RAAM 2009

Check out the main blog for team updates and don't be shy about sending us personal messages of support to my e-mail address...tim@timcase.net.

See you in Annapolis!

11th Hour

'Twas the night before RAAM and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, except for Andy Claflin.

Not sure where I got the reputation as the "enforcer" on Team Strong Heart, but I'll happily oblige. I'm having a very easy time these days getting ready for RAAM. No, I'm not bragging, it just seems like the miles have come on fairly easy, with a fairly low level of stress. I think I'm in the mode, from about now until June 20, where my energy and attention begins to focus, forming around the task at hand.

Last year at this time I was racing my bike across the country solo and my biggest concern was figuring out how I lost so much damned weight in the first 50 miles of the race (5 pounds) and how in the heck I got to Flagstaff, Arizona on a bicycle. This year won't be much different, although I'm hoping and praying that my ugly, festering friends (saddle sores, not you Andy), don't make a repeat appearance on my firm, white behind.

What a difference a year makes. Yeah, I'm psyched to be racing across the country again with Team Strong Heart. We have assembled, yet again(!), an amazing group of racers, crew and supporters, who have answered the call and have committed to what could quite possibly be the most insane and incredible sporting event ever devised. Cruel and inhumane were frequented words last year. This year it's all about the speed, the comradery and the sheer force of will that will power all of us from sea to shining sea. But I digress.

As each of us narrows out the last few days before jumping into the RAAM pressure cooker, take some time to get out and enjoy a ride before you enjoy riding at 3am in the mountains (yes they are mountains!) of Virginia, or enjoy speeding west to east through Kansas (a very large state indeed).

The Race Across America is an odyssey and adventure with no peer. It is unique, challenging and exposes pretenders from the very outset.

At the 11th hour take heed of what we are about the engage in and understand that the person you know leaving for Oceanside, or leaving from Oceanside, will NOT be the person you find in Annapolis, or back in CO or MN.

See you at the start line.

TC

Places In Between

When I was young, the worst part of Christmastime was that dang piece right before the 25th, where the church-going had been churched the goose had been cooked and all we had to do was just sit around, get a full night's sleep and then see what Santa brought us in the morning.

In a little over two weeks we, Team Strong Heart, are headed out to California to begin another edition of the Race Across America, and yes, this is my new version of Christmas.

The challenge now, as the time winds down is, how much training do we do, do I have everything I need, where is that damn chamois cream from last year, etc. All the pieces have fallen into place in the past, but every year the stress level begins to build and the head starts to feel as though it will crack open and spill the contents.

If you, or someone you love, is about to embark on this journey, then I implore you to please have patience. We, the racers of RAAM, are a unique breed and our uniqueness will start to shine through as we get closer to the race. The sort of person who would agree to race his or her bicycle across the country is not the same workaday sort who you usually encounter on the street. The person who would agree to crew for that sort of person, well, that's just sick and wrong. So...what I'm asking for is a little peace, love and understanding from everyone out there who is rolling with a RAAM racer, organizer or crew member.

We are about to embark on an absolute odyssey of the mind and body. I can guarantee that the loved one you wave goodbye to in Oceanside is not the same loved one you will get back in Annapolis. Something ever so slightly changes when you are "forced" onto your bike at 3am in the middle of Missouri and that change is powerful to the person who experiences it first hand. The meaning of hard work, sacrifice, misery, teamwork, etc., all get mashed and rearranged along the RAAM route.

The places in between are where our integrity (and crazy, super fast, killer speed) shines through.

See you in Oceanside.

TC

Waking the Giant

I don't have much to say, but wanted to move on from my last morose posting. The ups and downs of life have been weaving through many of our lives on Team Strong Heart. This is a very "testy" time of year for we who attack the RAAM-beast, whether it be the relay or solo beasty.

We're looking for crew, buttoning up the travel logistics and mostly trying to stay sane with approximately 6 weeks to the start of the biggest, baddest race of them all.

In Colorado we're trying desperately to get the race season started, what with the snow, rain, etc. that seems to descend on our region every weekend. I'm pretty much a lump right now. A fit lump to be sure, but it's hard for me to get really excited what with the clouds (physical and mental) that seem to move into my region every now and again.

I suppose the quiet moments provide the hardest truthes and lately the silence seems to be telling me that the hardest tasks, the dearest efforts and the greatest results all start with the same first step towards the finish.

Time to harden up and get a move on.

Keep the rubber side down.

TC

A few words

Yesterday one of my co-workers from Boulder Fire Rescue lost his only two daughters in a car crash near their home.  Heading into yesterday I was totally wiped from riding much, maybe too much, reeling from that and really just kind of feeling crappy and tired.  I pulled up to Station One on my bike ride home to say hello and found out what had happened that morning.  He found out while working, getting the call from his wife who told him to come to the hospital.  It was bad.  

Haven't been sleeping much or well lately, stressed about RAAM and other random stuff that comes and goes but mostly comes on strong overnight when things get lonely, regardless of where you are or who you're with.  Last night was a tough night.  I have absolutely no idea what it's like to lose both of your daughters in an instant, the one basically dying on scene and the other waiting to have her organs donated.   

I got called into work this morning and felt like that was where I needed to be.  Figured I maybe got a couple hours of sleep last night, but still felt like I needed to come in and commune with the guys I spend a good portion of my life with.  

Riding home from Station One didn't hurt as bad yesterday and really we shouldn't complain. Life is stressful.  RAAM is inherently stressful and tests our mettle well before we turn over the first pedal stroke, enroute to Annapolis.  It's odd, but I'd give up every single night of sleep for the rest of my life if my co-worker and his family could have their daughters back for one more hour.

It just ain't as tough as it could be.  

Specialized

Not much to write about at the moment. Watched the Paris Roubaix last night and was reminded that there are some major bad asses in European cycling. I guess we can all sort of get to that bad ass status in some manner, whether it's killing it on a group ride with friends, attacking the last hill at the business park criterium, whatever it is.

That's one of the great things about cycling. How many people watch NASCAR and then go out and race their family sedan at Daytona? Oh yeah, instead they drive like morons locally. I call those people my meal ticket, if you know what I mean. We, the cyclists, can go out, buy the bike that Lance races on (if you'd like to take out a second mortgage), get out on the road and imagine ourselves crushing the slopes of Hautacam or Alpe d'Huez, etc.

I don't dream in terms of climbing a switchback, I dream of wind, wet and cold cobblestones. I dream of windswept farm roads on a bleak day in northern Belgium (or Minnesota). And so, that is generally what I train for. Last weekend I rolled out with some friends for a tough, tough group ride filled with climbing and cold and rain and snow and wind. Those guys were climbing like mountain goats and I was struggling to maintain contact at all points, except on the way back when we hit a wall of wind and cold and rolling terrain. I even remarked to one of my miniature climbing friends that we had finally hit the part of the ride that I could enjoy, after 4 hours and into a nasty head/crosswind.

Lance famously said it's not about the bike and I say it's all about preference. Call me the "rolleur" of the group, the guy that gets up front and drags you home after many hours of hard riding. I'll never be pulling away on a climb (unless you let me ;)), but I'll certainly pay you back for dragging my ass up and over mountain passes by letting you get a sweet draft when the cards are down.

Last night I watched the hard men of the peloton enact their version of the "passion play," with their entire body quaking over the cobbles, but making it look oh so easy. Overnight I drempt I was bloody and battered and dusty, with grit and grime wedged in my teeth and ears, pounding out mile after mile of pave and when I leave work Thursday morning I'll jump on my bike and continue the dream.

Cruelty, Thy Name Is...

The WEATHER is actually the cruel and unusual punisher this time of year out in Colorado. Boo hoo...we actually haven't had much of a winter and I've definitely been sporting a cycling tan since late February, so the past week or so has really thrown me, and much of Colorado for a loop. Between work and the weather I really haven't ridden much outdoors for a week, or so. The race last weekend was cancelled and this weekend ain't really looking much more promising (it's raining as I type). Yep, I said ain't.

So we all have choices. Not feeling 100%? Lots of work, not enough time? Weather got you down? HTFU. E-mail me for the acronym. Really, it's "easy" being an athlete when the weather's great, the wind is at your back and work is smooth sailing. I can count on maybe one hand those sorts of moments, in the past year, where I was dead-on, fully rested and kicking butt out on the road. Those sorts of moments are pure gold, but let's face it, how often do we find ourselves in that exact situation? We have progressive overload, periodization, etc., etc., all designed to get us to the start line of that "A" race fully charged and ready to go. But really, how often does that happen.

I know since moving out to Colorado from the crap weather capital of the U.S., Minnesota, that I've grown soft and accustomed to the March tan lines, but frankly, it is damn windy out here, like so windy that it might as well be 10 degrees outside, like if I open my mouth into the wind I look like that test subject from the Air Force gyrotron with my cheeks splayed against my ears. Like that kind of wind.

Blah, blah, blah. The true test of an athlete, in my little world, is what she or he does when no one is looking. How do you handle yourself when weather or work or family throws its worst at you? Yeah, I haven't ridden outdoors this week, except for a failed mountain bike ride a few days ago, but I'll have you know that since last Saturday, I've put in 12 hours on my bike, been to the gym 4 times and have posted about 20 hours of workout time in less than a week. What have you been doing? That isn't a brag or a challenge, because honestly, if you aren't on my team, I could care less what you're up to, but just understand that when you're watching the boob tube or getting shammered at a bar, chances are I and my team are on the bike, training or sleeping so we can get up and do it all over the next day.

We all have choices to make and weather this time of year sucks in many parts of the country. I read Jure Robic and others postings on various social networking sites like Facebook, Twitter, etc. Those guys are pounding hard, day in and day out, following the righteous path of the endurance athlete who's answered the call, does what nobody else is willing to do and shows up on race day ready to kick butt.

So there...

Keep the rubber side down.

Tim

Back to It.

Well...back to racing, beginning this Sunday we tackle the fabled and feisty Koppenburg course out in Superior, CO. Think an hour to an hour and a half of your worst nightmare...fast, fast descending, a massive, broiling peloton, dirt and gravel roads, and the Koppenburg climb...gnarled, rutted dirt and body strewn chaos. Really, it's just like that.

Anyway, I'm stressing about racing on Sunday...sure I'll do okay, even if that means last place, though I doubt I'll end up carrying the lantern rouge. We of Team Strong Heart and we, as cyclists, are a passionate group. Yes, we have the fire that drives us to spend much, much time on our bikes, at the gym, on the roads, away from home, across the country, etc. But there's so much more.

My orthodoxy is my training. My practice and my celebration is the race shared, won and lost with comrades. Our battles are fought in office parks, on city streets, on Route 66, across Kansas and 13 other states, on the trails, in the morning when our closest are still sleeping, done before most people even get to their second cup of crappy drip coffee. I've crossed many finish lines in life, actual and metaphorical. Racing has brought me there and maybe it has (or will) bring you.

Cycling and racing for the past decade has drawn amazing perspective in my life. I've seen some wonderful and terrible things racing my bike and riding with friends. We've even lost a few of our closest friends to the sport, gone away doing just what they wanted. I pray I'm that lucky. I was reminded just yesterday that even a bike brand can be painfully and wonderfully associated with those who've come...and gone. Thinking of you and your Bianchi Greg.

We are tied to this sport, irrevocably so in my case, because many of us know that the true finish line is always just ahead, sometimes out of reach and sometimes right in the palm of our hands. I get out there and beat myself up every single day for the kids at Camp Odayin, for my own health, for my loved ones (new and old) and for all of you who care enough to read this silly blog. I've fought and won, but lost more times than won. And that's made all the difference in my itty-bitty world.

See you at the start line and always, keep the rubber side down.

Tim

Moab, 2009

A couple of my old teammates from Horizon Organic, John Shippey and Brandon Eifrid, invited me out to Moab last week for some hard training, desert style.

When I was riding through Utah last year during my solo RAAM bid, I remember telling my crew chief that there was "no way in hell" that he would ever find me on my bike again in Utah.

Well...how soon we forget our promises.

I'm a river guy, not a desert guy. I prefer the lush, almost squishy roads of northern California to the barren wasteland that is the American West desert. Think banana slugs, Stanford University and the Haight Ashbury district of San Fran. That's where it's at, at least for training camp.

Moab is a different place of sorts, the Mecca of mountain biking. The riding out there, on the road at least, is very dry, very hilly and pretty challenging. We set out to ride each day we were out there and it was a definite drag to get on the bike after 6 hours of prep and driving out from Denver.

Day one held an easy spin, but I knew immediately that the week would be a challenge, having just started to get better from a cold that was driven home by an earlier trip out to Vegas. Day two we hit the Lasal Mountain loop, which is a major pain in the ass. After the gradual 3-5% grade of the first ten miles, we a hit a section of road called "the big suck" or something like that. I had some other choice words for a 4000 foot climb that lasted around 5 miles or so. I'm sure my stats are a bit off, but let's just say that the climb was short, steep and I was cross-eyed much of the way. Up top the temps dropped quickly and we were faced with a cold, slushy and red mud filled descent into the canyon. Yikes. John hit a 2 mile stretch of snow and ice at full speed and nearly lost his life, if not his collarbone. I picked my way through that descent and we eventually made it home.

Other highlights included an "easy day" that featured a wicked headwind and a view of Arches National Park, steak the size of Texas a couple of nights, good beer, the Dave Chapelle Show on the tube and monster breakfasts of omelettes, more steak and some sweet oatmeal and grits. Did an awesome Canyonlands ride, Brandon got some mountain biking in with Alison Dunlap, Katie Compton, etc., and we all survived through the last day of TT'ing up and down Wall Street and Potash Road.

I've been back for a few days now and am absolutely psyched for the race season and RAAM to begin. John and I were driving back into Boulder after dropping Brandon off in bumble, I mean, Highlands Ranch, and we both agreed that no matter where we race or train, coming back to Boulder and Denver is always great, is our home no matter what team we race for and is a definitive privilege for us as cyclists.

Keep in touch, do great things and keep the rubber side down.

Tim

Welcome Back

Ahoy!

It's been a while since I've posted on this blog, which is really too bad. Much to talk about here...first of all, thanks to everyone for welcoming me back into the racing fray of Team Strong Heart.

Here I was thinking that I'd get to "sit back" and enjoy RAAM from the comfort of the chase vehicle, barking out orders to the crew, creating conflict where none previously existed, throwing my massive authority around our great country. Now, as it happens, I am going to have to do the same thing while also racing my bike with three other of the baddest and fastest brothers on two wheels (and yes Andy, that number includes you).

At any rate...I'm very happy to be back on the biking side of things.

Support Team Strong Heart. I can't say that enough, SUPPORT TEAM STRONG HEART. Camp Odayin is an amazing place. I know it. I've been there. The world that Odayin's staff and contributors (like yourself) have created for those deserving kids is wonderful and really brings home the idea that with enough support and encouragment, everyone can reach beyond their circumstances and become great. Chokes me up thinking about it.

I grew up with very severe asthma...the kind that kills. I was the kid in gym class who couldn't finish the run in gym class, couldn't be outside when the temps were high and I was definitely living in a bubble/humidity tent in the hospital when my young friends were out being young. I never had an adaptive camp experience like the kids at Camp Odayin get to have. My camp experiences pretty much sucked, except for the day when I was the fake drummer lip syncing "Hungry Like a Wolf" at the camp talent show. That day was great...the rest...not so great.

Look at the mission statement for Team Strong Heart. We are dedicated and passionate...bar none. We are building a legacy of hard work, determination and results...raising money for Camp Odayin while showcasing amazing talent on and off the bike. The Team Strong Heart that comes to you today for a donation or other sorts of assistance is made of world class people doing world class things for those who can't help themselves. Join us...

Stay tuned for a review of my recent visit to Moab, Utah for a cycling training camp and other random stuff from wild and wooley Boulder, Colorado.

Keep the rubber side down.

Tim

Halloween Head

Well, I've finally gotten over being sick and tired and have moved forward in my training. To what you might ask? Well, I've been asking myself this question often in the past couple of weeks. Without tipping my hat or showing my cards or any other cliche you'd maybe like to hear, I have some big "stuff" going on in my life.

All I can say at this moment is that I'm cross training, maintaining old fitness and building new fitness for some challenges that may be coming my way in the near future.

We all have opportunities to get better, or at least slow down. When we train for our weaknesses, we get better overall. This past season I focused on (besides getting across the country in one piece), interval training. With the help of Erik Kenney of EK Endurance Coaching, I was able to train my weakness and get faster. Who would have thought that I'd be able to complete the Race Across America solo and then come back and finish all races entered, including cyclocross and multiple crits and other events?

Life is good when you train your weakness. Trust me. So now I'm out there, in the gym, on the road, in the pool, whatever, training my weaknesses and getting ready to kick butt when the time comes.

Keep the rubber side down.

TC

Karmic Slap

I'm sick. I haven't been sick in over a year. Thinking that I was beginning to discover my new superhuman hero immune system that had lay dormant until it was realized post-Race Across America, I set out for a test.

I went to Vegas. Drank until I had to drink more to keep going, I stayed out until the not so wee hours of the morning, coming in for a brief rest when most are headed out to work. I ate crap and more crap and ate some more, just for good measure. I took a cab with my buddies to In- and-Out Burger and then came back to the hotel for a drink or eight. Red Bull gives you wings. Red Bull with top shelf vodka gives you loud, gregarious and mildly ridiculous wings. Wings that take you over and above and around until 5 or 6 in the morning.

I punished my body after coming back from Vegas. Wanted to teach a lesson to myself. I rode about 40 miles on my singlespeed road bike and then went to the gym to continue the lesson. I ran a 5k indoors and lifted and then swam 12 laps. It felt terrible and wonderful.

Then I went out the night before my latest shift, drank some more, got home much too late, slept for two hours and then went to work yesterday where we had what I would call a "mega fire," a fire that is big and punishing and smokey and dangerous. I was on the ladder truck doing "truckie" things, like the aptly named Vent Enter Search, which is basically an activity where you intentionally enter burning, smoke filled spaces, without a hoseline, looking for victims. I ascended high above the fire with my Captain so that we could get a good look at the fire and also to drop some water onto the top of the fire. Ever been up above a burning apartment complex at 70 feet with smoke and heat just an "armslength" away?

So today I'm sick. Apparently my superhuman abilities to refute sickness came at the hand of good living, enough rest, respect for my body and an understanding that when both ends of the candle are burning eventually the fire goes out.

Next time...more wax.

TC

What Happens In Vegas

So...I went to Las Vegas last week with some friends to pretty much undo the past ten years of bicycle training. Mission accomplished! A few more days of partying until dawn and I do believe that I would have died, with a smile on my face of course.

The first day out there we renamed Vegas "Awesome Town." If you've never been I suggest you get in your car right now and head over there. Okay, so it is a town of gluttony, debauchery and carousing, but that is what makes the place so special! I'll just leave it at that.

The last day I was out there (I stayed a day later than my friends to get a cheaper flight), I met up with Team Strong Heart coach Eric Kenney of EK Endurance Coaching. He had just completed what is termed the "world's toughest triathlon" out in Henderson, Nevada. Eric smoked the half triathlon, coming in 4th overall as an amateur out of something like 800 competitors, and I got to go to his awards ceremony the day I was traveling back to CO. The full version of the Silverman Triathlon features about 10k of climbing on the bike and super hilly terrain for the run. During the race the athletes were treated to a full compliment of weather from nature, including three foot swells out on Lake Mead during the swim. Competitive finishing times for the full version were around 13 hours. Yikes!

I'm debating about racing this weekend on my cx bike. My lungs still feel as if I was stuck in a coal mine out in Vegas (where everyone smokes) and I'm just not feeling combat effective quite yet. Back to the grindstone I go...

Keep the rubber side pointed towards the ground.

Tim

Vail Pass, Single Speed Style

Team Strong Heart racer Eric Begin and I set out to tackle Vail Pass a couple of days ago on our bicycles. We've been there many times before, climbing out of Frisco up to the pass, which sits at about 10,700 feet, down into the Vail valley and then back up over the pass and out (usually to Taco Bell).

I took my singlespeed road bike out for the ride. Yeah, that's right. One gear, one speed (slow) and luckily a freewheel for coasting down the back side of the pass (times two). It actually wasn't that bad. The weather was sunny but dang chilly. It's amazing how the weather out here in Colorado is so divergent. Down by Boulder it was in the 70's and fair. Up near Vail it was windy and chilly. Oh well...

Anyway, we had snow to contend with in the shade and actually ended up walking part of the route when the snow really got tough. Mind you, it was only a couple of inches of snow, but you know, road bikes and road shoes aren't really made for that sort of thing. There was more than a couple of times where a cyclocross bike would definitely have been handy.

Well, we made it and now I have a hair-brained scheme to take my singlespeed road bike up and over as many mountain passes as I can. Call it my version of the "classic" 14'er Colorado brag.

Keep the rubber side down...especially in the snow.

TC

Boulder Cup Weekend

Every year Boulder brings in the baddest local and national racers for a UCI Cyclocross extravaganza. Oh, and I also raced. The Boulder Cup draws thousands of spectators and some interesting Boulderites out of the woodwork. Just when I start getting sick of the "26 miles surrounded by reality," the Boulder Cup comes calling...

Yesterday's pain fest was held at the Boulder Reservoir. I'm not entirely sure what the deal was with the course designers, but they obviously had a "thing" for sand. The back half of the course was basically one big sand run, with a couple of barriers thrown in for good measure. I had a hard time getting a rhythm down, but ended up finishing 27th overall, which I guess is a-okay. To think I was racing RAAM four months ago.

Today's race was held at the Harlow Platts cyclocross course, set up against the flatirons. I was feeling pretty decent but couldn't uncork anything special during the race. For the uninitiated, it's amazing how hard a cyclocross race is right from the very beginning. If you don't hit it hard on the first lap, well, you might as well be resigned mid or latter pack riding. If you don't get the holeshot, you're "race" is done. The course was really fun and had it's own version of sand riding on the back half of the race. It was great to try and ride the sand parts of the course, though you were really screwed either way and got the life sucked out of you if you ran, or if you rode through. I did a little bit of both for good measure.

Just like any good cyclocross event, the race was only part of the fun. Mass quantities of PBR and Old Chubb turned an "ordinary" race into a wonder, and it was definitely great to catch up with some racing buddies, new and old. Guys dressed like bottles of Duff Beer, guys dressed like dolls and various stages of undress (see above) made this a great weekend of racing...

Tomorrow I'm heading up to Vail for some single-speed road riding. Stay tuned for that...

Keep the rubber side down...

Tim

Pics of My New/Old Singlespeed Road Bike

Jay T. inspired me with his Headwaters 100 singlespeed race to go out and get a lingering project bike of mine done. This is what happens when an old cross bike gets a new set of lungs...

RAAM Fall Festival

So I headed out to Terry Zrmal's house yesterday for the second annual RAAM Fall Festival. Terry is the Race Director for RAAM and the day was billed as a meet and greet for RAAM particpants and staff, past, present and future.

After fighting some crazy Boulder fall winds coming out of the west (think downhill riding at 10 mph), I made it to Terry's for the morning ride. It was a mixed group but everyone rode very strong as we hit a classic Boulder ride, the Fruit Loops... I was struggling from an interval workout the previous day but uncorked another hard ride, knowing that I'd get to "recover" today at work...

After the ride we ate BBQ (best part of the ride), caught up on things and traded stories about RAAM. David Jones, three time RAAM solo rider and great guy flew out to Colorado for the event and a few business meetings. It was interesting to hear his experiences and that of one of his crew people who was also in attendance for the party. I guess my crazy solo RAAM wasn't that unique after all...

Following the food we watched a rough cut of the RAAM DVD which will be out within a month, or so. The footage was spectacular, the commentary of the media crew was pretty funny and the whole movie was an engaging and moving recap of the 2008 Race Across America. That is my unbiased opinion...

It was encouraging to meet a couple of women from the Boulder based, Title 9 Cycling Team who are likely going to field a four woman team for 2009. I love sharing my experiences and limited understanding of the race with newbies and it was definitely cool to hear their questions and the blank look of disbelief as we told them about the race. The RAAM is definitely something to experience first hand. Seeing and feeling RAAM IS believing.

A couple of quirky things came out of the Fall Festival. I got an AMAZING workout/ride from a RAAM racer, Drew Clark who created what has to be one of the most insane rides I've ever heard about. I'll be posting the ride details in a few days, but the bottom line is that the ride covers about 100 miles, 14,000 feet of climbing and takes about 9 hours to complete. I'm looking to do the ride within the next couple of weeks. Stay tuned for that. Also, I heard a fairly credible rumor that Lance Armstrong is going to be racing his cyclocross bike in Boulder next weekend, during the big time UCI cyclocross event.

So...all-in-all the RAAM Fall Festival was a success and a solid day of riding and reflection.

Keep the rubber side down...

TC

Pics from First Cyclocross Race of Season

Who'd a thunk I'd be racing cyclocross this year???

So Long, Friend

I sold one of my road bikes today to make way for a new Bianchi over the new year.

I know it might sound cheesy, but when you ride as much as I do, every time you saddle up on your bike I imagine it feels similar to what a jet fighter pilot feels like as she or he gets into their favorite plane. Nice and smooth and familiar.

I took my road bike many places and had some interesting experiences. There was the first time I did well in a road race. Really well. I was shocked and confused by what was happening in the race, being in a breakaway wasn't a familiar experience at the time (and still escapes me most races, even now). I remember the time my bike and I, okay I, made the poor choice to "outrun" an approaching front and storm in Minnesota. The storm won the race and as the front crossed my path it literally picked my bike and I up off the ground and threw us into a ditch. That was crazy!

My bike carried me through my personal "slump" of 2004 and 2005 when life got in the way of my riding and put me down a path that eventually led to dear old Colorado. The bike became my refuge, my respite and now cycling has become more important than ever in my own definition of Tim.

The bike and all my other crap got packed up and we headed West, young man, to pursue that dream. As the statesman from New York, Al Smith Sr., wrote many years ago, "Walk into that Eternal sunshine."

That bike stayed put on the bike of our support vehicles for RAAM, two years in a row and was rarely called into service, but for a few miles in Kansas. Anyway, it was there and ready to go.

Life happens, people came and went and come and go, but that dear old friend, my red bike, stuck around for the ride.

Keep the rubber side down...

Tim

Evidence!

The preceding pictures prove and demonstrate why I will always be employed as a firefighter...it could happen in your own kitchen!

TC