properties.

So I’ve fallen a bit behind in both my riding and my blogging.

With the demoralizing knee issue flaring up last weekend and a busier week at work than usual (without a client that is), I just didn’t feel that inspired to do any “interesting” riding this week.

Thursday’s ride pretty much epitomized this mindset.  I came home from work, sat around eating garbage (which I’ve been doing a lot of lately), and generally behaved like a pos until about 9:30pm when I suited up and started roaming around the Mt. Vernon bike path.  I met up with CJ since he’d been clamoring to try out his new Niterider Minewt.  Incidentally, the Minewt is impressively bright for its price.

Anyway, we literally rode around for 6-8 miles before hunkering down at Rustico where we put back a couple of pints.  They actually have a pretty impressive beer list, but we just had some random Stone and Rogue stuff that was on tap.

The fun ended when Oksana called to say she was on her way home…which meant that I should also be on my way home.

12 miles on Thursday.  6 miles per beer.  Awesome.

So today’s ride was supposed to be pretty epic.  The plan was to head out to one of the most remote areas within reasonable driving distance from DC (Wolf Gap VA/WV).  This particular section of national forest is less than 2 hours away from Arlington, with both ultra rugged single and doubletrack, tons of vertical (by east coast standards) and remote, in the sense that you can log a 5 hour ride and not encounter one other person out on the trail on a beautiful Saturday afternoon.  Sound good?  It was.

Some great ways to start an “epic” ride include; forget the trail map - check, ride solo - check, and then forget to top off your camelbak - check.  Did I mention the late start?

Well, the late start did not prevent me from taking the extra time to drive out the extra 45 minutes to setup my “beer cache”.

One great feature of the route chosen today, is that the loop circumnavigates a valley (riding from ridge to ridge) which has a road and several fast running trout streams right through the middle of it.  At one end of the valley is the trailhead I used today, and the other end of the valley is an ideal spot where the road, the trail, and a trout stream all intersect, hence the beer-cache.

Anyway, I found myself really suffering on the 1400′ fireroad climb that starts the ride.  I just kept imaging how much more fun I’d be having once on the singletrack.  One positive thing about the climbing was that I was actually able to appreciate the rigid fork, which I had just put back on the Karate Monkey after busting my Reba last weekend.

After I topped out on the climb I realized that I probably didn’t have the legs (or the water) for exploring any new trails without a map, so I went with a familiar “Long Mountain” trail, one of several different ways I could have reached my cache.  The trail is a real beauty though, and has a little bit of everything.  The best part is the picturesque singletrack with just the right mix of rocks and roots.

It didn’t take me long to remember how much sketchier the ride qualities of a rigid fork can be when riding the rocks.  I got lucky and went down really really hard when I lost the front end in a corner…and when I say I got lucky, I got really lucky in that I buried my elbow and then shoulder in the only mossy/dirt patch in a 30ft section of rocky slabs and baby heads.  I went from upright, just riding along, to on the ground wondering what happened in all of about .5 seconds.  Had I lost it slightly earlier, or later, I would have had a problem.  The solo factor out in a place like this where nobody else really seems to ride that often can be scary like that.  For the record, in the 4+ hours I was out riding today, I saw exactly one other hiker, and she was at a different trail head altogether.

Anyway, throughout this ride, you criss cross back and forth into WV from VA, and in the shot below, you can see the WV ridge in the background.  Interesting to note how meaningless “borders” are out in the woods.

After stopping at several points to mess around with the camera and the self portrait business, then lolly gagging at a pretty atypically slow pace, I started to get pretty lethargic.  It turns out that giving into junk food impulses pre-ride (M&M’s, Snickers and Starbucks in the absence of my hammerhead nutrition police friends) was not what the doctor ordered.  For whatever reason, my bonked state of being did not deter me from enjoying my beer cache.  It also helped make up for the lack of water in my camelbak (kind of ;-0)

Since it was getting late, and I had already opened my second beer, I ended up riding the first few miles down the road while finishing her off.  I had to laugh at the thought of what the random 2-3 people who passed by in cars might have been thinking at the sight of me…then again, I was in WV.  The following 6 miles of road, and 1200 ft of climbing on that road back to the car was just painful.    The saving grace however, is the 1000ft of super twisty asphalt in less than .75 mile back down to the car once crossing over the last ridge.  No computer on the mtb, but I’d say 50mph on the straights is pretty easily done…which makes the tight, slightly banked corners a riot.

Tomorrow’s ride will not be anywhere as cool…