Ice Box Newsline

“Epically chill,” were the words used by Matt Muraski to describe the Ice Box 240’s first annual mountain-bike relay.

A heightened sense of anticipation and unknowing filled the heavy air as riders arrived at the base of Mt. Whitetail. Race organizers later reported, “Gloom and doom weather forecasts spread paranoia into the hearts of the weak.” Total race census hit 36 chiseled legs, accounting for eighteen testosterone jacked riders.

Pre-race meeting was well organized as officials eloquently set strict expectations and highlighted trial conditions. Riders were treated to a wonderful rendition of our countries national anthem by local music phenom, Matthew Bach, on the alto recorder in key Bb.

Fast forward and enter chamois. An adrenaline pumping Le Mans start sent six brave souls into the dark and precarious forest of River Falls. The following teams entered three muddy rubbered warriors: Knight Riders, Thunder and Lightning, Midnight Thunder, The Pooppers, Toptube Steaks, and Pink Steel.

Mid-race terrors were brewing of a phantom menace roaming the woods of Mt. Whitetail. “These are but mere rumors,” said race director Ricky Bobby. “I know what I saw!” yelled one trembling man.

A scalp tingling pace kept teams neck and neck as the cold winds violently blew through the sounds of smack and House of Pain. Fortunately, the caveman, brought fire and fans to warm the spirits of racers hearts and thighs.

After three hours of racing, onlookers gasped as riders arrived within seconds of each other. One eyewitness exclaimed, “The guttural sounds of beaten warriors echoed through the fat tire playground!”

Respect.

ICEBOX 240

Interested Parties can crash at our pad in River Falls!

Rewind...

the tape a couple weeks to mid September. Fat Tire 40 time. Anticipation high. Expectations high. Roll out on main street seemed calmer than normal. The unmistakable hum of the tires reminds you of years past. The acceleration on to Hwy 77 reminds you of the two hour hurt locker you've just been slammed into.

Lost postions on the road. Feeling a bit off, but holding the eye of the tiger. Boxed in! Hit Rosie's top 30, maybe. Knew I had to move up fast. Burned some matches leap frogging groups. 10 sec off pace. Drill it. 15 sec off pace. Top 15 and climbing. Leading a four man charge for several miles. On the rivet, 20 sec down. It is now or never, pin it and chance, or conserve and go home with regret. Pin it!

60 sec off the pace at OO. The Billy Mills tank was low. Unfortunately, I was defeated. I rode the remainder of the race well below red line, disheartened by my tactical mistakes. Being a teacher I understand the value of a good lesson, and I got mine.

Funny how the body tells you enough. I got home Sunday afternoon with a sore throat and head cold. I have been on the bike a couple times this week. I hope to ramp things back up for She-vegas WORS race.

Enjoy the fall rides, they are the best!

Dakota Five-0

Only a 3 second gap...

Pre-ride.

"Look Back!"

A bit scary for a midwest boy at 1200 feet.

Battle Royal

Epic. The only word I can use to describe the weekend. Dakota Five-o, a last minute addition to the race calendar, was like no other.

Our crew hit the road Friday after work for the ten plus hour haul to Spearfish, SD. Accommodations were fabulous in our down town tour guide's parent's pad. Thanks Johns! A special thanks to Mieke for the race support!

Fast forward one day, a good nights sleep, a long pre-ride, some good camaraderie and we were on the starting line Sunday morning.

Smokey the Bear dropped his hand for the parade lead out as we rolled on to, what was to be, the most challenging course of my cycling career. Fifty miles with over 6,700 feet of climbing. Not knowing the who's who of South Dakota's mountain bike racing made things a bit more tenuous as we hit the first climb out of town.

The pace was blistering. A thirty man lead group was instantly whittled down to seven as the lactic tub filled. At that moment I was wondering how a four hour ride could go on at this pace! Pop, Pop! We were down to five riders. It's certainly amazing how hard it is to close a five yard gap at red line on a 15% - 20% gradient.

Into the uphill single track, and off the pace by 5 seconds, I rallied to bridge. Former champs and Colorado natives weren't making it easy. I could see the lead group shatter as the race took shape and gaps formed. It would be an epic haul from here on out!

Climb, climb, and climb was the name of the game. By mid race the knife was dull. With my face on the stem I put the 26 tooth to use. A mental battle more than anything, the race was taking a toll.

Past the bacon station, and a short late race bonk, I found some power for the final climbs. Not knowing the situation ahead, or behind, I knew the final ten miles down to town would be crucial. I had no idea how crucial.

With four to go, a slip of focus, and an evil stump, sent me jetting into the woods. My initial reaction was disbelief followed by a "my collar bone is broken!" Fighting off panic, I caught my breath and remounted only to be caught by two riders. Not good.

Adrenaline closed the gap and I had to quickly make a plan. We hit the final gravel road as a trio. One rider on a single speed and the other milking a 15 psi front tire. I knew I had the single speed in the sprint and railing the final corner would give me the gap over the other. Success.

I rolled over the line in just under four hours of the most painful racing I have ever experienced. I will be doing it again!

See you at the Fat!

I saw a bear. What a scare! Friday afternoon Linds and I made the haul up to Seeley to pre-ride the Pre-Fat. As we rolled past the dump gate I jokingly told her to watch out for bears. Little did I know, I would be the bear greeter. The Seeley area has many great rides. There is a variety of double and single track sections along with some undulating elevation. Carving a steep rocking downhill I scanned ahead to see a black bear standing in the middle of the trail. I hit the binders with 20 yards to spare. Surprisingly, the bear did not move! After some yelling and flailing my fuzzy friend busted off into the woods. Maximum heart rate accomplished.

The atmosphere and nostalgia of an up north race is something I truly enjoy. It is always great to see the enthused faces that inspired me nearly a decade ago. After Tom explained signs and course we were rolling up OO.

As in past years, the road pace was moderate. I stayed near the front to avoid any silliness. Over the first climb I tucked into second wheel as we entered the woods. Aaron was pushing hard and a three man group was established before we crossed for the big climb. Cooperating, we set a hard tempo over the ski trail and the gap continued to grow. At the end of the first major single track section I was 10 sec off the pace as Scott rallied the trail. After hard chasing, I was able to reconnect with 10 miles to go.

Seven to go, with a three minute gap, we kept a mild pace heading into the final single track loop. Once again, Scott had 10-15 sec at the end of the single track sections. Many things were running through my mind. I knew at red line it would be close, but not that close.

100 yards to go, with the finish banner in sight, I pinned it. The gap was small and my legs felt strong. Inspired I surged one last time to cross for the W.


A big thanks to On The Rivet, Momentum Endurance, Lindsey, and the fam for all their support!
Dakota Five-O here we come!

O2S Adventures

We loaded up the VW on Friday morning for the long haul to da UP. Our crew made good time from RF as we cruised the north country roads. Our pre-ride worked out well this year with the two car shuttle system. As you know, there is a long paved road section in the middle of the race. This road is also home to one the largest climbs on course. We started our pre-ride at the bottom. Rick, Mark, Matt, Tj (the winner!) and I cut up the last 15 miles. There is certainly something to be said about riding down hill for over 10 miles. Along the way nature treated us to a near death black bear sighting and some speedy descents.

Morning of the race went well as we beat the racer rush to the local AM eats. As we drove by the start line things started to get real. I am not exactly sure why the triple crown races carry such a stigma, but it is always exciting to line up with the big boys for a point to point battle.

Bam! Things were started in usually fashion with contenders at the front cruising behind the "neutral" start. Don't let anyone fool you, this is not a roll out start. To our surprise there was also a VW-bug driving around the first corner! I started poorly, I suspect my warm up was not hard enough, however I made my way back to the top 10-15ish by the ski climb three miles in.

Ping! The tragic sound of my chain ending its' life at the start my first big race. I watched in dissapointment as it rolled from my chainring to the dirt below. Game over.

As I leaned against my bike, holding my chain in one hand, I couldn't help but wonder how often this really happens. It was the first time for me in seven years of racing.

Fortunately for me, Scott Cole came cruising up the climb just in front of the sweep quad. He had flated just 2 miles into the race. After removing the damaged link I added to insult by dropping the quicklink into the grass! I was on a roll, not really.

Rally, rally, rally trading pulls with Scott. Our two man time trial made up some good time for ninety minutes or so. At the very least I got some good tempo work in! At ten to go my bad luck struck again. I walked for a quarter mile as I watched riders roll by for the second time. Fortunately, there was another kind soul who stopped to help me out. Thank you Mr. Cole and Mr. Mix.

I rolled over the line at 3hours 12 minutes with a rolling ride time of 2hours 40mins. Not bad for Scott and I after an adventurous day in and out of the saddle.

All that being said, an enormous congratulations is in order for my friend and fellow speed racer, Travis Woodruff!! Good work bud!

The Porch Podium!

Blistering Pace

My industrial park warm up loop left much to be desired as my legs felt heavy and my tires sticky. However, motivation is high for the home town race. I knew what had to be done. Reach the singletrack in the top ten. Job one complete.

Lap 1:
A bit tapped from the explosive climb I was passed by half a dozen riders on the high side of the course. Riding in the mid teens.

Lap 2:
Made a big effort on the start climb. Rallied the single track to tag along with Jesse and Chris.

Lap 3:
Steady pace and already running into heavy lap traffic. I can really feel the effort draining my power.

Lap 4:
Slowest lap by over a minute. Two falls from cross-eyed fatique and heat exhaustion. Straightened the handle bars at the water station. Lost my racing partners. Caught by small group of four. Recovered by end of lap.

Lap 5:
Small attack on the big climb. Split our small group. Pushed the limits of cornering speed and ended up limping in for a top 20 finish.

There is certainly a long way to go, but I feel a bit more horsepower may be coming around.
See you all at the big show!

Sunday INSPIRATION...

Here is a quick Boarder Battle race course update.

WICKED FAST!

Possibly the fastest the KORC trails have ever been.
See you on the line!

Feelings

I saddled up on a true road bike for the first time in over three years. It was exhilartating. A friend in town recently purchased a new bike, leaving his oversized 62cm frame lonely and in need of some wrench love. After a frankenstein-stem change and a bottle of degreaser I was ready to roll. It felt a little like Christmas morning. I can imagine the difference between a mountain bike and the road bike must be similar to the diffences between a Honda Fat Cat and a Ducati Desmosedici. Handling at speed is a huge diffence, not to mention the fluid forward acceleration when you put the scews to it. Enjoy the ride!

Turning the screws and taping the box.

Crazy weather. Hard workouts. Moving across town. More cowbell?

Radial.


New threads.

Dear John...

Mr. Beck, we are waiting to party with YOU!

1.21 Gigawatts!?

The Firecracker is always a trip to the past for me. Tj, John and I tore up the trials before there were trials. The Archer Park/Otter Creek assult was the premier ride. This years race brought much of the same excitement as I rolled around for a pre-ride on Saturday. I was greeted with the usual course challenges and some new zero-g rollers! The creek trails certainly test the skills of a rider. Everyone is struggling for that little boost of speed as short power climbs keep a tight pack. GOOOO! Not really. I came to an abrupt stop just seconds from the line after a dirt slinging race winning rider unclipped in my path. Unfortunately, I lack the power to pass at full speed, leaving me track standing at the first section of single track. Pedal, Pedal, Pain, Pedal, Pain and I was back in the top 15 riders. As the saying goes, "if you aint rubbing you aint racing," held true. For the first time since returning to the race scene I felt like I was racing. Going into the last lap I was attempting to control our small group of four riders, taking the lead on long single track sections and responding to small attacks. Conveniently, Muraski was also in our four man group. He launched several valiant attacts throughout the last lap leaving my legs cooked. I went into the last section of single track in fourth wheel, hoping to slingshot for the best of the rest as we exited the rock garden. One bobble and in the rocks and the rest is history.
A big thanks to all the race directors and trail makers! The Eau Claire race is a great one!

Once the toothpaste is out of the tube...

Riding on the fine line, as some say, is right where I have been training. I once heard a famous coach coin the phrase "pushing the envelope." Stepping back and taking a closer look at this seasons training has brought me back to build phase. Sub-threshold or the slow lactic drip. After two weeks and some careful wattage watching I am back to...respectable fitness. Pedal on!

Shadows of Inspiration

Photo: L. Weber

Napolean Complex

Nervous anticipation for the big show turned to a sizable piece of humble pie as I rolled around for my fourth lap of the Wisco-Norba. Racing amnesia is at an all time high after my long cycling hiatus. In the words of Young brothers, "its a long way to the top if you wanna rock 'n' roll."

The 2010 season started last summer. Thirty pounds thicker and out of shape, I attacked the sport field with vigor and a rekindled love for the pedals. Fall lead to Willow River where I spent many nights chasing shadows over the patchy corduroy snow. Spring brought numbed toes and burnt skin, but, more importantly, a glimmer of hope for the race season.

It has truly been a great cycling reunion these past months. Thank you.

See you on the line!