The Holistic Captain

After months of severe back pain that pretty much crapped over my racing season, I finally have started to feel better. I'm way to young at 31 to have this much back pain, so after countless dollars in Chiropractors & doctors, the only real conclusion is that I have a muscle imbalance that leads to some asymmetry that makes certain muscles work harder than the others to stabilize myself, especially on the bike.

The most marked improvement came from moving my position on the bike so my saddle is more aft & more of my ever growing weight (damn beers) is supported by my legs & pelvis on the saddle & less on my arms & lower back. An added bonus is that it looks more PRO to have your seat slammed back, hell they ride thousands of miles, so I'm sure their back knows whats up.

So fast forward to yesterday. I finally stopped talking about going & actually went to Yoga at the Weight Club. After 1.5 hours of in the gym doing some leg work, triceps extensions, & riding the bike I felt ready to see what all the yoga fuss is about. Luckily, I would not lose my yoga cherry alone. Local cycling hot shot, Mr. Johnny D., met me as he is a former yoga disciple. Also present was a super fast old guy, Steve from Just the Right Gear who has been telling me to go to yoga since my back problems arose. Yeah yeah I should have listened. So I grab a mat, lose the shoes, and get ready for God knows what.

First thing I notice is the mix of the class, a fair amount of dudes & ladies. That's good I think. Equal mix. As we progress into some positions that I knew & some I didn't it became clear that there was also a mix of abilities in class. Fortunately I would not be the only oddball to not be able to hold some positions.

The music is peaceful & relaxing, and after getting over all the nice ladies present I set into the rhythm on the music & positions. What I did not expect was to work up a sweat. Not just a light, "well I am exercising" sweat, but a "holy shit, I have sweat dripping off my face" sweat. I think it must be the thermostat jacked up, so I look over at the wall, 69 degrees. Ha, 69, when is that position coming? I get my mind back out of the gutter & progress to more intense positions, sweat dripping, muscles aching, damn this shit is hard! Then we flow into a routine where I learned how important your breathing is. Controlling your breathing truly helps in your balance, so not only are you working your muscles but your lungs, your heart rate, etc. I had no idea I would get beat down by yoga.

Then we move into this:

No freaking way!!! But with focused mind, controlled breaths, and a tightly clinched sphincter (memo to self, no more damn rice & beans before yoga), the Capt gives it his best. And a 1, fail. And a 2, fail. And a 3, holy crap I'm flying! The Capt is airborne. Once perched high in the sky like a great retarded bird, I calm my breaths & focus & miraculously I hold my recently beer engorged butt skyward, somewhat like sticking my ass out to gravity saying, the Capt is a stronger force than you gravitational constant = 6.67300 × 10-11 m3 kg-1 s-2.

By now the pace has slowed, the tantric music is still pumping & I just had a nocturnal emission in daylight. The lights dim, & we relax, focusing on nothing. And it was in this nothingness that I actually felt 2 minutes of inner peace. I was taken back to memories of sailing over a beautiful island surrounded by the bluest of blue water, my body like a leaf in the warm breeze blowing helpless to the light windy current.

The lights go on, and our session is over. I felt more balanced, not only physically but mentally (which if you know the Capt. is not easy to do). I smile a goodbye at the cute girl next to me & leave satisfied knowing that while I did wait too long to start this, there is no time like the present to enjoy a new found challenge.

No Frostburg Adventure, poop

Unfortunately the trip to Frostburg to visit Chili had to be postponed when I got a call that Momma was in the Hospital. Turned out to be nothing serious but it was enough to have to hang onto the J-Dog for the weekend since she would not be able to doggy-sit. So I did the only thing I could do, ride the bike & relax.

Friday was a nice ride down to the New River with Matt "Pork n' Beans" after having not been on the road bike in over 2 weeks. Man that felt awkward. The legs were dead & climbing back into town hurt like hell. Then I had to see the horrible scene of Matt running over a squirrel. I guess the rodent deserved it cause if you are dumb enough to run into a bike going 15mph, Natural Selection rules. Serves that squirrel right for being a drunk.


Saturday was another day on the road bike & along with the changing leaves, Autumn brought out the Dicklips. Afterwards, I felt like total trash, must have been something I ate.

Sunday I broke out the Mountain Bike for a 15 mile ride at Poverty Creek . After climbing Horse Nettle I descended the awesome trail "Beauty" which is a trail not even shown on the map, ahhh local knowledge goodness. Then climbed back up Horse Nettle & descended Snake Root. It was a beautiful day & on the way out I ran into John the Hippie on his new 29er.... which got me thinking, hmmm 29er's sure look nice. So Sunday bored on the coach, well this is what happened:


So now I wait for Brown Santa to bring me my new toy, oh joy!

Tour de Lilly Mtn Bike Ride; Davis, WV

October finally arrived & the first weekend getaway at Davis, WV was upon me & the J-dog. Thursday late evening we rolled into our favorite Campsite #6 along Camp 70 Road in Davis, WV. After quickly setting up camp, I made my way into town to watch the Vice Presidential debate & eat a burrito at Hellbender's. Surprising, or maybe not, was the amount of Obama supporter's in the little town of Davis. Not surprising when you consider that Davis is the "Highest Incorporated Town in WV". They are the highest in elevation, but I am guessing that they are just plain "highest".

Friday morning I wake up not feeling so swift. A couple stops at the "can" & I think the meat plug has cleared out of me. I dress up in my gay biking clothes & hit the trails at the Canaan Valley Institute property. The leaves are starting to change color & some are even dropping on the trail, making the rocky, rooty trails of the area that much more challenging. "Rock Garden" "Roots" and "Bogs" pretty much sum up the riding characteristics of the local trails.

Can you find the correct line through this rock garden? I just created my own!There is not much smooth here, not for the faint of heart, or weak of bowels as I was. After "cleaning" Moonrocks, and being amazed that I can visualize the line down the rock face, I head back to camp for a nice meal of steak on the fire, mashed potatos, shrimp, bacon wrapped jalapeno's stuffed with blue cheese (thanks Jason for that), followed by a light dessert of Bratwurst, slim jims, and Lord knows how many Belgian Ales I bought on the cheap from the Vintage Cellar . That night I crawl into the tent to 36 degree F temperature. Long story short, it was freaking cold. The J-dog was shivering so I had him crawl up next to me on the air mattress & I pulled an extra down blanket I brought over both our heads. We finally got it warm enough to sleep, and we crashed until 8:00a.m. the next morning.
The Tour de Lilly began sometime around 10:00a.m. leaving from a super cool bike shop, Black Water Bikes . I picked up my sweet free t-shirt, "It goes to 11!" and met some of my friends who were also in town for the ride. We head out with this loop as the Tour de Lilly 2008:

STP trail - ATV connector trail- Son of Plantation -Plantation -Pipeline- Canann Loop Rd- Pointy Knob (fucking understatement of the century) - Canaan Loop Rd- Railroad Grade- Plantation - Davis Trail - Yellow birch -STP trail - back to town, whew!!! In all that was 22 miles of rocks, roots, mud, bogs, stick in derailleurs, broken rear triangles, bloody elbows, sticks stabbing your legs, people landing on their backs on rocks (let me know if you need a massage for that Sonja). But through the pain, mostly from swamp ass, we endured. I have to thank "Oldnoob" Todd for giving me the best words of wisdom that day. At the halfway point there was a bailout option & people were saying "fuck this, we're going back to town". I ask Oldnoob, "do you plan on doing the whole ride." And the big smile on his face & simple "oh hell yeah" answer was all the motivation I needed to man up. The 2nd half of the ride is were I finally got my legs & I felt 100 times better than the first half. Total ride time of 3.5 hours for 22 miles in Canaan isn't so bad when it was always meant as a fun ride. And that it was, even for a shivering J-Dog!! Next up is a visit to Frostburg, MD to see my old pal Chili. I think we'll be riding there, probably more barstool than bike, but either way it has to be easier on the butt than those WV rocks! A huge thanks to Danny from MD for finding my GPS when it ejected somewhere along Plantation trail on, I'll just go on a limb & guess when I hit a rock. Also thanks to Dwayne & Scotty for stopping by Sunday to BS in the morning.

Wake Me Up in October

The weather is finally cooling off in Blacksburg, VA & with it comes the excitement of some fall time mountain biking. My calendar for October & starting on to November is beginning to look like a married man's dream of freedom. Luckily, I'm still a bachelor with all the freedom to travel, bike, & booze at my leisure.

The places my freedom will take me in the coming months are:

Davis, WV for the Tour de Lilly










Frostburg, MD to visit Chili & ride & drink a beer or 50












A mini Slatyfork, WV shuffle









Douthat State Park, VA







The fall always puts a spell on me. I makes me reflect on the past year of riding, travelling, meeting old friends & making new ones. I think the fall, more than any other time, is when my olfactory senses are so in tune with being in the beautiful outdoors. Campfires, changing leaves, breakfast bacon, honeysuckle, the list could go on for pages about why this is my favorite time of the year.

So get here quick October, and make sure you bring your good friend October-Fest with you!

Sunday Morning "Dicklips" Ride

Long time, no blog. The main reason is I've been on a two week bender of boozing mixed in with some sparse mountain biking. Good times for sure, and many a drunken night stumbling back to get on the bus. (Momma would be proud, no DWI's for me thank you).

So I decide its time to get on the road bike again for the fun of it. Saturday was a hot & humid day here in southwest Virginia but a great ride was had nonetheless.
Feeling good to be back in the saddle I decide, though not in my best interest, to show up to what is now the "sunday morning dicklips ride". Why is it such you may ponder? Simple, there are more dicklips on this ride per capita than on other days.

Don't bother to google dicklips cause you won't find anything resembling said dicklips. Most likely, you'll get something that looks like this in google images:


So, the sunday dicklips are the homers that don't ride on saturday for a variety of lame-dick reasons like family affairs, saturday church, football, or simply being to lazy to ride on saturday.
Traditionally sunday rides are to be an easier recovery pace to either:
a. Recover from a hard days training ride on saturday
b. Recover from a hard nights drinking binge
c. Ride the bike to socialize with friends
d. Recover from a hard day & night's drinking binge
e. All of the above

Alas, the dicklips need to come out & ride some fred-ass custom steel or titanium bike that they had to take a second mortgage on. Sure fire sign of dicklip-ness.
So please dicklips, please ride your bikes on saturday or chill out on sunday before you find yourself being elbowed into the roadside ditch by a fat, hungover, pissed off to be woke up this early on a sunday, mountainbiker.

Why ride a mountain bike?

I had to explain to my roadie friends why I talk about the pleasures of mountain biking so much. So in order to convey the message to all, there is no better way to melt off the stress than to hit the woods.

I'm riding to enjoy riding. All the road competition does is take away the joy of riding a bike. I do not have lofty goals of dominating any races, training threshold, or such, I like to ride simply to ride. See some bear, turkeys, birds in the woods & enjoy it for what it is.




I think that is a major reason why the road is getting to me. Way too much Type A shit going on, & it is burning me out.

You really need to experience camping & mountain biking. It is very soothing with the right group of people. You wake up whenever, make a big greasy breakfast. Tell stories about who was drunk & puked the night before. Get your gear on & then ride at whatever pace you feel like for 2-6 hours. Get back to the camp, crack open a beer, jump in the creek to wash-up, put on warm clothes, eat dinner, make a campfire, & then drink beer all night long till you pass out by the warmth of the fire.

Wake up the next morning & repeat.



What could be more relaxing than that?

I Can Ride My Bike With No Handlebars...

Summer Olympics.
Invasion of Georgia.
A Marine Stands Trial in a Civilian Court for doing what he is trained to do.
President of Pakistan steps down.
US American Election mudslinging.
Bigfoot is a hoax.
The everyday deaths in Iraq, all based on false pretenses.

At least I can ride my bike with no handlebars. Fitting in days like these.

T minus 6 days to Burkes Garden

Less than 6 days to the 100 mile ride hammerfest that is Burkes Garden Century. Every year the goal is to complete the 100 mile ride in under 4 hours, for a leg burning, eye vomitting pace of 25mph, for 100 freaking miles.

So I spent this past weekend training real hard for the upcoming ride. My friend came to visit & we drank lots of beer, tubed down the river while drinking more beer, and slept a lot. Plus she introduced me to the melodic sounds of "Dirt Nasty"

Monkey-Stompin the Cat 2 Wanna-be

Wow, what a fun Wednesday Worlds race ride. I laid my plan down & it worked out ok. 5th on the way out, 2nd at the mid-line sprint, and I still monkey-stomped Tim "Cockstainski" at the top of Harding on his feeble attempt at a sprint. The last two occurred after avoiding a nice one rider crash at close to 28mph in the rain soaked roads. Take note Matt P., Harne, & Cora, that's how you keep a bike upright, even in the rain. I'll give lessons at $85 an hour. Better yet, get a mountain bike & I'll teach you for free.

Ok that's enough talk. I don't want to be know as Cockstainski and talk the talk but not walk the walk.

Tim, here's my monkey-stomper for you. Better put that downgrade request in for Cat 4.

Tim C. & All the Trash Talk

So lately in the Burg there has been way too much trash talk going down on the weekly rides.

"I'm going to be a Cat 2 before you,"

"You're bike is dirty like your momma, better clean it,"

"I dominate the local roads, oh never mind what happened in Belgium"

Etc.Etc Etc.

Well finally it has been resolved why there is so much hostility on the rides. No, its not your typical testosterone or male Roadie ego. Oh no, it goes deeper than that. It goes right to the heart of male insecurity. What we have here is a local racers taped confession of why he feels he needs to be a Cat 2.

The Capt Returns

After a long haitus, I've found out how to activate my old blog. This is really inspired by my trip to Belgium & all the happenings there I wish I could have recorded when they were fresh in my mind & I was still drunk from the 10% beer. Now its back to "Am-urica", work, and crappy lager beer. C'est la vie!

Cold beer after a long ride 

Redrun Trail, WV 

Stuck between a Redneck and Goomba…

Quite a tight situation to be in for sure. It seems in my journey down the single-track of life that compromise must be the most efficient gear. There is no Zen trail through life. Every direction I turn is a constant 11% grade switchback, turning left constantly up the side up an immeasurable climb. With every pedal stroke that is the morning alarm of repetitiveness, the top of the climb is further and further.

So I find myself stuck between a Redneck and a Goomba. I left the “How you doin’?” scene of NJ and rolled on down to the sunny South. I traded colloquialisms for “howdy y’all”. It seems a damn Yankee just can’t catch a break. I mean cows are beautiful but you can only converse with them for so long before you begin questioning you sanity. If it wasn’t a Bergen County soccer mom in her Mercedes SUV talking on her cell phone running me off the road, it’s southern Jim Joe Bob in his 4 ton pick-um up truck complete with his “Heritage, not Hate” confederate flag bumper sticker. Heritage not hate, yeah I’m buying that bubba.

I miss the simple times of a good ride with better beer, yum Hit By a Mac Truck Ale, and best friends. Loud obnoxious NJ people, they are “F’n funny yo”. I feel the bible belt tightening around me and I need some Dirty Jerzey heathenism to make me appreciate being a sinner. Tell me a story about Donkey Punchin’ or Rusty Trombones. Something cause I’ve grown to accept that Jesus don’t love me, I’m from the North. So when do we crest the climb and begin the long downhill and sweeping, high banked turns? My brain suspension is bottoming out, and my lycra is full of Goo.