Your New Year's Resolution!

It is simple, and it only takes one day to complete.

Ride the 50/50.

Umm...Zurich, we have a problem!

Turn the volume to nil, and this may be bearable!

New Year's 50/50

Sunday, January 2, 2011 7:00 am

The brainchild of Scottie D., and nearly his unravelling in last year's inaugural edition. Nobody deserves this. Personally, I was so deep in the hurt locker last year, I didn't thaw out for about 2-3 days. Attrition rate was approximately 70%. Got me a nifty bottle opener for completing the assignment (and just used it seconds ago).

If your name is Brad "the Snowman" Trans-I-owalter, you probably need this meager level of suffering. If your excuse out includes the phrase "I haven't been riding...", save it. If you have scheduled a colonoscopy immediately before or after, shame on you. For the rest of you, lemme 'splain how this works: The goal is to cram 100 miles of cycling, divided into the referenced formats, in to one of the shortest (and coldest) days of the year. If you are lucky there will be a bowl of soup and a cup of coffee in between. If you are real lucky they will be warm. Useful daylight is estimated at 10 hours, 7am to 5 pm. That equals 10 mph, including stops. Everything else is bonus time (or night riding). In that vain, the ride proceeds with much haste, and without dilly dally. It is always advisable to stay near the front. As it helps keep the pace rather spirited, poaching is encouraged. Some 50/30, 30/50, 30/30, just 30 and just 50 groups may form. 30 miles is about 50 kilos and so we'll let it slide. Thus, you, cracker jack cyclist, can notch your musket with the ole' 50/50.

A few big questions:

Who will keep the co-ed classification alive?
Who will go DNS out of the gate this year, Metro, or No-Showalter (or both)?
Who will bring Scottie D in?
Who will finish the secret Stage 3?
Who will host?

We will narrow the details in the coming weeks. Meanwhile...I leave you with LAST YEAR's tutorial on how you work this out on the home front. (Note some minor details have changed).


Sir Tony Brown sets the tempo in the road stage of the 1976 edition of the New Year's 50/50

Where cycling fails...

...skydiving succeeds!

(3 minutes well spent!)

Here to Lay Pipe.

Mtn Foz rides virtual brown jersey to victory!

To live all three days you must be there all three days, and those who made it happen were not disappointed. Chad handily took the stage & the mustache to jump out to a commanding 3 minute lead as drunken debacle of a prologue Friday night paved the way for the Saturday ITT. After Chad abandon the brown jersey Saturday morning, Metro rode the virtual brown to a stage victory, edging out TB by a scant 20 seconds, and Foster by a mere 10 more. Scottie D. abandoned under suspicious circumstances, and was therefore a non-factor, giving rise to rumors that he may have failed doping control. Metro took an apparent GC lead going into Sunday's road event. However, a bit of a scoring error Saturday night had erroneously given the jersey to Metro, when it was Foster with a narrow 11 second GC margin over the bearded messiah. Where beer & a pencil had failed, coffee and the laptop picked up the slack.

Day 3 thing got right interesting, as Metro texted in his early abandonment just as Chad & Scottie had before him. It seemed like wrapping up Biketoberfest down at the Mega Bike Mart was a little more important than having your name tattooed on the human trophy what is Browntown glory. Thus it was Foster riding Day 3 in virtual brown, with Winborne a couple of minutes behind, and Peter in third. Christan & Foghorn rounded out the GC, and Frank & Jeremy offered neutral support.

Protest by local farmers in the first kilometer saw the narrow country road clogged with farm implements, diesel duallies and flat bed trailers. Riders snaked through to the first gravel section and started to size each other up. Frank went out early with a flat. Each successive hill and headwind offered the opportunity to shed another drafter. With a final few swigs of Browntown Brown Ale in the water bottle, Foghorn used home course advantage & knowledge to continually attack the hills, wind sections and gravel roads to shed all chasers to a solo victory. Winborne rode the wheel nobly (on a mountain bike) but finally cracked inside the 15K banner, and was overtaken by a late charging Foster inside 5K for runner up & the overall win.



As always, a huge thanks to people like Amy & Shannon Black and Amy Waters, for allowing us to crash their pads. Pibby donated prizes of marginal all the way up to substantial value. And thanks to everyone else who brought a little something to contribute to the party. Last but not least, Foster & Jeremy brewed the beer, so raise a pint to those guys.

Hurricane Warning! The Yin & Yang of cycling.

There is a storm brewing over on Velominati (incidentally, if you haven't been there, go there, they do it up right - learn to live the rules, speak the lexicon. but I digress...). It is kind of like a high pressure system in the southeast Atlantic, just hangin' out down in the corner of the picture, ain't bothering nobody, not a significant concern at this time, but the potential to wreak havoc is immense.
It all started out (and doesn't it always) with some bashing of the idea that utilizing a Garmin cycling computer is for the complete wanker. Well, you know Foghorn took that right personal, cause he do love his Garmin. "whaddarya gonna get lost or something?" I believe was the quote. I have heard this before and let it slide. But since the Velominati is not just about riding well, it is about doing it with the utmost style and reverence towards the history of the sport, i had to jump in. (Not that the Garmin has anything to do with the history...but again, I digress.) I simply pointed out that not all Garmin models provide turn-by-turn directions, ala that hideous thing in my mom's car, and that they are all about style since there are no wires, no sensors, no transmitters, and can be stem-mounted, all per per rule #74. They also provide insanely accurate data, are transferable from bike to bike, and require no calibration. Well, Frank, apparent host of the site, was willing to hear the argument, but kindly pointed out there is an competing effort to ban computers altogether, "full stop" to quote the man. He was going to post a piece in the near future, and let the in-fighting begin amongst the peloton.
We'll see how that plays out soon, but there is a bigger picture here. Yin or Yang? Neo or Retro? Can the two exist harmoniously, on the same bike, even? For example, up until a few weeks ago, I rolled out regular on a '98 Bianchi, lugged steel frame, in the classic Celeste paint job, with down tube shifters, and leather saddle. Classically Retro. However, those down tube shifters were 9 speed SIS Dura-Ace, and the bike also sported a carbon fork, ergo 3 bend handle bars, threadless headset, GXP bottom bracket, deep section rims, as well as aforementioned Garmin. Definitely Neo.

So, is it better to be the fastest guy in the group, relying on carbon this and titanium that, or does a real hardman "run what he brung", and ride the wheel of the techno-weenie in his 7-eleven kit on a 23 pound, 14 speed Peugeot circa 1972, with toe clips, cottered cranks, and and a rat's nest of brake cables spewing from the hoods?

It is the Lance Armstrong or Bob Roll conundrum.

Foghorn Blows Up Commuter Course Record - Almost!

Well it all started last Friday morning, I'm a bit late getting out of the house on the bike and I am on the newly built up Ti Motobecane, which is sweet! So I am about a mile in and I'm going through this tunnel of foliage, so to speak, and it's pretty damn dark in there (keep in mind this is before 7 am), when I hear that diesel (not Scottie D.) downshifting behind me and I know it is that thing I dread the most 9 months out of the year, the friggin' school bus. Now I've been through this before and this is why I am ultra anal about getting out of the house on time, once you get behind that school bus you are super-fucked, cause it's illegal to pass that thing when it's stopped (you know I hold the law in the highest regard), and even if you do get around, it is this pass and be passed thing that goes on forever. So I know the bus is trying to pass me, I am in a dark hole and I know the edge of the road is rough as hell, and I can see the kids at the next stop about 100 yards ahead. So I'm not getting over, in fact I'm moving to the center of the road and I decide it's time to try out this 53x11 gear I've got which I really have yet to use. next thing I know the school bus has dropped out of the rear view and I'm haulin' ass, well for me, anyway. I'm keeping an eye on the average speed and I start to notice that this is looking like my fastest commute to date. I get to the gravel section of my ride and I'm hitting like 19.9 mph average and this is looking pretty good. Dropping down the gravel and back up the little lung busting climb my average is 20.2 coming over the top on to the flat. It's hard to get back up to speed on that gravel, so I roll into the shop at 19.8 mph average & 32 minutes flat, still almost 2 mph & 2 minutes better than my fastest commute.

Flash forward to this morning, the bus did not threaten, and I hit the gravel road & notice that the rain over the weekend has provided some nice smooth, packed clay lines, and I am at 20.2 average and feeling Friday's numbers are in serious jeopardy. Well about the time I am thinking that I should be looking at the road and not at the computer, I hit a little bump with the rear tire and hear: PFFFFFFFFFFFFFSSSSSSSSSSSSST!

That ain't no bump, that's a rock and I gots me some flat tire. Damn!

I change it all out and get to work still like 35 mins early, and the record stands for another day, at least.

The SM100 2010 is in the books! A fine & dusty event. The weather was beautiful. Chilly starting temps in the 40's gave way to sunny skies and mid-70's. I had a great ride and left plenty of room for improvement in 2011. Twelve hours even, shaving a pitiful ten minutes off last years misery. Felt pretty good all day, even when getting skunked by chicks, singlespeeds, chicks on singlespeeds, tandems, the guy with the prostethic leg, 15 year old kids, etc. Chapeau to all of them!

For me, 11 hours was the cutoff between finishing and surviving. So I survived to ride another year. I have a laundry list of excuses, which I am saving for next year!

The River City was well represented. Scottie D. nailed it with at 10:10, one spot off the podio. T. Green had good time. Joe Fish was, well, Joe Fish. Chad, Jeremy, myself, Foster, Big Leeger, Metro & Spike all trickled in before dark. I took advantage of my friends wherever I could. Dennis Throckmorton, got your shoes off at the aid station? Foghorn attacks. Foster, pants down in the woods? Foghorn attacks.

Also huge props to the volunteer corps, without which, Chris Scott may have to get a legitimate job. Peter was there in the morning, and Amy Waters snapped the photo above of me eating pizza at mile 75/hour 9.5. Good thing she was there, cause I was right clueless at that point.

In the end, an elite selection finished Stage 2, polishing off the kegs and moving into the emergency stash after the midnight hour.

The Fruits of a Day's Labor

Today I put the finishing touches on about 40 of these babies! Only found one that had been hacked down. Apparently some folks aren't so keen on having these signs in their front yard. Go figure. They are probably golfers. I tried to get one in my front yard but I'm about 150 yards off route. So in that case they call that stealing, I guess. No matter - by end of week we will have six routes encompassing approximately 350 miles, in New Kent and beyond, posted with these signs.
Saw some hot bike bettys grinding out this hill on Old Church Road today. Thought they would be impressed with the signage, but apparently not. They must have had some thing for that hill though, cause they hit it about half a dozen times while I was there. Little too much like training for my taste.
Don't forget to come out and join us for the Sept 25 kickoff event. All routes will be posted, ridden, and supported.
The rest of the year you are on your own. 'Cept for the signs of course, they'll be around until they get hacked, run over or peppered with buckshot. No worry, I gots extras!

Oh yeah, three more days of salvation for you slap nuts who are kickin' the SM100. Try this little preparatory exercise, from the Foghorn yoga camp:

Sit on the floor upright with both heels & feet flat on floor, and legs bent in front of you at approximately a 90 degree angle. The distance between your knees should be slightly more than shoulder width. Breathe deeply and relax.

Now exhale and lean forward, placing your head between your knees. Continue to breathe deeply and try to relax.

Now exhale again and lean further forward.

Now (and this is the important part), take one last deep breath, lean as far forward as possible, tuck you head and KISS YOUR ASS GOODBYE!

You got 31 days to soak yer socks in kerosene

Cause the ants will be coming after yer candy ass.

One month. Thirty-one glorious days. Till this. I will be going deep, deep, deep into the pain cave. I will be hiding in the hurt locker behind an old pair of gym socks, a jock strap that smells like floor stripper, and a moldy bologna & cheese sandwich. I will be checking my suitcase of courage at the ticket counter, and living out of my fanny pack of shame for about 12 hours. Hopefully less, but probably not.

If you recall, this all started back on Jan 2, with the New Years 50/50. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Well we parlayed that into a century just about every month up through the early summer. Think Ferry-Roubaix, Skyline Double Fondo, Urban 100, and so on. Then it got hot - DAMN HOT! We kicked in the Wed Night Summer Series, and that just showed me I can't breathe this putrid soup they call air around here.

So this is it. The culmination of 8 months of riding, not training, just riding. Ain't no sense in training now. Might as well just get comfy and get some rest.

This race hurts - not just physically, but mentally as well. I've heard it's tougher than Leadville. A few pre-rides have reminded me that the pucker factor is high in quite a few spots. Cheers to everyone who's gonna hang it out there, put it all on the line, and be Champ for a day! There are no losers, only quitters. Hope I ain't one.

Belle Isle Dirt Crit

Well the dust has settled on that baby, so to speak, and per usual foghorn standards, I thought it was pretty brutal. A three way bike collision on North Bank just trying to get there set the stage for a rather reckless event. Dodging pit bulls & toddlers also added to the excitement. Word is Foghorn regulars Foster and Jeremy were spotted on road bikes well away from the venue. A bold message indeed!

I clocked the route at about 0.75 miles gravel, 0.5 miles singletrack. The first two laps were blazing; hell, elbows were being thrown on the parade lap, for Pete's sake. Foghorn hung with the leaders for a couple, but the legs were screaming "No, No, No!"

Mean Todd laid down a a mean beat and few were able to hang. I think he brought Travis in just to give him a one lap breather. Next time we're putting and end to that collaboration. Brody hung in for third, I doubt he got much cooperation out of the other two. He may be leading in the points for the men. Brandy represented pretty well as the only female, and is clearly the points leader there. She seems to have some sort of "cat that ate the canary" look at the end of these things. A "shit eating grin" so to speak. She'll be back.

Not exactly Swiss timing, but results are below, and you should be able to click on and open them up, in theory. If not, try the call center in Mumbai...

Foghorn is on the beach next week, with bike getting spa treatment and resting peacefully at Pibby's. Feel free to carry on without, if not we'll crank it up upon return. We're going to have to get back to the old days, where your ability to chug draft pale ale was just as important as any riding skills you may or may not posses.

Forest Hill ITT

Fast, fun & free (plus some degree of suffering). The hallmarks of a true Foghorn event. The Forest Hill ITT did not disappoint.

What did disappoint is the loss of my Garmin GPS cyclocomputer. The failure of a $12 mounting device (and hardly worth that) caused the loss of a $250 piece of low tech electronics. You see a photo of what once was above. I can't even bear to think of how I might go on. Thanks to all the support I've gotten recently from folks on that.

Oh yes, back to the event. I've heard people say they've "dumbed down" Forest Hill. Well, FHP smartened up on lap 2 at about 100 degrees F. I really thought I might toss whatever cookies were in me. For me, the first lap went fairly well but the second lap really sucked. Bit of a new perspective on FHP. Huge props to Brandy-fastest female, Scottie D.-fastest male/fastest lap, and Jeremy-fastest singlespeed. Actually, huge props to everyone for just coming out. It was fun, and the ice cream man came by right on cue at the finish. We even got mooned by a passing car. I haven't been mooned in like 20 years. I didn't know kids were still mooning people these days. Awesome!

Here is last nite's FHP ITT official score card. Snowman, sorry but an unoffical scoring error bumped me up a minute, and that put me 59 seconds ahead of you, pal. Top 3, I'm gunning for you guys next week.

I got pretty worried after a rather apathetic "Simpsons Trivia" prologue to set the start sequence. I mean when it takes 16 people three guesses to get a True/False question right, we may have a problem. Great crowd though, a few Foghorn veterans, and plenty of newbies. Excellent representation by the females. It always makes me smile when someone shows up in cutoffs and a T-shirt and takes the rest of the crowd to ride school. This week it was John. Fine work, buddy. OK, so they weren't cutoffs, but still...

I am simultaneously scratching my head and my ass thinking of a new venue and format for next week. Ancarrow's Landing Dirt Crit is getting serious consideration!

Someone get my thanks out to Kate for running the clock. Excellent job, hope to have you back on staff next week. We're going to double your salary!

Browntown Fondo!

AKA Urban 100. Damn that ride is a pain in the ass. Too many friggin' distractions in the city. Too many mechanicals and flat tires as well. On the up side, stopped to change a flat, found a nickel bag. (The rest of that story is confidential.) Of course it was disposed of properly!

Yeah, yeah, I know it says 87 miles, but the computer batteries died about 5 miles from the finish. Davis has like 95 total on his. A few trails were left on the table so we now know it is in fact doable. Ran out of time (dinner reservations), besides, my tongue was getting caught in my derailleur it was hangin' so low. To paraphrase Davis' quote of Richard Childress quoting Dale Earnhart Sr, I had to soak my socks in kerosene, cause the ants were bitin' my candy ass.

We're calling it done so we can move on. Note the trick, super secret back entrance to Pocahontas SP at Courthouse Road and 288. Sweet! No photos, camera is just dead weight and yet another distraction.

Next weekend I vow to spend less than seven hours on a bike! My ass is sore.

Wild Bill's Skyline Double Fondo

AKA: Reversal of Fortune!

Damn. What better way to spend a weekend than back to back centuries up & down the spine of the Blue Ridge? Well, how about making it 8-stages, fully self-supported, ultra-light touring style. No sag wagon, no bailouts. This ride had everything: hills, thrills, chills, canadians, bikers, chicks, canadian biker chicks, rain, pain, food, beers, bears, scats, flats, blowouts, blowups, fog, horns, foghorn and at least one speedo, to name but a few.

Eight well-nourished and perfectly sane souls left Rockfish Gap on a perfectly beautiful Friday morning, and blissfully pedaled north into Shennandoah NP with only the provisions they could carry on their backs and/or racks. The pleasantries lasted precisely 22 minutes before the attacks started coming. And it was on! While not formally a race of any kind, there was no recordkeeping, it was pretty apparent that some people were taking this shit personal. It wasn't long in the oxygen deprived state that foghorn imagined himself in a 2-day stage race. There are no turns, and rest stops with food and water and toilets, etc are 25 miles apart along the route-Perfecto!

Joe Fish, Scottie D., British Dave, Wild Bill, Foster, J-Pac, Foghorn and Jeremy;

Joe Fish established himself as a fixture at the front early and often. In fact the only time we could put him in distress was when he was only the pay phone at aid station 3 and we all jumped on our bikes and bolted! Keeping his wheel on the climbs was quite a good bit of work and the descents were screaming! In true tour style there were no granny gears so even when you were in your lowest gear it was grunt-fest. Two & three guys, loaded with gear, bombing down hill at 35+ mph, dodging cars & potholes & whatever else the road may throw at you was a blast. Pass on the left, draft on the right, pass on the left, draft on the right... incredible!

The Big Meadows Protein Pill

Big Meadows lodge and campground is the high point and half-way point of the ride (both days). It is cold and windy as shit there. The food is decent and there are plenty of tourist to feed. Once you roll out "it's all down hill from here!" Day 1 allows some bomb-ass downhills of like 5 and 7 miles into Front Royal. Unfortunately, Day 2 begins with the "Reversal of Fortune," all that descending is stacked up in front of you, first thing in the morning.

Missin' ya, good buddy!

Sir Tony Brown, this ride had your name written all over it, literally! It's really hard to imagine that you weren't actually there. It's a good sign that we can have fun without you, though (all puns are intended).

This was good visibility in Stage 8.

The "Reversal of Fortune" reared it's ugly head again at the start of Stage 7, when the elements turned a bit nasty. Fog, wind, rain really put a damper on the downhilling, and made climbing into the unknown abyss excruciating. The photo above was an area of good visibility! A few minutes before Scottie D, a black bear crossed the road here.

In the end the attrition rate approached 50%, as British Dave succumbed to a nasty tire blowout, J-Pac refused to get out of bed on Day 2, and Bill, well as of post time, there is no report on Bill. I am sure he's fine. Scottie, Joe and I left the last aid station together, and Scottie and I watched Joe hang it way out on some slippery, foggy down hills, and slip away into the mist on the ensuing climb. A solo 20 mile ride to victory. Ahhh, youth!

Finishers Club!

Jeremy, Joe, Foster, Scottie, Foghorn behind the lens

Day 1 here 6 hr 43 min/8200 calories

Day 2 here 7 hr 37 min/8700 calories

Love It When a Plan Comes Together!

Unfortunately, Saturday's "TB Farewell Urban 100" ride was not one of those instances. It typical Foghorn fashion, poorly organized, sparsely attended, a SNAFU from the gun. It was like a ride that never wanted itself to happen. In a fitting farewell, TB showed up late, rode off the front early (like mile #0.5) and was gone. We found him 2 hours later showered, dressed and painting his bathroom. Some say premeditated, some say typical TB membo (aka: male bimbo). Beyond that, the first couple of hours saw several crashed, two flat tires and an episode hither to only be referenced as the "poison ivy pandemic". I'm still itchin' all over, although the rash never appeared.


This was the last we'd see of TB.











Foster & Jeff on the flood wall.












This was the last we'd see of Pibby & Dave.













THe selection was made, and the chosen few got lunch and beers at Chez Andy. Actually, I think that was beer and lunch. Bob and Andy jumped in for a post-lunch Powhite session.





In the end, it was 100K not 100m for Scottie D., Mean T Green, Jeffrey and myself, but my ass was pretty whooped regardless. A lot was learned, and a lot was left on the table for the next attempt. Forest Hill turned out to be a right decent base camp, Stu showed us some new new trails and one helluva poison ivy patch. We got to see our peeps in the Urban Insult on both sides of the river, and the after party was mellow but awesome, with a backyard presentation of Cutters. Thanks to Ian & Molly for that. Wish I had some more photos, but I either had a handlebar, BBQ sandwich or beer in my hand pretty much all day.

Appropriately, the GPX file for that ride mysteriously became corrupted, and in that sense, it really never did happen. So no ride map for you techno-geeks, sorry.

FOghorn will be in seclusion this weekend on Skyline Drive for Bill Rider's (love that name, why can't I have a cool name like that?) Skyline traverse, an unsupported out & back event from Rockfish Gap to Front Royal, and vice versa. Fingers crossed for a successful event and safe return. Report next week!

Check out Peter!

Check out FLP sponsored rider Peter G. in the Urban Assault!

Also gets a bonus for a noble attempt (emphasize attempt) at sneaking through both heckle points along the course. Didn't happen though.

That ride time puts you on top of the podium in women's expert, Pete!

One with the Bike

This is right gnarly!

Age Before Beauty

Beautiful day out yesterday and I'd love to tell you how TB and I went out and proved all the pundits right by riding the New & Improved (errr, dumbed-down) Forest Hill Park on the road bikes, but this story takes a different turn. We picked up Clark and headed out west, and were making a pretty good clip of it up Old Gun. Well Clark looks over his shoulder and says we Have a "Bogey back." Now I've never played golf, but I did have to learn the rules (and lingo) for 10th grade phys ed, so I'm trying to remember is that 1 or two strokes over or under par. Well about that time Clark looks over his shoulder again and says "this guys coming fast!" So I'm thinking now how fast is fast cause as far as I know I'm on the wheel of the fastest guy in town right now. We about that time TB says "we'll just throw it in the big ring and see." I held TB's wheel but Clark immediately comes to grief. Well about that time this human rocket comes flying by liked a greased weasel shot out of a howitzer. This guy had an aerodynamic profile that didn't stand more than about 5 hands off the pavement. Well TB looks at me and we try to get on but by this point holding his wheel was like trying to hold Richard Gere's pet gerbil. So TB looks back and all i can do is grunt out an couple of muffled syllables something akin to "hell no!" and TB takes off. So his indecisiveness has cost him and he's got a lot of ground to cover. I don't know what happened after that, but when I finally caught up to this guy (now know as "the Greasel")at the stop light, he turns out to be like 65 years old. Bob Burch's (skinny) twin brother. For real. Southside Masters/Cat 1-level racer dude.

Well we ride some of that Salisbury loop together and we start yappin' about Forest Hill. He start in with this bit about dumbing down the trails, they're not technical anymore, etc. (we've all heard it) and the three of us gang up on him (politely) and throw in the sustainable routine, etc. Well apparently he wouldn't have much of it, he went quiet for about one minute and then dammit there he goes again! From the back and into outer space again! Again we all jump on but this guy is so tiny there ain't no draft, and again only TB can stay with him.

I could go on forever about how amazing this guy was but the moral of the story is never, ever underestimate the other rider.

2010 Ferry-Roubaix: Results, Recap, Reflections

And so it were! On a beautiful, glorious saturday morn, five riders rolled out from the line, with one jumping into the ride at mile 10, and one jumping out mile 85. The peloton worked well together all the way to the ferry, scouting some new routes along the way. We hit the Colonial Parkway and TB really started to soften up some folks. A coffee break hiding amongst the tourists of Colonial Williamsburg was well deserved. We rode all day across the back roads of New Kent, Charles City, Prince George, Surry and York Counties, and it came down to the final 50K between Scottie, Brown, Lang and Foster. Snowman felt the heat and opted to pace it out, while the late entrant, mystery-man Frank abandoned. We ran elbow to elbow through the first two gravel sections. I put in what I thought was a pretty honest pull, then Scottie and TB started to tighten the screws a little. Foster and I could not hang on in the headwind. I went into a dark place. I slowed down to eat, but never stopped. I finally caught Foster on Criss Cross Road with a flat. And luckily for him, I had a pretty kick-ass pump. As the rest of the course was my bike route to work, I felt a bit of a home field advantage. I knew exactly where to get out of the saddle on the last hill and I never sat back down. Holy shit! 120 miles. The longest ride of my life. Words may never do it justice.

Huge props to those who helped make it happen: Shannon, Glen, Sam, Blythe

1. Sunny Scottie D. (9.12.30)
2. Tony Brownclown (same time)
3. uncle foghorn (9.30.35)
4. MTN Foz (9.31.20)
5. Snowman (something like 10)
Frank (85m,8.04)


Fans came out to support their favorite riders.


5 toed the line.


New Kent bike shop.


Approaching the Benjamin Harrison Bridge.


"Hit neutral in the tail of a comet, feel the vortex pull my weight..." -Clutch


We finally figured out where he came from, but we couldn't get them to take him back.


A beautiful day on the water.


The road to Roubaix. This replica is autographed by Bob Roll. Sweet!


Foster finds out what the min 25c tire recommendation is all about. Foghorn gets a much needed break to assist and take photos.


Finishers treats.

The List

Mmmm-kay! The list of riders dwindles as the list of excuses grows. Let me break down the top 5 (excuses). These are all real, names have been withheld:

5). RACING THAT WEEKEND - It's noble, our feelings aren't hurt, but if you are thinking that somehow there is more fun and glory in riding the same 6 miles over and over and over and over, you need your head checked. (PS- it's the same 6 miles you rode last year.)

4.) HAVEN'T BEEN RIDING - Why the hell not? Snow, ice, rain - these are all merely obstacles the man has put in your path to promote his auto-centric society. Stop drinking the Kool-aid! Plus it's warmed up quite a good bit, roll down your window and check it out. We're all gonna suffer anyway.

3.) GOT A NEW JOB, WORKING WEEKENDS -We appreciate that, but call in sick

2.) I DON'T THINK I CAN FINISH - You won't know until you try! Plus, we did not ask you to think, just do! We'll put you in the sag wagon if need be. Bring your credit card.

and a well deserved top spot goes to:

1.) GETTING A COLONOSCOPY - you are indeed excused! Please send us a link to the You Tube video at your earliest convenience.

Ferry-Roubaix Pre-Registration is Open

For a limited time we are offering a deep, deep discount on the already free registration for this incredible event. Don't forget we have added a short (well kinda) loop for those of you just coming out of hibernation. Others will not have that option.

We roll at 9:00 am, April 10 people, from New Kent, Virginia



here's about 150k for ya (no Ferry, but you get to go to Roubaix).

here's about 200k for us other dorks.

Don't forget, we have sag support, a lunch stop, and a nice race to the finish. Scottie D. is kicking in some sweet finishers' prizes. Oh yeah, there will also be a nice pancake breakfast for those of you who can get here early enough.






Finally, we will be offering the Roubaix challenge: ride with us on Saturday, then head for the hills for the Harris-Roubaix on Sunday. There is absolutely no reward or award for that level of stupidity.

Bring your smack here to register.

Good News/Bad News

You might have an opinion on this, if you weren't so damn stoned all the time!

Anybody else...

...feeling like this right now?

Your gonna need permission from the Mayor...

If you want to ride this:


Did some exploration with the Jedi Masters yesterday. Learned how to properly carry a light sabre, and use it to clear trails. I would usually tell you where this is and post a map, but not this time. Let's just say that epic urban loop is getting bigger, and um, well, more urban.

Bringing Tonto along to watch your back doesn't hurt either.


Notice how the rails are all rusty, nothing has traveled this line in a long time.



Secret location, inside the City limits.

Salut, Gerry!

Today, and for a long time to come, Foghorn mourns the passing of a good friend. Gerry Reid quietly qualified for the next stage yesterday at Duke Medical Center, the result of a horrific traffic accident Monday morning. Needless to say, the Foghorn team will be a man down for quite a while. Gerry wasn't an avid cyclist, but I do distinctly remember that neon orange Fuji mountain bike, circa 1993, which he held onto forever. I'm almost positive it's still in his garage. I was fortunate enough to spend a year in Raleigh after college, where Gerry showed me the local trails.

For Gerry, I imagine heaven is an infinite hockey rink, with plenty of homebrew, and a few hand rolled cigs. I hope it is so. Godspeed, good man, skate on, we'll look for you on the other side.

Salute, Gerry!

A few pics from NAHBS

Government Protection

“I think the bicyclists ought to police each other instead of us (motorists) having to look out for them.”

– Del. Barry Knight (R – Virginia Beach), reportedly speaking in opposition to HB 1048, on the House floor, the 3 foot passing of bicycles, after he had specifically mentioned the incident in his district on the Pungo bridge where the two riders got tangled up and one went over the side and down about 35 feet into the marsh, surviving with minor injuries.

The bill did not pass in the House, it is still alive in the Senate.

Personally, I feel the same way about children.
And pedophiles.
And dogs.
And Iraq.
And motorists.

In fact, this could balance the state and local budgets quite quickly.

Sweet Treats

Well after that lackluster showing in C'ville last weekend, Scottie D. and i had to remind ourselves we did know how to ride these fairly expensive Bianchis we maintain, and what a better way to do that than reverse scout the Ferry-Roubaix route under sunny skies. Well those sunny skies worked against us early, as the gravel (read: mud) sections thawed out rather quickly. A rutted, pasty, sometimes icy, sometimes muddy route awaited, and TB & British Dave were on hand to embrace the challenge. A few well placed loads of #3 gravel (that's the big stuff), mostly on the descents, added to the excitement. TB keeps racking up the nicknames, and "Tom Boonen" seems to fit quite nicely this time of year. Those kids can party.

Anyhoo, we found ourselves at Aroma's coffee shop in Williamsburg around lunch time and let's just say there are always some sweet treats at Aroma's. 60 degrees and sunny didn't hurt. Lil' Miss Sun Dress even made a showing, a fine showing indeed. I've seen thong bikinis with more coverage. I was not aware of the worldwide shortage of cotton. Thinly veiled attempts to sneak a photo via camera phone were not successful. If they were, you know you'd see it here first.

The ride home saw a jaunt down the Colonial Parkway (headwind, anyone?), absolute terrorization of the new Capital Trail, and a short tour of the backroads of Charles City and New Kent Counties. We slowly came to the realization that this little ride was going to be a century. We ended said century in style with a six pack of Legend Brown. Literally, we bypassed the house, rode straight to the store, and ended the ride carrying the Legend Brown. A seven pack of Brown if you include Tony Brown toting the Brown. Appropriate.

What a great group. Everybody suffers with such style, nobody is willing to let the true pain show. Technically I ended with like 99.2, but my computer died around 97, so we'll never know. Couple of dorks had to do some laps around the neighborhood to get their hundred. Seemed frivolous to me, i just dove into the bevvies.

Hand Crafted & Sweaty

If you like someone to sweat over your beer before you drink it, do this on Sunday.



If you like someone to sweat over your bike before you sweat all over it, try this next weekend. Foghorn will most likely be there Saturday with the tykes. Save 25% online, kids under 6 are free all weekend.

Valentine's Day Massacre

Maggie got a mediocre 4th in the Pine Car Derby, "I just hope we don't get last, Daddy," she quipped. Dad was not such an overachiever. I wrapped up the weekend with a DFL in the Pantani Ride.The Pantani Ride - Short Course, was as advertised: a lung busting suffer-fest in the most miserable conditions. Ice, snow, slush, mud, hills (oh god, the hills), cold, wind-all the critical elements. Local speak of two snow plows and the tow truck that tried to rescue them stuck on the Simmons Mtn loop led to the revision. Dave Tevendale is a heck of a guy and hosted a fine, if sparsely attended, event. 8 of these guys rolled out hot from the gun, and Uncle Foghorn was tastin' his breakfast at like mile 3. Foghorn quickly found himself chasing the chase group. Dave regrouped the guys in the back including Foghorn and Scottie D. and we all had a fine time. Pretty soon 5 became 7 as we picked up a couple of wanderers including J. Mac. the battle for 2nd was hotly contested, but Foghorn's fate was sealed with a flat 2 miles from home.



Barnyard Intern Scottie D. earned a full time position with Foghorn Leghorn Productions for scoping the event and keeping the hype up. I snapped his photo at the crest of Fox Mtn Road in celebration.

2010 Ferry-Roubaix is on! April 10.

The problem with a Spring Classic, is that it occurs in the spring. Therefore, training (including riding, people), must be performed in the winter. DO NOT look out the window at this time. You can see that Foghorn is being served frozen not fresh this winter. Foghorn has endured the elements like Cornelius Yukon. The Foghorn team has traveled great distances to suffer at the hands of superior foes. Foghorn has hit the ice more time than he cares to remember. Even the Donner party would say Foghorn has had a rough winter.

Seeing the big thaw on the horizon, Foghorn has been working behind the scenes as well. Foghorn is rallying the movers, the shakers, the organizers: all the "little people" who make a big party happen. We think we will have a little something for everyone. So pack up the family (or whoever's kids those are), chart a course out of the city, and make plans to get your tail feathers out to New Kent County on April 10.This year we have a new director sportif, Rayn Rock, an expert in the organizational sciences. We're throwing down a pre-ride pancake breakfast. Ann Hardy is helping out on the short course. The Brown Recluse is leading the long course. Both routes will ride neutral, regroup for lunch, then we will have the final 50k marked & flagged in case things at the front get "spirited". New FLP full timer Scottie D. is busy tooling right now with the industrial metal press and a pencil grinder on some kick-ass finishers prizes (if you are the proud owner of a New Years 50/50 bottle opener, you know what I'm talkin' bout). Doubling his salary has really been an effective motivator.

"What can I do to become a pat of this historic event?" , you ask. Foghorn needs your help as well. You have 49 days to whip your poultry ass into shape (you should be ashamed of yourself, you look like shit). You need to get back to Foghorn and state your intentions. Letters of intent are being accepted, but smack is the sincerest form of flattery here, people. Call out your riding buddies, and let your mouth write a check your ass will have to cash later. All closet trainer riders must be outed!

As with all FLP events, it'll never cost more than a 6 pack to ride. More details will trickle out in the coming weeks, and I am sure Mr & Mrs Superzero over at Xtranormal will have something to say about this.

Get back to us so we can count you "IN"!

Building A Super Light Racer

Yup. European style. Only weighs 3 oz.

Maggie's helping. She did a ton of sanding, a coat of spray paint, she added the stripe and the stickers. She put on the wheels and added the secret sauce - graphite. 100% organic. Not just on the axles, she covered the whole damn thing in graphite. I was actually quite proud of the work she put in.



Now we're going down to the Baptist Church to kick some ass in the Awana Pine Car Derby! I'm a bad loser and an even worse winner, so I'm brushing up on my smack talk. Actually a bit nervous about going into church, you know Foghorn is a sinner, not a repenter. If there is divine intervention in this event, it probably won't go my way. Jesus would be doing me a big favor if we lost in the first heat and got to come home early. I'll defer that divine intervention until tomorrow's icy/snowy/slushy/muddy Pantani Ride, which ain't gonna go my way either. Nothing quite like riding off into the unknown, under your own power.

In too deep

Had to give myself a taste of what this Pantani RIde might be all about, so I suited up and commuted today. Criss Cross Road did not disappoint! Also refining the studded tires. Scottie D. hooked me up with some adhesive that has probably landed me on an EPA watch list. Liner installed, one tire is ready for the ride home. One fucking studded tire, what a douche! And toting a perfectly good (sort of) tire in my backpack, double douche! Pretty much all the ice had melted by afternoon, so one fucking studded tire flinging asphalt the whole way home-triple dog douche! It will be 2 studded tires by tomorrow. But no commute. The VDOT pinhole patching crew has been dispatched.

So there is some suspicion that the Pantani may be unrideable, that we are suckers for a set up, that we don't understand the forces we are dealing with and we are in over our heads. Way over. I personally have been riding over my head for a couple of years now, so if I curl up in the fetal position in a snowbank somewhere northwest of C'ville it wont be too suprising. In any event, we are a barnyard divided. The rooster will roll & the old goat too, but the horse has bailed. Duck and pig never really were a factor.

Ice Bowl 2010

The Super Bowl Sunday Ride was salvaged. I don't know how it went in H'burg, but I can't imagine it went well. After riding uphill all day with the Merchant of Misery, TB, I couldn't imagine going any farther or deeper. Met up with barnyard intern, Scottie Super D. on Belle Isle. He is between semesters so he was allowed off the farm.

Then we all found Buttermilk. As if the hand of God himself had come down and carved a packed groove in the snow. A foot wide, six inches deep, it was like a bobsled run. Turns out there was a trail run yesterday which got things broken in nicely.

I took the initiative and knocked all the snow off the low hanging branches, and also managed to lay 'er down at least half a dozen times. Most were soft landings but I went down hard trying to outrun traffic on Riverside Drive. Fortunately I have managed to get several Sierra Nevadas in me before the pain set in.

Right, Scottie D. busts a stone cold groove on Buttermilk.

I know there's a warmer place

Rode with the Brown Recluse again last evening. He only comes out when the weather is at it's worst. True Belgian shit: wet, slushy, icy, snowy, rainy, muddy cobblestones. JPN-just plain nasty. As usual, the attacks came early & often, and always under the worst conditions.

I hear it's a little warmer out in the mountains...

Speaking of which, we are staging an alternate Super Bowl Sunday event. Something local, something simple. I can't see H'burg being rideable, or even drivable. If it was, I would be skiing right now.

Suck it up, Roy

Rooster's mountain kin the Hokies took the defending National Champs to B'ball school last night. 74-70. Hells yes! So if you went to Carolina or you like Carolina or you are from Carolina or your name happens to be Caroline, SUCK IT UP! Your team is just not that good this year. I know, I know, rebuilding year, blah, blah, blah... Still feels good to beat on ya. It's a rebuilding year in Haiti too, they don't take much consolation in it.

Getting Started...

I guess it's presumptive to think that anybody gives a rat's ass, but I discovered this bloggy tool and I thought I'd give it a try. Good way to get the gospel of Foghorn out there, I guess, and to advertise the events. Also a clear indication of the amount of snow currently on the ground, and me spending way too much time on the computer.

Logged about 30 miles on the snow bike over the long weekend, and I must say it gave me a thorough shagging. Training with Antawne Van der Weide (right), Dutch Snowcross National Champion, didn't help either. Nearly died (twice) getting this shot. Made my own snow tires, you can see how to make your own here:

http://www.dirtragmag.com/blogarific/bicycle-ice-racing-toronto-style/

I actually had them in production before I saw the article, honest. Be forewarned, I went the non-tubeless route (old slick tire for liner and thorn proof tubes just in case) plus 100 screws per tire, and they are heavy. A lot of torque to get those babies moving, rotational mass & all that being what it is. Incomparable on the slick ice though.

So hopefully we'll be able to keep it all together, share a few stories, a few pics, and a few beers. I can bitch about work, family, the wife (sorry dear), etc. and nobody really has to listen. You can chime in and say whatever the hell you like.

Mark the calendar, save the date, change your plans, do whatever you gotta do. Ferry-Roubaix, April 10.

Cheers!