A friend of mine – who happens to own a bike shop – once told me he doesn’t bother bringing his bike to Telluride because the riding just isn’t worth it. Last week, I headed to Telluride to prove him wrong, and in the process realized my definition of a stellar mountain bike trip is
Lumberjack 100 – I won! Breckenridge 100 – 2nd place to Leadville champ Larissa Connors Grizzly 100 – 2nd place (again) to Leadville champ Larissa Connors
Here’s the link to my Lumberjack 100 race report in MTB Race News. I love this race for three big reasons: It’s near the small town in northern Michigan where I grew up running and cross-country skiing. My dad (who used to be my running and ski coach) comes out to support me at the
Here’s the link to my Mohican 100 race report in MTB Race News.
The weather was exceptionally warm for April, and I intended to take full advantage of it. My plan was to ride a giant figure eight around Flagstaff – over 60 miles and 7,000 feet elevation gain – all on really fun singletrack. Around mile 35 I started up Little Bear, a steep trail on the
I had an out of body experience while standing under the Construction Zone team tent a few weeks ago at an MBAA race. The team manager asked me if I wanted to join a four-woman Old Pueblo team at the last minute. Without hesitation, and with a great deal of enthusiasm in my voice, I
Our route planning commenced the same as it usually does. I volunteered a route, Artec responded with zero active listening signs, which annoyed me, so when he suggested a route I intentionally chose not to listen. I drew part of a track I thought looked good, Artec (still not really listening), told me he didn’t
“Men still run the world; I’m not sure it’s going so well.” – Sheryl Sandberg Three days before Christmas I was driving Flagstaff’s party bike – the Alpine Pedlar – with a fake smile plastered on my face as the passengers sang and danced to Christmas music. Under layers of long underwear, fleece pants, and a
I picked myself up quickly, pedaled hard for a few strokes to gain some speed, and promptly clipped a pedal on a rock and flew over my handlebars – over the exposed edge of the trail – into a thicket of willows. It was like landing on a mattress! I peered over the edge of the willows and said a little prayer to the Goddess of Mountain Biking – it was steep!
My two teammates – both named Erin, both the youngest children in their families, both fairly quiet souls measuring 5’2 and weighing in at 103 pounds a piece – are capable of tooting cute little rainbows every once in awhile. I’ve witnessed it. But racing your bike all night long is disgusting business, and I