Ashokan 100 - Disco Italiano

With the summer officially here the MRC decided there was no better time to christen the blog with the a non non-race, the Ashokan 100. Shortly after arriving at the new MRC HQ (Provident Bank in Kerhonkson)  Braveheart, the newest landed gentry/gentlemen farmer, and I set about translating the topo maps to determine the best course for the day. No sooner had we completed the translation then Chinaman Sal (fresh from another excursion to Taiwan) arrived with the latest 2013 carbon prototype from one of the big manufacturers. We all became a bit concerned when Top Chef was late for the roll out, it turns out he had broken a spoke the day before on a ride with Mrs. TC and had to swap out the wheel set and cassette at the last minute. Well it was some package and when he arrived Kate Hudson who had been hanging with Lance and the Trek marketing team) tossed aside Lance's latest Trek Mardone and broke into this routine -

And as you can see from this shot of TC's machine it was pure Cinema Italiano/Disco Italiano.

Total Disco Italiano

Once the excitement died down and we managed the final course translation it was time to roll. Mounting up I found this poor child who had clearly escaped the clutches of the priest at the church next door.

Well being a good citizen I scooped the poor child up and stuffed him in my jersey pocket. Being a good citizen was worth squat as 3 miles down the road it sounded like a .357 magnum going off after which I rolled to a stop with this -

Fear not as Braveheart broke out the incredible thing (iPhone) and located the nearest bike shop and Top Chef and Chinaman Sal made the dash for salvation. With time ticking by Braveheart broke out the Clif Egg Rolls and we settled down for the count, the 3 revolution count that is. The objective to get the valve stem to rotate 3 times and no more, as you can see from this clip it didn't take much to entertain us.

The bike shop was closed - go figure, who closes a bike shop on the Sunday of a 3 day weekend - but fear not as Sal remembered he had a box of tires in the back of the car - earning him the coveted MRC Harden the Fuck Up bracelet.

His speedy arrival ensured that Braveheart and I would be able to continue the ride. In fact so inspired was our Scotsman that he took several long "powered by excitement" pulls before the mushroom cloud appeared. Surviving the short back road climbs we were treated to this fantastic view of both bikes and natural beauty.

From here it was a long stint of pace line riding before we hit the rollers where Sal and C-Dubbs pushed the pace to Grace, the best espresso stop on any MRC ride (and trust me if anyone knows good espresso strops it is the MRC). Jacked up on copious amounts of fine Italiano espresso it was the express train down 213 and past our other favorite HQ, Hopheads craft beer bar. From here it was the back roads to the Accord swimming hole and we knew that relief from the heat was close at hand when we rolled up on this MILF with child, sadly the swimming hole had masses of fast food munching types that should have thought twice about showing up in a swimsuit.

Arriving Braveheart took the time to take off his cleats before plunging in while I opted for just removing the jersey and jumping in. Cooled off we made a bee line for the parking lot and the pleasure of some fine yeasty malted beverages.
While all of this was going on a new friend of the MRC and supplier of the latest Colnago to the club was holding the West Coast version of a non race - the Tallboy 100. And most amazing was that Justin (in the cheese jersey) was one of the founding fathers of Team Seagal as we can see from this shot of the infamous salute.

One of the founding fathers of Team Seagal gives the salute

 Now Calvin and company like to take it to an extreme that even the MRC/NECS have only achieved at Beer Cross. Drinking was a part of the ride and by the time the boys rolled back into the Bay Area the final tally was amazing - 6 Anchor Summer Beers, 6 21st Amendment IPAs, 12 Bud Lights and 6 Boont Ambers. They also stopped by at Uncle Larry's place to get an attitude adjuster. Perhaps this is the NWCS (New West Coast Syndicate) and there will have to be a uniting of the biker gangs.

Calvin - Tallboy 100 organizer

Welcome

Well all of you loyal fans of the NECS, with the imminent retirement from racing coming faster then a hot kiss at the end of a wet fist, it was time to turn the focus to the Top Chef project - Millionaires Riding Club. The collective board of directors - CEO Top Chef, CFO C-Dubbs and CIO Braveheart, will be spinning tales of glory and debauchery as we roll along the roads of Ulster and Sullivan counties. Stay tuned as we post the adventures of this elite group of non elitists and ramble on about bikes, beer the ancient scriptures of the far east.

Tour of the Battenkill

It's spring classics season in Europe and we here on the New East Coast have an annual right of passage known as the Tour of the Battenkill. One day a year the normally peaceful village of Cambridge, NY is turned into the mecca of road/dirt racing with all of the teams out strutting their stuff and massive amounts of MRC style bikes rolling through the streets. The NECS/MRC were sending a field of storm troopers, covering the classes from U35 to 45+, with most of the characters being veterans of the Bear Mountain Beatdown. Top young gun in the U35 would be Mike "Spring Classics" McConnell (aka fancy shoes) with Tom the Hobo Slayer intending to decimate the field with the climbing prowess he has displayed in the early season training rides. Of course attempting to remember how ride a bike and bring shades of glory to the older set were the dynamic duo of Top Chef and C-Dubbs (with his new Ti hip making it's race debut). Sadly Braveheart was unable to make the event instead closing on a spread of land that is destined to be the new home of Beer Cross.

Arriving at the Hacienda de Top Chef we immediately set about translating the profile of the course over a bowl of blueberry kush granola. The conclusion - it was going to hurt, plain and simple - lots of dirt road sections and countless steep climbs over the similar terrain. Along for the race was the newest member of the MRC, Eyegor, famous for his wandering eye (and not in the lady sense but in the Shanghai gallery sense)Eyegor is a veteran of the Top Chef MRC/NYC Central Park morning rides and decided that it was time to pop his cherry on the road racing scene - nothing like choosing the "Queen of the Spring Classics" (perhaps the only thing dumber was C-Dubbs doing the W101 for his first mtb race). Piling into the TC Assault FJ and with no idea where we were going (what a surprise), we turned to our good friend Serge, the alternative lifestyle road buttie voice from Tom Tom.

Knowing our destination would have oodles of men in spandex we were confident that Serge would get us there, having just as strong a desire to be there as we did but for different reasons.

Well the weather was perfect, the bikes were hot but we all noted that the chicks on bikes (you recall how much we appreciate chicks on bikes)) were hotter then ever. Gone are the old days of the East German nut crackersreplaced instead by the sexy French Canadian wonder women.Not nearly as sexy but making a welcomed appearance was none other then Bill Lobster, rolling around the streets on the classic Bottechia, despite having a terrible winter with 10 broken ribs, a cracked pelvis and a few other malfunctioning parts.

Top Chef preps for battleC-Dubbs ready to rollAll I can say is thank the Gods and Allah that there is a neutral zone at the start of the race, albeit a short one. No sooner did the car signal an open course then the hammer went down and went down hard. Just as Top Chef experienced in his grouping the pace was immediately up to 30 mph and the entire group was strung out like it was a chase to catch the breakaway near the finish and not the start of the race.Well we stayed, as Paul Sherwin would say, "on the rivet" right up to the first climb of the day. Following the advise of Top Chef I stayed on the front and crested in second place, well positioned for the ensuing descent and pace line to follow. Well that plan worked to perfection until about 2 miles later when we came to a wall of dirt that shattered both me and the pack.I was left wondering if I could even make it without getting off, definitely well into the red zone at this point. With no one around I suffered in silence and hoped that the carnage behind would reassemble itself and sweep me up into a nice pace line. Well it did, but not until almost 18 miles of slogging into the wind across dusty dirt roads which felt just like this -The pace line lasted all of 6 miles and when we turned onto a mild dirt climb suddenly explosions went off all around and it was just one other rider and myself navigating the soft dirt sections. Finally back out on the asphalt I came up on the most feared rider of all, the wheel sucker, and this guy was the king of them. No matter how many times I pulled to the side there was no way he was taking the lead. I gave up, let him ride me like the bitch that I was until the last climb when he started to ride away. I was pissed and wasn't about to roll over and play dead, sucking it up I rode him down and on the final pitch hammered it over the crest and down the backside for the final 5 km flat run in to the finish. With forearms on the bars I did a TT to the finish and managed to catch one last rider in the final 50 meters, crossing the line in 12th with nothing left in the tank. In fact I must have looked so spent that Top Chef, who was waiting, had concerns for my health and immediately pumped me full of some herbal amphetamine drink so I could ride back to the car. The final tally for the crew was -

Mike "Spring Classics" McConnell - U35 Blue 10th @ 3:10:08

Hobo Slayer - 35+ Yellow 19th @3:25:06

Muttonchops - 35+ Yellow 35th @ 3:55:00

Eyegor - 35+ Yellow 38th @ 4:00:03

Top Chef - 45+ White 21st @ 3:32:50

C-Dubbs - 45+ Blue 12th @ 3:26:01

Serge provided guidance to the walking dead and soon we were on the highway actively translating the route directions for a dinner bash at The Country Inn, a fine establishment near Casa de Top Chef. Well the old Top Chef was feeling no pain and despite being just miles from home he was unable to locate the turn off to food nirvana. Finally in the parking lot it was going to be a 30 minute wait for the table so it was time to belly up to the bar and start the consumption of fine yeasty malted beverages and the house speciality, horseradish vodka shots (aka liquid cocaine). Well these babies took any edge off the pain in our legs and no sooner had the shot glasses hit the table then Braveheart appeared at our side with Kate and her family in tow. Being the new land baron in town Braveheart was fast establishing ties with the local watering hole and after dropping Kate and Co. back at the house he had the Audi doing double time to get back to the bar for a round with the boys.

By this time we had managed to get a table and order but after a couple of fly-bys with trays of food for other diners I felt like I could eat the table.When the food did hit the table it was like an attack by the Romansand my burger was gone in 3 bites followed by most of the fries before I went into a red meat trance. Eyegor and Top Chef were close behind and it was off to TC's place for a hot tub session, Deviant Dales and some of the best homemade strawberry ice cream. With the clocks passing the midnight hour I headed down to the sofa and an ibuprofen/percoet night of bliss.

Bear Mountain Beat Down

I owe an apology to all of you that wait for each enticing post with the same enthusiasm as fans of Harry Potter and the iPad, but a new job has kept my focus in another dimension rather then here. Well it seems like an eternity since our taint, leg and lung crushing ride to Hunter Mountain but we have not been idle here at the NECS/MRC. In fact the troops have been revving up the engines for our spring classic - Tour of the Battenkill - a 100k race with numerous sections of dirt roads (hey the early pioneers in America couldn't afford the Pave of their Euro counterparts and thus made do with dirt pounded to hardness of asphalt).

With a 9:00 roll out things were getting tense in the Top Chef FJ as the incredible thing (iPhone) was not proving to be the most adept at locating the parking lot. Arriving, we were greeted to cheers from the 13 strong contingent that it was a navigational error and not Alzheimer's that had caused the 2 senior citizens of the ride to be late for the party, and oh what a party-o-pain Young O'Connell and Obamador had cooked up for the group.

Setting off through town and inflicting less fear into the locals then the Hells Angelsbut more then a pack of kids on their Big Wheelsas we plunged down to the river's edge where everyone stopped (since we would be riding through the West Point military academy) and unholstered our "weapons" and fired off the MRC version of a 21 gun salute.This would prove to be the last feel good moment for quite some time as we remounted and immediately hit the climbs of sheer destruction. Young O'Connell was looking to peak for Battenkill and the climbs he planned to serve up we the closest (and from what I could recall from the last Battenkill a lot harder) in leg shattering and lung busting departments. It was spring time and the summit guppies were out in full force and at the summit we opened our personal spinal taps and whipped up some oh so good lactic acid milk shakes for good measure. A fast descent of the backside, through a tunnel of total darkness and it was up the backside of 9w where evidence of misguided youth lay in the gutter of the road.And so hard was the pace being set by Young O'Connell and Obmaador that not a single one of the UN translators (and there were many) paused to even consider adding this fine Venetian glass translator to their jersey pockets. There was a brief moment of consideration to turn back and save the lost child but the prospect of a multi mile descent amongst the cars at 50 mph was too appealing to resist. With brake pads reaching temps only experienced by Icarus on his flight to the sun we finally reached the very bottom and faced the summit climb of Bear Mountain. Here the group shattered as the high speed ascendors took time to empty out and minimize climbing weight while the shell shocked clan started the grind. Once again it was Young O'Connell and Obamador ripping up the asphalt and spirits of the pack, arriving at the summit to scout out this choice location for a group shot.Bear Mountain can put the hurt on going up but the reward coming back down is one of the best in the region. Over the series of high speed sweepers C-Dubbs put all of the techniques Braveheart revealed on the Hunter ride to good use and raced Paul LeTour to the bottom. Paul noted that on the descent the Enve 65 carbon rear wheel on the IF revealed my every intention when dropping into bigger gear for the sprint.

Demoralized and brow beaten after 3 big climbs we made the turn for home only to learn that YO'C and Obamador were in the mood to dole out pain like candy on Halloween and we were off on another mind numbing ascent. Finally at the top a few of the troops failed to show after we had finished our lactic acid shakes so the master's of pain were sent back down the hill to drag home the wounded.

As the crow flies we were only a few miles from the finish but this was predicated on taking the West Point short cut and with a US Army half marathon underway for the grunts it took a lot of pleading with the state troopers and military police to let us use the course to get home and stave off the vultures circling at the summit of the 9W climb that was our only other option. Rolling into the parking lot, taints totally annihilated and spirits broken we headed for burgers and fine yeasty malted beverages only to discover the beer supply was tapped out!

Chinaman 100

Well sports fans and avid cyclists, the NECS/MRC Non Race series is officially underway with the Chinaman 100 in the books. In keeping with the international theme of the non race the course was just over 100 kilometers as opposed to the American standard of 100 miles.

Braveheart arrived at the NECS HQ the night before to find Mr & Mrs. C-Dubbs in full party mode and pretty much in the bag. Never one to shy away from a good time our fearless Scotsman joined into the fray with all the gusto we know him for. We were all excited as the non race day conditions were calling for sunshine and temps in the mid 60s – very fung shui for the month of March especially when you recall last year at this time.

Morning dawned with severe fog warnings, made even more severe for Braveheart after translating the course map and directions, but clearing conditions for later in the day. With fingers crossed, our belles full from Bethquitos (a variant of the infamous Team Seagal braquito) and our Farmer’s Almanac in hand we headed out for drive to the starting point at the Ashokan Resevouir. Anxious to put his driving skills to the test Braveheart had the A3 revved up and was ready to heat up the asphalt over the twisting back roads only to be frustrated by a continual stream of soccer moms and horse trailers. None of this deterred us from being the first to arrive thus allowing Braveheart to make a final translation of the course route.

Rolling out of the parking lot the numbers were very light with the fog putting a damper on the participation. MacGyver was nursing the binky, Fat Chick on the beach in Florida, Infantile Tom at yet another “tent sale”, Obamador joining Mikesquatch as MIA, Muttonchops in Taiwan and Senor Agua in search of snowy ski slopes. Top Chef and Hobo Slayer immediately moved to the lead and set a crisp pace to the base of the feared grinder – the 10 mile slog to Hunter Mountain.As we started the ascent the damage from last year’s storms was evident with temporary sections of road and a large steel bridge washed from its foundation.Regrouping after a series of steep short pitches near the bottom we were warned by a toothless local hag to watch out for the speeding 18 wheelers carrying large boulders (when was the last time you saw a loaded semi “speeding “ up a 15 degree hill?). Fearing that she was sizing up the group for possible life of sexual slavery we remounted and set off for the summit with Top Chef, Hobo Slayer and Paul Le Tour leading the pain train while C-Dubbs and Braveheart were off the back. Always one to be prepared for anything that might happen, Braveheart showed his Tibetan Sherpa roots hauling the pack of supplies for the team to the top.Once over the summit we choo-chooed the man train over the rollers for the descent of 23A through the Kaaterskill Wild Forest. For those that have not made this descent (and this was cherry popping time for me) it is one of the fastest and scariest sections of road with straight sections linked by slight kinks that suddenly become hairpin turns on asphalt soaked from waterfalls. Sherpa Braveheart put on a demonstration that left yours truly in awe, quickly moving from the back to the front and disappearing from sight with only melted asphalt as a reminder that he was still out there.

Hobo Slayer and C-Dubbs, both from the tribe of lesser descending skills, arrived at the base to find Braveheart refreshed, rested and looking like a man that had enough time to enjoy a cocktail while waiting for his mates. Rolling along we suffered a true Chinaman moment at one intersection where no one had any idea what was going on or where to go. With directions sorted we made a pit stop at this “theme establishment” where we caught this candid moment.Making the final turn for home C-Dubbs encountered shifting issues (gee what a surprise)while Braveheart was beginning to show the strains of hauling a massive load up the mountain. Losing the middle range of gears I watched as TC, HS and PLT made the break for the infamous MRC espresso stopwhere Braveheart rolled in a broken man.

Jacked on some most excellent java we spun out the final couple of miles to the finish at the Ashokan and another successful NECS/MRC non race.From there is was off to race organizer Top Chef’s casa for fine yeasty malted beverages, hot dogs and hot tubs. Next up on 7/7 – Grand Fondo!