WTF???

Good day you jerk ass sonsofbitches. Well, sort of good day. It seemed like a good day, 65 degrees, 1 mile an hour wind, nice road lunch ride, double IPA waiting at the shop for dessert. About half way through my beer and a discussion with a customer about the endless benefits of tubeless, I get a distressed phone call from Mrs. Dr. She had been riding her bike to meet with the gentlemen who puts on the whiskey 50 about helping with the race, and was the victim of a hit and run. She was right around the corner from our house rolling up to the stop light in the left turn lane when a car came screaming around the corner, cut into her lane, hit her head on, and then like a real piece of shit sped away up the hill. One of the witnesses to the crash tried to follow, but ultimately lost him and couldn't get the plate number. Another guy who saw it stayed and gave a statement to the police, and drove Mrs. Doctor and her bike back to our house. The two dudes that helped also gave me and the police a good description of the car and where he had chased it to before it got away, which happened to be a pretty dead end sub division, meaning the car was probably still in there. We got Mrs Dr home, she suffered only some road rash and some bruises, and then went to comb the sub division for the car. After about an hour and a half of poking around, I think I found it. I almost knocked on the door of the house it was in front of, but decided that would probably turn out badly in the long run (translated: me facing assault charges) and took the plate number and address and called it in. Hopefully we found this piece of shit. Who hits someone and leaves them lying in the street? We'll find out more tomorrow once the police check this car out.
    On a lighter note, per Crotcheese's request, a 24 hours in the old Pooblow race report. being the dedicated procrastinator, registration filled up before I could really solidify any plans of singing up for the race, sending me to the message board to see if any other unfortunate souls needed teammates for teams that were already signed up. Found a four man team, sweet, 4 maybe 5 laps tops each. I can do that. We got a little snow, which kept me from riding as much as I wanted to get ready for the race, but I was pretty confident that I could do ok on the four man team. Then, four days before the race, I was notified that the rest of that team had backed out. Back to the message board for the race, all I could find was a spot on a Duo team. Oh shit.
    So me and two guys from my shop who were also doing a duo team left on Thursday morning on the four hour trip to the race, set up camp right by the start line, and pre rode the course. Piece of cake. Not too much climbing, pretty flowy, way too many cactus lining the trail (more on that later) Good rigid single speed riding. I knew the duo was going to be hard (probably 8 laps instead of 5) but I was pretty sure I could survive it. Rode the course again on Friday and only reinforced that I was going to make it. Woke up Saturday for the start of the race, unzipped my tent, and almost got blown away. 35 mile an hour winds had worked their way from northern AZ down to Tucson and brought with them high chances for precipitation, and much colder temperatures. And DUST. Holy fucking shit the DUST. Only now have I gotten all the sand out of my lungs. My teammate, a 21 year old dude from Oregon, wanted to do the first lap which was just fine with me. He put in a 1:19 on a geared bike, I did the same for my first lap. On our next laps we each had 1:24:02 exactly. Then shit got interesting. after my teammates third lap, it was now dark, 35 mile wind, sideways freezing rain, and my turn. I put my head down and just kept moving, putting in a decent enough 1:32. When I got back I realized I was out of dry clothes so I stood by the fire and tried to dry out while my teammate did 2 laps. (we were going to do this once each to give the other a longer break) It had stopped raining at the very end of my previous lap, and by the time I went out again, the trail that had been dusty and loose, and then gone to puddles everywhere, was now pretty hard packed and fast, but I was pretty cold and wet. The temps were in the low 30's and the wind was still blowing hard and it was my turn to crush out two laps. toward the end of my first one I started not feeling too terribly good, by the end of the second one I think was headed toward hypothermia. I went to stretch and try and warm up in my tent. When my teammate came back, I got up to go out and both of my legs just seized with cramps. I knew I was done. I had only made it till 6 oclock in the morning, the race ended at noon. I had done 5 laps and about  80 miles. I laid in the tent trying to stretch the cramps out and get some motivation to ride, but that cramps stayed and the motivation never came. I drank IPA's while my teammate did 3 or 4 more laps for ten total, which put us in 15th out of 81 duo teams. I had found a ringer on the internet. He didn't even know how he rode so much, his longest training ride to date had been 4 hours. He said he had a heart rate monitor and just stayed in whatever gear kept his numbers in check. 160 miles is a pretty healthy road ride let alone mountain bike. Cheers to that kid, and may he try solo next time. I will be going with a four man team so I can drink beer and relax a bit more. February is too early to be too serious.  The two guys from my shop Crushed it, putting down consistent 1:25 ish laps for 16 laps, a fair 8 each, and a tenth place finish. Nice work fuckers. On rigid single speeds no less.
     While I didn't accomplish too terribly much during the race, I had a good 5 day weekend, and met some cool people, and had a pretty good time, which is all I really had set out to do anyway. The weather made the party atmosphere a little more subdued than it apparently has been in the past, but we made the best of it. This would be an interesting candidate for a national Seagal meeting, but a lot travel for everyone but me.
  In the meantime, watch out for assholes when you're on the road, sage words of wisdom.
Doctor
  

Feild Report: Zambia

Well fuck me running. It has been a long time since I posted on this turd of a blog (which was hijacked in my absence) Shortly after my last post I began an exceptionally long journey, sort of a jenkem vision quest if you will. I travelled to Colorado for Stove's wedding, and from there continued travelling the jenkem highlands in search of answers, and new tube shapes. Praise Energor. I finshed my journey at 24 hours of old pueblo in Tucson and am now home coughing up sand. (seriously) and Jenkem. (seriously)
As March rolls around the days are getting longer and anticipation is high, for many great things are only days away. As you may remember that jerk ass jerk Nico Toscani came here last year to wreak havoc on the Sedona Big Friggin Loop (I'd put a link, but seriously it is just a couple of posts down, just scroll down) Many things hampered our planned Team Seagal domination. I was reduced to hiking a couple of weeks before the race, and Toscani got a little turned around and blocked by a river. This year we are going back, with reinforcements in the form of a healthy collar bone for me, a charged GPS battery for Toscani, and Stove. That's right. Stove. A flock of Seagals. With a Chinaman as our guide, we will form a pabst powered man train hell bent for gloryland. (insert criss angel joke here) I also hope to show these jerks some prime Prescott singletrack, and maybe a little black canyon trail. Their trip also coincides with the weekend that Mrs Dr and I are moving to a cabin in the woods (seriously) So it should be an interesting month, followed by camping in Utah and the Whiskey 50 in april. Holy Shit. BTW should I be worried if I had a 3 pounder this morning?
More to come us events unfold. Until then, fuck you