How I was injured by a Christmas tree...or...Quads of paper.

3 months.  That's how long it's been since I've last graced these pixelated pages with silly drivel.  I could give a whole bunch of excuses as to why I have not been on here, but the first step in being able to move forward is to forgive the past, so I'll just tell my story.

There was some seismic data recorded after this crash.

My story starts WAY back on December 11th.  Cyclocross season had just wrapped up the previous weekend and I had a decent season.  I didn't get lapped by the "fast guys" like Eppen, Colston or Carpenter, which was a success for me.  The final race wasn't as good for me, crashing on the first lap and spending the rest of the race playing catch-up, but that isn't the purpose of this story.

So, back to December 11th.  This Sunday found me getting up early, getting the Boy ready and heading to Terry Peak for a morning of skiing and snowboarding, then going into the woods on the return trip to cut down a Christmas tree.  We have been going to the Dalton Lake area for a Christmas tree since we came back to SD, so this day would be no different.   Dalton Lake is almost an hour drive from our house.  Remember this as it will be important later on.

The morning went well and we went to the lake area around 1pm.  As is my anal nature, I drive all the way to the lake, scoping out potential trees along the creek, making mental notes of "good" ones and then turn around and get the best one on the way out.  This day, we decided to go past the lake toward the Little Elk Creek trailhead, turn around there and work our way back out.  Just as we get to the spot where the road dead ends, we see two perfect trees down an embankment and across the creek.  We decide to go down and check them out.

As we get down to the creek, I start looking for a spot to cross as it is only partially frozen.  I see a rocky spot about 20 yards up the creek which should work.  We get there and I step out onto the rocks and think I can jump across to a little outcropping on the other side.  I realize that if I jump across, there is no way the Boy can make it, so I turn around to see if we can find a different way across.  As I step on the next rock with my right foot, which is covered with ice, I feel my foot slip away.  As it slides out to the right, now with my foot off the ground and pointing away from me, I feel the MOST EXCRUCIATING PAIN in my quad (thigh) I've ever felt in my whole life!  It felt like someone took a searing hot knife and cut across my leg, mid-thigh.  After it happened, I said it felt like I'd been shot, to which some fucking smart ass said, "Have you ever been shot?  So, how do you know?"  I wanted to trade places with that ass to see what they'd say.

The pain drops me to the jagged, icy rocks.  As I lay on the rocks, my mind races, "What the hell just happened?  Did I break my leg?  How am I gonna get out of here?"  If you know me at all, you probably know I am fairly stoic when it comes to pain, so when I tell you I was in SERIOUS pain, you have to understand it was almost, almost, to the point of being unbearable.  This whole event took just a few seconds, but as I looked up at the Boy, I could see the worry on his face.  I am trying to reassure him, and tell him I need to get up.  I can't even bend my leg right now without blinding pain, so getting up on jagged, ice covered rocks is almost impossible.  I finally bite the bullet and get up, but again the pain is too much and it makes me fall back to the ground, at least on the snow covered ground this time.  As I lay there the second time, I can see this is becoming very worrisome to the Boy and now my mind has gone only to focusing on getting him home safely.  But, being the awesome kid he is and utilizing his Cub Scout Readyman skills, he says to me, "Should I go to the truck and get your cell phone to call for help?  What do you want me to do?"  I reassure him to not worry and that everything will be OK, but I am really glad he was there.

After lying there for what felt like a half an hour, but in reality was only 3 or 4 minutes, the wave of pain had subsided enough that I felt like I could try getting up again.  The Boy helped me out getting to my feet, which was about as horrible pain as I could take.  Once on my feet, I found if I kept my right leg perfectly straight with all my weight on the bones I could peg-leg it like a pirate.  Now came the couple hundred yard hike back to the truck, with the last 10 yards or so up the embankment which was quite the chore.  My leg buckled a couple times and I thought I was going back down.

I get back to the truck and we get in.  Driving should be a challenge, operating the brake and gas with the injured leg.  We get turned around and start heading home, sans Christmas tree of course.  As we head down Nemo Road, we are frantically trying to call my Lovely, who is at an art show with her students and is NOT answering her phone.  Unfortunately, we can only call so often as there is very intermittent service along this road.  Add to this a couple cars pulling out in front of us, causing some very PAINFUL emergency braking and it all adds up to a long, LONG drive home.

Long story short, we drive the painful hour back to our house so I can go in and assess what the hell is going on.  I take my snowboard pants off and drop my base layer down to find my knee has grown a gut.  My quad is so swollen that it is hanging over my kneecap like a fat old man gut over the top of his jeans.  We need to get to the emergency room to make sure it isn't broken and to try and find out what the hell happened.  We continue to try and call my Lovely without success.  I bet we called her 20 times.  So, off to the Civic Center where we can go in and let her know to come to the emergency room.  I peg leg it into the room where the art show was being torn down.  We let her know that we're off to the ER and to come there when she's done.

Once at the ER, I get in fairly quickly and after an x-ray and some poking and prodding, the Dr. comes to the conclusion that I have torn my quad.  Of course their answer is to give me some pills to make the pain go away, which doesn't fix jack-shit.  I don't want pills, I want my leg fixed.  So, they wrap my leg up like King Tut and send me on my way with some super-expensive crutches, which I only used to walk out of the hospital and haven't touched since.

A couple of doctor appointments over the next few weeks have confirmed that original diagnosis and now I'm about 4 weeks into physical therapy.   Everything seems to be progressing well, as I am back riding my bike, swimming 3 times per week (which is another story) and back snowboarding.

And as for the Christmas tree?  Well, I felt pretty bad about the whole situation, feeling like it was all my fault we didn't have a tree less than 2 weeks before Christmas.  I initially said we'd just go get one at Boy's Club, but the next weekend we still didn't have a tree and still had a permit.  I said I was gonna go get the tree that caused all the damn trouble.  So we did.  We went in from the other side, so no creek crossings were involved.  With my leg wrapped tight and doing my best "Blackbeard" impersonation, I peg-legged it back into the woods with the Boy and my Lovely, showed her where the incident happened, and we got the tree.  And you know what?  It was the best Christmas tree we ever had.  And factoring in the ER, doctor and physical therapy caused by the tree, probably the most expensive one in the history of mankind.

Taking a time out...

Well, stuff has mellowed out quite a bit.  We made it through the Turkey Bingo night, which made us miss a Boy Scout function, but until cloning becomes affordable for the masses, I cannot be in two places at once, so ce la vie.  Then, one of the other things I failed to mention in the last post, we had our open house on Saturday at work.  It is an annual event, with this being the 14th run at doing this.  Oh, yeah, in addition to having a big event going on, because of the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday, we had to get our orders in on Saturday as opposed to the normal Tuesday order day, so OK, we'll have one more day of crazy shit.

And, I went ahead and decided to add to the chaos of the day by making sure the second I got off work at 2:00 pm, I raced home, changed into my plum-smugglers and jumped on my bike and raced down the street to Mary Hall park (only about 7 blocks from my house) for a cyclocross race.  Did I mention that it snowed about a foot from Friday night through Saturday afternoon?  No?  Well, it did.  First snow of the year and it was a good one.  Oh yeah, did I mention that it was only about 15 degrees outside as well?  No?  Well, add that to the mix as well.  Seems like a perfect day for a cross race.

I really was looking forward to the cross races this year.  I did my first CX race a couple years ago and I got hooked.  But, I was painfully slow.  The last two seasons, I had a good race if I didn't get lapped twice by the fast guys (thankfully or maybe not, our races are so small that no one is getting pulled for getting lapped) and lapped by the whole field once.  Yep, pretty pathetic, but for whatever reason, I liked getting out there and doing it.

Fast forward to this year and I'm riding quite a bit better.  I went into the first race saying just don't get lapped, but things went way better.  Duking it out with other riders for position, not getting lapped (well, I did a couple times this year, but because of other circumstances) and chasing other guys down make for a cross race that is a LOT more fun!

Carpenter with just shorts on in 15 degrees.

So, I went and rode around a circle for about an hour, acting like a little kid with a dozen or so other nut jobs.  And, much like the Dakota Five-O, if your last name wasn't Eppen, you didn't win, but really it was OK as, except for a few guys, the rest of us know we're not gonna win and with the conditions, I don't think anyone really cared all that much.  The race was a GREAT time but by the time I got home, the chaos of the week coupled with flogging my ass for an hour caught up with me and I was whipped.  A night of couch surfing watching a movie with my lovely was all I could muster for the night.

Jim making the run up look easy.

As it goes with our little local FREE race series (put on by the great guys at ACME Bicycles), since the course is already marked on Saturday, we have a 3:00 pm race on Saturday and then a 10:00 am race on Sunday, then the racers help tear the course down afterwards, helping keep it free.  So, we had another race on Sunday morning.  I woke up at about 6:30 and I wasn't feeling it at all and I literally said to myself I wasn't going (talking to myself should have been the first sign things weren't right with me).

Me looking kinda racy.

A couple cups of coffee later (OK, about 4 cups, but whatevs) I had the courage to go and do yet another race.  Besides, it was a balmy 26 degrees outside and with the race being so close to home, it would have been far more painful to me to NOT go than it would be to go (did you follow that convoluted logic?).  Yet again, if your name wasn't Eppen you didn't win, but once again, it didn't really matter to anyone there.  It was all about having a good time, keeping some sort of semblance of fitness going for the holidays and duking it out with some other riders for a while.

There will be (possibly) one more CX race this season in a couple weeks then it will be probably time to put the bikes up for the winter.  Oh sure, there will be the occasional ride on a nice winter day, but for the most part, the bike season will be over and it will be time for snowboarding.  Oh yeah, and it will be time for morning roller sessions on the bike.  I don't feel like I've got enough to do and I've gotta start getting ready for next season.

Coming up for air...

So, I've been a very neglectful of this blog for the last couple months, but really, I've been so busy I haven't had a chance to come up for air, much less sit down and spew a bunch of bullshit out of my skull that no one cares about or wants to read.

All sorts of crap has gone on since my last post.  Road bike races, a LOT of fun riding in probably most beautiful fall we've seen in a decade, cyclocross racing (which is still going on and may be a soon upcoming post) have been a big part of the lack of posting, which is a good thing, but not the main reason.

No, the other stuff in life is what happening.  First, the Boy decided to join Boy Scouts this year.  Which, unbeknownst to me, meant I joined Boy Scouts.  Seems like there is a meeting at least once a week, but more often than that there is some sort of event each week in addition to a den/pack meeting in addition to him becoming a professional shill for Orville Redenbacher and the evil GMO-corn giants like Monsanto and selling popcorn.  I am super glad he's doing it and having a good time doing it, but at least I should get some sort of badge for time management or for supporting the economy by buying all that gas or wearing out my truck running him all around.

Second, PTA.  Which should be PiTA (pain in the ass).  You see, my Lovely was the PTA president last year and I was the secretary and all was good and just and right with the world.  Then, she went on and got a new teaching job and said she couldn't be the president again.  So, LOOONNNG story short, we pulled a Freaky Friday and now she's the secretary and I AM the president.  And, she is helping me WAY more than I helped her as the secretary, but none the less, it is taking far too much of my time.  BUT, this is going to come to a messy, glorious head this week.  Our big fall event, Turkey Bingo, is this Thursday night and then I won't have to think about PTA so much.

So, yeah, bitch, bitch, whine, whine.  I've got stuff to do.  Just like 350 million other Americans.  But, unlike the other 98 or so others that don't have a blog, I'm gonna tell you about it again.  Real soon.  I hope.  Before it starts snowing and snowboard season starts and the Boy joins ski team and I start my AM work outs and start a swimming program with Eric and...

A Recap: The Dakota Five-O

A week ago today, the 11th Annual Dakota Five-O took place.  Shit-tons of blogs have given their recaps of what happened, who won (coincidentally if your last name wasn't Eppen, you probably didn't win) with photos and the like.  Hell, I had a race summary going, but I wasn't feeling it AT ALL.  I mean really, who in their right mind wants to read the whining ramblings of a mid-pack 40 year old? "First I rode over a rock, then my t'aint hurt, then I had to eat something, whaa-fuckin'-whaa."  No one, that's who.  So, I changed it up and here is my report for the rapid-fire, short attention span world we live in.

I had high (or higher) expectations for this year's edition.  I had kinda trained and after last year's debacle, I knew it wouldn't be worse.  And, it was my best year ever.  Took almost an hour off of my time from two years ago (the last good race I had) but still left plenty of room for improvement.  I raced my Stumpy 29'er hardtail, which I don't really know if it was a benefit.  I mean, I had a GREAT first half of the race, which is mostly up and had a shittier second half of the race, which was more down.  I could attribute it to needing more longer rides on that bike, or it could be that I am flippin' old and a hardtail beats the shit out of me.

Some details of the day. 

My tenderized drumstick

• It was down right COLD to start the day, with frost on the ground in areas of the race course, which was fine with me.  Being a bit, ahem, hirsute, I welcome the cooler weather.  
• The course was in primo shape, although by the time I came through areas like Dakota Ridge, it was getting a bit chewed up from a couple hundred people rolling through before me.  
• I did have a bit of an accident in Krangle Connection which was just a lapse of concentration on my part, especially considering all the work the Ridge Riders did on the trail.  Zigged when I should have zagged and I fell and went boom.  A bit disconcerting when you fall down, the rider behind you is shouting "man down, man down" and when you get up and pull your bike off the trail, like 10 guys go zooming past.  A bit disconcerting because at with over 600 entrants out there you'd think that'd be the norm and yet, there were times when I couldn't see anyone ahead of me or behind me.  
• Have I ever mentioned that I love the new location of the Bacon Station?  For those that don't know, the BS is an "aid" station where you can get bacon and some PBR (Pabst Blue Ribbon).  It used to be in a location where you had to climb immediately afterwards, so drinking some PBR made for a tough climb.  Now it is at the beginning of Dakota Ridge and you go down (at least for a bit) so slamming some PBR and eating a slice of salty pork goodness is, well, a beautiful thing...which I did.  Did it cost me some time?  Sure.  Was it worth it?  Absolutely.
•  Did I talk about nipples?  No?  Well, I have an issue with my nipples and chaffing on my jersey, so I covered them with New Skin.  Did it help?  Nope.  I'm sitting here with chaffed nipples right now.  Why the fuck do men have them?  Don't need 'em at all.
• My wife and son are incredible support people.  Meeting me exactly where I wanted, when I wanted.  The best.
• As I mentioned, I had my best year ever.  5:37, which is almost an hour faster than I've ever done it before.  But hell, almost all the Ramblers had a personal best day.  The cool weather, the trail conditions and a summer of kickin' the shit out of each other equalled a great ride for almost everyone!
• Finally, I would be remiss if I didn't mention Perry Jewett and the Ridge Riders (the group that put on the race).  This race is always really well run, with Perry learning from each year and making changes for the better for the following season.  I kinda expected a bit of chaos at the end with having well over 600 riders, but there wasn't any.  It was GREAT!  Super awesome food, great beer, music, and times getting put up quickly.  Kudos the the Ridge Riders for such a great event!           

Well, there you go.  I was fairly beat after the ride and was glad it was over.  And now I am planning for next year.  I've still got a little time to play with, although taking yet another hour off might be a bit much.

Dakota Five-O and Stubbornness

Here we are at the end of the summer (school started Monday around here) with the Dakota Five-O looming just a few days away, a capper on a summer of riding your ass off.

There might just be some climbing in this race...

I pre-rode the course on Sunday, which is the first time in 4 years I've ever pre-anything the Five-O.  Having grown up in Spearfish, I have ridden all those trails and didn't think I needed to or more importantly, wanted to.  All that changed this year and I not only felt like I should pre-ride, I wanted to flog my sorry ass on this course.  Not only would pre-riding it give me an idea of how next Sunday will go, but I also wanted to see how I would fare riding a hardtail on the course.  The climbs would be good, but would I be able to keep the pace up on the descents?  Would the pros outweigh the cons?

Well, I decidedly cannot descend the same on my Stumpy 29'er HT as I can on my full-squish 5" travel Moots Cinco.  But, I think that the effort I expend on the climbs is no where near lost on my descents, so I am coming out ahead.  I am planning for my best Five-O yet, which isn't saying a lot as my 3 other efforts have been, well, let's just say I finished.  And NO mechanical issues this year.

Which leads me into stubbornness.  All cyclists, well all cyclists that tinker with their bikes, have this phenomenal trait.  If we want something to work, we are going to go to great lengths to make it work.  Wanna use Shimano shifters with Sram derailleurs?  There are adapters to make this work.  A 5" travel fork on a bike designed for 3"?  You can do it, you bike will steer like a wheelbarrow, but you can and you will.   Case in point, tires for my 29'er.  When Knobby Nick told me he had some Schwalbe Racing Ralphs for sale, I jumped on it.  A fast rolling 2.4" tire is just what I needed to take the edge off for the race.  I slapped 'em on the Stumpy and immediately noticed there was about a pubic hair's clearance between the rear tire and the front derailleur.  And it all should have ended right there.  But NO, I had to get a different front derailleur, return it and get yet another different front derailleur which has about a 7 pube clearance, futz with it adjusting it and readjusting and readjusting it to get the right clearance between the granny gear and the shift mechanism. Yep that should do it I thought and I was victorious.  Don't take no for an answer.

And it did until about 4 miles into our 43 mile ride Sunday I broke a spoke and every time I shifted into the granny ring the tire would drag on the inner plates of the front derailleur.  When it first happened I thought about the ways I could fix the problem so I could run the tires.  Really?  What a stupid ass I am.  Finally my logical part of my brain whipped the emotional part of my brain's ass on the Ballpark climb, which is about 30 miles into the ride and the longest portion of granny gear riding, at least for my sorry ass.  Having that drag on each pedal stroke gave me seizure inducing flashbacks to last year's Five-O debacle with the dragging lock ring.  There was NO CHANCE IN HELL that I was going to endure that shit again.  So the RR is coming off the back of the bike and the old tire is going on.  Even if I break another spoke, it won't be rubbing on the derailleur.

Of course, maybe I should leave it on there.  If it is on there I have an excuse...reason...ahem, um, well you know, in case I have a bad race.

Leadville Trail 100 Support Crew Survivor's Guide

Leadville 100.  The name of this race simultaneously strikes fear and excitement in the hearts of mountain bikers everywhere.  This race has turned into a media circus and a behemoth beyond compare thanks to disgraced roadie Floyd Landis, some guy named Lance and Levi Leipheimer all coming in and tearing the field up and creating way too much interest in a 100 mile mountain bike race.

At the end of 2010 a group of friends decided to get into the lottery for Leadville.  Yes, for those of you that don't know there is a lottery with a fee of $30 just to get a chance to get into Leadville, which will cost you an additional $275 if your name is drawn.  What kind of lottery is that?  Usually when I think of a lottery, I think of actually winning something, not losing $275 just to win 10+ hours of pain and suffering.  When I was asked to sign up with them, I said "no way, I might just get in."  Which is exactly what happened to two of them.  And it was a perfect pick as the two that got in, Cleaver and Al, have been best of friends since they were kids so it was appropriate that they went to suffer together.

Fast forward to August 2011.  Time for the actual race and we (my lovely, the Boy and I) decide to take a little family vacation, go to Leadville and support the guys, so without further ado, here is my survivor's guide to crewing at Leadville.  Bookmark this sombitch and refer to it when someone in your riding group gets all wonky and decides that it would be a good idea to sign up for Leadville and you're going to crew for that knothead.

1. Lodging: It's really going to depend on what you're wanting for accommodations.  If you want a hotel room, the SECOND you find out if you're in, book a room.  Hell, book a room as soon as you put in for the lottery and cancel it when you find out if you're in or not.  If you wanna camp, then by probably May you need to make a reservation.  We had neither and it worked out, but it was sheer dumb luck. The guys saw a small apartment for rent that they called and were able to get it for $100 per night.  We went to a campground and were able to get some overflow camping, which worked out pretty well, but, as I said, was complete luck.

2.  The start of the race: The race starts at 6:30 am.  You need to see this start as there is NOTHING like it in cycling, much less mountain biking.  It took 10-15 minutes after they said "GO" for all the riders to come across the area we were watching from.  You need to have all your shit ready to roll, in your car and as soon as you see your guys/gals roll across the line, you need to high-tail it to your car and bust ass to the first aid station.  Where that first aid station is depends on your previous night's planning.

3. Aid stations:  There are multiple aid stations on the course, all of which are used twice (once on the way out and once on the way back).  Depending on your riders, you might need to go to the Pipeline aid station, but probably just to the Twin Lakes aid station, which is at the 40 and 60 mile mark.  Either way, preparation the night before is a must.  You need to have an EZ-Up style tent and go to Twin Lakes the night before to stake your claim, which is appropriate in this former mining community.  So, Twin Lakes on Friday night, preferably with your racers so they have an idea of where you're at, set up your tent, have it lowered down to lay claim to space at this crucial aid station.  Obviously, we did NOT do this and we had to beg/borrow/steal a 2' wide piece of land between two tents.  We were there with no shade at 10,000', which is why my nose is still peeling right now.

A nice view from Twin Lakes

With land claimed at Twin Lakes, you're free to go to Pipeline first.  Just know if you do, immediately after your riders come through Pipeline you need to boogie to Twin Lakes as it isn't that far (13 miles) for the racers and they turn those miles fairly quickly.  So, back at Twin Lakes, having a wagon or a bike with a B.O.B. trailer would make a LOT of sense as you can't drive to the area where your EZ-Up is located and lugging coolers, chairs, food, gear to this point is a pain in the ass and if you have to make more than one trip, you might miss your racers if you went to Pipeline.

Once your riders have gone through TL, you can relax for a couple hours at least before they come through TL the second time.  If your riders want you to go back to Pipeline have your stuff ready to go and as soon as you fuel up your rider at TL, FLY your gear to the car and haul ass yet once more to Pipeline.  We did this and got to Pipeline literally 30 seconds ahead of Cleaver.

After Pipeline, you can get back to the start at a little more "leisurely" pace as you'll have 2-3 hours to get to town and line up at the finish line to watch your riders come in.

3. Finish line: Did I mention parking in Leadville is a royal pain in the ass?  Odds are you'll need to park a number of blocks away from the 6th & Harrison finish line.  Have whatever your rider wants when they come across the line and any food or drink you'll want.  Now the wait begins.  "Oh, I remember that rider, they came through Pipeline 20 minutes ahead of my rider."  You'll be saying this for about an hour, 'cause it's bullshit as you don't remember anything.  There are 1900 riders for godsakes and there are about 10 of every bike and every clothing combo.  Finally your rider(s) will cross and you can go have a beer (or 10) with them and fall asleep.  If you think crewing for the riders is an easy day, think again.

4. The "awards" ceremony:  On Sunday AM, if your rider finished in under 12 hours, you'll need to hang around the gym on 6th Street to pick up your belt buckle.  This is a complete cluster fuck.  The gym holds about 400 people and there are about 3000 people trying to get in.  It is about 100 degrees inside and smells like sweaty butt-crack.  Have a coffee and hang around outside, poking your head in occasionally to see where they are in the awards.  Since the read off EVERY SINGLE NAME that got a buckle, it takes a few hours and know the slower your rider was, the longer you'll have to wait.

So, there you have it.  The survivor's guide to running a successful pit crew at Leadville.  We weren't able to do all these things and we were still successful, but I'll tell you I'll probably never do it again.  Probably never do it 'cause I'm gonna put my name in the hat for next year's lottery.  But, knowing my luck with lotteries, I'll just probably get in.

Short Way Down III, Part 2

Sunday morning came without much fanfare, although the lightning storm in the middle of the night could count as fanfare.  We arose a bit later than we did the previous day as the campground where we stay has a "mess hall" that they serve breakfast in and that doesn't start until 7:00.  We figured if we're up and ready to go by 7:00, then eat, we can be on the trail by 8:00.

We end up being changed and packed by about 7:10 and we pushed Barney over to the mess hall so we can roll right from there.  The Boy gets an all you can eat pancake breakfast, which I guess for him meant getting two huge pancakes and eating half of them, and I got the "big breakfast" and gave my sausage to the Boy.  Sufficiently fueled up, we stroll out around 8:00, fill our Camelbaks up and hit the trail.

The first stop of the day.

The morning was overcast, which meant cooler temperatures than we had anticipated.  This was a bonus as leaving Hill City means you get a grinder of a climb for about 7 or so miles to the summit at the Crazy Horse Monument and the last thing you want to do is start uphill in the baking sun.  One thing I failed to mention in Part I post was at dinner the previous night, Mom got on the Boy for not helping out with pedaling like he should.  Understand how a tandem works; both cranks have to turn in unison as they are connected by a timing chain, BUT if one person isn't putting their share into it, the effort is all on the other person.  Well, it must have hit home for him as he was a pedaling maniac on the climb!  We were at Crazy Horse before we knew it.

Crazy Horse

After a short break at the monument, we have a nice descent into Custer.  That stretch between Crazy Horse and Custer has some little ranches and houses nestled into the granite outcroppings and I have to say it would be one of the most beautiful places in the Black Hills to live.

Living outside of Custer...

We get to Custer with minimal effort and stop by the grocery store for a quick snack, a bathroom break and a chance to shake the legs out before the last grinder climb of the day.  As we're standing in front of the store, enjoying our snacks by Barney, I hear a mother say to her daughter as they walk by "...you don't get legs like that from going for walks."  I turn to see they're looking at me, or more importantly, my legs.  Stop it some more...

As we ride out of Custer, the clouds are starting to break up.  It is still cool, but I can feel that it is going to warm up in a hurry.  We bust up the last real climb of the day, which is about 3-4 miles worth of climbing.  At the top, we enjoy one last break before the rolling trails to Pringle and beyond. 

About 100 yards before the Pringle TH, we encounter a Mickelson Trail Patrol, as we did the previous day (and I failed to mention).  I realize these people have a job to do, but MAN, do I have to stop 100 yards before the trailhead to get my pass out?  Can't we roll over to the little hut to get out of the sun so I can get my boy something to eat whilst we play ass-grab with each other?  Surely, this cat can see we're loaded for bear and getting the bike rolling is not easy.  Oh well, pass checked we zip to the TH where we take a quick fiver before rolling on.

Pringle

The Mickelson is a beautiful trail, but after Pringle it gets hot and desolate pretty darn quickly.  Sure, there are some beautiful spots, but it isn't the prettiest part of the trail.  When people from other places ask about it, I usually recommend that, unless they're hell bent on finishing the whole thing, to stop in Pringle and get a ride from there.  That being said, we were hell bent on finishing.  Mentally, I knew we were NOT going to go a third day.  The Boy said he was getting sore in his neck and shoulders, which was partially from not riding enough before the trip and partially from his new position on the bike, as we've removed the child stoker kit and handlebar extensions, so I knew a third day could wreck him mentally so we were not going to continue back to Hill City.

A quick water fill up at the Lien Quarry hut and we we're rolling to the last trailhead called Minnekahta, where Mom was going to meet us.  We met up just as planned and she had some cool drinks for us as now the sun was beating down on us and it kinda felt like we were in the Serengeti.  At this point we decided to ditch our gear in the truck and ride unencumbered for the last 15 miles into Edgemont. 

Look at that smile!  Still happy after all those miles!

We took off down the trail and about two mile in, guess what?  Another DAMN FLAT!  Seriously, who the hell did I piss off?  OK, we can handle this I think.  I pull the rear wheel off and the cassette cogs fall off with the wheel.  HOLY SHIT.  This is NOT GOOD.  Not good indeed.  But, being fairly handy, I was able to reattach the cog's lockring with the plier end of a multi-tool.  After fixing the flat and reinstalling the rear wheel, I discover that the axle is quite loose.  At this point we decide to pull the plug on this section of trail.  There is no access between where we were and Edgemont, so if something drastic happened, we'd end up walking the last 10 miles or so.  Not gonna happen.  So, a quick call to my lovely which netted me no response and a voice mail, and we turned around and rode back to the Minnekahta TH.  We ended up calling and texting her about 10 times before she responded.  She was in the museum in Edgemont...thankfully it is Edgemont and there is more stuff in my house than in that museum, so it didn't take her too long.

After a picnic at the Minnekahta TH, we got the bike loaded up in the truck and we headed for home.  Another Mickelson trip under our belts, this time with a lot more adversity than we've had in the other years combined.   Which made for an interesting trip and will make us all the more prepared for the next time we do it.  And we are already thinking about the next time...and I'll have a gross of tubes waiting.