Cyclepaths/Wild Cherries Racing

This article was originally published in the Friday August 28th 2009 edition of the Lake Tahoe paper, the Sierra Sun.

As the nights get a little cooler, precious moisture fills the air and settles into the moon dust " and more importantly, our trails become ideal for knobby adventures on our fabled single-track, much of which is largely unknown and coveted.

If you've been starving yourself of riding mountain bikes this summer, spending the majority of your time on pavement huddled in tight packs of type-A's watching your training numbers and the like, mix it up by dusting off your mountain bike and hang on for single-track bliss in your own back yard.

Recently, I road the Emigrant on my single speed, ditched the heart-rate monitor and was instantly reminded why I call Truckee home. The close proximity to endless epic riding exists in every neighboring community, and with little effort you can link trail after trail for an all-out, top-of-your-lungs WAHOO!

The fall season in Tahoe is the most sought-after time to hit the dirt if you've saved enough gas in the tank from all the wonderful summer activity that life in the area affords us. Join me on the trails among the whistling chickadees, soaring hawks and mountain bikers. Fall trail riding should not be missed.

Tear out the top-five checklist below and take advantage of the calm times by rolling out of your garage on a different type of adventure " one you will hold close to your heart as the snow begins to fall:

1. Ditch the car and ride from your garage. There are single-track routes from almost every neighborhood in Truckee. With a little tire -track spotting and adventurous sense, you can find amazing trails. Get out there and create your own Homerun right from your garage. Or, if you have your routes dialed in, share one with your neighbors.
2. Work on your skills: Find a nice lawn (the middle school will work) and pedal over it wearing normal shoes. Ride on the lawn and learn how to pop a wheelie or perfect your wheelie prowess. This will dramatically improve your balance, and bike-handling awareness. Also, it will make that pesky little log-crossing that much easier and enjoyable.
3. Ride your bike to the office or job site once per week. OK, most of us have done this. But if not, do it, and organize your co-workers to meet you along the way. Call it Thank God It's Bike Fridays (TGIBF). Wear your Aloha shirts and don't forget your helmet. Helmets saved me and my teammates' lives this year, for real.
4. Don't miss our last fun, epic group ride of the year. Details are available at Cyclepaths Bike Shop or on the team bulletin outside of Wild Cherries Coffee House.
5. Ride high above town either on Hole in the Ground trail, Mt. Rose to Marlette Lake, Donner Rim Trail above TD or the Bob Watson Loop. Wildflowers are still blooming up high, and you can see a plethora of wildlife in the distance: bears, hawks and much more.

Follow my single track adventures or share your with me at twitter.com/chappawitz. I hope to see you on the trails; hopefully not on the road.

Team rider Matt Chappell is the author of this week's Cyclepaths/Wild Cherries Racing column. Cyclepaths/Wild Cherries Racing (www.cwcracing.org) is a Truckee-based cycling team focused on racing and local bike advocacy.

Rolling into the parking lot of King City's Keefer's Inn, on the way to San Ardo Road Race, my carpool mate, Zack Beekler, and I run into some of Zack's Penn Velo teammates. They're off to pre-ride the San Ardo course. Probably a good idea, but I say to Zack, "lets just chill in the room and watch a good Western."

We get in the room and I switch on the tube, and there it is! I don't even change a single channel, and "Lonesome Dove", starring Robert Duvall, without a doubt one of the finest Westerns ever made, is rolling. It's going to be a good weekend.

Robert Duvall in Lonesome Dove. Inspiring.

Just two CWC boys raced San Ardo, Ramsey, and myself, both recent Cat 3 upgrades. Ramsey stayed with the pack and was in good position coming into the finish, but burned his matches a little early and finished 25th in the E3's. I somehow managed a 4th place in a bunch sprint in the M55+1,2,3 race.

Thats the short, heres the long:

I debate about doing San Ardo, long drive, flat race, low probability of doing well. But my friend Zack is going, and he's driving so I think, well, it would be fun to roll down there together, talk s*&# on the way and have a little fun. And besides, I recently pulled off a 6th at Dunnigan Hills, also a sprinter's race, so I figure, who knows, maybe I can do something.

After watching a good part of Lonesome Dove, we walk across the parking lot at Keefer's to Laurence's Restaurant, joined by Zack's teammates, Mark and Eric. I'm skeptical about the place but they have a salad bar, and some good specials. We all order specials. Mark, Eric, and I go with the Salmon Special, while Zack steps up to Prime Rib. Zack's Prime Rib is a good 2 lbs. He shares with all and still has enough to pack his belly and make walking difficult after the meal.

We bed down early and Zack and I begin our second major farting contest. The first showdown was at Tioga Pass Resort a few years ago during a Winter ski tour. I'm a Cat 1 farter, trust me. But Zack is, like... Pro Tour. OK, Lets move on.

The lovely Keefer's Inn. This is before coffee.

We hit Starbuck's just as they open at 5:30 A.M. (I accidentally set my alarm 30 minutes too early), and we walk into Dennys with Starbuck's Coffee in hand, a classic move I've done more than once. The servers at Denny's seem to understand. It's unspoken, but they are not insulted when we don't order Denny's coffee.

We "build our own" Grand Slam then head off to the race. As we leave the restaurant, I hear the server tell Ramsey and Alanna for the second time, "I'll be with you in just a moment." I tell Ramsey and Alanna that I paid the server $10 to tell them 10 times that she'd be with them in 'just a moment'. We arrive early at the venue, so I doze in the car while Zack gets in his chamois.

We roll out of the start with two guys taking an immediate flyer. We work and reel 'em back in. This is to be the menu for the day. Attack after attack, followed by easy stretches, with everything being brought back. Brian Fessenden, a feared sprinter and one of the best and most experienced Master's riders on the circuit, tells me that breaks rarely stay away at San Ardo. I listen and dose my chasing accordingly. Brian eventually wins our race, not surprisingly.

During the second and final lap, the attacks increase in frequency and intensity. I know to position myself well going into the causeway before the finish climb/sprint. I grab Greg Bollela's wheel as we approach the finish climb. Same strategy that got me a 6th at Dunnigan Hills, another sprint race where I should not have done well on paper. I'm second wheel going into the finish climb when all hell breaks loose. Guys going everywhere, I just focus on trying to have a wheel and staying at the front. Top of the short hill is a left turn followed by a 150M sprint. I take the inside line and stand up to sprint. Brian Fessenden, Greg Bollela, and Mac Carey, three of the top BAR (Best All Around Riders) take off and I follow. They actually gap me a bit and I am pushing the wind. As I sprint toward the line it seems like slow motion. Surely a bunch of guys will come around me. But I persevere, keep the pressure on the pedals, turning the cranks over to Zack's cheers, and cross the line holding 4th place. Zack was laughing at the finish, wondering how the guy with skinny calves is mixing it up with the big sprinters. I have no answer except to say that if you ride smart and dig deep during the last few minutes of a road race, good things will happen.

The not so coveted San Ardo top 6 T-shirt

Here are my 3 tips learned from the weekend:

1. Rent the movie/mini series Lonesome Dove, settle in and watch amazing and inspirational performances from Robert Duvall and his supporting cast.
2. Do not get into a farting contest with Zack Beekler. You'll go down hard.
3. What happens in the first two hours of a road race means nothing. Remind yourself to dig deep during the last 10 minutes of the race. You'll be rewarded.

In case you've been living in a cave and haven't seen this, check it out, it's brilliant:

A wise, yet oddly strict man once shared a bit of wisdom with me,

"Choose your kills wisely, young one."

These words ring true in life, but are especially great in this crazy world of cycling. Of course, we can't go out killing people to win bike races

. So, I like to think of my racing season as a matchbook. There are only so many matches in a book, so it behooves one to wisely choose when and where those matches are burnt. Light a match in the wind, and it blows out like 'that'. Try to hold on to a single match for too long, and you burn your ass.

Another way to look at those words, one anology much more favorable in the eyes of my Master: the samurai sword. Special editors note: to have your life ended at the hands of a samurai sword is just as much an honor (and part of the cycle) as it is to end another warriors life. We all eventually die, right? The best way to cheat this truth is to keep your game and sword sharp as fuck. However, each kill at the hands of the samurai sword is an honor, and the blade must be cleaned (either by hand, or by a flick of the wrist in battle). Immediately following each battle, a sword must be sharpened and tended to , in the name of tradition and practicality.

Take what you will from this rant...

No, not that kind. But this post is about a dog attack. By that dog right there, my dog.

Every Monday we ride local trails together. This ride is not about training -- at least not for me -- he may have other ideas. Its about being outside w/ my dog and spinning my legs out a bit. I've sourced a route from my house with plenty of water and shade and views. There is a big swimming hole at the turnaround point that requires a little bushwhack off the trail. He always swims. Sometimes I do too.

Throughout the year he's learned the route. Conserving energy at times, letting it run at others. I watch him, he watches me. We talk. I try to see the route through the eyes of a dog (soft/shady single track good, exposed gravel bad). I ignore his feeding schedule and make sure he is hydrated and fed, especially around recovery. He tends to ditch his dog bed Monday nights and sleeps next to me on the floor.

So what about this dog attack. Well, typically he likes to trot a little behind pacing himself to me and probably avoiding some dust. He is an 80 pound dog -- in good shape but not one of these spindly run forever dogs. He is a great trail companion on foot or bike. He is sweet and non-aggresive -- in dog terms 'submissive'. Yesterday it all changed. Climbing home from the swimming hole he came around me . . . i picked up my pace a bit expecting him to go back . . . he looked back at me like Lance on the Alp and said what you got and away he went! My dog attacked! I gave a half-hearted chase but he wasn't having it. I could see the confidence and strength in his gait.

He'd put in his time and earned the right and was the lead dog going home. My dog's first, and best, attack.