The course is a decent cyclocross course. Admittedly, it is not as technical as many of the twisty and tight courses that utilize off camber features to strike fear in the hearts of roadies, but it is still a technically minded course. In fact, it is safe to say that compared to the entirety of the Chicago Cross Cup, it is a course that stands up to the series and even is better in racecourse features than a few of the races in the series. The course when previewed via YouTube is as deceptive as the course actually is when you race on it – while seemingly mundane at first glances, the notion is quickly stripped at the first jarring thuds your wheels take when hitting the bumpy grassy knolls robbing you of speed and reminding you to keep your wits about you.

The course is most definitely a European style cyclocross course, make no bones about it, it is indeed a reflection of St. Wendel’s course. The technical adversity on the Badger Prairie course does not lay in the individual technical sections, of which there are few, but as the sum of the total of the features put together. It was evident after a few laps at full on race pace, the riders that excelled were the ones who could capitalize on key points of the racecourse that were deceivingly simplistic but critical for maintaining a competitive position. The course is wide and has many wide enough berths both on the straightaways and on the climbs to easily get past traffic, if you can’t pass someone on this course, either you are truly on one of the few tight turns of the course, or you simply don’t have the fitness to make the pass count. It’s that easy to pass someone. The turns may be uninspiring in many parts of the course, especially in the transition turns from gravel to pavement or gravel to grassy climbs. The thought of uninspiring may turn into frightful as the winter introduces gnarlier elements to the already gravel strewn transitions. The climbs are substantial and weren’t very evident in the video, and at race pace, will be a deciding factor on whose fitness can sustain the punchiness of the elevation changes.

Rundown
Start is a typical paved start on a wide road with a 100M lead out to a soft right turn going into the course full speed from pavement to grassy transition with immediate bumps, possible hooked turns here depending on final course selection but the course changed from Saturday to Sunday by softening those chicane turns to minimize crashing at the very start. The grass section is deceptively bumpy and bucked every rider into finding the smooth line for another 200M to a 90 degree right hand turn for another 100M to a quick twisty right hander onto another straightaway leading to a right hander into the first introduction of tight turns through very rough terrain. It navigates leftbound pass the pit for the first time, and straight ahead 50M to your introduction of the first climb.

A 90 degree left embarks everyone on a 200m false flat (3-5%) to an 80 degree right onto a 10-12% 25M climb that really starts the grind onto yet another false flat for (3-5%) for another 100M. A right hand turn to a quick left downhill on a gravel strewn descent excellent for recovery that takes you to a fast flowy right hand turn, in all about 400M of fast descent before a turn into the first actual dirt of the course in the form of an uphill soft dirt introduction to a rail tie step feature of approximately 15 steps widely spaced apart. This section immediately ends at the top of the hill with a quick remount on a bumpy section that leads to a soft s curve transition to a 50M fast descent onto a paved road transition that immediately points upward at 5-7% for another 150M then slopes down slightly after a soft left curve onto a dirt transition once again that points upward another 5% for 25M before a hard 90 degree left onto one of the most gratifying long descents as your reward.

The descent is incredibly fast and met with many bumps and dips that with one misstep, you may find yourself in the thickets along side the 10 foot wide section. The descent lasts almost 400M onto a sharp right 5-8% climb into a double barrier with a sharp left turn into one the courses only tight sections that leads back past the pit area, and into twists and turns going left and towards a short sandpit, which no matter how it’s used, should not be much of a challenge given its quick 10M distance. Beyond the sandpit, the back section riding continues with a 100M straightaway that parallels the paved road from where the start was. The straightaway takes a sharp 90 degree turn into some very bumpy sections that follows alongside a pond that hopefully no one takes a dive in.

The course follows the pond shortly before going into the next climbing section which is about 5% for the next 100M and then rises a bit to 10% for 5M, and then continues for another 50M before arriving at a 15% pitch for 8-10M. After that immediate pitch change, you hook right for another reprieve on a downhill that cross a paved road section and maintains the bumpiness, into a very fast right hander that if miscalculated will lead you into the thickets again. The speed is very important to maintain as the right hand turn glides upward slightly into a left hand turn onto pavement, the turn here is critical for the entry into the grassy bumpy section again to keep at high speed to navigate the final twisty sections that will inevitably slow everyone down to their rough state and tight turning, this then leads to the lap leadout on pavement back to the start finish. In all, the maximum length of a CX course is raced at just over 2 miles.

Technicality
The degree of technical difficulty for this course is low – however – the true technical nature of this course has to be valued at the sum total of all it’s components. It’s not unlike an MTB course where the climbs are meant to separate people, and the downhills are not just the recovery but the ability to carry speed through the next section while maintaining the best line to keep that speed as every bump and hole scrubs speed. Taking the turns at the highest speed possible is going to be critical for conquering the laps on this course. There is little room for actual rest as the name of this cross game is getting up to speed and maintaining that speed as much as possible to not let the weight of the grinding climbs get you too far down. It was evident in how strung out the field was in every category at the damage the punchy climbs had, in addition, to the incredibly bumpy descents and straightaways. Power riders do not necessarily excel on this course, but neither did the incredibly technical riders as there was little to interact with and gain momentum on in technical sections – this blended the saavy of reading the course, attacking on the climbs, and being fearless on the descents.

Weather
Day 1 was 18 degrees and dry, with slight wind and no sun. It was a cold reminder of what we’re in for Nationals. Day 2 was a sunny reprieve at 40 degrees and perhaps the thank you we deserved for being out at the course both days. Two hours of full on racing on the course, and it’s evident that if this is the best that it will ride in good conditions, than come winter, with snow and ice, the course will take on another technical capability that can only be imagined as difficult climbing situations, slower and more cautious descents, and even scarier gravel to paved road transitions. The snow, if it comes, will hopefully smooth out the bumpiness of the chopped grass course which would be very welcome, but will pose challenges such as the steeper pitched climbs that were easier to hammer out of the saddle, but will prove meddlesome with ice and snow under our rear tires, especially the sharp pitched ones. The cornering, though in small quantities now, may still prove troublesome depending on conditions as they are in tighter areas with little room to pass causing traffic if a rider goes down. The rail stair run up – will be amazingly frightful if it freezes over. These are all good things to look forward to for a true CX course in the midwest.

Recommendations
Cross NEEDS to remain spectator friendly. If not for our friends and loved ones coming out to cheer for us and of course heckle us, we racers, do experience moments of mental weakness when we are exposed to the elements on our own in long lonely and desolate parts of a course. This is rare for over 90% of all the cross courses in many of the series across the midwest. A national caliber course should have mandatory access for spectators to get to various parts of the course without much hindrance. Especially in the conditions of January, the racers need spectator support and providing that access will be key to fully qualifying the event as spectator friendly.

The pit area should be reviewed for better placement for ease of access into and out of the pit in two viable directions that allow for an easy transition for racers to switch bikes or wheels. The current pit experienced definitely made for some cramped quarters that made for some sketchy transitions (don’t put the pit into a transition on a turn!).

The transitions should be reviewed closely in the coming weeks as the weather turns to snow and ice, gravel descents onto grass won’t be a major cause for concern, but the gravel descents onto pavement are a definite cause for concern. Icy pavements are no place for downhill transitions from an off-road course in the winter, and in the European races, they do pour sand over this transitions to ease it up. This should highly be considered to avoid any unnecessary carnage at critical areas.

Warming tents – this can’t be stressed enough – keep the spectators happy, not just the racers. Leaving folks from the ‘warmer’ states happy can go a long way in leaving a great impression on our hospitality.

Final Thought
The course is worthy. Granted, I, have only read and heard from friends experiences at National CX races in the past decade, so I do not have a first hand experience in how it can compare to those races. However, from what I do know is that every CX Nationals race isn’t without it’s challenges from both the promoting venue and mother nature. Cold weather racing is not for the faint of heart, and I’ve never known cross racers to be faint of heart. The conditions can be as gnarly as what has been experienced in epic cross nationals such as Tim Johnson racing to victory in a blizzard, or it could be a soupy wet and cold mess like Kansas City Nationals. The midwest brings you cold, icy, and a technically demanding course. If you truly believe that this is course is not worth the Nationals course, you haven’t given it a chance. We have two years to deal with Nationals at this course and we can make things accommodating and better for racers and spectators between now and January 6th – and even moreso next year with this year’s run.

We are all in the midwest together – and this is our gem we can highlight as ‘our own’ and we have the ability to make it shine despite any circumstance and put our best foot forward for our visiting racers. We are a great racing scene when spread across WORS, ChiCrosCup, DINO, ICA, WCA, etc. – let’s not let initial opinions misguide the effort to produce one of the best cross racing experiences this part of the country can offer. If a Californian thinks its retarded to race in sub-zero weather – well kudos to them for living in California. This is how we roll, let’s roll proudly and let’s roll together on this race.

The quartet was all musical, with no singer to carry a presence through to an audience, so it was on us to ensure the music was well structured enough to capture an audience’s attention and have relevant themes so that we wouldn’t be confused with a college hippy jam band. We had one very specific rule that we all abided by – what we created in the practice sessions and the studio recordings, absolutely, unequivocally, had to be played note for note live. No flubs or ad libs allowed in the live performance. This was incredibly important to us as the backgrounds for us four, were based in progressive rock and classical music, all either classically trained or part of our curriculum vitae in higher education. This was a much harder goal to achieve that any of us had anticipated. I had read an interview from Joe Satriani in 1988, a year that was influential to my learning of the guitar, where his answer to the question “When do you think you will feel like you’ve accomplished everything about guitar playing?” – His answer – “When I have every note on the fretboard at my disposal at any time” or to that effect. That had a profound influence on my study of the guitar. To have every note at one’s disposal is complete confidence and mastery of every nuance of the musical spectrum – a lofty achievement for a virtuoso. Happy accidents in the studio from either inspirational moments, or whiskey induced late night sessions, sometimes are very hard to recapture exactly as they were conceived. We insisted on ditching any musical phrase that was captured in practice, and not able to be replicated live in rehearsal. This was a tiring but effective ethic that played out well in that we were completely satisfied with every performance we gave – knowing we represented our ideas to the harmonic flair and odd time measure of every song we played with absolute love and certainty.

Racing bicycles has taken me down the same path. Mountain biking and cyclocross, but most significantly cyclocross as of late; reminiscent of the rapid fire progression in some of the difficult transitions in an above 80BPM solo transition that has to tangle with complex rhythm patterns, and abrupt signature time changes. There is little to no room for error, and when there are errors, they are magnified with gaps of racers fleeting by or visible to the spectator as the flub on the course met with heckles. In a live musical performances such failings, to the general listener, can be overlooked and hopefully recovered from with some graceful entry into the next phrase – at the end of the set, you’re still left with that mental gaffe thinking how awful you’ve made that song sound. I feel that way about racing that is so visible to spectators. I focus on a clean delivery and execution of the motions, focusing on fast turns and conquests of the technical sections of which I can nail down well, even when I know that at my redlined best, I can’t summon any greater speed than I have when I give my performance on the racecourse. I want to give a harder performance with gusto than what I was practicing daily before the rock show on the course. Sometimes, my playing is solid and smooth albeit slower played than my virtuoso counterparts who indeed are flying at the speed of a Petrucci solo. Which is why I practice, to nail a perfect race and progress as much as I can to learn the new licks that will get me further ahead.

It took me about ten years to feel confident in my own guitar soloing capability where I wasn’t merely playing or stealing licks from other guitarists and morphing them into my own style. In my formative years as a budding musician, I would force myself to focus on speed drills and endless practices to myself and my books attempting to break the Yngwie Malmsteen arpeggiated solos of eighties metal rock lore. I would come close and pull off impressive licks here and there, but in the end, I was playing someone else’s song and wasn’t dreaming up the rock on my own. I was thankful to have bonded with music teachers who helped me find a voice for my own style and not sweat the details of trying to come up with the ultimate solo, but to appreciate the totality of the musical composition to find where the notes would fall most impactfully, and from there, to find my own place.

I find myself having found my place in my racing, and in that place, my motivation to succeed where I can and push forward, finding the next lick to learn, the next power chord progression to the next category, and the desire to win with my own solo. The reality that it took me so long to find it in music, gives me clarity that in racing too, I will need to find my place and continue the plight to improve over time. Each race is the new opportunity to excel and test the licks I’ve learned from weekly training. I appreciate the totality of CX racing as a result too, where having a beer as a recovery drink, and socializing with friends is as much the great experience as the race itself. I have found yet again, motivation and opportunity.

The season is dwindling down for some in the racing scene as we launch into the black friday season of the year of seasonal beer and fried turkey goodness. The motivation to forge on past the holidays in the dimly sunlit skies of January for Nationals, is not for everyone. The stage is set, however, for the best performance of 2012 as the cap to a great season of off-road racing. Performances can still be had, in the jam band fashion at Afterglow and in full on rockstar mode at the New Year’s Eve UCI race. Afterall, with all the racing and training everyone has been doing, the least that should be done is to show the new licks learned throughout the year.

Let’s be frank, bedroom guitarists never get laid. If you’ve been jamming – come to the stage, rock it out, you’d be surprised how many people will support you regardless of what you perceive of your performance. Much like when I thought I flubbed a solo, the fans still cheered and I kept playing on. I fell off a stage once while soloing at the famed Metro, believe me, the show went on, and so did I, to finish the solo with another guitar and with huge applause. I didn’t practice my ass off to stop at one guffaw on the live circuit, why should anyone else do different. You’ve been practicing weekly to trip the live fantastic for the Sunday performance; why not see how far you can take it. If anything, you’ll be best prepared for the spring, and surprise yourself how well you glide into the next off road challenges. I’ve always never understood musicians who would practice endlessly and never show the chops off. Every solo should be heard, because every solo, gets applause. Be awesome – keep racing – rock into next year, and always. Your solos too will be greater and louder for it.

I met him shortly after having read about his Chicago escapade, an unassuming kind natured fellow who had a serious thirst for learning about bicycle racing. He volunteered heavily with the cycling club he joined, and was quick to help administrate a lot of the management functions behind the scenes. He registered to become a USA Cycling Level 3 coach, quickly moving to a Level 2, and started blogging about the experience of bicycle racing to preach his newfound love to his friends. His interaction with both the team he served, and the cycling community was a breath of fresh air to the racing community as the information he provided was from the perspective of someone who was doing and not just preaching. He garnered many fans and support for providing the opportunity for a wealth of information to be catalogued and ready for public consumption and is widely considered the de facto site to review as an incoming freshman to the Category 5 fold. Speaking of categories, in a matter of four solid years of dedication to the sport, he moved from a Category 5, to 4, to 3, and now 2 – staring at the potential to reach the ultimate category of ’1′. His dedication to the sport further increased his participation to drive the vision of his once elite struggling club – into a force to be reckoned with in every category with a finite structure of how to elevate through the ranks of which he himself represents the Elite level of the road team. He honed his programming skills by way of improving his team’s website. He even provided a legal and fun gambling outlet for cyclists to enjoy throughout the year, challenging odds and providing a safe at work outlet to further interact with the growing cycling kinships His photographs have provided a fan’s perpsective and received acclaim for capturing the excitement of the sport. His participation in the most well known Chicago CX coffeebook has cemented his capability to capture the spirit of the sport. His personal career, working for a major publication, has allowed him some inlet to further highlight his passion when it was convenient – further growing the city’s interest in cycling activities.

I’ve personally witnessed this friend go to the mattresses on tough issues that both affect the inclusiveness and divisiveness of the bicycle racing community. His soft spoken nature beguiles the tenacity he has proven to conduct professionally on the race course. It is sometimes visible in his chipped tooth grin – the reminder that he is willing to sacrifice self for the sake of reaching the next personal limit. He has fielded a likely amount of tens of thousands of e-mails – asking for more information, advice, and ideas to help bring to fruition. He handles them all with equal friendliness and aplomb, testament to a kind individual. He has been loyal to his team, and is a direct proponent to why they have achieved success in the way they have. And now, he is representing his team as a bonafide dirtbag who has earned every corner, every mud ladened turned, and every off camber section, and a completely solid Category 2 CX racer who is turning heads and surprising people in his newfound success.

Surprising everyone but me. Luke Seeman isn’t a cyclocross miracle. He is a bonafide hard working racer who has paid his dues and has practiced what he has learned throughout five years of proven results and is a model of excellence for the cycling community. The amount of contribution he has dedicated of himself to the sport, to his friends, to the city, and to the region – are tantamount and equal to the well deserved success he has achieved.

Luke is our friend and one for whom the bonebell tolls for achieving a great success this year in cyclocross. He’s a dirtbag in our books; and he can only further his success the way he has been all along, silently, committed, and inspired by his fans. Steve Tilford has nothing on Luke Seeman.

Congrats on your Masters 30+ win at Woodstock!

Photo Credit: Tipping Point Photography

The time I do spend on my bikes is definitely cherished and I take advantage of it every chance I get – and nowadays, it’s not just my own endeavor, it is now one that I can share with my daughter to continue her enthusiasm of my love of bikes. She gets to claim her own spot at the shop when she visits with me, and she has a firm knowledge of where the tools and cool parts are. I’m enjoying the new priorities of cycling in my life with a low pressure attitude of approaching the serious part of training and racing. I recently re-charged with a rest week, and an awesome weekend in New York City. Being away from a weekend of racing in Chicago was actually slightly difficult that no amount of eastern brew and fabulous experiences could replace – the community I’ve come to love in Chicago’s bicycling circles.

I find the days getting easier now as I ironically settle into a chaos of a schedule that makes my parents wince in horror as to why my wife and I subject ourselves and our children to it. So here’s snapshot of one day in the life of the Mayan clan.

5:00AM – Up and at ‘em, wife with the dog, and I get suited up for the bicycle fun.
7:00AM – Kids are in route to school with the wifey, I’m destroying myself at CX Practice.
9:00AM – I get to work and bury myself in technology initiatives to make healthcare data something bitchin’
5:00PM – I rush out the door to pick up babe #1 at a south loop daycare location, then proceed to sitting in traffic to get to babe #2 at a northside school.
6:00PM – Prepare dinner for said babes – separately, and negotiaing constantly on the proportion of veggies to dessert ratios. Meanwhile, wifey is now destroying herself at her workout routine with a personal training group.
8:00PM – wrestling the dog for the babe #1′s toys; and washing babe #2′s hair; while keeping babe #1 from chewing on the dog toys. I wait for wifey to get home for workout #2 for the day as prescribed by my awesome coach.
9:00PM – wifey is home, babe #1 is fast asleep, babe# 2 wants Mommy time and is making excuse number 500 on why she can’t fall asleep. Wifey contemplates reaching for the ‘mommy juice’ to maintain her sanity for a few minutes. I have returned from workout #2 desperately thirsty for ‘papi juice’.
10:00PM - decompression time begins, talks about tomorrow activities, each to our laptop digging through information and scheduling out the rest of the month’s activities, the tv is on with typically ‘Law & Order’ on perpetual re-run action while we mull the day over.
10:01PM – have a quiet minute to reflect on something peaceful.
10:02PM – bantering over who has the responsibility of the next date night and why our babysitter is not available when we want them, struggling to avoid another round of ‘mommy and papi juice’ knowing full well we’ll just fall asleep on the couch to the AMC Network.
10:15PM – second wind kicks in and I log-in to work to get the morning’s activities figured out so that I can attend conference call from a cafe instead of the office knowing full well that doing the endurance workout in the morning would make me late to the office anyway; realization that working remotely is the bees knees. Wifey decides to scrapbook as to not forget what we ever did the previous week, ever again, ever.
11:59PM - the oh-shit o’clock alarm rings in our heads that we are up way too late yet again and need to sleep at least three hours before tomorrow.
2:00AM – wake up and realize we are both asleep in a pile of drool on the couch and to an infomercial on TV. drag ourselves to bed; await the 5:00AM alarm.

This is indeed and truthfully our daily routine. I’m glad that we do it – and when we have hours to dedicate to the kids, we most certainly do at every chance we get, sometimes fighting each other at the chance to be the one to have the next great outing idea to spoil the kids on. It’s nothing particularly special, especially since I would safely estimate that over 80% of the bicycle racing scene in the dirtbag world are in the same chaotic part of life, with or without kids – managing life, love, and duty to the nth degree.

I love bicycle racing. I love the culture. I love my family. It’s all worth the effort – hopefully, decisions I make, show that in the future of my kids. May they find a less vigorous way to live their lives more invigorating than their parents. No biggie.

My stepfather, had an incredibly strict regiment that was born out of necessity, then honed through the military system, and carried on through his life, to his family, and inevitably, me. I’ve seen him run over fifteen marathons, most under 3 hours. He had shin splints, tendonitis, bursitis, and every runner’s affliction concievable – and nary did I see a wince of pain of grimace in his face while running. It was old school – no pain no gain. This undoubtedly affected my psyche in any sports endeavor I would do after witnessing his athletics in my formative years. In fact, it hasn’t been until recent years that we’ve spoke of his mentality and it’s impact on me in my life. The irony, is that in his current age, now in his sixties, he reflects on his hardcore mantras and willingness to persevere, and he thinks now – he wishes he would have thought he hadn’t the need to prove himself all the time.

His belief system was born out of a time that he wasn’t socially accepted to be an equal among his peers. A short statured Mexican man in a very American army in the sixties led to a lifelong struggle to prove his worth to every solider, boss, peer, and sometimes his own family that he had the gumption to overcome anything given to him. He was no longer the boy that sold fruit on the streets of Mexico – and he could prove it.

I recently had to attend a three day training session on the discovery of belief systems and how they can influence management decisions. The belief systems we carry have a negative or positive impact in the way we deal with people both consciously and sub-consciously through the years of re-inforcing those beliefs on our own, perhaps even without knowing that we build them up throughout our lives. This was not necessarily an eye opening type of seminar for me – but it did allow me an opportunity to reflect this value of pain that I have carried with me to this day. I can endure pain and suffering for long periods of time because I carried that belief system with me from childhood – a man I looked up to was invincible and measured success by extreme tolerance. There’s pain tolerance, and then there’s winning a race.

Every Sunday’s CX battlefield is filled with the hopeful pain gluttons looking to overcome over 30 minutes of lung searing ‘fun’. Personalities in the field vary from the athletically lean and focused to the beer can swigging chubster in spandex. I line up next to the mixed personalities, one of which wants to destroy me at any cost, and the others who are happy to let me go by without a fight. No matter what the pain tolerance is in each individual – they will all endure pain and their dealing of that pain is what may separate their chance of growing stronger or enraging themselves to failure. It’s only been four cross races into the season, and I’ve been cussed at, raged at, and even once at the USGP Madison, physically manhandled and thrown into a course stake. I am non-plussed. I am my step-father. You will not get to me.

This past Sunday’s race – I was speaking to some friends who are newer to cross but were completely lauding themselves and each other for reaching deep down into the pain cave so far that it warranted dry heaves immediately after the race finish. They were still smiling. They had reached a darkness and tunnel vision only visible to the few that push themselves hard into the cave in the race. There they stood, with half smiles and giggles, the lot of women they were, gleeful that they have overcome a pain they thought wouldn’t end. There was grace in their eyes even still after their effort and the sense of pride that they found what they were looking for. Pain. Only a cyclocrosser would be so bold to call pain, fun.

Everyone deals with pain differently on and off the course. Whatever beliefs we each were brought up on dealing with pain is very much going to be subject to coming out clear in the open – in the cross race, amongst our friends, in the field, at the line, at the course. Do you curse when you feel pain? Do you lash out when you feel pain? Do you quietly suffer in pain? Do you smile in pain? Know that you can change your belief in how you deal with pain; and it may indeed change your perception that you’re not just doing cross for fitness or fun – but to actually try to win your race every week. Every week you have a chance to win the race you want. Maybe next week you win the race by not taking things to personally on the course, perhaps you push harder around the corners and not let people pass you as you curse them as they ride away, perhaps you lay it all out so well, you can’t stand when you cross the line.

My stepfather recently carried his newborn grandson. He was nervous as hell that he’d drop his new grandson. He was laughing and incredibly jovial while being nervous about it, this stoic Army sargeant, and unsure of his nature to be a gentle grandfather given his machisstic legacy. He was merely afraid he’d cause his grandson any pain, because now later in life, he has discovered that no one should endure any more pain than they have to. There is nothing left for Sargeant Moreno to prove, than to be gentle.

Over 4,000 miles driven across the U.S.
4 Year Old daughter has ridden more off-road miles than I did.
New infant daughter is now a crawling tiger.
I got a new job that is ironically devoid of internet connectivity given my status in Information Technology.
Got hit be a tri/path-lete at over 25MPH which tore my knees open and messed up my wrist.
Built a new bike – again.
Built a training program with Warren Cycling to achvieve some lofty goals for Nationals.
Still continually humbled at human kindness and friendship in every dirt endeavor I have attended to date.

The Bonebell has been quiet – but fear not. It will clang once again and the steam is building, the races are targeted, in total there will be over 60 races raced between the whole lot of The Bonebell Crew from now through January. We love all of you for continuing to hang on our words and our experiences, to provide you the human view of our dirty world. Sitting in-between cross races at the first official throwdown of the Chicago Cross Cup yesterday at Jackson Park, it was evident that The Bonebell must bring the human back into the race; and obliterate the pansy driven whine that should have stayed on the pave with drafting principles. Dirtbags thrive in the most disparate conditions, challenging the course, the weather, and themselves to acheieve a personal victory – actually winning a race is just the icing on the cake.

Everyone wins. That is not a cop out answer or a relegation into ‘try your best attitude’. Everyone hurts in a race, and nearly 700 souls suffered together on one Sunday in the rain while at least 500 times that amount sat on a couch eating chips. This year could be pivotal in raising the bar for talent to represent Chicago in a big way at the national races. That talent will naturally rise from the categories, dodging crashes, finessing corners, and powering to victories – no matter their start position. With that talent we wish great camaraderie and respect to be shared among the ranks.

Let Chicago be represented by the positive attitude and hard workers of the race scene who know that – aggressive racing can be as fluid and artful as it is dominant, and that words are spared for heckling efforts after the race and perhaps even during a race.

“Hold your line” will now officially be the phrase to be ignored during this CX season.

Have a problem with that? Attend CX practices to fix your problem.

US CX Nationals – Chicago is coming for you.

Remember: Everyone will crash.

The day couldn’t have been any more different than last year, cooler temperatures and dewey fog brought on by the impending storms fast approaching the farmlands. Almost triple the amount of brave souls showed up to participate in the challenge this year – all with a hearty appetite to appreciate the difficult roads ahead of us in spite of the looming weather prediction. We rolled out in unison, with smiles, with abundant glances of luck to each and every one. The neutral roll out was calm, and led into the open road where the men with serious horsepower took immediate charge and laid out the notion that they were here to take mother nature on directly with the same fury she was to unleash on us. I glanced down and was thankful I wasn’t entirely on the rivet, but definitely took caution to maximizing their attack and gauged my legs accordingly, a five minute assault on the field in a 32 mph breakaway made the field disappear quickly in the fog behind us. It was to be a difficult push in the upper echelon of my ability to sustain the effort to keep from being dropped completely, and my friend Allan, was there to keep the pace steady early on. Riders that underestimated how hard it is to keep high paces, were shed off in the first half hour, first forty five minutes, and eventually the first hour, shaping out the leads of the field.

I felt great. Solid, great power, and propelled by the confidence of last year’s performance, I kept the pace on even when I pulled away from the groups that helped lead me into better positions, the legs were abiding by the natural cadence of a consistent attack. This was helpful, since I took a wrong turn. Unfortunately, I misread a cue and the foggy view of the course, hid the pack after a certain distance and though I saw them turn, I missed the immediate turn afterwards and found myself at a crossroads, literally, waiting for the pack behind me to catch me to ask where the hell I was going. They reached me and the conclusion that we indeed went off the course. We blasted back in reverse and noted the correct turn where other groups were turning into. This mistake, though costly, was at most a mile of a difference – I knew I could make up a mile and proceeded in doing so, hammering out a faster pace and immediately cruised to catch the groups ahead. The rain started. The rooster tails of debri, water, and pebbles slapping every rider, cruising out of draft lines to avoid being continually pelted. I found more friends all wondering where the hell I came from, and quickly charged ahead to lead them into the section that I had been longing for which I knew was the determining factor in the ride.

The mud. All of the obnoxious mud that has been the nemesis of mountain bikers enjoying the trails in Chicago and throughout the region. I knew the path would disappear into the fields of mud and that alone would destroy people or in my case, invigorate them to ride a path that wasn’t red flagged for protection of a trail system. No holds barred riding through the muck to get to the next checkpoint as fast as possible. New lines were discovered through the mud, the grass, and the unknown. The mud led to the gravel again, and the rain continued. The path led to the Dead End sign where I remember the real onslaught awaited us. There was a creek crossing first before the continued drudge through the mud – the creek was ankle deep when I arrived and it was moving swiftly enough that I could feel a misstep would pull me into the water. I crossed, and then continued the muddy plight. A friend who was nearby had stated he was beginning to cramp up. My generous nature dispensed a half pack of electrolyte chews on the trail for him to retrieve of which he did and it gave him immediate relief. We rode together, with good skill navigating through the mud as the rain now starting coming down faster and with more desperation to break into the storm of the darker clouds ahead of us indicated. The skies crackled. One of the crackles was so loud, it felt like it came from below me. That was because it did, and I stood over my bike, motionless, incapable of being forced into gear, because there were no more gears. The rear derailleur jammed into my wheel and broke in half.

The rain pecked at my helmet. I stood dumbfounded at my luck, having never experienced a mechanical of this nature, ever, in all my years of racing, adventures, and the like. I held a multi-tool in my hand trying to figure out the obvious which looked impossible. A rider came up and offered a chain tool which I gladly took hoping to salvage the chain for singlespeed duty. I couldn’t find how unfortunately. Riders would come by and offer advice and look at the mess and find themselves as confounded as I was. After about 10 minutes of coming to the realization that no multi-tool would save me from the mess I was now in – I shouldered my bike and continued the plight on foot. I walked out of the muddy section and made it to the road and walked alone for a good half mile when more friends came upon me and offered assistance and then realizing after seeing the situation, that it was indeed grim. Nevada Dave came upon me which was a surprise considering he wasn’t doing the ride but instead decided to do it anyway despite wearing pants and a cotton t-shirt and not so waterproof thin jacket. He rode ahead to notify the checkpoint I was in need of help. I continued my lonely trek in the rain on the road with the disparate view of farmhouses in the grey horizon of a darkened sky. I was though, in elation. I had a good ride up until that point, and had good legs. I couldn’t have asked for more. The walk now, is easy. The eye of the storm arrived in my lonely travail and the deluge met me isolated with no cover in the middle of the road as I carried my bike, at this point mile three of the journey. I couldn’t help but to be positive, in that in DeKalb, IL, a Latino was carrying a bicycle as expensive as some of the farm equipment around him, wearing black lycra that exalted ‘METAL‘. The irony and the backdrop of my situation was comical and provided levity in my attitude. In total I walked six miles on my own, with a wind gusts howling around me, and small hail pelting my helmet. I had plenty of time to get into a meditative mood and think of how easy it was to be me that day. I willingly signed up to do a ride in the eye of impending storm, knowing full well how crappy things could get. I would do it again.

There are people in Guatemala that deal with what I did on a daily basis, and in fact, not just Central America but the world over in rainforest climates. During the rainy periods of the tropical season, the rainforests are a thick muddy mess. The life in a forest isn’t so rough to the ‘campesinos’ (countrymen and women) who walk daily for miles on end for the simple things, out of necessity, struggle, and even basic recreation. I wouldn’t have dreamt of coughing up a single complaint about the situation I was in. There weren’t mosquitoes at least – and help was really a farmhouse knock away.

I couldn’t help but feel positive in my solo endeavor through the storm, knowing that my silly sport is purely recreation and not out of necessity. I found myself in the same thoughts one year ago, thinking of family and friends, as they kept me company in my thoughts, and laughing out loud and how ridiculous they must believe I am for choosing to do this to myself rather than stay inside and drink coffee. This ride was truly epic, on all counts. I heard afterwards that the creek I crossed became waist deep for some and even almost took a few riders downstream. They persevered and were found smiling in the warmth of North Central Cyclery afterwards. This was a race of the human capacity of mind, body, and spirit – and those that finished it, will be greater for it and will bask in the sun, more jubilant than before. Congratulations to all who participated, the telling smile on every rider’s face spoke volumes – they all fought Mother Nature, and won.

I am a Bontrager fan, and have been ever since I fell in love with the XDX tread. It is a great 29er tire that offers lower rolling resistance, great cornering, and decent handling through most conditions when used at the right pressure. In fact I had them in two sizes, 2.0″ for cushiony float, and 1.75″ for faster non-technical racing. The XDX was in my opinion an enhancement of the Kenda Small Block Eight tread pattern – wider spaced knobs, made for better traction and grip on the rooty and loose soil mix at Palos, Kettle, and beyond. I tend to gravitate more towards the compounds that Kenda offers in their tires. For both weight savings and racier grip, I did rely on the XDX almost entirely – that is until now.

[Disclaimer: The process I am describing below is not advocated by Kenda and performing the conversion will void any and all warranties with your tires, please do so at your own risk and understanding of this]

I have been converting non-UST tires to tubeless since day one. There weren’t many offerings of UST specific tires 7 years ago, so rather than waiting for a tire to be available, I’d use Stan’s No-Tubes to seal tires up and run them tubeless. I haven’t looked back since. It is very effective method of riding tubeless and running lower pressures without fear of pinch flats. Every tire had it’s limitations due to the softer beads and compounds interacting without internal support of a tube – so not every tire converted absolutely well. The few that did became staples in everyone’s rigs and those that come to mind were Kenda’s, Schwalbe’s, and Maxxis’ line of tires. This is by no means an exclusive list and everyone’s mileage and opinion varies because it is highly dependent on the type of riding people subject the tires to and in what conditions they ride them in. For Kenda’s, I have found the magic solution to work best was Effetto Mariposa’s Caffe Latex. What I appreciate the most out of this solution is it’s ability to seal more effectively with less concern of ammonia eating away at the inside of the rubber casing of tires that haven’t been certified for UST use. All tires are porous, and to make a tire non-porous, material is added to the inside lining of the sidewall to offer protection and durability to the sidewall casing. The Caffe Latex I have run in previous Kenda tires has run incredibly well and have two sets of complete tires that are still in use after hundreds of miles through all four seasons for two years running, they are still in great shape internally.
I received the Kenda Slant Six five weeks ago and promptly put them on my bike. I immediately ogled the tread pattern and knew right then I was going to love how they were going to feel. They are advertised as the love child between the Small Block Eight and the Nevegal, however, when viewing the treads closely compared to the actual tires mentioned, it is more of an interpretation of both – in fact, I think the better definition would be a melding of the Small Block Eight, the Karma, and the Nevegal. Low middle ramped knobs with a pronounced rectangular and angled knob on the sides that maintain the rounded shape that the Small Block Eight and Karma are known for but with the biting knob the Nevegal has on the side.

I have since put over 20 hours of ride time on the set of Slant Six’s and have indeed put them through all conditions – wet rooty conditions, mud, loose rock, gravel, loamy grass, steep pitched dirt climbs with roots, and loose gravely and technical descents. The tire has become my new all time favorite, replacing the XDX as the champion of my collection and heading to the race start line for endurance racing. The rolling resistance is instantly felt, the weight for each non-UST 29er format tire was between 590-620 grams a tire. This is not uber light like a non UST Schwalbe Racing Ralph in even a 2.4 size (they are low 500 gram tires!) – but it’s not bad compared to their Nevegal brethren at 880-915 grams a tire. The weight range is not a surprise, every tire, especially MTB tires, have a variance in the amount of rubber composite used for each, so they will vary though not greatly. I rode the tires through some thorny sections of trail and even received a few minor scratches on the sidewall as a result, but nothing damaging or penetrating past the rubber. I can say with confidence that the rubber compound on the sidewall, in spite of not having a more built-in protection, are not delicate either. They will sustain the abuse of the midwest arena very well and provided that you don’t jab them directly into sharp rocks on the sidewalls, you should be fine. The middle knob section rolls with low resistance as expected, but at 30/32 PSI front and rear respectively, they were as grippy as I’d liked them to be on the rooty sections and the demand of fast turns and loose sections. These tires don’t designate a rear or front tire tread usage, I installed them with the chevrons pointing forward, including the rear – I don’t abide by the principle of reversed chevron for the rear typically. On several particular climbs on loamy wet grass mixed with some mud, the rear slid but caught traction quickly. In the mud, the rubber compound sheds the sticky peanut butter consistency very well and still manages to dig in whatever it has to keep moving forward. I was very surprised with how well it handled even the thickest of muddy conditions and it wasn’t entirely intentional either, I was able to maintain traction and control in thick muddy situations.

The side knobs are the magic to this tire. They are perfectly placed at the outer edge of the rounded surface where the tire meets a curve at it’s sharpest angle – the knobs are rectangular and spaced appropriately to provide a rail of knobs that continually hold onto the surface. I purposely tried to break the strides of a turn on fast corners on gravel to see where the breaking point of the front and rear would be – taking corners at 20+mph on gravel digging the front tire in hard and nary hitting the brakes. I was surprised that even at a 24mph turn without hitting brakes, the rear never once provided even so much of a fade of control. On a more sandy doubletrack with ruts, at 20+mph, I hit a section where the front did want to go in another direction and slid away from me, but it was easily controllable to get back on track and not lose my front end. On straight up curvy singletrack, the knobs really shined. I railed many corners digging the front tire deep into the dirty pockets with confidence knowing it was tracking well and accurately. I could point and shoot the front with ease and without concern to the minor obstacles or looseness of trail debris. Where the tire especially shines is in hardpack as to be expected providing a phenomenal center line grip and cornering prowess of a velcro strip.

I took a stab on at least 15 times going up a particular section that transitions from a downhill fast gravel section onto a very loose railroad rock upshot – this transition is tricky at speed and trickier when your tires lose 100% traction due to the small rocks immediately shifting under you. The rear slipped and slid out on 90% of those efforts. This is not a negative but definitely worth pointing out that they will not hold a loose rocky ascent very well if you don’t grind the climb or transition smoothly – the low knobs are a fatal flaw for any loose rocky uphill section. Once seated onto loose rock, they are manageable and still predictable. The front is very stable at speeds and responds well to body english and steering input, never did I feel a time it wanted to drift into another particular direction in a non-controllable way. This inspires confidence, thus speed.

Currently, Kenda is not offering a UST version of the 29er tire, and this is not news as they are slow to produce those offerings large scale, most likely because of the greater weight disadvantage it makes a 29er tire no doubt. However, and again with the large caveat about Kenda’s warranty, running them tubeless works out very effectively and run above the 30psi range very well without issues. If you run lower than 30 psi I would caution that you monitor how much the tire may squish against the trail and objects to see where they flex most – this is where your burp point is and for the safety of yourself and the integrity of your rim, don’t push it lower than you have to. At 165 lbs., on a dual suspension, I’m pushing 30 up front and it’s plenty of great grip and less rolling resistance. If you are looking to outfit a fully rigid, I’d opt for a larger size for greater float and cushion. The 2.0 size is what I’ve been running and it’s true to size and plenty comfortable. I’m looking forward to racing this tire at endurance MTB events this year and I’m sure it will shine in every course I can point it at in the midwest.

I’ve learned over the past decade of epic mountain bike riding from the midwest WEMS Series to riding across venues in Utah like Moab and Park City, that nutrition intake is absolutely critical to measure out carefully to sustain the experience of multi-hour rides effectively. Basic principles of electrolyte replenishment, caloric intake, and hydration all need to be balanced out appropriately to give you the greatest performance benefit without disrupting your your body’s normal feeling – i.e. that bloaty-I’m-so-hungry-I-can-eat-three-cheeseburgers-but-can’t feeling. Mountain biking has some specific intensities that throw a wrench into the standard routine of ‘add two scoops of this and one shot of that’. Every rider responds differently to their efforts, and mountain biking provides many performance peaks and lows and the pace and temperature outside at which you take them may also directly affect the tolerance of what you ingest. Here’s the breakdown, unlike road riding where you can measure effectively a sustained effort over time relatively well most times, mountain biking (especially racing) may depend greatly on the course you are tackling. Your nutrition and hydration for a three hour ride at Moab is vastly different than a three hour at Kettle Morraine. So getting to know what and how you ingest your nutrition is key to being successful at racing. Part of this exploration is finding the product that agrees with you and the other components you add.

I was given a 25 serving bag of Carbo Rocket Raspberry flavored sports drink by Brad to try out for a few weeks on my daily routine and racing. I have been using it for six weeks now and even did two races with it and have formed a solid opinion on how my body has been handling it and how I’ve performed as a result. I expressed to Brad that I had a similar experience to him last year, where, I hit a discomfort level in what I was ingesting previously during endurance mountain bike races – so much so, that I had to desperately figure out why and change my routine that I was used to following for a few years. He said he had the same experiences and those experiences led him to create the specific mixture found in the Carbo Rocket lineup. I was eager to try something that was created based on my personal experiences with other products.

Off the bat, it passed the very first test of solubility as promised. The powder dissolves quickly without clumping. This is very important as it helps avoid the nasty concentrated flavor clumps that surprise you when all you want is a swig of satisfaction on a hot summer day. A few hard shakes and you’re pretty much set on your way. This is very effective for hydration pack users where clumping most always is an issue.

The recommended mixture is 3 scoops per 20-24 oz. water bottle and for my weight at 165 lbs. – this was a dead on measurement for a bottle that lasts one hour. In endurance paced riding, especially when cooler, I don’t drink or ingest calories as much, but the mixture is satisfying enough to have on it’s own with few other calorie sources. I used the mixture at the Barry-Roubaix race which is a good indicator of how well it would help prevent cramping as the rolling hills at threshold pace would naturally bring this out. A 35 mile lap in just over an hour and forty five minutes only took one 24 oz. bottle with three scoops still – though I did take in some gel source in addition to the bottle. The drink mix was not only tasty, but definitely effective in a harder paced effort, my stomach was receptive. I used it again in the latest race at the Leland Kermesse – and this was a true test of how I’d feel about the product in a longer close to four hour threshold effort, a time and distance where the stomach really does tell the tale afterwards or during. I consumed two 20 oz. bottles of the mixture at the steady three scoops each and only used one other calorie source in the form of gel blocks and gel shots for the entire race. I have become very much in tune with my body and can feel when I’m hitting a calorie deficit and dehydration. This particular race was very windy and cold but I finished both bottles completely by race end, including all my additional calorie sources which didn’t amount to more than 500 calories beyond the bottles of Carbo Rocket. I felt replenished, fueled, and satiated for this type of effort and it was tempo to threshold paced effort the entire four hours. Temperature definitely had a play in reducing my need for more hydration – but I was very pleased that after the hard effort, my stomach was non-plussed and very willing to ingest three cheeseburgers and a beer without the thought of hurling it up. In fact, about 45 minutes after the race, I was able to sit and eat a decent meal without stomach troubles. I’d expect that after another few hours of using this sports drink would most likely leave me feeling just as comfortable.

The Raspberry taste was very pleasant and not too sweet for palate, however, a friend I gave a few scoops too had said he was very surprised at how sweet it was and that it was a bit too much for him. This only proves that everyone has a different taste for sweetness, but compared to Hammer Heed, and Clif Sports Drink equivalent, I’d rate Carbo Rocket as inbetween the two where I feel that Hammer can be syrupy and sweet, and Clif very transparent watery. Your mileage may vary on the taste, but the consistency is most definitely drinkable and not syrupy where you feel you’re working to ingest a drink rather than just swig from your bottle.

The Carbo Rocket Sports Drink is very well worth considering and picking up a few samples from your local bike shop or ordering online. In the large amount of offerings on the market, we proudly encourage giving Carbo Rocket a try as like other products we enjoy using and reviewing – it’s a company that is supporting the Chicago cycling scene and especially the dirtbag scene. It’s a good energy source, cramp preventor, and tasty drink to boot without ruining your appetite after the long haul. The pricing is just right as well for less than .90 cents per serving – compared to lesser quantities and higher pricing to their competitors.

I’m looking forward to using the Carbo Rocket 333 mixture soon for endurance events starting in May and will write-up my report on that. The 333 product is more of a carbohydrate replenisher in addition to the benefits of the sports drink to truly be an ultimate fuel source with a predetermined calorie per serving (you guessed it, 333 calories) to help take the guesswork out of figuring out your solution mix. If the Carbo Rocket Sports Drink was any indication of how receptive I should be to their new calorie enhanced product, I’m safely assuming it will be well ingested and comfortable.

Buddy had apparently been drinking prior to hitting the stage, and continued on, heavily, with the simple gesture of looking over at his employees behind the bar with a glare of ‘why is my mug empty?’ after every few stanzas of a legendary number. He was sharp, elated, and especially begrudged. He played the typical openers that everyone cooed too and as they raised their glasses in drunken respect to the master of soul hearted feel, and he seem perturbed. Much so, that by the fourth song, he let the band keep playing while he approached the mic with steely old eyes squinting into the blue light laced audience, and simply asked the audience – “Do you know the blues?”. The audience roared back, “YEAH!” emphatically as a signature response to a call and response blues number. Buddy, gleamed back with a wry smile and the music quieted down, and he roared back to the crowd into his mic – “No, YOU DON’T know the BLUES!”. He then laughed and quibbled to himself quietly on the mic, “You don’t know a damn thing about the blues…”. Those who had been listening to carefully to him that night could tell it wasn’t just any night of Buddy being the drunken version of himself, it was Buddy, being truthful and rightfully asking on his own premises, if the audience truly knew what it was to know the blues. His love, his life, his entire world consisted of this melodrama of mellifluous notes describing the soul of generations of artists that have felt the emotional and cataclysmic turns of life. He knew that this audience he was speaking to wasn’t entirely in the blues realm as he was that moment, they were just watching the blues happen and not being part of the blues itself.

I spent a Sunday afternoon watching the Paris Roubaix in much the exalted fashion that all my cycling friends love to watch the spring classic come legend. The anticipation of the drama and the celebration of one of the most time honored traditions of the cobble famed race is kept steady with the unknown fact of who can win the race – it’s the true race of attrition in which any named favorite could be outdone by a simple flat, a crash, or beaten by the course itself. This is the blues. The deep down emotion of struggle displayed for all to view in the grit and calamity of one of the toughest road races on the planet. The blues is not about the downtrodden grief by itself, it is redemptive and by the end of the soulful journey, an apparition of hope is left behind to even the most in despair. The Spring Classics are what build the character to survive the onslaught of the summer grand tours where the roads are superior, curves more elegant, and finish lines more grandiose. The Spring Classics are what we in Chicago watch in unified delight with a beer in hand wishing that we too could prove our mettle in much the same way that our heroes display on our HDTV from the comfort of our own couch. We have in effect become the audience to the blues concert, hooting and hollering for our heroes, with sometimes the disconnected sense of what it is to know the blues.

The blues in Chicago is still easily attainable – whether you want to drop in at one of the many hidden lounges still preaching the solemnity of failure reborn into hope, or at a local race designed to put the grief into you. The outcome is the same, redemption from the hallows of despair. To know the blues, is to experience the blues, to be down with it in all it’s distasteful wantonness. The destruction of lethargic attitudes can only be done with an emotional hammer the size of Jupiter, and it’s not found just laying around anywhere. It’s in the offerings of the pre-serious-race season of the summer months. You can’t save your soul on a trainer, no matter how awful you think that seventh level of hell is. You most definitely won’t learn anything serious about fending for your spot among the melee of the piss poor bike handlers or latching on to the well mannered echelon of the roadie lines. These inspired races of toughness are for learning a little something about the blues. They aren’t easy, they are fun, but they most definitely will attempt to break you. Few events have you calling your maker in the most desperate plea to keep yourself rolling and spinning to your own demise. And they are worth it to seek your valor. What you can complete in competition in these early races, may define the attitude you carry through the rest of the season. You should welcome and relish in the opportunity to seek the blues and come out as redemptive as the genre is intended to be.

Buddy Guy wasn’t calling out on his audience because he was mad at them, or wasn’t even bothered by it in his satiated state I’d imagine. I’d like to believe he was challenging people to get to know the blues on a level that he had gone through many moons ago; when he was cutting his teeth to his own idols night after night in the crappiest of venues for hours on end honing his craft, his soul, and his words to overcome the darkness of a different time in his era. To know the blues, is to live the blues, and by living it – we rise in the hallelujah chorus with the understanding that indeed, we overcame something we didn’t believe we had the strength once to overcome. Don’t just be elated at our heroes on the screen, rooting for their success on the cobbles of a country across an ocean – be that hero, for yourself, and for the season that you can be a greater rider for having endured it.