The "Dragon Slayer"

Great race report, from a great guy. 

The best thing about sport is setting a goal and making it happen--even if it seems impossible.   I can't imagine anything more ridiculous ambitious then 320 miles on gravel roads.  That's a major achievement.

When life gives you lemons...go trout fishing

After a particularly hectic couple weeks, I was looking forward to a weekend on the river.  In fact, weather permitting, I had even planned on a multi-day fly fishing extravaganza.  Weather did not permit.  Nor did practically anything else for that matter.

Early in the week the forecast called for heavy storms Sunday, so the fly fishing extravaganza was quickly downgraded to a one day excursion on the niangua-- the red headed step-child of a "fishing extravaganza."

Then, to top off this turd sandwich, my car decided to break down 30 minutes before I planned on hitting the road.  Normally I think I would have bailed on the trip and dismissed it as bad luck.  For whatever reason though, I was determined to get in some river time....so, thanks to the generosity of others, I was able to burrow a car to get out of town.  Unfortunately, I didn't make it to my destination until 2am due to the logistics of locating a car.

The fishing was tough---make that VERY tough.  I even tried to pretend I knew what I was doing by looking around for bugs. I found this golden stonefly that was about a size 14 under a rock (as well as a some fresh water scuds and some other small nymphs). 

I tried matching some flies to these bugs but nothing seemed to work that well.  In all, I landed 5 trout, all on either rubber legs or streamers.

The wind gusted all morning just hard enough to make casting nearly impossible.  Nonetheless, it was still nice to get on the river.  Though it would have been about 200% more relaxing if I wasn't working on 4 hours of sleep and I didn't have to immediately head back to return the loaner car.  Se la vie. 

Wake Up Call

The euphoria that comes with "springing forward" comes with an unfortunate side effect--its sucks to lose an hour of sleep.  After a week of early wake up calls that left me groggy and annoyed, I figured what better way to get out of the "time-change funk" then make my 2011 road racing debut.  This proved to be another wake up call.

The Perry Road Race is a five mile circuit at Perry Lake that crosses the dam then circles back on the spillway before ascending a steep half-mile climb to repeat the process.  The race was seven laps, which is 35 miles to those who flunked algebra. 

The first lap felt like we started off pretty fast (but I didn't get too great of a warm up).  Then the second lap I settled in and starting feeling better.  So towards the end of the second lap, when five guys attacked, I was attentive, but didn't care too much at mile 10 of a 35 mile race--especially since the wind was howling and a breakaway seem destined to fail.

I noticed a guy in front of me, who was obviously trying to position himself in the pack to bridge up to the move.  I'd raced with him before and knew he was pretty strong so I figured, "what the heck?"  Sure enough, he tried to bridge.  Since I saw it coming a mile away I had no trouble keeping his wheel.  We immediately cut their lead from about 15 seconds to 7 or 8 seconds.  I looked over my shoulder and saw that we picked up another strong rider to make three chasers.  I pulled through several times and we were making steady progress on catching.  On about the third time I pulled through, I took my pull, then looked over my shoulder to see that my other two counterparts in the chase had sat up.  Unfortunately we were about 30 seconds away from the "dam hill" and I was feeling cooked.  I sat up and fell back into the peloton where I was immediately shot out the back on the hill like crap through a goose--the peloton picked up the pace and caught the five riders in the break on the hill.

I ended up riding the next two laps with two other riders that also got dropped.  We almost caught back onto the peloton but never quite made it.  With three laps to go, my group of three became a group of one, as I got dropped again on the hill.  I think the peloton slowed considerably with two to go because the two guys I road with eventually caught back onto the peloton.  Unfortunately, I road the final two laps solo--which sucked because it was windy as hell.  As usual, I continued my tradition of getting dropped in early spring races.  So it goes.  There's always next time. 

Springing Forward

Daylight savings time is here!  My heart is a-pitter-patter with excitement-- and I'm not the only person who feels this way evidently.  This is one of the most underrated days on the calendar.  If you disagree, you are simply wrong.  I feel sorry for Arizonans, not only do they have to constantly show their state issued ID's to prove they aren't illegals, but they'll also never know the joy of officially giving the finger to 5pm sunsets for another 9 months.  If you're keeping score, that's three embedded links in one paragraph--an "Off the Front" record.

In honor of the first unofficial day of spring (and not having to endure the embarrassment of proving I'm a naturalized citizen) I rode at Swope Park.  The trails were in great shape.

Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same for myself.  Its funny how on good days--when I'm dialed in--I'm focused on the trail, the next obstacle, spinning a good cadence, etc.  When I'm not on good form, my mind wanders, I feel weird aches and pains that usually don't bother me, and I feel like I'm pedaling in squares.  Today was weird.  For about a third of the ride I felt great and another third I felt pretty weak and another third indifferent.  Strangely, these "thirds" came in no particular order and for no particular rhyme or reason.  This was probably the result of a series of minor myocardial infarctions--you can't argue with science.

If not for the clear medical evidence pointing to the myocardial infarction, I probably would have blamed it on the after effects of this:  (hint: not the disembodied hands, though they have been known to cause trouble)

We're having a heatwave, A tropical heat wave

The dirty, dirty bastard that is winter is finally begining to relent.  We're having a heatwave.  Even Walter Matthau agrees. 

In order to celebrate, I double-dipped with some fly fishing and cycling--though in all honesty, the fishing was planned long before I knew the weather would be decent.

Saturday I went fly fishing.  I was hoping to get in a float on the Niangua, however, the backroads were still snow covered.  So, instead, I made my second trip to Bennett in the last month.  It didn't disappoint.  Once again, fish were rising everywhere from about 11am-noon.  Once again, a high vis parachute BWO was the fly of choice.  Once the top water action slowed, I went back to a nymphing rig that I fished deep under an indicator.  This proved to be a wise descision.  The trout gods decided to smile upon me.  I'm not sure if it was because I took a "newbie" out for his first fly fishing trip or if it was just dumb luck.  Whatever the reason, I landed the 19 inch brown below on a green sparkle dub caddis emerger fished as a dropper under a weighted nymph--my biggest trout to date.

 

Sunday afternoon the temps soared to a scorching 58 degrees according to my car thermometer.  I hit the road with 7 others and got in about two and a half hours of good, tempo road riding.  This time of the year those miles are money in the bank. 

Supply and Demand

The "off the front" readership has been clammering in anticipation for a new post.  (dad--sorry I've been busy).  The law of supply and demand dictates that I write another post in order to keep the masses happy and avoid a Cairo-esque riot.  Because I haven't been keeping up with posting, this post is a "two-for-one."  Not be confused with this.....
                                         
(This actually is a "three-for-one"--or even a "six-for-one" if you count the bacon)

(1) Fly fishing.  Over sixty fish were brought to hand in a single day at Bennett Springs.  Probably 50 of the 60 were caught on dry flies.  The action was so fast that there was no time to even take pictures.  Fortunatly, 50% of the "readership" was in attendance.  Here is the hero of the trip.

                                                  
 
(2) Cycling.  Before "snow-maggedon," I was able to hit the road for a three hour excursion through scenic spring hill, Kansas.

Stay tuned for more delicious bacon-related blog posts. 

2011- Excuses and Goals

Sunday I finally got outside and was able to enjoy the snow.  Last week it dumped about 6 inches of snow and all week the conditions have been perfect for cross-country skiing.  All week I kept telling myself I would break out the skis but I couldn't find the motivation to get off the couch.  I kept telling myself it was too cold, or the skis didn't work properly the last time I used them and I didn't want to mess with them this year, etc. (the skis I use are hand-me-downs that have been of legal drinking age almost as long as me). 

Despite all my BS excuses, I finally decided to give it a whirl and went cross-country skiing with Conrad (the wonder dog) for about an hour or so.  I had a great ski.  Here's a picture of Turkey Creek I took while skiing.

After about an hour, I started getting tired and Conrad starting getting ice between his paws, so it was time to call it a day.  I wish I had gone earlier in the week because the snow was already too melted to be worth a crap.  Hopefully it will snow again this year.  All this got me thinking about excuses.

Basically, I realized I had been a complete turd all week.  Every single time I go riding, skiing, etc. I'm always glad I got out, even in the most nasty, crappy, and miserable conditions.  (see gravel grinder post).  I know this, but even still, I fall victim to laziness.