Ahhh...cyclocross

Watch out for the Barker family at around the 2:00 mark. Yeah, we're famous.

Soul crushing, spirit-killing MUD

Let's talk about mud.  There are several different types of mud: slick-as-snot mud, thicker-than-oatmeal mud, wet mud, dry mud (aka clay), deep mud, shallow mud.  Yep, lots of different kinds of mud.

And then there is PIR mud.  Sunday was race #7 in the Cross Crusade series and it was as if God spent the whole week preparing for it.  That is to say, it rained and rained and rained some more for the entire week beforehand, creating epic mud conditions at PIR.  

I don't think you really understand the meaning of the word "epic".  By epic, I mean shin-deep, off-camber, "you're definitely gonna fall in it" epic.  So, here's what I did: spun my wheels helplessly as I was passed by so many chicks, I lost count.  I also fell.  A lot.  At some point during the race, I shrugged my shoulders, stuck a grin on my face and embraced it.  

On one particularly off-camber 90-degree corner, I took out a 2-year-old spectator.  While I immediately stood up and started shaking my hands helplessly (since that was all I could do, given that my heart rate was hovering in the 500s by that point), the poor toddler's dad tried to put me back on my bike, all while yelling, "GO GO GO!" at me.  After that, I realized, this sport is stupid.  It is extraordinarily stupid.  For some reason, therein lies the appeal of cyclocross.  There is NO POINT, other than to ride a bike meant for the road, over a series of obstacles meant for a mountain bike.

For the rest of the race, through my typical race face grimace, I was laughing.  I PAY to do this? 

Yeah, I guess I do.  

I was 14th out of 72 women.  At Alpenrose, I was 14th out of 92 women.  At Rainier, I was 13th out of 61 women.  Do you see a pattern here?  I am beginning to hate every number that comes after 12.  It's like I'm a perpetual adolescent, stuck in those in-between years.  I can't drive yet, but I'm too cool for junior high dances.

For the last race in the series, I'm taking bets on two things: One, what will I place? and Two, will I spend my race secretly laughing once again?

Send your bets directly to me.  A six-pack of beer is at stake.

After Barkernews raced in the morning, he tried to warn me about the mud.  "It's pretty difficult," he said.  "Pshaw," I replied, "Every course thus far has been difficult."  If only I had known that he spoke the truth.

This is what we call "wet mud".

See all these women passing me?  At this point, I was just like, oh please, go ahead.  No, you first.

Runups with barriers and mud SUCK.  Literally.

This is what you look like after falling in the mud-repeatedly-and half of your team kit is white.  I had mud in unmentionable places after this race.

Let's put some perspective on all of this silliness.  I am the proud mother of the cutest bike-race-attending baby of all time.  So there.

Beautiful, glorious SNOW

In case you didn't notice, it has been snowing in the mountains.  A LOT.  Forgetting for a moment that Northwesterners are typically fickle snow-lovers who get so so so excited for the first snow, only to watch it all melt away in the next week's rains, we were enchanted.  The Barker family wanted to see and feel and taste snow and we wanted to do it yesterday.

Given a plan-less Saturday, there was nothing else to do.  It was time for a family hike with a toddler dressed like a cow.  Or a dalmatian, take your pick.

And how was it?

It was so fantastic.  It DUMPED snow all day long.  It dumped so much, in fact, that we skipped the baby sledding session and headed to the coffee shop instead.  Of course, we went on a snow hike before-hand and reveled in the wonderful, beautiful snow.

I love snow.  I really, REALLY love snow.

Halloween double header

I am not really in to Halloween. Costumes have never been my thing. Too much candy makes me want to vomit. I would rather spend pagan holidays rock climbing in the desert and sitting around a campfire.

But that's just me.

The Oregon bike racing community prefers to spend their Halloweens cyclocross racing through crazy amounts of mud, human barriers, and coffins, all in costume. Barkernews was on call for the weekend and I had nothing else to do. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, as the saying goes.

So I did. And it was awesome.

Heather, The Hizz, and I loaded up the Subaru on Saturday morning and headed to Points West aka Astoria, home of the Goonies, lots of fishing boats and the Clatsop County Fairgrounds, venue for two days of racing.

The course on Saturday was unlike any I have raced in my one short season as a cyclocross fanatic. The mud was interminable and killed any chances I had of passing fellow racers on the uphills (my one and only cyclocross strategy). The mud situation was not aided by a sudden sideways downpour ten minutes before the women's races that caused all of us to run for cover, call-ups be damned. I fell three times on one single runup, while the crowd heckled as I slid ass first back down the hill. I couldn't help but laugh. I mean, really? The whole fiasco was comedic. Forget holding a line. Staying upright became my one and only goal.

After that, I was all, Oh my God, this is really freaking FUN.

I rolled across the line in 8th place. Not my best, not my worst, but a complete blast of a race.

Sunday was costume day. Why Nov. 1st and not Oct. 31st? I don't know, I just try to follow the rules. The Hizz went as a tiger (bless you, Costco and your $10 costumes) and I, true to my past, was Strawberry Shortcake. When I went to purchase a costume last week, I could find nothing acceptable to wear to work AND in a cyclocross race in the adult section. Apparently firefighters and police officers now wear bikinis? I relegated myself to the kids' section, where I happened upon a costume that actually fit.

Turns out that Strawberry Shortcake is very cute, but she is not a very fast cyclocross racer. Maybe it was Sunday's course, which included human barriers (yes, humans laying horizontally in the course that the racers had to run over), coffins, smoke machines, strobe lights, MUD, MUD and MORE MUD, horse barns, a rodeo arena, bark dust/peat moss (I don't really know the difference between the two) singletrack and beer sprayed on me.

It was a little insane. The crowd was crazy. I placed 13th. I didn't care. Well, maybe a little, tiny bit. But, mostly? I just laughed. I guess cyclocross is like that.

Then we drove home and I was so happy Halloween was finally over. I am too old to have this much fun.

Mud, mud, and more mud. This picture does not do the mud justice.

The Hizz crawled around in the mud. I rode my bike in the mud. In the end, we hugged and shared more mud.

The coffin barriers and the crowd. The coffins changed position each lap. Yikes!

Will Strawberry Shortcake ride again next year? No one really knows...

*YAWN*

Fall is upon us which means that it's dark.  All the time.  It's dark when I wake up in the morning, it's dark when I leave the gym in the evening.  It's just DARK.

Barkernews and I's response has been HIBERNATION.  We are no longer able to stay up past 9:30pm and when the alarm goes off at 6:30am, we stumble around as if we have been woken suddenly by a gun-wielding burglar at 1am.

Due to hibernation and other life conflicts, I must admit that we have become rather boring people in the last two weeks.  We were both struck with some sort of weird virus that made our stomachs twist in knots, gave us low-grade fevers and made us generally exhausted, even with a 9:30 bedtime.  So there went a week of total lameness.

Then, we were forced to stay in town and miss cyclocross racing due to Ski Patrol training.  In essence, it wasn't a bummer because we both love Ski Patrol.  And, as a bonus, Marissa and Nate came to town for the weekend to watch Hazel.  Whenever they come, it's like they host US, instead of the other way around.  Marissa cooks amazing food, Nate looks for home improvement projects and Barkernews and I just do the dishes.  Have I mentioned that THEY ARE RAD??

Now here I am in to our second week of boringness with nothing to report.  I am growing antsier by the day to go somewhere and do something exciting.  I think The Hizz feels the same way.  She told me as much when I put her to bed tonight.

I hate to let Hazel down, so she and I and Heather are headed to Astoria this weekend for a double header of Halloween cyclocross racing.  The only bummer is that we have to leave Barkernews at home. (BOO!)  He's on call and it may look kind of bad if it takes him two hours to show up at a house fire.  Ky generously volunteered to watch Hazel during my races, Heather was willing to drive AND stay with a 15-month-old (I think she is on drugs) and we found a cheap motel which hopefully does not rent by the hour.

I also have a costume for the first time in many, many years.  Halloween is really not my kind of thing (apparently, The Hizz is not so in to it either), but I decided to stop being so bah humbug about the whole thing.   I won't tell you yet what or who I will be, but trust me, it isn't that awesome.  It is, however, awesome enough to race in.  I think that's all that matters.

Without further ado, I am going back to my boringness.  Bed time calls.

Oh yeah, and here are some pics from our hike to McChord Creek Falls and Elowah Falls with Marissa and Nate.  I guess we haven't been boring 24/7.  More like 23/6.

Our first family picture in a while.  Too bad it's so blurry.  Oh well, The Hizz looks good!

The Hizz is very close to walking.  She can, in fact, take 4-5 steps on her own.  However, she refuses go any further until she nails those steps perfectly.  Stubborn, she is.

Getting up there

We weren't technically supposed to race this weekend.  But our camping/climbing partners canceled, I had a baby shower to attend and, oh yeah, it POURED.  Therefore, climbing probably wasn't too possible anyway.

So go to the races we did.  And it was good.  The sun even shone upon us.  I mean, really, what more is there to want?

The report is this:  Barkernews started at the back due to an unlucky number.  Cross racing is very much about getting to the front as soon as humanly possible since there are so many bodies on the course at once (as in, 180-ish.) and you don't want to spend your whole race trying to get around people.  Alas, he did just that and finished in the top 50%, so he passed a good many guys and had a great race on a very tough course.

I, on the other hand, had a call-up.  Having never raced cyclocross before, this whole call-up thing is a little foreign to me.  If you have ever placed in a series race in the top 20, you get a call-up.  This means the announcer calls you up to start at the front.  And if your spouse saying "good job" isn't a big enough self-esteem booster for you, then call-up will cause you to cancel your Prozac prescription.  As someone who has been racing road bikes for 4 or so years and on a very very very good day, MAYBE places in the middle, hearing my name, albeit briefly, over the intercom is the justification for suffering in 30+ road races this year.  I realize that road and cyclocross racing are not really related, but just let me have this one thing, okay?

I have a habit of shooting off the front as quickly as I can from the get-go and today was no exception.  I just KNOW that 80 other women are on my tail and I have to work like hell to keep them away.  Also, I am really not that fast.  I just try to pass the slow women from other categories who started 1 minute before me and then let them slow down the women in my category behind me.

So there you have.  That's my whole strategy.  That, and ride really fast up hills.  That strategy apparently works well too.

How do I know?  I, um, placed 6th in a field of I don't know... many, many women (maybe 80?). This was after a Wednesday night race where I placed 3rd.

Things are not going according to plan.

This being my first season of cross, I expected it to go much like my road races do- SLOW.  This was completely unexpected.  After placing 15th in a field of 92 two weeks ago and 13th in a field of 62 last week, I'll admit that my goal was to place top 10 today.  But deep down, I kind of doubted it could happen.

Crap, it did.  On a very bumpy, very hilly course, I gave it everything I had and holy shit, did I have fun.  The 6th place was kind of a bonus.

But, WOW, do I really want to place top 5 now.  This stuff is addictive.

Barkernews shows his game face.

Getting out in front as soon as possible, as quickly as possible.

My "GRRRRRR" face or my "I'm in so much pain, I want to die" face.  Take your pick.

Replacement Therapy

It was a strange weekend for making plans. On one hand, it was a three day weekend for me, meaning the possibilities were endless. On the other hand, it was the weekend of the Mt. Hood Ski Patrol Snosports Swap, our one fundraising event for the ski patrol for the year. I scheduled myself to work on Friday and Barkernews scheduled himself to work that night. So, that reduced our weekend to...36 hours?

Thirty-six hours means NO CLIMBING. I love Portland and all, but for crying out loud, the proximity to good climbing really sucks. The proximity issue becomes imminently more frustrating when you have a toddler and you end up driving for three hours to climb 2 good routes in the waning daylight.

Not that I'm complaining because I don't want to be one of those people who tells you how lame their life became when they had a kid. No, I am more likely justifying to myself why I didn't just say, "screw it" and hop in the car for the three hour trip to two good routes anyway, because sometimes two good routes is all you need to get your climbing fix.

Regardless, my life is far from lame. In fact, it's damn good. I have Barkernews and I have The Hizz and I have endless adventures out my front door, even if they don't involve rock climbing. I was jonesing to not spend the weekend at home, so we headed to Ft. Stevens State Park on the coast. Barkernews and I are nerds so we thought it was the coolest thing since the invention of sliced bread. Ft. Stevens was a military fort in the CIVIL WAR. I know, right? Who knew people in the Oregon Territory at the time had even heard of the Civil War (mail service being what it was)? It was originally built to protect the coast from the Confederates, which is kind of funny if you really think about it. The amount of time to get from the south to the Pacific Coast was, uh, LONG. Did you also know that the military put mines in the Columbia River during WWII to detract Japanese submarines? I know, I know. This is COOL SHIT.

Ft. Stevens is also located at the confluence of the Columbia River and the Pacific Ocean and the beach there is now one of my favorites. It's long and flat and perfect for hanging out. The camping at the state park leaves a little to be desired considering how they pack people in there, but it did have electricity. Do you have any idea what this means for Der Kaiserhutte? It means we had HEAT. OVERNIGHT. We usually use a propane heater since under normal circumstances, we are camping in places without any amenities and if you know anything about propane, you know that leaving it on overnight is not recommended. So we got ourselves an electric heater and man, oh man, the LUXURY. My nose did not freeze off of my face and this is a huge improvement. It was like staying in a 4-star trailer.





The next day brought 32 degree temps (how would I have known? I was sleeping in glorious heat.) and the Cross Crusade in Rainier, OR. People tell me that cyclocross is supposed to be muddy and wet and messy, but after 6 races so far this season, I am starting to wonder. Every race thus far has been dusty and dry, and honestly? I have loved them all.

And while I didn't know it on Sunday, and probably not even on Monday, I loved this course. Steep hills are a petite girl's friend and while masses of beginner women wove their bikes dangerously and even walked up the hellishly steep gravel hill, I set my line and calmly pedaled past them. Had those women suffered with me at the Sublime Subilimity Road Race, they would have scoffed at such a hill. 45 minutes of suffering, with a few hills thrown in? BRING IT.

That's where I did well: riding up the steep hill and running past everyone on the runup. My technical skills however? Still somewhat lacking. But that's cool. I left my lungs on the course, which is an indicator of success in my book. I also improved my placing, from 15th last week to 13th this week, but there were 62 women in my group instead of the 92 the previous week. Not sure if that means I got better or worse? Never mind, don't answer that.



It was a near-perfect weekend, capped off with a date (with Barkernews of course) to the Powderwhore telemark ski movie. During the hour-long movie, I promptly forgot about bikes and started thinking about ski season and drooling. And drooling some more. I'll be back on the bike this week for the last Blind Date at the Dairy, but I see a lot of skiing in my immediate future. And it's only an hour away.