New East Coast Syndicate

Stoopidly Cold Stewart

2012-01-15T16:25:00.023-04:00

It is MLK weekend and I have to say that I too had a dream - I awoke to temps in the mid 50s, beautiful sunshine with the birds chirping and the trails of Stewart running hard and fast. Well reality and dreams sometimes are far apart, in this case almost far enough for Mrs. C-Dubbs to have me committed for becoming delusional.
Stumbling out to the kitchen for the morning cup of Joe there was a sudden rumbling from deep within my colon. It was the kind of rumble that had you been a Londoner's during WWII you knew it meant one thing and one thing only - The Blitz. Just like my good friend from St. Louis, Coach Ryback, the view from Mt. Kohler looked something like thisas I approached for each of the three sorties that were flown that morning (Coach you always refer to dropping a "deuce", well I have mastered dropping the "triple linty".) The devastation was so complete that our bathroom was a scene of total destructionand the Mrs swore it was worse then the mustard gas battles of Verdun requiring special equipment seen in this shot just to make it past the destruction.Having survived the rite of passage Mrs C-Dubbs was clear headed enough to turn on the Weather Channel just in time for the local forecast and a really good laugh. Seems over the course of a great nights sleep the temps hand dropped faster then a hooker when handed a $50 and the mercury was hovering just above the zero mark (and we are not talking Euro trash measurements, this is good old U.S. of A. Fahrenheit measurements). It was so cold out that you didn't want to go out dressed like thisor you would end up with a these, not that they are a bad thing.To prepare her man for battle in such conditions the Mrs cooked a plate that the chefs at Dos Primos would have been proud of and sent me off with a stomach full of refried beans, eggs, enchilada sauce and a healthy dose of Cholula sauce to ensure that ample supplies of methane would be keeping my riding shorts warm. Along with that a lathering of Rapha Embrocation was applied to the quads and knees to maximize comfort. Feeling the deep heating powers of the embrocation working their magic I started suiting up for the ride and while pulling on the leg warmers my coin purse happened to come in contact with the medicated areas. My initial fear was of the tales from high school and jockstraps filled with Ben Gay but alas there was a rather nice warm glow in the nether regions that ensured my package would be protected from potential frostbite. Despite everyones best efforts to prepare for the onslaught within minutes we were all freezing and in a moment of hypothermia induce hallucinations we all thought by spinning our arms around to get blood to the fingers we had the ability to turn ourselves into helicopters to fly back to Dark Horse and some IPAs.Needless to say this didn't work and we continued on with the ride, being entertained by the Raveinator's repeated falls (which we believe are the result of backward thinking in moving from 29" to 26" wheels). Repeated patches of ice had us all anticipating (and yours truly fearing) on of thesebut it didn't stop the Raveinator from contemplating this movewhen we passed the frozen lake. Finally with almost 1 1/2 hours of suffering/riding we headed home where the Mayor's beard was used to cool down the beer.

I'm Back - New Year's Day Ride

2012-01-01T16:07:00.028-04:00

Here it is, New Year's Day, a scant 4 months out of the operating room and I am back in Stewart choo-chooing the not so painful train around the dirt roads and single track. I never thought I would make it back on the singlespeed this early but am happy to report that a successful day in Stewart snapping wrists with the gang has come to a close. This year we were blessed with warm temps that had a strong contingent of 19 riders, everyone smiling and the hard core group recalling some of the past New Years rides (2009, 2010 & 2011)
In the usual first ride of the year tradition, the flask of Del Maguay was mounted on my trusty steed and filled to capacity - and we made sure to lower the bike's weight by passing the flask prior to rolling out of the parking lot.And to imbibe some yeasty malted beverage for carb loading.Naturally every time there was a pause on the trail, either to reunite the troops, or in the case of Dex, fix a gusher when the valve broke on his Stan's filled tire (with all of that white liquid latex spurting straight into the air you can imagine the comments and comparisons that had us rolling in fits of laughter on the side of the road) we hit the flask until it was drained dry on the run back to Dark Horse.
Note Sal's proper selection of tireInfantile Tom taking one of his numerous sipsOne of our favorite sections had recently been privatized and young Paul Vicari, upon venturing into the nether regions faced the wrath of an officer of the law, so we put a proverbial toe in the water and crossed the line of death for some quick laps in the umbrella factory.
Next up was a lap around the lake/bog where the Raveinator did a beautiful swan dive/face planet right into the stream crossing and Infantile Tom caught this shot of C-Dubbs on the trail giving the classic Team Seagal salute.To finish out the lap o the lake we came to a section we now refer to as the Liberator Trail. For unknown reasons on a previous group ride Top Chef, Binky, Infantile Tom and C-Dubbs became immersed in a deep conversation about the pros and cons of the Liberator. Well the young lady that had been trailing the ride must have overheard our conversation and she has yet to return and grace us with her presence. Then it was off to Skip and Bill's were I fulfilled my New Year's resolution of nailing Infantile Tom with the now infamous "splash of death rock toss" as he crossed the river. Cameras didn't catch it but it looked something like this.As we turned onto the final ride home our perverted minds once again turned to the question that everyone has on New Year's Day - what has become of Hawaiian Mike (aka Loose Boots)? Rumor has it the past fling with his cougar, Katie, has cooled off a bit and good old Loose Boots is now fulfilling a childhood fantasy of becoming a sheep farmer. We found an old family album with this picture of Loose Boots fantasizing what fun it would on a sheep farm.No doubt that screaming face was due to the excitement of one day wandering into the barn and seeing this sight.Well good friends we reached out to our contacts in New Zealand, Ben Dover and Phil McCrackin, and they sent us these choice shots of Mike and his mates calling out the sheep in the field and relaxing over a post "loose boots" pint. As you can see the fresh air has Mike smiling like never before.As the post ride BBQ was closing down and most of the riders had gone home our crack videographers caught this footage of Loose Boots coming in from the ride.

2012 NECS/MRC Non Race Series Announced

2011-12-29T13:41:00.010-04:00

Tired of smashing your head against a tree trying to win one of these tacky trophies?Well then this is the series for you. The NECS/MRC are pulling out all the stops to ensure that the battle to the finish line and overall series championship will be well worth it - a growler of the finest yeasty malted beverage we can obtain by whatever means to wet your salt crusted lips. And don't forget there is the cash payouts for the first over the Cima Coppi (Grnad Fondo) and other assorted goodies to numerous to name.
Dates are to be announced for these fine events -
Chinaman 100
NECS Grand Fondo
Big Indian Scalping
D2R2
Beer Cross (if I get my shit together in 2012)

D2R2 - Take That Chewbacca

2011-12-28T16:15:00.006-04:00

I am feeling frisky these days and long to get back at it so I scored a slot in the D2R2 (limited to the first 1000 idiots to sign up). Put on by the Franklin Land Trust this is one bad ass Non Race with a choice of 100k, 115k or the monster 180k with roughly 15000' of climbing (of course yours truly signed up for the ultimate sufferfest). The ride will use the "narrowest, oldest, twistiest, quietest, and most-scenic roads available" in Western Massachusetts and doesn't offer results or prizes other then gags. All I can say is it better not rain or this will be one hell of a mess. Come and join me on the pain train as I choo-choo around the Northeast.

What Was And What Is To Be - 2011 In Retrospective

2011-12-23T19:34:00.023-04:00

Here it is Christmas weekend, I have just wrapped up an intense day of work and am sitting on the sofa, baby bourbon in hand and Apocalypse Now playing in the background. What does this have to do with life, cycling and this blog – well not much other then it is an annual tradition and my opportunity to take a slice of time to myself when I look back on the year past and ponder what has happened and the predictions of what is to come in the New Year. It is perhaps the one and only time that I remotely attempt to write something with philosophical value rather then my typical fear and loathing toilet type humor.
As we rolled into 2011 life was not in a particularly good place, the positive memories of my class victory at the 6 hours of Cathedral Pines were a fading memory due to all of the prescription medications I was starting to ingest to fend off the worsening pain. Despite this the NECS crew made the annual New Year’s day pilgrimage to Dark Horse Cycles for the first trail ride of the year.Timing was on our side as shortly after this the snows started coming and never seemed to end . Spending up to 6 hours shoveling off a couple of roofs to prevent a collapse didn’t help with the problems in my hip and before long it was time to put the WADA to the test and head to the Center for Nuclear Medicine and the first round of direct injections so I could survive the season.Despite a worsening physical condition the NECS/MRC were in full training for the Tour of the Battenkill with Top Chef and C-Dubbs scouting the Chinaman 100 as a potential non race for the 2012 calendar. Well it was all for naught as cold rainy conditions found most of the NECS huddled in the dojo reciting the scriptures and posing for shots in the Shanghai gallery. Clearly this preparation provided us with a superior attitude and superior state of mind as we took on the trails of Stewart State Forest for the East Coast’s biggest, badass singlespeed race, Singlespeed-a-Palooza.While everyone made a real go of the course, yours truly (despite massive doses of steroids) rode the course in a Percocet induced haze trying my hardest to finish last – and wouldn’t you know it , I fucked up and finished second-to-last. Not that it mattered, it was a mudfest that I thoroughly enjoyed and was great preparation for my (hopefully final) indoctrination into the cult of Team Seagal.
Now for those that have followed the fabled stories of singlespeed wrist snapping glory coming out of the land of breweries, the trails of Middle Fork are a place held on an equal status with the likes of Moab, Kingdom Trails and for NECS locals, Stewart on steroids. Heading to St. Louis I was at a point where the pain had become so bad that many a night was spent standing (yes it was the one comfortable position) and sleep was becoming more rarefied then oxygen on the summit of Everest. There was a concern that a 50 mile singlespeed race might not be in the best interest of my ultimate goal of completing my 9th straight Wilderness 101 but the lure of finally riding with Team Seagal was right up there with a hit of crack or heroin – I couldn’t say no. Well Middle Fork lived up to it’s top billing and despite the most intense pain and suffering to date (once again the triple lindy was called upon)it was amazors and on the calendar for next year.
Back from St. Louis it was off to the Center for Nuclear Medicine and the final round of ‘roids to, hopefully, get me to the finish line of the Wilderness 101. Well the shot worked and the training continued in earnest with a rain soaked NECS Grand Fondo being the final big push before toeing the line for what might possibly be my final race.
Finally the end of July arrived and having suffered through a close to a year of pain I stepped up to the line for my 9th W101 with complete confidence in my condition but almost no confidence in my ability of my hip to survive the course. Survive I did, but it was not a pretty sight, and on the final stretch over the Fisherman’s trail I was reduced to using my bike as a crutch as I struggled over the boulders and hike-a-bike sections before finally rolling into the campground 10 hours after the start.
Having made it to the finish I officially called it a year for riding and settled back into an alcohol induced haze over the following days before limping into the Hospital for Special Surgery for the Ti upgrade.
Well the surgery was a success and under surgeon’s orders I was back on the bike (on a trainer) less then 3 weeks later.Rehabilitation was going well with one small exception – after almost a year on and off painkillers I was suffering from a bit of addiction withdrawal. Nothing too bad, no bugs crawling all over me but it was there and on top of the physical rehab I had to slowly withdraw from the opiates that had made life tolerable through all the pain.
Here we are in December and once again I have missed Cxmas (something that will not happen next year) but am in a state where I should be able to make the annual Dark Horse New Year’s Day ride. So what does all of this mean for the coming year? Racing for podiums is now a thing of the past, it is time to get back to what got me into this sport, having fun with your mates and getting in a lot of great rides. I will have to test my new hip and see if the rigors and beating of the trails are tolerable or if I am forced to a fate worse then being labeled an adulterous with a scarlet letter R on my forehead – a roadie. I like to be the proverbial optimist and have loaded up the race schedule with a mix of mtb, Ultracross, Ultarendurance and good old fun organized rides. Until then, happy trails.

Celebrating Cxmas, Team Seagal Style

2011-12-21T20:24:00.016-04:00

It is that time of the year when we are all preparing to celebrate the coming holidays. Sadly my recovery from surgery and the chaotic work environment has detracted from preparations for this year's Beer Cross which simply will be a non nonrace. It looks like this year's race will be the proverbial "pause between chugs when one wants to burp" and like a phoenix may rise from the ashes next year.
I wanted to pay tribute to my dear brethren from the plains of the Midwest, who are the inspiration for Beer Cross, and have once again gone over the top and celebrated in true style. The annual Cxmas Non Race, which sadly I once again had to miss, was an orgy of PBRs, spiked egg nog and male appendage inspired deserts. In case you are not inspired enough to read the full down and dirty here are a few shots I lifted from their blog (teamseagal.blogspot.com) to give you an idea of what a crazy nonrace this is.

The Mayor Goes to New York

2011-12-21T15:35:00.011-04:00

The great metropolis of New York was blessed with the annual visit of Santa Mayor. His tour of the fine pubs and microbrews was led by none other then Top Chef. Well between the two of them you can imagine the copious amounts of fine yeasty malted beverages that were consumed. In fact our ace reporters were out with the video cameras and caught these shots of the Mayor during the Day of Immeditate Consumption. Sadly they missed the grand fianle as he attempted to board the train back upstate.
Shortly after getting off the trainOn the way to the train

On The Edge

2011-12-04T19:24:00.001-04:00

This has nothing to do with riding but being an ex skydiver I really dug the scenes.

The Ultimate UltarCross Weapon

2011-10-27T02:49:00.012-04:00

Well the folks at Independent Fabrication have done it again and built this ultimate weapon for my assault on the Ultracross series next season.
Kickass Ride - Wound Up Carbon Cx Fork and DT Swiss 240s laced to Velocity Rims (thanks Dave's Speeddream Wheels)- Last Of The Somerville Rides - Ti Planet Cross w/ BB30 - Now UCI Legal - Disc Brakes Mated To Paragon Rockers Means Single or Geared Option -

Still Alive And Well

2011-10-18T21:55:00.008-04:00

Yes good friends of the NECS, while my brothers of the Midwest have been snapping countless wrists and choo-chooing at trail of mass destruction at the Battle of Counsel Bluff, the members of the NECS are in deep preparation for an all out assault at the 6 Hours of Cathedral Pines. I on the other hand, or is that hip, have not exactly been idle either. In fact rehab has become so intense that our Japanese affiliates of NASA, between tsunami and nuclear meltdowns, have had a hand (artificial that is) in preparing the mighty C-Dubs for an all out assault on the 2012 season. Once again our we have trolled the backwaters of the internet to find this underground clip revealing the tragedy behind C-Dubs injuries and the subsequent reconstruction into the bionic ultra endurance racer.Now that the rocket scientists of Tokyo have finished the final tweaks to the implanted Ti hardware I am back on the bike and putting enough energy to power New York City into the efforts that will be required for the opening salvo at Middle Fork. With the 3rd annual Beer Cross only weeks away stay tuned.

Progress - One Lace At A Time

2011-09-27T16:31:00.006-04:00

Yeah I know, it's not so exciting to tie your shoe but try having your femur pulled out of the side of your leg/ass, the ball of the femur ground down, hammered, put back in and stitched up. Then try and reach for those laces. Yes you will then know pain, I mean this is the true pain train. Well you can imagine just how excited I was when I finally pulled this one off -The time had arrived and I was no longer restricted to loafers, sneakers with elastic laces and extra long shoe horns.
Shortly after this it was off to the surgeon for the first follow up. Good Dr. Su looked, moved my leg about, had me limp around and then with a smile gave the good news that it was time to drop the crutches ASAP and make like good old Forrest Gump - Well my loyal friends there is a lot more in the works and the news will be forth coming shortly.

Breaking News- C-Dubs Retires From Ultra Endurance Racing

2011-09-12T05:59:00.002-04:00

Well loyalistas and connoisseurs of the NECS we never thought the day would come when a story of this magnitude would be broken but it has happened. Our sources have been scouring the dumpsters and trash cans for evidence of this event and finally the truth has come out. When confronted with this photograph C-Dubs, after initially dismissing it as a cheap knockoff akin to a Rolex from Hong Kong, agreed to sit down for a one-on-one with none other then the NECS's favorite reporter Katie the Cougar. What you are about to read will make you jaw drop and wonder if C-Dubs is either gone off the deep end or is really on to something.

KC - C-Dubs, when did you first realize that your days on the ultra endurance circuit were finally over?

C-Dubs - Well Katie, after finishing the last 101 the first thing on my mind was to get into the operating room and get the hip resurfaced. From there it was focusing on recovering and preparing next year’s event. It was a this point that fate was to intervene.

KC - And how is the recovery going, do you feel you are on track?

C-Dubs - Progress has been really good and the surgeon gave me the green light to move from just walks to riding again.

KC - Did you first ride meet expectations

C-Dubs - Katie, it turns out on that first ride, which was on a LifeCycle, I was watching the Vuelta. During the ride an ad for ProForm, the official training bike of the Tour de France came on and I had quite an epiphany. It was at that moment I realized where my future in cycling would be. I mean look at the head shaking effort this guy is putting in on the ProForm Clearly this is a dangerous sport requiring participants to wear gloves and a helmet. Efforts like this could result crashes into life threatening objects like coffee tables and televisions, think of the potential for brain damage if you put your head through a 42” flat panel!

KC - But how will this satisfy your thirst for competition?

C-Dubs - I am already in contact with Pat McQuaid to have the trainer UCI certified and with the ability to program in any stage there is a movement to have ProForm rider’s times posted against the TdF field to vie for the yellow jersey. With Credit Lyonnais having an ownership stake in the product they are fully backing the concept.

“Ringing phone”

C-Dubs - Sorry Katie I have to take this one, it’s the Schleck brothers. We are in the midst of negotiations to put together a ProForm team with backing from Hyundai and Emerson electronics. I’ll have my agent get back to you for another interview once we wrap up the negotiations.

Going Like A Bat Out Of Hadies

2011-08-24T16:56:00.005-04:00

The paparazzi got this exclusive footage of C-Dubs only 4 days after surgery.

Dark Side Of The Moon

2011-08-21T18:55:00.004-04:00

Now if I get asked 8" or less I can honestly answer 8 1/2"

Powered By Titanium

2011-08-20T06:39:00.012-04:00

Loyalistas of the NECS, my brethren at Team Seagal and the Dark Horse Cycles crew, I am happy to report that after a couple of hours of cutting flesh, shaving bone and hammering in some new Ti parts (hey some of us will do anything to shave a couple of grams) the new and improved C-Dubs is out of the hospital and recuperating at home. I give special thanks Dr. Edwin Su for getting all the parts installed and having me back on my feet less the 6 hours after the closing stitches were in.
Here are some of the classic shots -
PreOp - Making sure everything goes right (literally)PreOp - Not too concerned (note the 37 heart rate in the upper right)PostOp - The magic morphine button - damn near broke this from overuseFirst Steps - this was taken less then 6 hours after closingThe Cut - the lines were to match up both sides for the closing

8/18/11 - Game Time

2011-08-17T20:33:00.000-04:00

Only one thing to do, show Superior Attitude, Superior State of Mind

Millionaire Riding Club Pain Train

2011-08-16T16:35:00.037-04:00

While my loyal and crazy brothers of the midwest were inflicting maximum damage to the wrists and egos of all participates at the Spoke Pony and MWSSC, we here at the New East Coast Syndicate/MRC were choo chooing our version of the pain train around the shores of the mighty Ashoken resevouir.
With a drug induced nap on the operating table a scant 5 days away (and believe me it was going to be a loooong 5 days), Top Chef (ironically his first ride back from broken ribs) put out the Tweet for a flash mob ride from Kerhonkson. Pulling into the lot it hit me like a hot kiss at the end of a wet fist, this was it, the last ride of the season! Well I was as excited as this or this, in fact I nearly pissed my chamois I was so excited. Pulling in right behind was Paul LeStage, the road racing guru of the MRC followed by Top Chef, the ex Dark Horse racer, Fat Chick (aka Jenny Craig) who had suffered this fate at the hands of the MayorRich Medivac Long and Frank The Tank. Being the MRC there was lots of bling ready to roll with Top Chef's carbon lugged Colnago, Fat Chick's Giant TRC, C-Dubs steel IF and a fleet of Specialized Tarmacs, and everybody rolling on carbon. I mean this is the kind of stuff that makes bike groupies scream and throw themselves at you. This being Kerhonkson and the groupies looking like thiswe all clipped in and set off for the easy side of the Sampsonville Road climb and it's fast descent.
With a fresh coat of tar and chip that had left a lot of loose gravel, I would have rather wiped my ass with 80 grit then ride the entire descent with the road like this. Thank god for my taint, halfway down and long before the fastest part of the descent the paving stopped and we were back on excellent tarmac.Not long after this shot, sure as Criss Angel wants to be a boys camp counselor, we we diving for the mandatory MRC espresso stop at Bread Alone.The espresso stop is the brainchild of our master of the smoker, Top Chef, and has taken on a ritual status on our rides. One of the great things at Bread Alone is the dope-o-cino, where the "double" is really a quadruple and you can be sure the pace will be fast.Despite the horror stories of the strata bianca in the Giro, the troops, jacked up on some great italian coffee, managed to survive the tire eating conditionsand hit the run down 213, a fast flowing, slight downhill of about 7 miles. The battle cry went out "PACE LINE" and it was time to rock. Now this being the last ride and with a belly full of espresso, my rotation at the front tended to up the pace a bit (hey, might as well go for it all on one of my favorite sections of road). With the road closed due to construction we had every turn to ourselves with the only break coming for the water crossing where the bridge was out. As we hit the bottom there was an apparent altercation with a motorist/self proclaimed cyclist who felt justified in taking a serve at the MRC ranks. He then pulled over and began lecturing us about how he could freak out and crash, killing his wife and child (guess he's a really shitty driver) and trash talking with our largest (and I mean 6'3" and fully able to kick this 5'7" whiner's ass) rider Rich (and he had a look in his eye that indicated a medivac might be needed for this jerk). Cooler heads prevailed, I cut a massive fart, and everyone got back to the job at hand - rolling down the road.
Hitting the parking lot is was a quick check of the ancient scriptures and Fat Chick, Top Chef and I were off to an amazing roadside BBQ trailer and some fine IPAs.

Game, Set, Match - Wilderness 101

2011-08-05T13:32:00.021-04:00

With all of the chips in the pot, Mrs C-Dubs and I loaded the Audi assault vehicle and headed west to the backwoods of central Pennsylvania/Bald Eagle state forest for the 11th annual running of the Wilderness 101 (and second running of the super secret Wilderness 40). With the 9th go at the race, getting our shit together, loading the car and getting there and establishing base camp is akin to getting dressed in the morning with a hangover....everything is on autopilot. The biggest excitement of the trip being how many Mennonite carriages we will see on the road and whether Floyd Landis will be at the reins or building another barn.
Arriving at the Coburn town park we once again landed the primo camping site under the trees. With temps and humidity rivaling the nether regions of a sidewalk bum's filthy pants, having shade was as essential to survival as a good Chinese dinner is to getting the munchies. Once base camp was established, like a dog marking it's territory, we set about running the construction tape to mark off sites for our Midwestern ambassador to China, Garth Prosseralong with plots for the expected contingent of NECS/Dark Horse riders that were able to withstand the tongue lashing doled out by the Mayor for missing the marquee event of the season - Dark Horse 40.
Finishing off the traditional preride of the first climb and finishing rail trail, we circled up the camp chairs around the cooler, determined that the hip seemed to have enough left for the race and quickly set about worshiping the god of yeasty malted beverages for a bit of prereace carb loading before setting off to Millheim for our traditional pasta and egg roll dinner. By this time the news started rolling in, Monte was out but in at the DH 40 (Mayor 1 - Chris Scott 0), El Obamador had made the mistake of getting a late start and was parked on Route 80 enjoying a social session with fellow drivers due to an accident and Fat Chick was in but opted for the offering of XXX films on the hotel tv instead of the bromance of the campground. By the time we called it a night it was still so hot that while laying in the tent it felt like this -Race day dawned with our host, Chris Scott, circling the campground rousing all participants with the traditional ringing of the Chinese gong and songs from Pulp Fiction to get the juices flowing. With temps and humidity a bit lower it wasn't going to be the death march we all feared but it was still going to be a cooker on some of the longer climbs. Rolling up to the starting line I took a quick look over my shoulder a bit anxious as to whether this view was going to come by my own power or in the back of a pickup truck after packing it in on the course (and you can be sure that after putting up with all that pain for the past 8 months I was in no mood to ride the Budweiser express back to Coburn).
Well loyalistas things were going better then planned and before I knew it aide station 3 had come and gone and your narrator was feeling good and ready to push on for the brutality that lay ahead. A few changes to the course had taken out one the single track climbs and replaced it with a beautiful ridge top ride complete with panoramic views and even moar rocks which was only a precursor of what was to come.
About 65 miles in I finally caught Fat Chick on one of the road climbs only to incur the feared endo/flat one-two punch on the following descent. After putting in a replacement tube and gassing it with Co2 only to find that the new tube was a dud, Fat Chick rolled on by, passed a tube and Co2 before setting back off. With the repairs made it was back to the duty at hand. Rolling into aide station 4 I was greeted by Mrs C-Dubs, who as bottle bitch extraordinaire, had me refilled with liquids, tubes and Co2 for the next leg, the feared climb up Stillhouse Hollow Road. Now Stillhouse road on a good day is an ugly climb, steep at the bottom with the top half hard packed rocky old jeep track but this year the weather really tore it up and both the lower and upper sections were akin to riding in a dried up river bed, lots of rocks, lots of ruts and not too much riding surface. Having successfully navigated this section I came to the realization that Little Poe Trail (no longer a part of the course) was the one section that gave you relief and let you know the last aide station was coming soon. This year we were diverted with an extra 30 minutes of climbing before being treated to the worst descent on record, a 5 mile long double track that was completely washed out and full of chunky rocks and felt like you had been working a jack hammer after 85 miles of riding.
Coming into the final aide station I again caught up with Fat Chick where we topped off with bottles of coke and fig newtons before setting off for the final climb. Once at the base I caught another master and with Fat Chick running on empty I elected to put the hurt on and powered up the climb, changing up a gear and getting out of the saddle anytime the pace started to slow. Summiting meant only a high speed descent followed by Fisherman's trail and 4 miles of rail trail/road to the finish. Well just yards from the bottom it was another flat and this time I had it changed and on the bike before anyone had caught me only to turn the bike over and find it was once again flat. It wasn't until halfway through the second change that I was finally caught by my fellow master and realized that all that work was for naught. As Fat Chick rolled up he handed me moar tubes and Co2 while with a pathetic look I offered to let him give it a go to which he responded "see you at the finish".
At this point I should have been wearing this jersey due to all the flats - Facing the reality that I wasn't going to catch either Fat Chick or my Masters competitor I called it a day and casually took my time changing the tire for a relaxed ride to the finish. Only problem was this year the Fisherman's Trail went over the top instead of by the river and it was a massive hike-a-bike section that I could barely walk. I knew to make the year's goal I only had to struggle over this section and worst case I could one leg pedal home. Carried by a superior attitude and superior state of mind I rolled across the line as the clock ticked past 10:24. Not my fastest, not my slowest but in light of changing 4 flats and having a bum hip I was smiling but in a lot of pain. Immediately on the menu was my infamous post shoveling elixir of oxy, Tobala and Corona followed by a dip in the river.Back at the camp it was time to eat, party, eat, party and celebrate that I was now nine for nine at the 101Next stop 8/18 and the operating table, keep you posted.

All In - Wilderness 101

2011-07-28T07:40:00.003-04:00

Well loyal and rabid fans of the NECS it is that time of the year when the trails and backroads of Coburn, PA roar with the sound of pain, suffering and celebration as the Wilderness 101 rolls through the region.
It is time to, like Mr. Bond, go all in.The entire year has been tailored for one goal, to make my hip last until that finish line pint glass is firmly in my grip. Once in hand I should be able to suffer through the next 2 weeks before I lay my head down for that fantastic nap that comes on when the anethesiologist puts you down for the count.

The Team Seagal Influence Marches North

2011-07-19T13:55:00.009-04:00

It doesn't take shoddy news reporting/hacking of phone lines like the folks a New Corp need to do to get a good story. We here at the NECS simply go out and seek the stories that matter to the world and we do it the old fashion journalistic way by getting on our bikes and scouring the comunity for the news that matters. This past weekend there was a newsline of the magnitude that rivals the front page stories about the debt crisis (what the hell is the crisis, just stop spending more then you earn Uncle Sam, ah duh!)
As you recall from my foray into the deep south, MFXC, there is a cult like status to the Bathtub Mary's that populate the most dangerous section of highway in Missouri.Well it seems these Mary's, like the Africanized bees that plagued the country a decade ago, are in a migratory pattern and have begun to crop up on the some of the favorite loops of the NECS. On one of the trickier backroad descents I could feel the aura coming from this grotto-like Bathtub Mary and was able to grab enough brake to stop in time for this shot. Note the grotto like setting, perhaps an influence from the cliffs of the great Shawangunks that loom overhead.

NECS Superbowl Party TdF Style

2011-07-19T13:32:00.009-04:00

We here at the NECS put a big emphasis on riding bikes and partying like rock stars, at least the rock stars on their retirement tours. Well when Bobke, Phil and Paul take to the airwaves for a very colorful rendition of the Tour de France, the NECS throw our version of a Super Bowl party and you can be sure when you have Top Chef on the roster the eats will be superb and in touch with the roots of the TdF.
The prerace festivities were kicked off with this selection of fine wines from the Bordeaux region and were complimented by a fresh baguette and an assortment of French cheese from the Pyrenees region.Once the first bottle had been drained it was into the kitchen where our one and only Top Chef was caught in this shot prepping a meal that could get any rider over the Col d'Aubisque.Then it was time to settle in for some seriously big mountains and what better way to take in the racing then on Braveheart's larger then life HD projection set up. You could almost smell the sweat pouring off the Europcar team as they paced Thomas V up the climbs.The intensity of the climbs along with all of the wine and food proved to be too much for Top Chef who was caught in the back seat of the team couch taking in some zzzz's after packing it in at the base of the final climb.

The Grandest Fondo

2011-07-07T08:27:00.010-04:00

Well devout worshipers of the NECS,yet another spectacular Non Race is in the books and this one was more epic then ever. So epic in fact that only W.C. Fields could sum up the conditions - Yes, I was truly excited for what is fast becoming a landmark event the riding circles of upstate New York, almost as excited as a 16 yr. old about to be taken by dad to the local brothel for an education in life. As a result I was pacing the the rooms of the house in the predawn hours when suddenly there were several brilliant flashes followed by a tremendous boom and the ensuing torrential downpour. WTF! a thunderstorm at 4am and driving rains that would bring mere mortal riders to their knees (and for some of the NECS Wrecking Crew their mere mortality was revealed on the New Jersey Turnpike). Well fans, prayers were answered when the doorbell rang and it was none other then two time defending Beer Cross Champion, Senor Aqua, first to answer the call to duty. Based on the skills and abilities shown at this year's Beer Cross I knew that his mere presence was going to ensure a truly epic event. Soon after non racers began pouring into HQ faster then lemmings over a cliff and by Non Race time we had a fearsome pack of six idiots about to set out on a Grand Fondo ride in the pouring rain. And when I say pouring I mean pouring. Sure there were the bouts of light rain when in a moment of sheer delusion we all thought it was going to clear, then we saw this in the direction we were headed.With the pending clouds of doom looming ahead we pulled into the local Sack-o-Suds where provisions were taken on for the push to the Cima Coppi, the summit of Peekamoose and the 10 Euro prize.Earlier in the ride Fat Chick (aka Jenny Craig) noted that the last place we wanted to be in a passing thunderstorm was Peekamoose. Well a quick "fuck that, we need to do some climbing" from El Obamador and we were off to the backwoods of Peekamoose and the pending downpour which came shortly after hitting the base of the climb.While all of this was going down with the weather there was a whole other non race going on within the non race - the KoM competition and the bragging rights for bagging the Cima Coppi and the coveted "left over from the Giromania trip" 10 Euro note. At the base of each climb I. like Christian Prudome, would call the start and immediately it was El Obamador, Senor Agua and Tom Hill shooting off into the distance while Fat Chick, MacGyver and C-Dubs hopped on the Auto Bus to make the time cut. So casual were the three of us with some of the climbs that we took time out on the Cima Coppi for this shot of the waterfalls that come out after a good rain.Shortly after this the summit warriors were headed back down the mountain expressing serious concern for the well being of Team Lantern Rouge . Having secured our safety it was a group ride up Peekamoose until we passed what had been mistaken for the summit. Realizing the coveted Cima Coppi was still wide open the usual suspects sped off for the summit and Grand Fondo glory. This was the scene right afterwards –
The descent off the backside brought some of the heaviest rains of the day and for those of us with carbon rims and cork brake pads some of the scariest moments of the day. There is nothing quite like the feeling of having the break levers pulled to the bars, hands cramping and the bike slowly gaining speed! By the time every finger bone had broken from the pressure the road had finally straightened out and it was a high speed race for the bottom and you can imagine just how good the rain felt hitting your face at over 40 mph.
Having our fill of rain the decision was made make for a direct line back to HQ and the cooler full of growlers and bottles of IPA. This still left us with almost 30 miles to go so it was time for some serious pace line riding in the downpour which looked like this -
Finally back in the shelter of the man cave the high fives went around and everyone agreed that it was truly epic event and that anyone who rolled back under the covers instead of riding had a very poor decision.
KoM Champion – El Obamador
Cima Coppi Winner – El Obamador
Tom Hill is introduced to the infamous Team Seagal Braquito

Why All The Excitement?

2011-07-02T20:46:00.006-04:00

Excited Pokemon kid by carstengp
I'll tell you why, tomorrow is Grand Fondo day, this kid was one of the lucky ones to get the sacred spoke cards, and the crowds will go wild for the swag that is being handed out for this monumental event.
Unbelievable spoke cards
KOM competition for a growler of Back N' Black IPA
Individual prizes (growlers and large format bottles) for summit finishes
Awesome BBQ featuring Team Seagal Braquitos
Mrs. C-Dubs incredible rum cake
Non Rules are simple
KOM points on each climb for the overall title
Summit prize for the 7th place over the top
10 Euro prize for the first over the Cima Coppi

This Bites

2011-06-20T19:11:00.005-04:00

You might recall this tidbit from the 2008 season, Kiss of the Spider Woman, well rabid fans of the NECS it has happened again. Three days and a couple of nights of feverish sleep after the bite and this is the result.Biggest issue, missing some more riding and getting even further behind for the 101.

NECS Grand Fondo Update

2011-06-02T08:59:00.007-04:00

The results are in from our recent Gallup poll and the NECS Grand Fondo is on for the Independence Day weekend. This year's stellar event, one that even has recent Giromania winner Alberto Contador on the fence as to whether he will defend his TdF title or jet across the Atlantic for this summer classic.
Participants will roll out of the Casa de CDubs the morning of July 3rd and trace the route made famous in last year's NECS Non Race, The Peekamoose 100 tackling the East side of the Col d' Minnewaska with it's Category 3 and Category 2 double summit. Heading South, next up will be the Category 4 Roundout climb that will take non racers to the base of the Col d' Peekamoosse featuring this year's Cima Coppi and the 10 Euro bonus for the first over the summit. The descent off the summit is considered to be as difficult as the Monte Crostis giving little time to recover before Mt. Sampsonville and it's multiple summits that range from Category 4 to Category 1.
The descent into Kerhonkson takes non racers through the final feed zone before tackling the West side of the Col d' Minneswaska, but rather then a direct assault on the summit riders will be redirected to the backside of Monhonk where the final grinder up the Category 3 Clove Road climb awaits. After cresting the final 16% pitch it will be a fast descent off of the East side of the Col d' Minnewaska and rolling terrain to the finish where,if any of the sprinters have managed to stay on the pain train, they will be rewarded with a 1km run into the finish.

1 Shot, 1 Race & 3 Months To Go

2011-05-25T21:16:00.017-04:00

Well groupies and rabid fans of the NECS, I do want to apologize for the lack of superior intellectual verbiage that I normally post to the nether regions of blogdom but life has not been all that exciting for the President For Life - CDubs. Having survived the massive doses of wrist snapping doled out at Middle Fork with my breatheren from the Midwest I am now in damage control and will be off the race courses until the town of Coburn is ready for the running of the 101. Like any good junkie one has to plan in advance to make sure the next fix will get you to your desired goal and I am glad to report that I am now in that state of euphoria. With the last round of 'roids only lasting a scant 2 1/2 months timing was critical to keep the pain in check until the W101 and post race surgery. Thankfully I happened into some of the old staff from USPS and was immediately directed to the Nuclear Medicine Division at Hospital for Special Surgery where the appropriate doseage was administered with amazing results. Just yesterday I was a svelte PBR swilling rider like this -and then this morning it was this -Boy am I going to kick some ass.
Meanwhile the rest of the troops have been out on the warpath kicking ass, snapping wrists and taking no prisoners. Top Chef, seen here on the new carbon Epic got right down to business and stormed the sport field at Waywayanda taking the top step.Next up, after a week of torrential rain, was the Stewart Six Pack where, in pro class, there was a event that happens less often then a swarm of locusts - Monte's doing his impersonation of a Japanese fighter pilot -In Sport class it was MacGyver in 7th for under 45 and for the soon to be Centrum Silver grouping it was Top Chef in 6th and the Mayor, well, he was simply the Mayor. Meanwhile in the singlespeeds it was El Obamador in 5th, Tom "Hobo Slayer" Hill in 13th, Senor Agua in 15th and an unconfirmed sighting of Mikesquatch in 18th.
Stay tuned for details on the cycling event that has all of the pros and cycling correspondents talking at the Giro - NECS Grand Fondo - which will feature a KoM competition, including a massive 10 Euro purse for the first rider to summit the Cima Coppi.

Yes You Can Teach An Old Dog New Tricks

2011-05-09T12:44:00.005-04:00

As you know from one of the more recent posts that our dear friend Infantile Tom, had to face the realities of Darwin's theory of evolution and the untimely death of the 650Basaurus.
Well good old Tom is smiling these days because he has something big, white and rigid between his legs, and it ain't because of Viagra.

MFXC - The Initiation Is Complete

2011-05-02T18:50:00.047-04:00

Well NECS groupies, at long last my vision quest to the spiritual birthplace of Team Seagal and an unofficial non race has taken place and I have had a spiritual rebirth, more so then anyone would at one of these –And believe me there were plenty of river crossings to be blessed at the Middle Fork event. Preparation for an event of this magnitude requires total devotion and focus,countless hours in the dojo and a strict dietary regime that culminated with Thai chicken and Asian noodles for breakfast the morning of departure, an intense regime that only a few have mastered. Despite this intense and focused preparation the mission was almost aborted when I inadvertently left for the airport without my phone. I borrowed my cabby's phone, dialed the wife and waited for an IED to go off when the call connected. God/Allah bless her as she was in a cab and on the way to the airport to make the exchange.
My mobile device in hand it was time to clear security. Now I had a flask of Del Maguay, and a present for my good friend Nico Toscani that might raise a few eyebrows at the screening station. Alas rather then the alarms going off I gave the TSA agents a good morning chuckle as the xray machine revealed my cargo.Once on board and winging my way to St. Louis the turbulence kicked in and we were strapped in for the duration of the flight. These days sitting for any period of time is painful and here I was strapped in and feeling like Keith Richards waiting for a fix.
Touching down in the land of macro breweries I hustled my ass off the plane to the destruction of last week’s tornadoand a greeting from the jerk of all jerks, Nico Toscani. Off we went to Casa de Nico where the Mrs had prepared a fantastic Chinese noodle lunch to provide the necessary carbs for the race. Following lunch (and a few PBRs) I was issued my team travel bag and race day swag (that included a mini Seagal head, stickers and the rare Cockpunchor refrigerator magnet)and we loaded the car up with the trusty rides and cooler before heading off for the foothills of the Ozarks and the famed Council Bluffs.En route we stopped at the local Wholefoods to load up on top tier IPAs and all of the required makings for the infamous Braquito, a standard of Team Seagal. You know you are in the deep South when the Wholefoods sells racing fuelAnd the local McDonalds sign is sporting a McD boner.As we arrived at the last vestiges of humanity before heading into the mountains we came upon what I believe might have been the original home of the Toscani family as they arrived from the shores of Europe. Needless to say we stocked up on the fine offerings to ensure maximum gas attacks on the field the following day.Shortly after this we entered “Blood Alley” the most dangerous section of roadway in Missouri.Those entering this section of roadway can gain comfort from the fact that the revered “Bathtub Marys” are along the road to guide you to safety.(we put a lot of thought into how hard it must be to bury the bathtub and then realized that the Bathtub Mary set are also the same families that have a backhoe as a second vehicle).Having survived the road of death we pulled into Council Bluffs to clouding skies and a chance of rain. For those of you that venture to the nether regions of the blogs and follow the antics of Team Seagal then you are familiar with the cult like status bestowed on the trails of Counsel Bluffs/Middle Fork. The standards were high and expectations great as we pulled into the campground. Using all of our senses we did the most important thing and kitted up and headed out for ride before the rains came, worrying about setting up camp at a later time. I have to tell you it was not 5 minutes into the ride and Council Bluff had already lived up it’s top billing. Despite heavy rains the trails were well drained, hard packed, fast and flowing. (think of Raystown Lake on steroids). Near the end of the ride we came upon Tropical Storm Mason and brother T-tocs and with 18 miles in the books we headed back to camp to commence in the consumption of fine yeasty malted beverages. By the time we were back activity in the campground was gaining momentum and some of the wives were gearing up for a hike on the trails. Now being Missouri and being Team Seagal these are some serious bad ass women and you don’t want to cross one of them on the trail – side arms are standard issue.Stoking the fire to the proper temperature Senor Toscani set about preparing the sacred Braquito, a combination of bratwurst, sharp jack cheese, bbq sauce and soft shell tacos, and my next step of the initiation to the team. Fortified with a stomach full of Braquitos we next met up with the Lawman as he pulled into the grounds. Lawman is the resident Ozark trial master and keeper of the sacred chainsaw and is known throughout the region for his ability to bake some of the best cookies on either side of the Mississippi.
The LawmanThe Lawman's CamelbakLawman TreatsWith tents and bat hammocks in place the rest of the evening degenerated into a typical beerfest with my last memory being something like this before I stumbled to the tent and the safety of a horizontal positioning.Race day morning dawned with cool temps (in the high 40s), beautiful clear skies and Nico sawing logs in the hammock/womb and the damage from the night before present everywhere including an open, untouched Stone Ruination that left most of the racers in a total state of shock.Thanks to Nico the jerk I stepped up to the line with a colon full of gas (thank you Braquitos) that left some of the non racers gagging and this fine stallion to ride.But on the first descent the flask loosened up and I had to pull to the side for a quick repair which put me in DFL. Slicing through the field I had made solid progress until I came upon Coach Ryback snapping pics which meant only one thing, stop and have a social shot of Del Maguay. After countless miles of kick ass singletrack we had a long section of road to spin it out before the wall of climbing showed. The reward at the top was a bar set up by the Lawman featuring PBRs and trail towels to dry off with. The Lawman was snapping photos so I made a point of pulling out my junk for a feature shot.Never one to pass on a good time I dropped the bike trailside had a social beer with the Lawman before setting out for the second half of the race (which I learned would be nothing but singletrack). Back out on the course I caught with Sasha, introduced myself and partnered up for a few miles. As we rode down one section of connecting road we were faced with what looked to be a giant sand tsunami which turned out to be the local quarry. Retracing our last couple of miles of riding we found the missed turn and were off into the woods making up for lost time. With Sasha leading the women’s class I marked her and ran interference for a time on the next climb. Soon after the rains started and combined with the countless river crossings I was getting down right cold. Several times, after long stretches in the woods with no one in sight I began to question if I was on the right course and if not was I to become a slave of the backwoods folk, forced to stoke the fires of the stills for the remainder of my life. In fact on several occasions I retraced my route until I came upon T-tocs and knowing that he and bro Tropical Storm Mason had set the course I rode on in comfort. All of this came in one of the sweetest sections of trail that also happened to be T-tocs favorite trail and view – I was getting the best from the locals! With the rain now pouring we removed our glasses, toweled off and headed back out on the trail. At the last water stop we were told 2 descents and 2 climbs to the finish, well after 4 descents and 3 climbs and with the odometer was showing race distance in the books (I had no idea how much backtracking I did) again I became concerned with getting lost in the Ozarks. Once again I resorted to the now infamous C-Dubs back track until I again came upon T-tocs who got a good laugh when I realized that I had turned around less then ½ mile from the finish and rode about 2 miles back down the trail.
Finally the sounds of jerks eminated from the woods of Middlefork and I was at the finish but was so cold I didn’t have the energy to flip off Coach Ryback. Waiting in the parking lot was one Nico Toscani, master wrist snapper, ruler of the singlespeed class and winner of this fine trophy.Having finished early on he was there to give moral support to yours truly and T-tocs, setting us up with beers and providing all of the towels we would need to dry off after we called “Service” and stripped in the pouring rain. Once changed it was into the car for heat, beer and Oxycodine to relieve the pain that reared up once the race was over.With Bratquitos and a non race under my belt the final leg of my initiation was soon to be complete as we rolled into the parking lot of the one and only Dos Primos (and the one and only Dickey Bub in existence where I am sure you can buy everything from diapers to ammo).Entering the establishment we were greeted by Juan who immediately inquired “ your usual table Mr. Toscni?” and once seated served up with an order of Dos Primos dip. I don’t know what was in it but I wanted more before the first bite was done. Of course there was only one thing to chase such a meal down with and it was the mother of all margaritas.With our pie holes stuffed it was off to St. Louis to unload the car and get whisked off to an evening of bliss at the Ritz Carlton where I was hooked up in style (king size bed and balcony) by Mr. Toscani. In the morning I was escorted to the exclusive Ritz club at the top of the hotel for this incredible breakfast.Unlimited espresso from this mood lit $8,000 espresso machineand dessert from the worlds only cookie humidor.Simply put the life of a Team Seagal member in St. Louis is the ticket to being treated like royalty. I can’t wait for a return to some of the finest trails I have ridden and one hell of a great group of guys to ride with.
On a final note a big round of applause to Tropical Storm Mason, Coach Ryback, the Lawman and Gino Fellino (who bravely pulled sweep duties in the rain) for putting on a great non race.

Is This The Confirmation That The Dinosaurs Are Extinct?

2011-04-28T07:35:00.012-04:00

Well fellow devotees of the big wheels, you might recall one of my past writing about the extinction of dinosaurs such as the 650B our beloved Infantile Tom likes to ride (despite a limited selection of forks, wheels & tires). So enamored is Tom with it's quirkiness, he has often been seen shedding tears of happiness after a venture through the trails of Stewart, and as more beers are consumed he willingly spews countless virtues of it's superiority to big wheels (kind of like a less endowed guy claiming size doesn't matter).
Rumors are running rampant through the region that Infantile Tom's beloved Vicious Cycles frame has incurred the dreaded headtube crack and while we feared the worst might have befallen our dear friendwe were relived to know that he was safely back at the shop pitching tents and generally f*#king off in the stock room.
The ability to save the patient is in question as Vicious Cycles founder, Carl, has disappeared off the face of the planet. Our search for him on the Internet did came up empty and eventually we were directed to the US Consumer Product Safety Commission where we found this drawing.Completely distraught over the potential loss of his dear 650B, the NECS did what any good friend would do and directed him to Newburgh's local shop that would have the expertise to make the repairsbut due to the recent fallout between Paul and Paul Jr. there is speculation that the frame has been cut in half with each side taking a piece and is a central point of the pending lawsuit between OCC & Paul Jr. Designs. Stay tuned to the Discovery Channel for more details as this exciting story unfolds.

MFXC - Time To Rumble

2011-04-20T18:20:00.001-04:00

With SSAP in the books it's time to head to the great Midwest, land of Budweiser and PBR for some serious ass kicking, wrist snapping fun. We'll have almost as much fun as Steven.

Singlespeed-a-Palooza (aka) Monte-a-Palooza

2011-04-17T18:45:00.020-04:00

Well my dear fans of the New East Coast Syndicate, after an aborted start to the season that saw all of us bail on the Tour of the Battenkill this weekend we finally kicked it off and in style. The Mayor and Raveinator had spent the past week prepping the woods for Singlepseed-a-Palooza, perhaps the largest gathering of wrist snappers on the East Coast. Having suffered through SSUSA, the Mayor was as determined as ever to ensure that on one came away from SSAP in anything less then full shattered mode. The course, having undergone minor revisions when a early preview ride left yours truly heading for the parking lot early and a number of the other riders in a state of shock by the time one lap was over, turned into another mudfest (recall this event)- when once again it rained on the Mayor's parade and close to 2" of rain was put down on the course in under 10 hours resulting inRace morning dawned cool but sunny with the inner circle of the New East Coast Syndicate/MRC gathered around the FJ assault vehicle for a prerace round of egg rolls and green tea.
Top Chef/Code 420 The Beloved Braveheart Yours truly (sporting the special edition number plate) Of course this being a singlespeed race meant one thing was certain, C-Dubs would be riding his trusty steel IF with a flask full of Del Maguay mounted to the frame. As the synergy of the impending race spread through the parking the NECS was pulled from all corners by a mysterious vortex to a central location to pay homage to the Mayor and the great god of agave.
Then there was a man on a mission, 2 time defending champion Mike "Monte" Montalbano, my feared and revered teammate from the 628 challenge and he was prowling the grounds like a cougar circling for the kill, sizing up the competition and getting the game face on. Well this was the last we would see of good old Monte until the post race party. Lining up for the start Braveheart and I made the decision that the race for last place and the case of Terrapin Moo Hoo was to be ours and ours alone so when the gun went off we slowly rolled off the line just in time for the start of the women's division. By the time we entered the woods Braveheart and I were in the mix for DFL but still had to let a few of the ladies slip past which was easily accomplished as we passed through the start/finish area and took our first Del Maguay/PBR break. I mean the first 2 miles of a race can be pretty brutal and really work up one's thirst.
Going into the woods for the run up Scoffield (aka The Trail From Hell) we were able to get a taste of (literally) what was in store for the day. The long climb up was pure mud bog and, still being in a somewhat coherent state of mind, I did the smart thing and got off and walked. This was the last I would see of Braveheart until a PBR was passed my way in the finish area. My vision quest to finish last and take home the Terrapin required me to hone my trackstand skills as the pace at the back often made me feel like I was going in reverse. About a mile from the end of the first lap there was a red blur and I almost dove for cover in the woods fearing an attack from Muslim radicals with RPGs.Turned out it was good old Monte putting a real big hurt on the field and it took almost 5 minutes before DJ Birch passed me right at the finish line. At the top of the climb DJ gave a nod and commented to me on what a race it had been. I merely turned, pulled a fresh draft from the keg and responded "yeah and now for my second lap, trying to finish last is tough". As I rode off, beer in hand, he was still standing there, mouth agape, trying to comprehend what C-Dubs had just spewed from his pie hole. Out on the second lap it was more of the same, walk, trackstand, drink from the flask then ride. Coming up to the final two miles I caught up to a guy that had been riding the entire second lap with a wheel that was tacoed so badly it had rubbed all of the anodizing off the inside of his Lefty (good thing it wasn't a carbon sl!). I really felt pretty pathetic trying to stay behind this one but with 23 miles in the books in last I wasn't about to give it up like a drunk girl on prom night (easily)even though he truly deserved it for such an effort. The final section of singletrack had perhaps the best waterhole of the day and I stopped at the top set up for the photo shoot.And believe me there were plenty more of these on the trail that day.
Now you have to ask why is this man smiling? (he thinks the was last and had won a case of Terrapin, only he wasn't)So ends another mudfest at Stewart and now it is off to St. Louis for MFXC non race.

Non Tour Of The Battenkill

2011-04-09T05:12:00.014-04:00

Yes my good friends and loyalistas of the New East Coast Syndicate, it is that time of the year we all wait for with great anticipation. Springtime and warmer temps while being one of them is not what I had in mind, rather it is the official start of the season and the spring classics.
While the pros in Europe have been battling it out at the great classics such as Milan-San Remo, Gent-Wevelgem and the Tour of Flanders, we too have been doling out the pain with our own (at least in our minds) classics. Among these are the Chinaman 100, that ends with spectacular explosions on the famed climb of the Mur de Hopheads. This features a leg snapping climb at the finish with a profile Phil Ligget has referred to as "my favorite pub stool", and it's super steep finishing ascent (with a final pitch of close to 85 degrees) that has been known to make many a rider collapse face first after draining the winners coveted crystal stein.So brutal is this race that only two riders dared to take on it's challenge this year.
And no one takes on the Darkhorse-Peekamoose-Darkhorse with any less respect. The gradients of the climbs might be significantly lower but the backwoods pave will test even the best wheelsets and rider's mechanical skills while the shotgun toting, moonshine swilling locals that line the gradual slopes of the Peekamoose climbmake for close racing in the peleton. Riders treat this climb with special respect as getting spit out the back of the caravan could lead to a life of slavery cutting wood and man servicing toothless hags that defy the logic of even the most serious beer goggles. Past years have seen the winning attacks launched from as far out as 45k as riders fuel up at the famous espresso bar Jack & Luna's but the backside up the Alp d'Minnewaska is where the field is typically shattered and the sprinters relegated to the back of the pack.
This weekend it was time for not only Paris-Roubaix but The Tour of the Battenkill, upstate New York's answer to the elitism of the Euro cycling scene. Rolling up the line for this year's classic would be NECS team of Muttonchops, Bill the Lobster, Senor Aqua (fresh off another crushing victory at Beer Cross), Top Chef, C-Dubs, Infantile Tom and Braveheart (who was considered the hands down fastest descender this year). The organizers, in battles with the UCI and USA Cycling over the participation of Pro Continental and ProTeams, ended up moving the race from it's traditional Saturday pre Paris-Roubaix slot to Sunday and direct competition with the UCI calendar. Immediately upon this announcement Braveheart threw his Lampre kit in the face of Director Sportif, Giuseppe Martinelli, declaring "take your Euros and shove them, I am going back to the good old US of A for some real racing".
With the starting gun fired the team immediately went to the front, turned up the burners and let the rest of the peleton know that if you want to be in contention on this one you better have a ticket for a ride on the pain train. Crossing the fabled covered bridge and approaching the opening climb Top Chef moved to the front and set tempo up the climb, towing the rest of the NECS over the top. The rest of the field was shattering with tongues hanging out like dogs ready to lick some, well you know what, and the pain train whistle blowing. Through the rolling sections the NECS put on a virtual clinic in team time trailing with pulls being shared by all and the pace leaving the smell of melting clinchers for the rest of the field to enjoy. With a sizable gap on the field established the pace was throttled back as we went through the feed zone and fueled up for upstate New York's version of pave - unpaved, pothole riddled back roads. During one of the longer descents Braveheart moved to the front and demonstrated his skills at mastering the Newtonian theory of gravity, stringing the entire team out in a 70kpm snake down the mountain. Senor Agua and Muttonchops moved to the front and provided the leadership as we scrambled over the rollers leading up to the final climb of the race. At the base Top Chef once again moved to the front and set the tempo with the entire team riding nose to tail. On the final descent to into the finishing town of Battenkill it was Issac Braveheart Newton moving clear of the rest with unparalled skills on the descent. Rounding the final corner it was going to any ones race to win and as I dropped a gear and zipped up the jersey to prepare for the finishing sprint and a shot a glory suddenly it all went wrong and the alarm clock went off letting me know it was time to get to the chores around the house.
The moral of the story - slotting such a powerhouse team into one of the latest starting time slots, driving 4 hours up racing 3 hours and driving 4 hours back to the city and hitting the sack after 10 pm on a Sunday made about as much sense as this.Intelligent minds prevailed and we bagged the race and spent the weekend getting in some equally kickass riding and were able to relax and enjoy the 2 days off from work.

NECS/MRC Non Race # 1 - Chinaman 100

2011-03-19T20:06:00.040-04:00

With the winter blues finally coming to a close and Frosty the snowman making his final appearance for this winterthe founding fathers of the MRC answered the call of spring with the only thing an organization of such power and magnitude could possibly consider - Non Race #1 - The Chinaman 100.
With a slight chill in the air and our significant others out on the MRC/Chick Division ride, Top Chef and I donned the requisite gear of leg warmers, insulated gloves, booties and chop sticks for an all out assault on Sampsonville Road and the famed Minneswaska grinder (as opposed to the even more infamous Alp d'Minnewaska). Rolling out of the church parking lot we were charged by this crazed looking creature which we managed to avoid right before it exploded into a ball of fire, smoking reindeer pelt and a few choice tenderloins.Apparently, in a response to the NECS breakup of the Islamic terrorist ring at Stewart, NECS Breaks Up Terrorist Ring At Stewart, the freaky looking Libyan leader Moammar Gadhafi had dispatched a battalion of suicide reindeer to put a hit on Top Chef and C-Dubs. With the ride heading into the backwoods of Kerhonkson we were going to have our game face on to survive the onslaught of attacks that were sure to come. By the time we descended off Sampsonville the only scare came from a nice gust of wind that threatened to send the S.S. C-Dubs and the now infamous ENVE sails for a bit of off road action but a superior attitude and superior state of mind kept me upright and powering to our first break of the day.
The cool conditions were taking their toll on us and by the 25 mile mark, with no espresso shop in sight, we stopped at an abandon diner where we fortified our mental prowess with a dose of tiger blood and goji berries. A few minutes were spent contemplating the viability of tossing the towel in at work and setting up a bike/espresso/craft beer stop - then fond memories of Stupid F*#king Customer IPA came to mind and we were off for the first round of espresso before the day's big climb.
Jacked up on a double and with 35 miles in the books we hit the base of Minnewaska and agreed there would be no hammering on this one, too early in the season. Well my good friends, being thoughtful and courteous cyclists, we stopped to assist a lost motorist. Seems our motorist was not your run of the mill leaf watcher out to see the state parks, rather our motorist was, shall we say, one that likes to hang with his homeys and was waiving an envelope with the local prison address on it in a desperate attempt to hookup with his leaderwhile his girl (complete with mustache) was in the car polishing something bright and silver.For those that don't know the region, Newburgh is home to some serious Latino gangs and wearing the IF kit with this logo clearly displayedyou can imagine that my primary concern was not the climb ahead but what his gang affiliation was. While I nervously tried to keep the situation calm Top Chef was circling in the background running a check on the plates and marking Maria to make sure she didn't pull a MAC 10 on us (considering each of our bikes was worth more then his car this was a legitimate concern). I must have been wearing the right "colors" as cooler heads prevailed and we sent him to a place with a familiar name, the Vallejo station.
It was really becoming a very bizarre day, exploding reindeer, gang bangers lost, looking for prison, what else could happen? Well loyal fans plenty more and it came not a 1/2 mile up the road when we entered the twilight zone, were momentarily sent to the future where we came upon good old George Zubalsky pushing his bike up the climbFurther up the climb I could only look on in envy as Top Chef showed the advantages of not only 11 speed Campi but also those (at the time sexier then a pinup girl) compact chain rings. My friends I can assure you that the entire time I was out of the saddle with spittle flying old TC was spinning up the climb like a nun on the way to Sunday school. At least on the descent I would have the bigger gears to power away, but I also had the bigger wheels and thus watched TC disappear like a setting sun on the descent while I held on for dear life. In fact it was so hairy that I had to stop by the farm stand and towel off all of the sweat pouring off of me.
Team MRC Pimp Rides - After this, in a state of eternal bliss, we cruised the west banks of the Wallkill until we hit Rosendale. From there it was a short spin to High Falls for the final espresso of the day. Along this stretch I must have really gotten into the zone taking a long pull at the front, only problem was I had no idea what was going on, totally spaced out and kept forgetting to point out the rough sections to TC. Having had enough TC took the lead and, excited about the looming espresso station, dropped it down a gear for the final climb and dam near forgot to keep pedaling. It was only C-Dubs coming along side and the prospect of more pothole carnage that snapped him out of this stupor.
Finally we pulled into High Falls and the final double espresso.mmmm munchieswhere Top Chef engaged our server, Ming Li, in deep conversation.It was during this time that she revealed the greatest secret known to man kind, where to find Shangri-La. And find it we did as we made the turn for home. Like a thunderstorm when the air is electrified and smelling of ozone, the air in High Falls was equally sweet and electric but had a distinct smell of hops. Like Hillary and Everest or Shackelton and the South Pole, we truly had discovered Shangri-La.When it was all said and done we had to agree that this t-shirt really captured the spirit of the season's first Non Race.

Toasted

2011-03-08T22:07:00.011-04:00

No I don't mean thisor thisor thisor even thisWhat I am talking about is this, Texas Toast Ti Seven, Top Chef style.
Sweet customer forkEven sweeter Campi Record 11 speed hooked up to Reynolds 35 carbon clinchersThe finished product

Lampre Signs NECS Rider!!!!!

2011-03-08T11:11:00.005-04:00

The recent onslaught of winter training has left several of the top European pro teams concerned about thier abilities to compete with the Dark Horse Cycles team in the Cat 5 45+ group at the upcoming Tour of the Battenkill.
Having witnessed the superior attitude and superior state of mind C-Dubs achieved during his guppy laden performance under the tutelage of Monte at the 628 challenge, a number of team members have taken up the torch (and this winter the snow shovel) and are training Monte style in the early season. Having scorched the roads of Ulster and Sullivan counties with more miles then a Tour de France, the word among the top director sportifs is that Dark Horse Cat 5 riders are a force to be reckoned with and you should pull out all the stops to sign them.
Absent from the winter training has been Top Chef (boot camp training), C-Dubs (doing his impersonation of a gerbil on the wheel with his rollers) and Braveheart (in super secret European training with Jan Ullrich).
Well it turns out that Lampre has made the first move and signed Braveheart to a spring race deal. Our stealth reports in Europe caught this shot of Braveheart after another "training" session with Jan at the local éclair shop.

Cosmetic Surgery NECS/MRC Style

2011-03-06T21:15:00.002-04:00

We here at the NECS/MCR tend to get bored during the winter months with all of the snow and cold weather. Past years have seen the focus on building new bikes for the coming season but this year we decided the time was right for a bit of cosmetic surgery and a bit of augmentation. No not this kindbut this kindThink of this pair as the double d's of road wheels. Sure there will be times they are a pain in the ass but they sure look great!
The project started out with an inspection and repaint from the gang at IF, laying on the coats of Thahitian Pearl so sweet that in sun the color flips from black to deep blue/green. This was finished off with silver decals, the combination a result of a consultation with Top Chef, the team's artistic genius. (Here is a shot of TC's freshly repainted "Texas Toast" Seven awaiting the upgrade to Campi 11 speed)Next up it was SRAM Red, but once the Mayor had the ceramic bb on there was a problem, not enough pop, so back into the spare parts box it went and right out of the showcase came the silver Chris King BB and to pull it all together a silver King headset and Thomson seatpost collar.With the components on we caught this shot of the Mayor making the final adjustments to the drops after setting up the Gore RideOn cables.Finally the finished product I can't wait for the warmer weather to find out if it is harder to ride in the wind with a pair of theseor tie your shoes with a pair of these

NECS Exclusive - First Interview With The Mayor (Sans Kegerator)

2011-02-09T14:40:00.008-04:00

With the sun setting over the Nile and the Koranic verses coming from the minarets around Cairo, there was a news flash of such magnitude that news crews immediately headed for Cairo International Airport for the next flight to Newburgh. Using years of experience honed in Afghanistan, NECS freelance reporter Christine Amanpour pulled out her silver plated AK-47 (a gift from Hamid Karzi), held the rest of the investigative reporters at bay and landed this exclusive interview with the Mayor -

C.A. - Mr. Mayor,

Mayor - Christine you can drop the Mister part, like a supermodel I go by one name - Mayor!

C.A. - Sorry about that Mayor. Getting back to the important matters at hand. The recent protests in Cairo and Tunisia, what impact do you see this having both globally and for Dark Horse.

Mayor - Well old Hosni is learning what I have known for years, you can only suppress the masses for so long and then they rebel. Unless of course you have the massive dictatorial powers I have - the bike shop - then they are like putty in your hands. Globally, once the masses take over, since they are poor there is no way they will be driving, unless you are the lucky first 100 to get into the palace garage and steal one of the Bentleys. Therefore they will learn what the Chinese and Dutch have known for a long time, bikes rule. To position DH Cycles for the onslaught of demand I have secured the next 5 years of production from Taiwan and through my connections at Al-Jazeera have set up a web based distribution network to cover the sub Saharan and Middle Eastern markets.

C.A. - Dark Horse, at first sight appears to be a modest operation, fully capable of handling the demands for roadies and mountain bikers from the region. How do you plan to ramp up operations for such a global project?

Mayor - Two words - Raveinator & Coffee. Combine these two and you have more power then a 3 megaton thermonuclear device.

C.A. - But is a wired up Raveinator all you need, how will the shop handle the volume of assembly?

Mayor - Well Christine, it was a tough decision but it came down to bikes or booze and in a moment of delirium I picked bikes and tossed the kegerator out the back door. Right now with the cold weather it isn't an issue, put'em in the snow in the morning and they are ready for consumption later in the day. Now later in the year I could be singing the blues but I live for the moment. Speaking of which, hey Raveinator can you get me a beer. Besides the kegerator has a great new home with Top Chef.

C.A. - Is there any truth to the rumors that DH Racing will adopt an Islamic influence, giving up alcohol and having women riders in burkas?

Mayor - Yeah right, give up alcohol! What drugs are you doing? As for the burka thing well that could be a bit more interesting, it will add a bit of mystery to the team and we could even sneak a ringer into the women's class. Speaking of giving up alcohol, hey Raveinator, can you make sure that kegerator gives up another beer to me ASAP. I don't want to see anything extra in that six barrel by the time this interview is over. Hey Christine, you prefer a regular or pint glass?

Economic Recovery Spurs Crisis At Dark Horse Cycles

2011-02-09T13:09:00.005-04:00

It has been a very trying couple of years for our country. Everyone, well most everyone, has had to tighten the belts and pull back from using the house as a piggy bank to fund a lifestyle. Well in the words of Bob Dylan, the times they are a changin' and for some of us that might not be a such a great thing while for others it is a really good thing.
Over the years everyone become callous to various comments made, after all talk has is, has and always will be cheap. But today my good friends, I was caught completely off guard - on several fronts. Our spiritual guru and guiding light, the Mayor, was back from a recent trip to the sunny desert of Arizona for a bit of racing. Seems our good Mayor was hit with a bad case of the flat tire blues, loosing his first to a cactus needle and the second to a faulty tube. Then, in a way that was almost so subtle you could easily miss it, the Mayor mentioned that "if I had only used Stan's". Now these words are right up there with a Republican saying "sure, it's time to hike taxes on the rich" or a Democrat saying "let's cut spending on social programs and go with a flat tax", things so sacred people never thought they would ever be uttered.
Then in the interests of the ever expanding business at Dark Horse, the Mayor came out with the phrase no one would have ever bet against. Seems with the increasing volumes of business, the Mayoral one has had his hands full fixing and assembling bikes. Despite the brand new shop it was already time for an expansion in the work area. Then out they came, with almost the same relaxed attitude as Stan's, the words we all thought could not be spoken - "the kegerator is gone, I needed more room in the shop". I mean what the hell is he thinking, get rid of the kegerator to make room for work, clearly the Mayor was still suffering from a severe case of Arizona sunstroke. Our crack reporter will be back with an exclusive interview with the Mayor.

Saturday Snow Shoveling Shit Show

2011-02-05T17:09:00.006-04:00

Old Chinese proverb - He who has flat roofed house shovel lots of snow. And how true, today was another marathon session totaling 6:38 of shovel time followed with spreading 1000lbs of salt and loading/unloading a resupply of 600lbs.
It was this depth over 2400 sq ft
And it made a pile this high after I cleared the man cave roof
Then I did what any sane person would - finished it off with an Oxycodine (yes it is my scrip) washed down with a shot of Del Maguey and finished off with a Corona. Finally after an hour I am beginning to get a bit numb.

New East Coast Syndicate Under Investigation By WADA/Novitsky For Doping

2011-02-04T05:04:00.010-04:00

A U.S. federal probe into doping in cycling involving C-Dubs former team, The New East Coast Syndicate, may be slowed by legal hurdles in pursuing the inquiry in Amsterdam, sports lawyers said.
Former rider Raveinator is among three Dark Horse racers who knew the inside of the NECS team led by C-Dubs who said they haven’t been questioned by investigators now focused on American witnesses.
Jeff Novitzky, a Food and Drug Administration special agent, interviewed ex-rider Hawaiian Mike, according to Mikesquatch's wife, Mistress Betsy.
“It will be very difficult to get an arrest warrant” outside the U.S. because in Amsterdam doping isn’t seen as a serious crime but rather a social event, Ingmar Dogman, chairman of the Netherlands Association for Sport and Law, said from his favorite coffee shop, De Dampkring. “They can always ask to talk to waitress but there’s no legal obligation.”
Floyd Landis, stripped of his 2006 Tour de France title for doping, said in a May 1 e-mail to USA Cycling Chief Executive Officer Bob O'Pedic that he saw C-Dubs engage in "extracurricular activities" outside his cabin at the Cohutta 100 in 2008. C-Dubs, 53, and the team’s sports director The Mayor, say Landis’s claims aren’t credible. They deny any wrongdoing.
When caught by reporters leaving the Hip Preservation Center at the Hospital for Special Surgery, C-Dubs was evasive when questioned what procedure he was involved in. A subsequent search of the medical disposal bin turned up several syringes with DNA matches to C-Dubs. Under further questioning by Agent Novitsky, C-Dubs insisted that he is only being treated for a hip condition and has not failed any drug tests and when confronted with evidence of a cortisone steroid residue on in the syringe he responded "I have never knowingly taking performance enhancing drugs". Asked to explain why he no longer had a slight limp C-Dubs simply snapped "shoe lifts for men" and stormed off to the waiting stretch limo.

You can bet this felt good going right into the hip joint!

Grand Fondo - MRC Non Race #1

2011-01-31T16:07:00.017-04:00

The inaugural Gran Fondo MRC brings Italian cycling culture (yes you will see Top Chef on the new Campagnolo equipped Colnago) to the world's greatest group of riders on Saturday July 9, 2011.Join the Millionaire’s Riding Club on a challenging 100+ mile course from Sand Hill Road to the far reaches of Sullivan County and back in an experience fit for a pro and open only to those that hang with the Mayor. This unprofessionally managed event will feature the excitement of starting in Gardiner, at least four climbs with KOM large format IPAs to the winner of each, beautiful scenery, charming towns and the camaraderie of group cycling. Gran Fondo MRC is an Official Qualifier for 2011 Beer Cross (but participation is not mandatory to qualify for Beer Cross).

Background: Gran Fondo is a challenging, 100+ mile bike race, a concept stemming from Italy. You can think of it as a marathon on bicycles. At Dark Horse NY, there are long-course bike rides, singlespeed-a-paloozas, and 40 mile trail races. Here is where Gran Fondo MRC is different: it is a long-distance challenging ride that appeals to competitive racers and beer swilling cyclists alike. In Italy, a Gran Fondo has 1,000 to 10,000 participants, covers at least 100 miles and goes over challenging terrain. In France and the UK, this style of racing is known as cyclosportives.

Course: The undulating terrain of the course will challenge participants’ strength and stamina with at least 5,000ft/1,524m of climbing. The Gran Fondo MRC course will take participants from Gardiner to Kerhonkson, around the Roundout Reservoir and into the stunning mountains of Sullivan County. After arriving at the Ashokan Reservoir riders will break at one of Top Chef’s favorite haunts for lunch and espresso before tackling the steep side of Peekamoose and finishing off with climb to the Minnewaska State Park entrance. The five-mile climb up 44/55 will serve as the final big climb and make you realize that you have survived. After the high speed descent, riders will regroup and bring it home to Casa de C-Dubs for a well earned BBQ and cold beers.

UCI World Beer Cross World Championship Qualification: Four challenging climbs will count towards the King of Mountain competition and the UCI Amateur Beer Cross World Championship qualification. The top 10% of each Age Group will qualify for the 2011 UWCT World Championship in Belgium.

There is no timing or competition over the whole course. However, athletes have to complete the full course to be eligible for prizes and Beer Cross World Championship Qualification. Race your hearts and guts out on the climbs but enjoy the rest of the ride in international company.

Support: Yellow MAVIC cars will not offer technical support on the course and instead will be supporting the Tour de France. In fact you might get more support from a used jockstrap then you will from the MRC, but hey we're all friends so everyone helps everyone or we slash your tires. At each espresso stop, there will be food, drink, portapotty (that means the bushes). Volunteers will be present on the course at any turn on the course to attempt to send you in the wrong direction. Volunteers on motorbikes will be circling the course as well, ready and push you over and blast exhaust at you on the steepest pitches. Along the route, participants will not enjoy well-stocked rest stops (since there aren’t any). A great post-race party will await participants (would you expect anything less from the NECS) at the finish line. Not feeling it on the day? We won’t have SAG vehicles so suck it up and ride your sorry ass to the finish line like the rest of the peleton.

Prizes: Winners of each of the KOM climb will receive a special large format IPA or growler. The overall KOM will ride home on a new CIPOLLINI PODESTA road bike (yeah right, you will ride home on you own bike, what do you think we are – RICH?). Other prizes may or may not include MAVIC racing wheels, used Sidi shoes, smelly Giro helmets, completely ass worn Specialized saddles and much, much more (mostly the old crap I can't sell). Additionally, raffle prizes will be distributed throughout the awards ceremony.

Entry Fee:The entry fee for each participant is a six pack of beer and some food for the post ride BBQ (we don’t ass rape you like those other Grand Fondos). Included in the entry fee is a custom NECS spoke card, which is mandatory for the event. The event goodie bag, "pacco gara" will contain various products from event sponsors. If you've registered but are unable to participate, you may transfer your spot to someone else for a $50,000 transfer fee by May 31, 2011. NECS fees and credit card processing fees are third party fees, Gran Fondo MRC is not responsible for third party fees.

Travel Booking: Gran Fondo MRC is working with travel agencies in Italy, Germany, UK, Ireland, Australia, France, Spain, Bermuda, South Africa and Toronto. Please check the Gran Fondo MRC blogsite for travel partners. All athletes have the option to register directly and handle their own travel. Or they can book their travel and registration through an official GFMRC travel partner in their region.

Team Competition: If you are cycling for a team in GFMRC, please make sure that each teammate writes the name of the team in the exact same way during the registration process to be easily matched up in our records. A team name can be a cycling team, a him+her team or a tandem bicycle. Tandem bicycle teams are not eligible for competition awards, in fact no teams are eligible for awards or welcome at our event.

Flat Roof Blues - More NECS Alternative Training

2011-01-31T16:02:00.002-04:00

He with flat roof must shovel often in heavy snow season.
This is the house and the garage was just as big a job. 3:53 later and I was done. The random spots in the snow are the very cold beer motivators.

Winter Training - NECS Style

2011-01-28T21:40:00.003-04:00

With the snows continuing to amass here in the Northeast indoor training is in full swing. We have these exclusive shots of the Raveinator re hydrating after a day of shoveling and snowshoeing.Take note that the Beer Cross Trophy never sleeps.

P(enis)90X

2011-01-27T11:50:00.003-04:00

Recently there has been rash of NECS absenteeism from the traditional rides, such as New Year's Day, with most notably Infantile Tom and of course Mikesquatch not making the call. With the Full Monte and MacGyver in full on training mode despite the record snowfall this month, we deployed our investigative reporting division to ply the backwoods of Goshen New York to find out what multiple blackbelt/dojo master/wrist snapping 650B singlespeeder Three Beer Rossi was up to.
Seems the studly physique of MacGyver have been firmly embedded into the mindset of Three Beer and he has come under the cult like influences of Tony Horton and his infamous training program P(enis)90X. The NECS paparazzi caught this shot of Infantile Tom (should we now call him Wossi?) flexing his stuff to the animals of Stewart State Forest.

New Year's Day

2011-01-06T10:54:00.014-04:00

With the youth of mountain biking still tucked into bed (or for some a sleeping bag at the Cub Scout camp) the NECS masters (not ass-masters or masterbaters or masters of the universe) rolled into the parking lot of Dark Horse HQ jacked up on coffee, special New Year's Day treats and the anticipation of the first drafts out of the kegerator at the end of the ride.
The snow on the ground was still somewhat fresh and temps had been high enough to ensure that this year's annual New Year's Day ride would not turn into the figure skating spectacular of past years where the special MacGyver home made studded snows were required.
Joining us for a rare guest appearance was Sal Muttonchops, truly the Chinaman, as work has had Sal toiling in the sweatshops of China and Taiwan assuring us of top quality bikes.Of course not joining us, once again, was Mikesquatch (no doubt at Katie Cougar Scouts) and Infantile Tom who had another tent sale (he seems to think waking up with morning wood under the sheets qualifies as a tent sale).
The ride itself was uneventful with the team slogging through the snow like a pack of wolves with the only drool coming from our mouths in anticipation of the arrival at the kegerator.At what most of us thought was the closing stages of the ride, the Mayor threw in the traditional "I am the ruler of Stewart, follow me" move and we sucked it up for an additional 45 minutes. Of course during this time some of us realized that we had left our trail towels at home and almost went into convulsions. Having recovered, we turned our attention to getting back to the giant hero and cold beers. During this dire time, the lack of food and beer had some of us thinking of cannibalism, but one thing that never left our minds - what had become of the "butties" Mike and Tom. Convinced that the whole Cub Scouts and tent sale stories were pure sham our deviant little minds came up with these -

Mike & Tom Holding Hands While Sharing A Post Race BeerThe "Boys" Out DancingMikesquatch In His Sunday Best
Cruisin' For Cub Scouts
New Year's Day Polar Bare Club Meeting

Backwards/Forwards - A 2010 Retospective

2010-12-27T14:22:00.044-04:00

The end of the year is one of the few times that I attempt to get philosophical. It is the time where I look back at all of the pleasure and pain that was endured and to delve into the future and try and conjure up what it might have in store. (For all you non loyalistas this is the equivalent of a Cliff notes version of the blog.)
2010 was an incredible year, not so much in the performances that were put down (although 628 & Cathedral Pines were sweet) but in all the cultural experiences (Giromania), great times that were had (Sedona, Singlespeed-a-Palooza, relocating Dark Horse Cycles, Raystown Lake, Beer Cross), freindships that were further built up (Doctor Wesley McLearn, Obamador, Monte, the Kegerator), the trials and tribulations of having to deal with my first season riddled with injury (hip & ribs, missing Cxmas) and the birth of Marci de Sade's daughter Isabelle (who no doubt will be a force to be reckoned with on the Cx circut).
Not one to break with sacred traditions, the crew of Dark Horse Cycles gathered at the future home of the new HQ to kick off the 2010 season with the New Year's Day ride/barbecue/Kegerator training session. What didn't surprise any of us was the lack of Mike "MIA" Davidson, what did surprise us was when his cougar, Katie, pulled into the parking lot of HQ and with a look that only a boy toy could appreciate and announced "if any of you losers even try to take my toy out for a ride I am going to grab you by the nuts, rip them off and put them in a jar on the mantle next to Mike's". Well by the time the last words came spewing out of her pie hole we were all clipped in and heading out of the parking lot faster then you could say "lick my sack and call me Jesus". It wasn't going to be a good year for the Mikesquatch!
Still smarting from the late season injury (and not yet knowing just what was going on) I was not going to let it deter my plans for the year even after a visit to the surgeon revealed just how extensive the damage was and what the solution to my problems would be.With Top Chef, Braveheart and I prepping for our WADA sponsored trip to the Giro (Operation Space Cake) in Amsterdam,we all decided it was time to finally get into a road race to better understand the mindset of the racers to ensure proper research would be completed over the span of the weekend in the land of bicycles. Enter the Tour of the Battenkill, the queen of spring classic racing in the Northeast. But before we could embark on this new aspect of racing it was off to Sedona to meet up with Doctor Wesley Mclearn of Team Seagal, the sweet singletrack of Sedona and of course the now infamous "El Charro", simply the best margarita to be had.Fully trained from almost a week in the desert we set off for TdB fame (Top Chef and I both making the top 20 in Cat 5) a week of recovery and then to what is now a benchmark race on the East Coast - Singlespeed-a-Palooza where I Singlespeed-a-Booza'ed my way around the mudfest and had a total blast.After 4 days cruising the canals, consuming copious amounts of strong Belgian & French beer, touring the Red Light District, doing our best to complete the Zagat's Guide to the Coffee Shops and riding bikes around the city at all hours of the day and night we all came to the conclusion that the entire peleton was doping (how could you not in this city). If we had to pick one city in the world to work in we could suffer with doing it here. Sure it might lack the culture of NYC but you can ride everywhere and everyone was a lot more mellow (gee what a surprise).Returning from the Giro, the NECS had a bit of a cycling epiphany and at the behest of Top Chef the subsidiary corporation, Millionaire's Riding Club (MRC) was formed so that those of us that grind it out Monday - Friday would have a crew to road ride with, push the boundaries in distance training (and add membership to the guppy gallery) and throw in some alternative riding at Diablo.
By the time August rolled around, the Mayor and Raveinator were getting established in the new Dark Horse HQ (with the Mayor in command).Meanwhile JJ (the newly crowned Fat Chick with Hot Girlfriends), Mrs C-Dubs and I were rolling into Coburn for Pennsylvania's version of running with the bulls, the Wilderness 101. Conditions were perfect with Mrs C-Dubs making the first 40, C-Dubs throwing down a pr and Fat Chick popping his dirty century cherry with a Terri Ti Saddle busting time of 11:30!
With a successful summer of riding in the books I sashayed into the Labor Day weekend looking to put the finishing touches on my conditioning for the Vermont 50, where a good chunk of the team was to be deployed to inflict maximum carnage and wrist snapping on the field. Well the only sashaying I did was to the doctors office to check out the ribs I broke that Friday on the season's first night ride (worst of all is they were broken on a hike-a-bike section), well so much for the Vermont 50. Next up was the trip to Raystown Lake where Major Mike lead the charge as we slaughtered the trails like cattle in a Chicago meat house. This was followed up with the Dark Horse 628 Challenge, a mtb orienteering non race in the Forests of Stewart where the never before seen Poecilia C-Dubus Montalbania Reticulata made multiple appearances and was pushed (literally) to victory by Monte.Taking the knowledge and pain I learned to endure from my stint with Monte it was off to the 6 Hours of Cathedral Pines. Here we were blessed with 10 mile laps of sweet flowing singletrack with less then 300' of climbing per lap. Six hours and nine minutes later I had 70 miles in the books and the top step of the podium, along with Mrs. C-Dubs and this sweet hardware.Well riding for 6+ hours in 40 degree weather and then standing around for 3 hours waiting for the computerized results did my hip no good and soon everything had tightened up so much I could barely get a leg over the bike. This didn't manage to deter me from having a go at Beer Cross where Senor Agua defended his title with a beautifully executed projectile vomit into the trash can if front of yours truly.The real problem was the combination of Cathedral Pines, setting up Beer Cross and then riding it the next day killed my hip and I was barely able to walk. It was with great sadness that I had to inform my good friends in St. Louis that the Grinch had stole my Cxmas.
So where does this leave me for 2011? Well to start out the season I will be heading to St. Louis for unfinished business at the Middle Fork XC Non Race with Team Seagal. Having completed early season training and perfecting wrist snapping techniques it will be off to the Tour of the Battenkill. From there it will be in for a check on the condition of the hip to see if the slicing and dicing will have to take place this year of if I can possibly hang on for another year. Then it is Singlespeed-a-Palooza (and you're a loser if you don't make this one), followed by numberous MRC century training rides before heading to Coburn for a 9th straight go at the 101.
At the urging of Major Mike some of us will head back to Pennsylvania for the countries longest Cx race, Iron Cross, to be followed up with the 628 Challenge, 6 Hours of Cathedral Pines and Beer Cross. If I am really feeling sassy there could even be a return to St. Louis to for the inspiration of Beer Cross - Cxmas. So until the New Year comes and we set out on our annual ride, have fun and party hardy.

Happy Holidays From The New East Coast Syndicate

2010-12-24T07:05:00.004-04:00

The Grinch That Stole Cxmas

2010-12-16T19:06:00.017-04:00

Every dog has his day and certainly the last dozen or so have not been mine. With the arrival of the really cold weather so has arrived the pain in my hip. Having struggled through Beer Cross where I could barely get over a barrier, I have had to throw in the towlie and skip the very race that served as inspiration for Beer Cross - Team Seagal's Cxmas.
Having secured my preferred race number, 69, and a flight to St Louis to enjoy some PBRs/Buds, I was excited as, well, you know from before. Team Seagal, my hosts for the weekend, had made arrangements to rival Bret Michaels on a Rock of Love episode. Upon arrival in St Louis I was to be greeted by my limo driver and swiftly delivered to prime seating at the bar in the Ritz Carlton where Russ would ply me with the cocktails of choice. There I had a king size suite on the top floor for post race celebrations. Once the proper buzz was attained Russ would call in the Seagal Swat Team for extraction to headquarters where I would meet the rest of the team and commence a briefing for the night's party. From there it was to The Hub where I would not only be offered a bevy of fine rides from the quivers of the team but be the first at the shop party.
Then the next morning a "ridiculously huge breakfast" (Dos Primos?) before heading out to race. And surely some out of control partying afterwards. Well as I sit here writing in a vicodin haze at 2:00 in the morning I have come, sadly, to the realization that I will have to miss this monumental event. As a thank you to my hosts I present my version of How The Grinch Stole Cxmas, enjoy.

Every Jerk
Down in Jerk-ville
Liked Cxmas a lot...

But the Grinch,
Who lived just North of Jerk-ville,
Did NOT!

The Grinch hated Cxmas! The whole Cxmas season!
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
It could be that his wrist wasn't snapped quite right.
It could be, perhaps, that his briefs were too tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that his tool was two sizes too small.

But, whatever the reason, his briefs or his cleats,
He stood there on Cxmas Eve, hating the Jerks,
Staring down from his cave with a sour, Grinchy frown
At the warm lighted windows below in their town.
For he knew every Jerk down in Jerk-ville beneath
Was busy now, hanging a Energor wreath.

"And they're hanging their stockings!" he snarled with a sneer.
"Tomorrow is Cxmas! It's practically here!"
Then he growled, with his grinch fingers nervously drumming,
"I MUST find a way to keep Cxmas from coming!"
For, tomorrow, he knew...

...All the Jerk girls and Jerk boys
Would wake up bright and early. They'd rush for their bikes!
And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!
That's one thing he hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!

Then the Jerks, young and old, would start off on a ride.
And they'd ride ! And they’d drink!
And they'd ride! drink! ride! drink!
They would start on Jerk egg nog, and rare Jerk Chinese food
Which was something the Grinch couldn't stand even in his mood!

And THEN
They'd do something he liked least of all!
Every Jerk down in Jerk-ville, the tall and the small,
Would ride close together, with Cxmas bells ringing.
They'd ride wheel-to-wheel. And the Jerks would start singing!

They'd sing! And they'd sing!
AND they'd SING! SING! SING! SING!
And the more the Grinch thought of the Jerk-Cxmas-Sing
The more the Grinch thought, "I must stop this whole thing!
"Why for three years I've put up with it now!
I MUST stop Cxmas from coming!
...But HOW?"

Then he got an idea!
An awful idea!
THE GRINCH
GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!

"I know just what to do!" The Grinch laughed in his throat.
And he made a quick Seagal Claus hat and a Seagal coat.
And he chuckled, and clucked, "What a great Grinchy trick!
"With this coat and this hat, I'll look just like Seagal Nick!"

"All I need is a 29er..."
The Grinch looked around.
But since 29er’s are scarce, there was none to be found.
Did that stop the old Grinch...?
No! The Grinch simply said,
"If I can't find a 29er, I'll make a Jenken Cycle instead!"
So he called his dog Max. Then he took some red thread
And he tied a Nite Rider on top of his head.

THEN
He loaded some tubes
And some old empty Co2
On a ramshackle singlespeeder
And he hitched up old Max.

Then the Grinch said, "Giddyap!"
And the bike started down
Toward the homes where the Jerks
Lay a-boozin’ in their town.

All their windows were dark. Sweet smoke filled the air.
All the Jerks were all dreaming sweet Cxmas dreams without care
When he came to the first house in the square.
"This is stop number one," The old Seagal Claus hissed
And he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist.

Then he slid down the chimney. A rather tight pinch.
But if Seagal could do it, then so could the Grinch.
He got stuck only once, for a moment or two.
Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue
Where the little Jerk helmets all hung in a row.
"These helmets," he grinned, "are the first things to go!"

Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpleasant,
Around the whole room, and he took every present!
Power Taps! And bicycles! Riding glasses! Gloves!
Bib shorts ! Tricycles! Handlebars! And Rims!
And he stuffed them in bags. Then the Grinch, very nimbly,
Stuffed all the bags, one by one, up the chimney!

Then he slunk to the icebox. He took the Jerks' PBR!
He took the Jerk-Dos Primos! He took the “egg rolls”!
He cleaned out that icebox as quick as a flash.
Why, that Grinch even took their last can of Jerk-hash!

Then he stuffed all the swag up the chimney with glee.
"And NOW!" grinned the Grinch, "I will stuff up the tree!"

And the Grinch grabbed the tree, and he started to shove
When he heard a small sound like the coo of a dove.
He turned around fast, and he saw a small Jerk!
Little Sasha-Lou Jerkaroo, who was not more than twenty two.

The Grinch had been caught by this little Jerk daughter
Who'd got out of bed for a can of cold beer and a shot of water.
She stared at the Grinch and said, "Seagal Claus, why,
"Why are you taking our Cxmas tree? WHY?"

But, you know, that old Grinch was so smart and so slick
He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick!
"Why, my sweet little tot," the fake Seagal Claus lied,
"There's a light on this tree that won't light on one side.
"So I'm taking it home to my bikeshop, my dear.
"I'll fix it up there. Then I'll bring it back here."

And his fib fooled the child. Then he patted her head
And he got her a stiff drink and he sent her to bed.
And when Sasha-Lou Jerk went to bed with her cup,
He went to the chimney and stuffed the tree up!

Then the last thing he took
Was the log for their fire.
Then he went up the chimney himself, the old liar.
On their walls he left nothing but hooks, and some wire.

And the one speck of food
The he left in the house
Was a crumb that was even too small for a mouse.

Then
He did the same thing
To the other Jerks' houses

Leaving crumbs
Much too small
For the other Jerks' mouses!

It was quarter past dawn...
All the Jerks, still a-bed
All the Jerks, still a-boozin’
When he packed up his singlespeed,
Packed it up with their helmets! The tires! Handlebar wrappings!
The tags! And the tinsel! The trimmings! The trappings!

Three thousand feet up! Up the side of Mount Strumpet,
He rode to the tiptop to dump it!
"Pooh-pooh to the Jerks!" he was grinch-ish-ly humming.
"They're finding out now that no Cxmas is coming!
"They're just waking up! I know just what they'll do!
"Their heads will hang over a minute or two
"The all the Jerks down in Jerk-ville will all cry BOO-HOO!"

"That's a noise," grinned the Grinch,
"That I simply must hear!"
So he paused. And the Grinch put a hand to his ear.
And he did hear a sound rising over the snow.
It started in low. Then it started to grow...

But the sound wasn't sad!
Why, this sound sounded merry!
It couldn't be so!
But it WAS merry! VERY!

He stared down at Jerk-ville!
The Grinch popped his eyes!
Then he shook!
What he saw was a shocking surprise!

Every Jerk down in Jerk-ville, the tall and the small,
Was singing! Without any bicycles at all!
He HADN'T stopped Cxmas from coming!
IT CAME!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!

And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be so?
It came without handlebars! It came without seats!
"It came without tubes, Co2 or saddle bags!"
And he puzzled three hours, `till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before!
"Maybe Cxmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store.
"Maybe Cxmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!"

And what happened then...?
Well...in Jerk-ville they say
That the Grinch's 26er
Grew three inches that day!
And the minute his bike didn't feel quite so tight,
He whizzed with his load through the bright morning light
And he brought back the bikes! And the PBR for the feast!
And he...

...HE HIMSELF...!
The Grinch carved the Dos Primos!

2010 Beer Cross - Waters Throws Down Then Up To Win Big

2010-12-06T11:06:00.041-04:00

Here at the New East Coast Syndicate we like to close out the riding season with a bit of a party that is disguised as a race - Beer Cross - and for those that are involved in the set up and planning (C-Dubs and the Ewok of Moab) it tends to spill over, literally into a 2 day bender. This year was no exception as the IPAs started flowing Saturday morning as I staked out the course, and subsequently spilled into the shop with the Mayor where we both attacked the kegerator with zeal.
Those non racers that were astute enough to register not only were rewarded not only with spokecards but swag never before handed out at a non race, these custom growlers to hold you beverage of choice.Heeding to the cries for mercy after last year's slaughter of the dizzy bat, this year's event featured a bevy of options for each lap that included egg nog (with or without rum)and it's 13 grams of fat per serving.White Castle sliders, PBRs, hot peppers (habaneros & jalapenos) and of course the famous bat. Even the most serious of non racers paid heed to the race organizer's threat, to do to them what a dog locked in for the night does to the first tree it comes upon after being let out, and came out in costume.

HazelRicky Bobbie "If you ain't first your last"Ricky Bobbie's RideNaughty NunThe CrewAs the riders stepped up to the line, The Stig finally released the months of pent up male tension at not having Mikesquatch to ride with and did his best Madonna/Britney Spears rendition as he locked the young cougar cub in a bromantic moment of love.And I say moment because right after this, as Mrs Mayor gave the starting command, our tech gurus at C-Farms caught this shot of Mikesquatch and the drag queen C-Dubs both tripping The Stig at the line.With the sprint on, Top Chef lead the charge to the bikes where the mandatory consumption commenced. Immediately pre race strategies played out with Senor Agua making fast work of his PBR and setting a blistering early pace. Meanwhile Top Chef and The Stig (aka Infantile Tom) were waving for someone to come and give the Heimlich maneuver to each as they literally chocked down a pair of White Castle sliders.There were even a few brave souls that started the run with Jalapenos in mouth.
As the laps ticked by there were several strategies being deployed by the riders. True partiers showed their colors with devotion to the PBR section that rivaled any orthodox religious sect, even taking breaks to consume several beers before heading back out. Another group adopted the strategy of consuming a different offering each lap but fast learned that the 2 minutes heating up the sliders resulted in rather slow lap times. Finally the speed merchants showed their true colors and after a couple of laps of PBRs opted for the Habaneros with El Obamador being the first to take the bite.First taking a cautious bite, commenting that "these aren't that hot" and then taking the rest of the Habanero in one bite before riding off on his next lap. Coming around to the pits on the following lap El Obamador, with tears streaming from his eyes, went straight for the PBRs and according to witnesses took down a couple trying to put the fire out. At this point it was too late for him to get the word of caution out and Habaneros were going off the table faster then promo dresses in a limo. The highlight of hot pepper option came when Bunny Rabbit hit the pits and in a quest for glory grabbed one of the Habaneros, consumed it in one bite and rode off into the sunset.C-Dubs happened upon this poor sole later in the lap while prancing over the barriers
only to see a man in tears with snot pouring out of his nose and a plea for liquids you would expect to hear from a man in the middle of the desert.
Always one to go with the crowd, Senor Agua pitted from the lead and went straight for the Habaneros consuming the biggest one in a single bite and speeding back out onto the course. C-Dubs, during one of his "social PBR pit stops" witnessed this act of bravery and was so dumbfounded he could do only one thing, drink yet another beer and wait for Senor Agua to hit the pits on the next lap. Perhaps from watching countless episodes of Man vs. Food, Senor Agua pitted with fire in his eyes in quest of dairy product to calm the burn. Well that meant egg nog and with the zeal displayed over the past laps he grabbed the biggest glass and chugged, hoping for instant relief. And get it he did, immediately launching a stream of egg nog, sliders, PBR, Habenaro and bile into the garbage can leaving C-Dubs speechless and grabbing for yet another PBR. No sooner had he emptied and it was off on the bike for more laps. In the closing laps Top Chef witnessed yet another purge by Senor Agua,clearly he had paid close attention to section in the non rules around puking on the course (and when you let it fly in front of the race organizer you really score points with the judges) and was doing all he could to secure the top step.
When the dust had settled, snot wiped away and puke cleaned off it was clear one non racer stood above all others in showing true Beer Cross spirit. The hands down, and throw up, winner and defending champion was none other then Senor Agua.

(Yeah I had a few to drink before shooting this sideways)
Podium Hardware
Winner and Defending ChampionIn second place, making a rare guest appearance was Katie's little cub Mikesquatch Davidson and in third, for leading the charge in the Habanero department was El Obamador. The special douche bag award went to last year's consolation prize winner, The Stig (aka 3 Beer Rossi).

2 Days To Decision Time

2010-12-03T13:25:00.008-04:00

Choose your race strategy wisely on each lap and you too could be the winner of Beer Cross 2010.

Yummy Pabst
Seasonal Egg Nog
Hangover Sliders
Delicious Peppers
The Throw Up Bat

Get Out And Vote!

2010-12-02T17:55:00.003-04:00

Look to the right and cast your ballot on whether Mikesquatch will show up for beer cross or claim there is another cub scout meeting at Katie's penthouse.

Beer Cross/Cxmas Race Preparation

2010-12-01T21:30:00.004-04:00

Weather is getting colder which means the hip is beginning to hurt more, a lot more. One thing is sure, nothing is going to get in the way of Cxmas and Beer Cross, the mother and daughter of all Cx racing. When all else fails turn to the real chinaman and suck it up as the needles go in. A few more sessions of this and hopefully all will be better.

6 Hours Of Cathedral Pines -Sweet Singletrack Leads To The Top Of The Box

2010-11-21T20:27:00.030-04:00

There are a lot of things that get the NECS excited about riding but the prospect of extracting one's self from the confines of a really warm bed to go out in 40 degree windy weather (praise Allah it was sunny) and race for 6 hours is not one of them. What did make this tolerable (like a coffee & Kahlua for breakfast after a big bender) was the promise of a 10 mile lap of nothing but buff singletrack with only 300' of climbing per lap and knowing that when it was all over I could begin to focus my training on Beer Cross and Cxmas by drinking copious amounts of alcoholic beverages.
In the world of real estate it is location, location, location and it is not much different when racing the clock. The last thing you want is a shitty pit position by the Port-O-John where the stench of every rider's deposit is lingering there for your aromatic pleasure lap after lap. With that in mind Mrs C-Dubs and I set off for Cathedral Pines about the time that smart vampires are heading home. Well the payoff was big and we slotted the Audi assault vehicle right next to the exit from the timing stations ensuring that a)stops would be fast, b) the Mrs (when not riding) would be performing her role as world class bottle bitch and c)the chance for some good pictures as we came out of the timing station would be high. Not to mention getting there early ensured no waiting in the cold registration line and first shot at the goth themed hoodys and hats (decorated in skulls)the boys from Something Wicked Endurance Racing had to offer to keep you warm.
250 riders, a mass start, less then 1/2 mile to the trail head entrance and 10 miles of twisting singletrack ahead meant only one thing - the entrance into the woods on the first lap was going to be akin to stuffing 20 lbs. of shit into a 5 lb bag. To prevent being a part of the pile o' poo, Muttonchops, Senor Agua, MacGyver and I all slotted into the second row while Mrs. C-Dubs opted to head to the back and get a good laugh watching the ensuing chaos. The gun went off and suddenly it was a mad dash up the opening road climb with riders doing anything to get on the front. Maybe it's the lap format or that most of the riders are from the XC discipline that drives this mentality (as opposed to the 100 milers which roll out at a casual pace for a long day in the saddle) of jostling for every last position in the first 3 minutes of a 6 hour event, but whatever it is I joined in and made the entrance into the woods before the big steaming pileup arrived. The jam ups continued over the first couple of miles where all the climbing took place and once over the top of the third climb Senor Agua and MacGyver put the wood down and disappeared into the distance as I settled into my zone with Muttonchops right behind. Mrs C-Dubs, this being her first foray into pure singletrack riding was in a class of her own at the back taking in the scenery and just having a down right good time.
By the third lap I had caught Senor Agua who was having a tough go with the ever loosening EBB and the resulting chain drops.Muttonchops, not having raced since the Dark Horse 40 was lifting off the accelerator and planning the fourth lap landing in his folding chair to take in the rest of the race and on the sixth lap I caught up to MacGyver who politely upped the pace until there was a good passing area (and on this course they were as rare as a virgin on Rock of Love).
Crossing the line for the sixth time at 5:15 into the race I knew it was the final lap. Having learned at the 628 Challenge, compliments of Mr Monte Montalbano, just how deep one can really reach when needed, I took the bottle hand off from Mrs C-Dubsand sped off into the setting sun for my final lap, slipping off my fastest time by only 2 minutes. Based on the previous year's times and a course that was billed as harder, I crossed the line in 6:09 feeling pretty comfortable on taking the win, headed to the car and toweled off before changing into some warm clothes.
In a true Alzheimer's moment I then realized I had failed to pack any fine yeasty malted beverages for the post race celebration and a quick check of the finish area showed no beer being served. Finally a couple hours after the last rider was in and we witnessed this beautiful sunset.I then realized what happened to the beer - clearly the organizers had done their best to consume all of it before the race was over and must have succeeded because it took 2 hours to post the computerized results and another hour to finally hand out the hardware. In the end both C-Dubs and the Mrs took home top honors in the Master's class, well worth the wait for these kick ass medals!Unless of course your skill sets were good enough to get one of these at the Dark Horse 40.With hardware in hand and the Mrs. behind the wheel we set off for the casa de C-dubs where it was an immediate bacchanalian orgy (who the hell wants food after all that riding - bring on the wine!) where our consumption rate would have challenged even David Hasselhoff to keep up. Now on to some real important races - Beer Cross and then off to St. Louis for the infamous Team Seagal Cxmas!

Mrs C-Dubs Rules MastersC-Dubs Taking Top Honors In Masters

Don't Be A Loser

2010-11-19T08:37:00.008-04:00

Do you really want to show up for the Sunday rides and have everyone that was intelligent enough to register for Beer Cross to flash you with this gang symbol -Because if you don't get in now you will seeing a lot of that sign from these intelligent registrants
#1 - Senor Agua
#2 - Braveheart
#3 - Raveinator
#4 - Infantile Tom
#5 - Anonymous Special Guest Rider
#6 - Tom "Hobo Slayer" Hill
#7 - Obamador
#8 - Jocelyn Linscott
#9 - Mike Montalbano
#10 - Another Anonymous Special Guest Rider
#11 - Jim Boyd
#12 - Bunny Rabbit (so excited he registered twice!)
#13 - Jeff Baringer (friend and lover of the bunny)
#14 - John Vicari
#15 - Adam James
#16 - Mikesquatch
#17 - Siren of Stewart
#18 - John Delavalle
#19 - Chris Vohl
#20 - BR Delaney
#21 - Tom Pannorfi
#69* - C-Dubs
#420* - Top Chef
#El Jefe* - The Mayor
* - Limited edition spokecards are not indicative of the total number available

Beer Cross News Flash

2010-11-18T21:21:00.022-04:00

Rumors are sweeping the country that Mike "Mikesquatch" Davidson (a.k.a. Hawaiian Mike) is poised to come out of retirement for one final fling on a bike at this year's Beer Cross. Immediately the New East Coast Syndicate dispatched ace reporter George "The Mayor" Zubalsky for this rare one-on-one interview at CBS studios with Mike's favorite cougar.

Mayor - "So Katie, what finally prompted Mike to come out of retirement for Beer Cross?"

Katie the Cougar - "I agreed to let him out of the cougar den for this one last fling with all of you beer guzzling children provided he agreed to tongue massage my feet after every broadcast"

Mayor - "Did Mike have to give it much thought"

Katie - "The yes answer came out of his mouth faster then shit out of a goose's ass. He kept mumbling something about mama bring me another Dale's, baby wants to have some fun"

Mayor - "Do you have any concerns that Mike might flee the den and take up residence in the storage shed at Dark Horse"

Katie - "Why would he? I provide him with an NYC penthouse, a ball gag and an unlimited supply of Depends for those days when I have to work late."

Mayor - "Well you would think the opportunity to drink copious amounts of PBRs and Dale's with his cycling buddies could lead him astray"

Katie the Cougar - "Not a chance, my boys down at Langley have inserted a tracking device where the sun don't shine so there isn't a chance in hell that my little cub is going to get away from mama. In fact as soon as I drag his sorry ass back home he's going to give me the foot licking of my life and then it is off on a cruise from heaven - cougar cruise

Mayor - "I have to admit that sounds pretty tasty, I mean the cruise, not your feet. Any room for me?"

Cougar - "F' off, grow some love handles like my, prrrrrrrr, cub and I might consider it, otherwise beat it and go play with your bikes."

How To Win Beer Cross

2010-11-18T15:16:00.005-04:00

If you can beat this you will be declared the winner!
This has nothing to do with beercross except for the beer but we really liked it.

Non Rules Amendment

2010-11-09T15:08:00.006-04:00

Here at the NECS we are not a bunch of stubborn old race organizers/rule makers, in fact we are always looking for new and creative input to make hallmark events like Beer Cross a cult classic right up there with Rocky Horror Picture Show, Eraserhead and all the Steven Seagal movies. And how do we (I) do this, by listening to the fans that make it happen. So with that I bring you the latest "per lap option" at Beer Cross - HOT PEPPERS!!!! At the behest of one Hobo Slayer, there will be a bowl of hot peppers at the pit stop and you can elect to make one of these your choice for the lap. I have to complement Hobo Slayer since hot peppers tend to make people consume lots of fluids to calm the heat which means either beer or eggnog - choose carefully!

Girliemen Quit Your Whining!!!

2010-11-08T14:27:00.010-04:00

I am hearing a lot of whining out there that the per lap non beer options are too stiff! What the hell do you expect, this is beer cross not your sister's sweet sixteen party, c'mon buck up and take it like man if you aren't going to drink. But to accommodate all of you nook suckers, I have changed the rules slightly and added an interesting one as well. Gone are the days of manly men chugging full PBRs each lap, now it goes like this -
- 45 minute race
- Alcohol consumption can be substituted for non drinkers - 1 cup of beer = 10x around the dizzy bat or 1 cup of eggnog, 3 sliders or eat one entire hot pepper
- Non Racers will be DSQed for not doing one of the options
- Serious racers will automatically be DSQed (this is a non race)
- No penalty for puking (in fact it could move you up in the overall standings)
- Costumes Mandatory – 10 minute or 3 beer penalty at the start for not wearing one the entire race (and if you come in kit and claim to be a racer I will personally piss on you)
- LeMans Start
- Mandatory beer/10x dizzy bat/12 oz eggnog/6 sliders/hot pepper prior to mounting bikes
- Mandatory cup of beer/10x dizzy bat/cup of eggnog/3 sliders/hot pepper per lap
- Dismounting mandatory at the Growler Barriers (2 beer/20x dizzy bat/12 oz eggnog/6 sliders per lap per barrier penalty for not dismounting)
- First across the finish line in the riding portion has to do a shot of tequila/20x dizzy bat/24 oz eggnog/8 sliders
- Winner is determined by fastest time/most beer/egg nog/slider/hot peppers consumed/best costume and race committee's discretion
The adjustments are subtle but are still well within the limits of what man/woman is capable of and have been fully tested by an authorized Underwriters Laboratory.Tables will be set up with prepoured allocations of the fine spirits, egg nog (yes we will provide a dash of nutmeg and rum if you so desire) and a microwave for those that require heated sliders.

Beer Cross 2010 Spokecards/Party Favors

2010-11-03T09:12:00.021-04:00

As my good friends and fellow warriors of the midwest can attest, spokecards are a highly prized commodity and not cheap to produce - you know how much beer the Mayor requires for laminating these babies, a lot and it has to be good. Keep in mind there is a limited number of these bad boys to go around so I don't want you crying like MacGyver at 628 if you don't register in time to procure what will be the dominate race number on your wall. I won't tell you how many there are to go around but it's not a lot and the slots are filling fast (and no special, that number makes me ride better, requests). To date the following astute collectors of riding memoriabilia have been assured of ownership -

#1 - Senor Agua
#2 - Braveheart
#3 - Raveinator
#4 - Infantile Tom
#5 - Anonymous Special Guest Rider
#6 - Tom "Hobo Slayer" Hill
#7 - Obamador
#8 - Jocelyn Linscott
#9 - Mike Montalbano
#10 - Another Anonymous Special Guest Rider
#11 - Jim Boyd
#12 - Bunny Rabbit (so excited he registered twice!)
#13 - Jeff Baringer (friend and lover of the bunny)
#14 - John Vicari
#15 - Adam James
#16 - Mikesquatch
#69* - C-Dubs
#420* - Top Chef
#El Jefe* - The Mayor
* - Limited edition spokecards are not indicative of the total number available

Race Day Schedule
9:00 - Meet at Dark Horse Cycles for preride PBR
9:15 - Rollout for prerace road ride (race bikes and costumes mandatory on ride)
10:30 - Prerace meeting & start getting shithoused
10:45 - LeMans start
11:15 - Race ends
11:30 - Judges decision and awards ceremony

In addition to the spoke cards we want to ensure there is enough fine, tasty PBR, Egg Nog or sliders for everyone to slam down their pieholes each lap. And of course once your done puking your guts out we want to make sure there is a big enough hero and plenty of pasta to refill your empty stomachs. So get out there and respond either by email or blog comment to secure your number and help us figure out just how big a party to plan for. No using the childern as an excuse not to come, we will supply dog cages and a radiator with leashes to tie the kids up and to. Currently negotiations are progressing with Katie Couric to come and cover the event so there is an obscure chance that Mikesquatch might be released from the dungeon to come play.

628 Challenge - The Full Monte

2010-10-31T19:11:00.049-04:00

With the curtain finally down on the race season (we here at the NECS are not big fans of Cross racing unless it involves a lot of beer) and the Mayor firmly ensconced in the new Dark Horse Cycle HQ, it was time for the first official non race of the season - The 628 Challenge, essentially a 2 person team time trial/orienteering race.The melee of the past week had left me mentally exhausted and questioning where everything had gone wrong in life. I had even put the call into the Mayor, officially withdrawing from the race. With a lot of encouragement from the Mayor, a healthy amount of manual labor, copious amounts of fine wine and another night of deep sleep compliments of my good friend 10mg Ambien, I awoke on race day with a superior attitude and superior state of mind (little did I know just how much I was going to need it!).
Remember how you always imagined what it would be like to ride in the peleton of the TdF or what it would be like to have a go with the top endurance mtb guys in the country during a race? Well today was my lucky (unlucky?) day to finally find just what it was going to feel like - Monte had selected me as his teammate for the event! For those loyalistas of the NECS that don't know about Mike "Monte" Montalbano there are two words to describe him - Focused Animal and his vocabulary does not include the words "second place". This is a guy that on his first try at a dirty century went down to the Shenandoah 100 and smoked the singlespeed class with a winning time of 8:02 then went to the Mohican 100, gave the Harlan Price the "Lance stare" and proceed to grind him into the dust for another win. I was scared and starting having visions of what this was going to feel like.There was a lot of laughing and finger pointing in my direction on how little I was going to enjoy what was going to be served up to me shortly. I rolled with the punches and fell back into my usual preride antics at the starting line, undoing the QR on MacGyver's front wheel, tossing his bottles to the side and trying to let air out of his tires. Having had enough of the tomfoolery the Great Gatsbysent the first team out. Silence swept the field as everyone took note of the direction Bill Lobb & Old Bill headed off in. Old Bill is the Magellan of Stewart, having put in more trails and miles then the rest of us combined and if there was anyone that would know the shortest route it would be this team. One by one we headed out in 30 second intervals with only Obamador taking a different route, clearly this was becoming less of an orienteering event and more of a flat out race, oh god was it going to hurt!
Finally we came to the line with only MacGyver's team behind us and Monte finalizing our strategy - flat out! We rolled off the line and immediately were into a pace line for the first couple of miles to the entrance to Stewart and we were moving! Not satisfied with the ratios of an mtb cassette Monte had opted for a 12/25 road cassette and I was doing everything in my power to stay on his wheel. As we entered Stewart we caught our 4th team (Senor Agua, Jocelyn & Infantile Tom) and Senor Agua hopped on my wheel and stayed with us briefly until he realized his teammates were over 100 yards back in no time. The very astute Infantile Tom threw a couple of verbal barbs my way as we passed and they were all shocked and amused at my inability to respond. Finally, a sighting of the rarest of all Stewart creatures - Poecilia C-Dubus Montalbania Reticulata. While there was no confirmed pictures, DEA officials speculated the creature probably looked like thisBy the end of the race there had been numerous sighting of this frisky little guy and when asked to comment C-Dubs could barely speak, mumbling something about leaving his lungs back on the trail.
Arriving at the first stop, the old umbrella factory, Monte punched his card then turned to me and asked "where is your card"? Apparently in a moment as rare as a full solar eclipse, while the Mayor was handing out the rider punch cards, C-Dubs was in the DH HQ doing his best to shatter the porcelain and peel the paint off the walls (hey when you race with Monte every last pound you can shed helps) and I didn't have a card. Using lightning quick reflexes from his years of being a conductor on New Jersey Transit, Monte did the old double punch and off we went to LTD passing Old Bill's team right after the factory and solidifying our overall lead. (It should be noted that Infantile Tom, to shamelessly gain time, threw the hole punch to the other side of the factory). Rolling out from LTD we encountered heavy traffic on the single track. A couple of "love taps" to the some bar ends sent some riders into the deep weeds and we were off for the 15 minute bonus at Beaver Pond. Shortly after leaving LTD I had my last clear memory of the race when we took a wrong turn and Monte's killer instinct came out with "we just dropped 1 1/2 minutes". Back on the fire roads its was another all out pace line as we took the long way to the Beaver pond (probably a 2-3 miles of extra riding). Approaching the check point MacGyver came by in the other direction having already procured the elusive punch. At the post race party he commented how I was leaning to one side and my eyes were glazed over - another confirmed sighting of the C-Dubs guppy. Then came the line that I feared the most "we're at least 5 minutes behind - we have to put the hammer down" (what the hell had we been doing so far?). Shortly after this rumor has it that Fat Chick had headed for the wrong side of the beaver pond and when he spotted Infantile Tom shouted - I think I'm lost. To which Rossi simply responded, no shit, and rode off to the next check point (I'm surprised he didn't throw the hole puncher in the pond as well). Before I knew it we were coming up to the check point at Major Mike and MacGyver was right in front of us. Despite my dazed and confused state of mind I was able to quickly calculate that in just a few miles we had recouped 4 1/2 minutes and were back in the game! On the climb up Major Mike MacGyver's teammate, Chuck, faltered and despite my state of delirium I sensed he was in trouble and there might be an opening. As we came off of Major Mike ahead of MacGyver we still didn't have the lead but I knew it was time to dig deep and once again put the hammer down to the final check point - 46er, a rusted old 1946 Ford. We managed to hit the check point, retrace our route back out of the woods and onto the final road stretch for home without passing MacGyver. I might have been hurting really bad but knowing we were back in the lead is just what I needed to make the final stretch to the finish.
Out on the fire road it was, you guessed it, pace line time and soon we were on Not Over 40 Miles and Mr. Happy. Knowing Monte wasn't going to want to provide any free rides I shifted up and pulled along side as we went past hoping it would be enough to get a gap and discourage a chase. With Monte calling the gaps we came to the bottom of the final climb where my tank started running on fumes. Suddenly there was a bright light at the top of the hilland the climb became a lot easier. "We have 50 yards on them" snapped me out of my hallucination and I realized that I had in fact not met my maker but was getting a bit of an assist from Monte in the form of a push. Once over the top there was still a gradual rise but I managed to grab Monte's wheel and power it home to cross the line in 55:05 catching the Mayor napping in the shop as he expected times in the 1:30 range!
With all of the teams in, (except Obamador, who was as lost as his namesake's policy) and the beers flowing, the final standingswere about to be announced when suddenly MacGyver dropped his nook, crapped in his diapers, fell to the ground and started crying hysterically claiming foul because C-Dubs failed to punch his card. The Mayor, acknowledging that what C-Dubs had suffered through was worse then thisawarded first to Team Pain Train(To get Monte's perspective on the day take a visit to http://rigidnsingle.blogspot.com/) Amazingly second place was a dead heat between MacGyver/Scott and Not Over 40 Miles/Mr. Happy. Immediately the call went out from the crowd to settle it as real men do - with a bike toss. Mr. Happy, fearing the combination of beer and the centrifugal force from the throw would result in a Technicolor yawn, sent Not Over 40 Miles for the attempt
Next up, having changed his diaper was Spartacus, giving the ladies a full muscle flexbefore letting loose with this Olympic silver medal winning toss.
And finally in the 3 person team category and sporting a true Beer Cross attitude of having fun were Infantile Tom, Senor Agua and Jocelyn "Straight Arm" Linscott. With the awards out of the way, the consumption of beer increased dramatically along with the outlay of dogs, burgers and clams which, as usual, were handled masterfully by Top Chef. And while Infantile Tom had reached his 3 beer limit before the wife arrived, he and the Mayor embraced in past memoriesas other members of the team gave their opinion of what to do with 650B bikes.

Phantom Phest - Rage Of The Boogie Man

2010-10-28T16:22:00.018-04:00

Straight off the Raystown Lake massacre I had a few days back at home base to sort out the gear for this weekend's Phantom Phest night costume race. With the inbound supply of consumable alcohols building at the front door I opted to send Mrs C-Dubs off with the spirits and a bare minimum of riding gear, deciding to forage the man cave for the required equipment. Well on Friday as I prepped for the race I had that sinking feeling in my stomach that something wasn't right and it wasn't. The red Nite Rider pouches had been left behind! A quick call to the Mayor and text to the Raveinator and I was hooked up for the ride.
With Thor costume and hammer complete I planned to leave the hacienda at 4:20 which would allow for plenty of time to get there and even get lost on the way. Well not only did I get lost (the Tom Tom was taking me to the wrong wrong place) but right after we passed the entrance I realized my cape was still in the house. A quick shout of "I have no idea what's going on" and it was a U-turn with all 5.7 liters of Dodge Ram power screaming down the road. Some quick calculations by the Mrs and it looked like it would be touch and go to make the start, in fact to control the pace Mrs. C-Dubs was giving false time to destination readings to keep sanity behind the wheel. The plan worked and we arrived at the parking lot sans tickets/accidents with 15 minutes to spare. Mrs C-Dubs raced off to registration where she attempted to procure my number plate turned spoke card to no avail, I wasn't on the list. Suddenly it came rushing to her like a hot kiss at the end of a wet fist - Thor, God of Thunder - and sure enough fireworks went off and skyrockets shot into the air - I was in.Meanwhile back at truck I was busy prepping both myself and the bike while Top Chef tried out this mean machine.The Hobo SlayerWith enough glow sticks to supply a New York City rave, I set about securing them to every tube on the frame and fork to create the Tron bike. All I needed was a boom box with the Chemical Brothers and a bag of Ecstasy and this could become Fear and Loathing at Lippman Park.Special thanks goes to the Boogie Man/Raveinator/Shop Sidekick who pitched in to make sure it all came together in time for the prerace meeting.Similar to the affect of strobe lights on epileptics, the glow tubes were affecting the competition in a twisted way. Suddenly in the middle of the briefing a Roman gladiator pulled his sword and in stunned silence the peleton watched as Thor and his hammer took on the Roman and his sword.Braveheart stepped in, extended an olive branch and the two combatants hit Thor's flask of Del Maguay before the start.
Revved up on dumplings, Del Maguay and the power of Thor's hammer I hit out on the trails glowing like a remnant from Hiroshima. In the darkness I rode with the inner working of the minikeg coming loose and banging around incessantly. I could hear the cackling laugh of the Boogie Man as he howled my name whenever the course doubled back on itself.
Riding the lap holding the hammer in my hand was like hanging on to two handlebars which meant a minimal amount of front brake was available. Make for interesting riding when you venture onto new trails at night with limited capabilities to stop. Finally coming out of the woods on my first lap in 10th,I opted to hang with the ladies of the NECS (Mrs C-Dubs, Mrs Top Chef and Braveheart's calming force - Kate) unitl my fellow warriors crossed the line.Riding with this elaborate hood ornament proved to be a bit more then Top Chef cared to deal with for another lap so it was off with it's head, a shot of Del Maguay for all and off into the woods. As we raced into the night we passed howling ghouls, carved pumpkins in the corners and ghosts in the trees. On one straight with TC out front and Braveheart in close pursuit Top Chef took the opportunity to push the hanging man to one side with the evil intention of inflicting maximum carnage to the rest of us. Well good old Braveheart came up with the short straw and seeing the stuffed man he increased the cadence, lowered the shoulder and took it like a true Scotsman - right to the body. Suddenly on a night of the full moon there was another one right before my eyes and the kilted Scotsman was sent tumbling right over the handlebars with the biggest shit eating grin I had ever seen. Luckily no one was hurt and we were back on the bikes pedaling for madly for the romantic full moon over the field view and of course the mandatory shots of Del Maguay. With the flask empty we headed off to complete the second of 3 laps and once again a hello to the ladies. At this point Top Chef and Nancy (Braveheart) decided that antique shopping was the order of the evening so I mounted my trusty steed and headed off into the abyss. In an amazing display of wrist snapping capabilities,the Boogie Man bolted into the lead right from the start and was able to hold off the competition until the final climb where a spandex clad non costume racer with gears made the pass. A truly amazing effort from the Raveinator!!!!Coming down the finishing straight I had the Boogie Man (2nd overall) and Hobo Slayer (6th overall) cheering me on so I killed the lights to let the full effect of the Tron bike hypnotize the course marsahals who then declared my effort had resulted in second in Masters - finally the drought has been broken.

2nd Annual Beer Cross - The Non Rules

2010-10-27T07:59:00.008-04:00

With less the 6 weeks to go it's time to get more excited then our Chihuahua friend, perhaps this excited - This year we have bowed to the pressures of the non drinking contingent, not that this will make it any more pleasant or easier for those heretics, and will provide several options and a number of dizzy bats. Also there will be primo, never before given out swag for all that register and limited edition spoke cards to the first 25 entrants (so no pissing and moaning if you don't have one of these to hang on your wall).Without any further ado here are this year's non rules -
30 minute race
Alcohol consumption can be substituted for non drinkers - 1 beer = 10x around the dizzy bat or 12oz of eggnog or 6 sliders
Non Racers will be DSQed for not doing one of the options
Serious racers will automatically be DSQed (this is a non race)
No penalty for puking (in fact it could move you up in the overall standings)
Costumes Mandatory – 10 minute or 3 beer penalty at the start for not wearing one the entire race (and if you come in kit and claim to be a racer I will personally piss on you)
LeMans Start
Mandatory beer/10x dizzy bat/12 oz eggnog/6 sliders prior to mounting bikes
Mandatory beer/10x dizzy bat/12 oz eggnog/6 sliders per lap
Dismounting mandatory at the Growler Barriers (2 beer/20x dizzy bat/24 oz eggnog/12 sliders per lap per barrier penalty for not dismounting)
First across the finish line in the riding portion has to do a shot of tequila/20x dizzy bat/24 oz eggnog/12 sliders
Winner is determined by fastest time/most beer consumed/best costume and race committee's discretion

Major Mike Leads The Assault On Raystown Lake

2010-10-18T10:21:00.049-04:00

For several months plans had been in the works for an all out assault on Raystown Lake, PA. The plan was for the troops to head west under the shelter of a setting sun, arrive in Raystown, suit up, affix lights and go out and snap the wrists of any Amish or geared bike riders we encountered on the trails. Well the mission suffered a critical setback before getting off the ground when Braveheart had to answer the call to battle for an ad campaign and C-Dubs got the Heisman when he tried to bow out of the office early.
Due to the delays encountered by Braveheart and C-Dubs, Top Chef picked up the Toyota FJ assault vehicle and headed downtown to load up on Chinese food to satisfy our hunger on the ride West. You can imagine the pain encountered as we headed into the belly of the beast - the Lincoln Tunnel at peak Friday rush hour traffic - it is right up there with the 200lb fat lady trying to squeeze into a size 2 dress, uncomfortable and downright ugly.
Not wanting to spill any of our dinner we opted for the pretzels offered right at the tunnel entrance. Braveheart, a bit skeptical, opted out believing they are kept warm by placing them on various car engines and exhaust pipes. Finally we emerged from the tunnel after a time that seemed longer then any Chilean miner had recently endured. Passing through the tolls we were startled by what had to have been a contestant on the Price is Right driving home with the winnings tied to the roof of the car.With traffic finally flowing we stuffed our faces with Top Chefs selection of one from column A and two from column B and settled into the long grind into the night. There must have been something in the MSG because a couple of hours later we all had a real hunger going. Immediately Braveheart had the Incredible Thing (iPhone) working, locating a bevy of fine establishments down the road. Now navigating with the Incredible Thing is right up there with night riding with a pen light and sunglasses on - you can see just enough to get yourself in big trouble - and soon we found ourselves going in every direction but the right one. At that point Braveheart pulled out all the stops and looked like Rick Wakeman on the keyboards as he feverishly worked the Incredible Thing and the Garmin at the same time. Foolishly we even passed up on a sure things with McDonalds and a brewpub in quest of the perfect pizza. While all of this was going on I found myself contemplating just how good a forearm cooked over the manifold would taste. Suddenly out of the dark there is was, well not the one we were looking for, but it was a pizza shop. With lightning quick reactions achieved through years of training in the dojo, Top Chef put the FJ up on two wheels to make the turn and we were in like flint.Turns out our primal quest had returned nothing better then a back alley pie and worse then the pizza was the McNeighborhood which kept us on McEdge the entire time. Periodic deployments were made to the McParking lot to ensure the weapons of mass destruction were still intact.Arriving at the house we were greeted by the Mayor and Major Mike, both fresh off of a night foray into the wilds of Raystown Lake. Immediately the Mayor commented on what a dump it was (at least sans roaches and bed bugs), tossed us a beer and tuned back into the playoff game. As my eyes scanned the room I wondered if I had in fact been transported back in time to the set of All In The Family - the entire room, furniture & TV were straight out of the 70's.Hawaiian Mike once again was "at a Cub Scout meeting", gee what a shocker that was and Infantile Tom was MIA having opted for the annual tent sale/Deliverance canoe trip put on by Ski Barn.
Waking up from the devastation incurred from the previous night's Chinese food and countless beers, in my altered state I witnessed what looked like the Mayor springing from under the covers fully dressed (classic Cannondale DH jersey and slippers)and bounding down the steps to brew up a fresh pot of Jittery Joe's coffee - praise Allah! Once we were all thoroughly jacked up on Jittery Joe's, Top Chef set about feeding the troops the infamous Egg McPaul, a breakfast that can power an entire morning of singletrack riding.With stomachs full we headed off in cool windy conditions for an assault that was sure to go down in the annals of Raystown Lake history. Major Mike, smelling fast trails and competitive riders set an early pace that soon was taking its toll and producing some late season trail guppies.Not satisfied with the pain being doled out, Major Mike upped the pace even more and while attacking on one of the rolling sections Top Chef encountered the rare Pennsylvania sliding oak leaf. This pesky little critter usually lays in wait at the apex of turns, camouflaged by elms and maples, looking to take out unsuspecting riders and take him out it did. I was right on Top Chef's wheel and it looked like a round of WWE with the Undertaker hurling a helpless Top Chef to the mat. On the way down he made an attempt to give a goodbye kiss to a sapling and the subsequent rejection had his head spinning like a demon was being exorcised from within. As his head hit the deck a tremor ripped through the region and a tsunami was reported on the south end of the lake. The initial damage can be seen in this shot and by the next morning it looked like some wisdom teeth had been pulled. (note the copious amounts of pain killers in the background)After a 5 minute timeout to let the stars disappear the Major decided it was time to mellow the pace and take a spin on the Hydro Loop Trail, an awesome, flowing ride through the pines and deep forest of the area.
The Mayor Grooves On The Hydro Loop TrailHalfway through Major Mike brought the troops to a halt and decided to scout the lake for a potential swim. Suddenly while Braveheart, Top Chef and C-Dubs were breaking out the trail towels there was a rustling in the woods and we made a rare sighting of the Pennsylvania MayorsquatchFinally we rolled back into the parking lot for lunch and a well deserved break before the afternoon's assault on the southern loop. As we pulled up to the cars we were greeted by a bevy of young ladies that were doling out their own version of pleasure/pain on the mountain trails. Being a typical group of males we entered into casual conversation, the usual banter of where, what , when, how and why, but all the time we were in this state of mind.By the time it was all over and they rolled out of the parking lot we were contemplating changing the team colors from red to blue. As we readied up to hit the trails both the Mayor and Braveheart were mulling over whether to ride or not. A quick "are you boys going to go antique shopping" from Top Chef and they were back on the bikes and leading the charge to the trailhead (amazing the incentive a bit of brow beating can provide).
The agreed upon "casual pace" lasted for about a mile and then it was back to the hammerfest with the usual devastation and destruction in its wake. As we neared the final miles we caught this shot of the Mayor staring into the woods desperately searching for his willpower which seemed to have abandoned him late in the day.In the final stretch of trail Top Chef, showing his technical riding prowess, gapped Major Mike and C-Dubs in the final rock garden. With the Major right on my wheel I could feel the commands deep within his head - C-Dubs if you don't catch him by the end you will drop and give me twenty, you maggot - so I did the dirty century deep dig and hit the afterburners, getting Top Chef's wheel in the final 1/2 mile of riding. With the carnage done the final count of the day was 34 miles of wicked fast singletrack with over 3000' of vertical (except for the Mayor who some how managed to get in 44 miles - probably delirium). Suddenly a penalty flag was tossed as we looked into the back of the Suburban and realized the cooler was back at the house.
At this point survival instincts took over and we raced to the beer distributor like an ambulance taking a patient on life support to the hospital - balls out fast!You can imagine the disappointment when we realized that in PA beer is only sold by the case! With supplies procured the Mayor, fearing cardiac arrest, immediately opened the case and had the first beer down before Major Mike could unlock the truck.Back at the shack the Chugfest began in earnest to celebrate the day's victorious ride. After eating way too much food at dinner and drinking copious amounts of fine yeasty malted beverages the well lubricated Mayor suddenly had the munchies so it was off to the market where we stocked up with moon pies, 5 pints of Hagen Daz, cheese cake and a bag of Snickers. Fully engorged on food and beer we decided to burn anything in sight at the campfire where the Mayor, having caught C-Dubs doing the chicken, dared him to keep eating dumpling, claiming after each one consumed that he would pass out. Well dare taken and defeat acknowledged by the Mayor as he headed off to bed. Meanwhile a battered Top Chef proceed to pass out first on a picnic bench, then in a camping chair and finally in the role of Archie Bunker before we all called it a night.The following morning, feeling the pain and suffering from both the riding and drinking, everyone (except Major Mike) groaned and faced with long drives home, called it a day.
Back in the FJ assault vehicle Braveheart was busy with the Incredible Thing locating the nearest Starbucks before Top Chef went into convulsions. After two different Starbucks stops we reached the home stretch and the feared Lincoln Tunnel once again. This time is wasn't the traffic that did us in but the chemical attack Top Chef unleashed right as we entered the tunnel. With a choice of carbon monoxide or ass gas, I opt for the windows down until everyone was out of the vehicle and headed home.
Major Mike Leading The TroopsRaystown Lake From The SummitCDubs Gives The Team Seagal SaluteMayor Goes Gangsta After Numerous Dogfish Head BeersBackwoods Pennsylvania Bromance

NECS Welcomes It's Newest Member - Partying Pete

2010-10-01T16:48:00.011-04:00

Time for all of you affectionados of partying and riding to raise a glass to our newest member of the New East Coast Syndicate - Partying Pete D.
Pete happens to be, or was until today, a coworker of mine but has left the bank for greener (as in mucho dinero - hopefully) pastures. He has just the right mindset for membership in the NECS, total bravado, the willingness to do anything to get into a singlespeed race and the love of wrist snapping. In fact he went so so far that after missing the registration cut off for the infamous Singlespeed-a-Palooza, to gain entry, he offered to rest his nads on the top tube at the starting line and smash them with a hammer. Of course there was the trusty Mayor with ball peen in hand and as Pete lifted it toward the gods the Mayor screamed, "Praise Jesus you'll dent the top tube", and grabbed his hand, preventing certain horrifying pain.
As you can see from the shot below, not only does he has the ability to consume vast amounts of alcohol, spill food all over himself and smoke cigarettes even though he hates the things, he has mastered the Team Seagal salute. Well shortly after this shot the conductor shouted "Last train to NJ" but poor Pete was nowhere to be seen having fallen into the clutches of one of the many meccas of mammarys in NYC. Turns out the new office was initiated with it first drunk, unfortunately for Pete the a/c was out and he had the pleasure of spending a night on a desk in 85 degree heat.
Hung over, he managed to catch the first train home in the morning, give the Mrs. a quick peck on the cheek, take a cold shower and then head right back to the office. That's the type of dedication the troops of the NECS have!
Everyone give Pete the NECS shout out - "Him, Him, Fuck Him"

Top O De Box

2010-09-27T12:09:00.015-04:00

Well NECS loyalistas we come to you with the most exciting of news. Refining her skills through countless hours of training in the dojo, Mrs Dubs upholds the honors of the NECS, standing on the top of the box.
While the past racing has produced some great times for the NECS, the trophy bagging is about this bad over the past couple seasons
All that changed this weekend as Mrs. Cuds waded into her second tri of the season. The lake, sans snapping turtles and water mocossins, proved to be the hardest leg. Getting caught in the swiftfoot current along the banks of the lake Mrs. CDubs came out of the water a bit disadvantaged as the bikes rolled out of transition. Countless laps of training over the course paid off in a fast time and a close battle out of the transition to the run with Hairy Eye Ball Lisa who made countless attempts to body block the trail as they headed into the woods. Pacing like an expectant father as I fulfilled my role of bottle bitch, I scanned the trail for signs of Hairy and Mrs. C. Then out of the woods the Mrs. appear with the competition about 50 yards ahead. Suddenly vision of the Pancake and I feared that someone might get their lights punched out at the finish. A believer in karma the Mrs. did the right thing and held back crossing the line in honor.
Rumor has it she was heard to say "if that bitch is in my age class I'll kill myself. Alas she was in another class with the Mrs. taking home the hardware.The Mrs. and the infamous "Podium Dress"

Excitement Is In The Air - Beer Cross 2010

2010-09-20T13:07:00.005-04:00

Truly devout loyalist of the New East Coast Syndicate, remember back to those days of youth and the excitement that came with finding Dad's secret hiding place for his stash of Playboys? Well we here at the NECS might not get quite as excited to see Playboy as we were in those days, but when it comes to a Non Race we get as excited as this frisky guy -

And for good reason - Cross season is underway which means only one thing BEER CROSS!!!!! With the season essentially ended by the Labor Day ribfest, attentions and energies have been turned toward making this the marquee event of the cycling year. (There are rumors that we can not confirm at this time that Phil Liggett, Bob Roll and the crew from Versus will be covering the event). What we can reveal is that in keeping with Beer Cross tradition, costumes are mandatory along with the consumption of alcohol. For those that are non drinkers and last year became connoisseurs of the dizzy bat, we have expanded the list of options to include the ingestion of any combination of the following on each lap - eggnog, sliders or the feared dizzy bat. Stay tuned for more details.

Gesundheit - Vermont 50 Is History

2010-09-15T12:11:00.013-04:00

In Ancient Greece, sneezes were believed to be prophetic signs from the gods. In 410 BC, for instance, the Athenian general Xenophon gave a dramatic oration exhorting his fellow soldiers to follow him to liberty or to death against the Persians. He spoke for an hour motivating his army and assuring them of a safe return to Athens until a soldier underscored his conclusion with a sneeze. Thinking that this sneeze was a favorable sign from the gods, the soldiers bowed before Xenophon and followed his command. Another divine moment of sneezing for the Greeks occurs in the story of Odysseus. When Odysseus returns home disguised as a beggar and talks with his waiting wife Penelope, she says to Odysseus, not knowing to whom she speaks, that "[her husband] will return safely to challenge her suitors"". At that moment, their son sneezes loudly and Penelope laughs with joy, reassured that it is a sign from the gods.
In Europe, principally around the early Middle Ages, it was believed that one's life was in fact tied to one's breath - a belief reflected in the word "expire" (originally meaning "to exhale") gaining the additional meaning of "to come to an end" or "to die". This connection, coupled with the significant amount of breath expelled from the body during a sneeze, had likely led people to believe that sneezing could easily be fatal. This theory, if proven conclusively, could in turn explain the reasoning behind the traditional "God bless you" response to a sneeze, the origins of which are currently unclear. Sir Raymond Henry Payne Crawfurd, for instance, the late registrar of the Royal College of Physicians, in his 1909 book "The Last Days of Charles II", states that, when the controversial monarch was on his deathbed, his medical attendants administered a concoction of cowslips and extract of ammonia to promote sneezing. However, it is not known if this promotion of sneezing was done to hasten his death (as coup de grace), or as an ultimate attempt at treatment.
In certain parts of Eastern Asia, particularly in Chinese culture (and believe me we here at the New East Coast Syndicate are big fans of Chinese culture), Japanese culture and Vietnamese culture, a sneeze without an obvious cause was generally perceived as a sign that someone was talking about the sneezer at that very moment. This can be seen in the Book of Songs (a collection of Chinese poems) in ancient China as early as 1000 BC, and this belief is still depicted in present-day manga and anime. In China, Vietnam and Japan, for instance, there is a superstition that if talking behind someone's back causes the person being talked about to sneeze; as such, the sneezer can tell if something good is being said (one sneeze), something bad is being said (two sneezes in a row), even if someone is in love with them (three sneezes in a row) or if this is a sign that they are about to catch a cold (multiple sneezes).
All of you NECS loyalists might ask what does all of this have to do with the Vermont 50? Well, the healing of the BBQ ribs was coming along pretty well and having completed some excitingly mind numbing rides on the trainer, my fitness, while not ideal for the race, was still pretty good and I was looking forward to the Long Trail Brewey and 50 miles of VT single track. Having secured a registration slot that was as valuable as the golden ticket in a Wonka Bar, my spirits and hopes were up for making the race. Then came an event feared by anyone that has suffered this condition - the great big sneeze. When it was over I felt like my ribs had been blown through my side and I knew it was game, set and match. Much like Roberto Duran I bowed my head and muttered "No Mas". Time to sit back and suck down countless rounds of fine IPA.

BBQ Ribs

2010-09-08T13:53:00.010-04:00

Once again I find myself in a narcotic induced haze recalling the better times of last weekend and where/why/how it all went so wrong.
Weeks earlier MacGyver had put out the word that Labor Day Friday would be a night ride and the response seemed to be positive. Despite fears of retribution from the Mayor, (you can equate this next move to a Hells Angel deciding to ride with the Mongols or a Crip hanging with a Blood), I set out for our cross town rival, Bicycle Depot to see what was in the cards. Since this would be a bandit ride the first order of business was to solve the mystery of the howling brake rotor. A few minutes on the stand, some quick adjustments and a new set of pads and I was ready to rock the trails.
The nights objective was a climb over both sides of the ridge riding the carriage roads and hiking trails of Mohonk. The riding was fast and right as we dropped into the technical sections it was getting late enough to hit the lights. Up to this point everything was going smoothly and then the planks showed up. Never having been to the North Shore, my skills at riding the planks are right up there with Lindsay Lohan's ability to drive sober - non existent. Sure enough there were a couple of endos and a knee into the shifter before blood was finally drawn. With blood running down my leg and a cleat that wasn't releasing, the next few approaches to bridges and planks was on the timid side.
On the climb up the backside of the ridge in the dark I met my maker. A misstep on an hike-a-bike section and I was down on my ass but not before my ribcage broke my fall on the edge of a pointed boulder. Feeling like I had just taken a round house kick to the side I gazed at the passing stars as I tried to get my wits together and stand up. The final insult was when that loose cleat turned out to be far more terminal and the carbon sole cried uncle from the massive power generated from my quads (Sparticus look out)as it was torn from the bottom of the shoe.
Feeling like a one legged man at an ass kicking contest I cautiously made my way to the end of the trails and back to the shop before slugging down a couple of IPAs and heading for home to some Chinese food and Oxycontin. Now to rest up and see if I can heal in time for the Vermont 50.

What Makes America Great

2010-08-25T07:44:00.005-04:00

There are always a few guarantees you can count on when attending a rodeo.
Steers will be wrestled. Clowns will be gored. And your olfactory senses will be treated to an absolutely delightful bouquet of frontier fragrance.
Naturally, it was only a matter of time before someone bottled it.
Introducing Let’er Buck Cologne, a new fragrence that finally lets you embrace the scent of a rodeo cowboy, available now.
Think of it as your own personal Eau de Eastwood. It's inspired by Oregon's Pendleton Round-Up, the oldest and most prestigious four-day rodeo in the West. (Trust us: you would not want to smell like a five-day rodeo.) So inside the bottle, you'll find all the glorious fragrances from your last summer camping trip. The wild lavender. The musky foliage. The slowly burning soft-amber wood fire. A tantalizing hint of cold PBR (This alone is reason enough to buy up all the stock you can find).
You'll want to dab this on next time you plan on doing some moseying, even if it's just to happy hour. Or if you want to test it out in a real-life rodeo situation, you can hit up the Round-Up’s centennial anniversary next month.
What is next - Chuck Norris Black Belt cologne with a fine sent of sweaty dojo mats or Seagal Splash On with a hint of snapped wrist bone marrow?

2nd Annual "Stewart Brings Out Her Dead"/ NECS Non Race #2

2010-08-15T14:17:00.008-04:00

A very elite group (read that to be drunk old men) met at the new Dark Horse HQ for the second annual "Stewart Brings Out Her Dead" non race (The Mayor & C-Dubs being old, Mikesquatch acts like an old man and the Raveinator is our "bald headed step child" that keeps us out of trouble). This year we skipped collecting trash and empty beer cans from the woods and instead set out to explore the overgrown trails of yesteryear. Right out of the chutes it was clear that Mikesquatch had an axe to grind (perhaps literally) and with a 32x17 he was putting the hurt on all of us.
Tracing parts of the Dark Horse 40 course in reverse and connecting them with trails of the past we rode on in pursuit of Mike and stumbled upon the Raveinator's personal in the woods training center where he showed us the secrets of getting young male riders to train with him.Moar riding and finally, with the Mayor slumped over the bars trying to catch his breath, it was declared beer time. Suddenly Mikesquatch was off the back and the Mayor was blazing a trail of glory to the kegerator. After a couple of rounds we caught this fine clip.

Alternative Riding - Diablo

2010-08-10T13:27:00.004-04:00

Coming off successful endeavors at the Wilderness 101 and Dark Horse 40, C-Dubs and Top Chef declared this past weekend as a "No Moar Training Weekend". Riding for Satruday was limited to bikes that tip the scales at 40 lbs, have 170mm of travel and real gnarly tires, preferably 2.5s.
Starting the day with a pot of primo Costa Rican coffee, a visit to Mt. Kohler and a big bowl of Chinese congee we loaded the truck and headed south to the highlands of New Jersey to Diablo Freeride and Water Park. Rumors of Snooki, The Situation and the rest of the Jersey Shore crew had us south well above the speed limit. All was for naught as the recent arrest of Snooki meant the everyone had to keep low key until the start of the new series.
Arriving at the park I was excited to bomb the mountain on the Norco with it's new Marzocchi triple crown fork and being fresh out of the box there had been no set up done. After consulting tech guru, Top Chef, I pumped in his recommneded 90 lbs. Well the first run was an easy beginner one and we both got the downhill mojo going again, enough so that the second run we upped it to one of the expert runs. Half way down I was suffering with the rock gardens, taking a pounding and hearing a lot of noises from the bike. Stopping to check it out Top Chef noted that the travel was under 80mm and some of the 90lbs of air should be let out. Well having survived a downhill run on basically a rigid 40lb bike was an event in itself and after letting all of the air out I finally had the full 170mm of travel and it was time to go and have some fun like this -

After a couple more runs like that we headed to the outdoor bar at the base of the lift and had margaritas Team Seagal style

Then it was time to load the bikes and head out for some chinese food and beer for the trip home.

Widerness 101/Cinderella Goes To The Ball

2010-08-01T18:10:00.020-04:00

Well loyal fans of the NECS there has been a lot of sweat and miles put in for this year's running of the Wilderness 101 and for the 10th edition of this fine race there is a new recruit to enjoy the suffering. Yes our beloved and self named "Fat Chick with Hot Girlfriends" is making the journey to find his inner self on the trails of Bald Eagle State Park (and not in the form of puke). For those that don't know the story of FC it is rather compelling. To break up the monotony of riding solo or in pairs, Top Chef came up with the idea of the Saturday group road ride (which our beloved Ewok of Moab quickly dismissed as a millionaires riding club and hence the name MRC). Well at the first ride FC showed sporting some serious (we believe they were 52mm) aero carbon rims on a fully pimped ride. Guppying off the back on the first big climb FC crested the summit and announced to the troops "I feel like the fat chick at the bar with the hot girlfriends" and thus was born the name. Well FC went on the mileage diet this summer and suffered through numerous ascents and hot humid training sessions to get his dirty century cherry popped.
Arriving in Coburn we were graced with some of the best weather of the summer, cool temps, low humidity and a course that was dusty and dry, assuring all mortals in the middle of the pack the famous brown snot shot from the nose. Establishing a forward position by the trees and finish line, Mrs C-Dubs and I erected the tarp village made famous by the homeless and working classes of third world countries and soon were getting suited up for a bit of preriding.Thundering into the park in his diesel super pickup, FC hopped out and was ready to go and within minutes we were up the first climb of the course and taking in the scenery. With the recent workdays extending to well over 12 hours, while I was physically in peak for the race mentally it was a different story and expectations were low. Mrs C-Dubs was looking to double the distance from last year and get the first 40 in and FC was aiming to finish before the vampires came out.
Race day dawned even cooler and excitement was in the air resulting in these incredibly long lines for the port-a-johnsand was followed by the prerace warning about the first descent (there are bad crashes every year and this one was no exception). As we rolled out of Coburn Park for a single lap of madness I once again took my time a waved to the locals.Always a slow starter I get great amusement each year watching riders hammer the first 20 - 40 miles, looking for pacelines on the flats and thinking "I have this one dialed in". Once the climbing starts at 45 miles these warriors usually drop off the back and tend to roll over the line totally shattered with a 1000 yard stare sometime after the 12 hours mark.As the race progressed I was hitting all of the aid stations in my fastest time ever and not really feeling like the pace was being pushed. By aide station 4, Mrs C-Dubs had caught the shuttle and had my bottles ready, I was feeling great and limiting time at the stops to a few minutes before getting back on the bike. On the last climb Iwas reaching my limits and did get passed by one other master who was being paced up the hill by a waiting CX rider! Across the finish line in 9:32 for a pr and it was right to the campsite for a chinese egg roll, beer and a dip in the river. The Mrs. revealed that FC was moving right along and was in good spirits at aide station 4. A bit later, wandering back from the Freeze Thaw hospitality area, it was a great set up with tables, chairs, kegs and music, I witnessed a smiling FC rolling over the line in a Terry Ti Butterfly Saddle crushing time of 11:30. FC was so fresh looking I thought he might have been contemplating another lap of the course!
The evening was spent eating, eating, drinking and eating (final tally for the night - 2 cheeseburgers, plate of vegetables, 2 bags of gummi colas, bag of mint milanos, package of pecan sandies, half a box of Entemann's cinnamon buns plus other assorted foods that I can't remember. Mrs C-Dubs was excited about making the first 40 she was pounding down the wine until near the midnight hour but sadly FC opted for the hotel 30 minutes away and missed the night of partying.

C-Dubs, showing clear thinking even after 101 miles, reaches for the pint glass as he crosses the lineCinderella makes it to the ball

Gunks Century Century/HQ Grand Opening

2010-07-19T17:57:00.018-04:00

Well connoisseurs of the sadomasochism, once again the New East Coast Syndicate was on the pain train in a big way. Leading up to the Wilderness 101 coach Marci de Sade had issued orders for yet another century ride and this time the temps (with heat index) were well above the century mark.
Looking to maximize pain and discomfort the first 40 miles would feature 3 climbs up the east face of the Shawangunks starting with the 2 mile wall to Monhonk Mountain House and then two laps up Clove Rd/MInnewaska State Park. Just to up the difficultly level a bit more the first place to resupply on fluids would be at 51 miles meaning I would be pack muling 5 large bottles up the first climb. At the refill stop it was 3 bottles over the head, a refill of all 5 and a bag of ice down the back of the jersey to help cool off. After cresting Sampsonville it was a swooping downhill into Krumville then up the back side of Mohonk. Crossing back over the ridge I felt like I too was at the prison camp by the river Kwai as the temps on the road were well into triple digits.On the final stretch to the house the turkey thermometer finally popped and I was cooked. A quick text to Mrs. C-Dubs and I was assured there would be an ice cold bath upon my arrival. Panting as I dropped the bike at the front door it
Towelieing off from the dip it was off to the new Dark Horse HQ for the big move. Everyone, well almost everyone, was there to load up the old shop and unload at the new one.

Rodin Mike Davidson busy contemplating all the fun he missed

Half the crew was at the old shop loading the Rossi Barn truck with bikes and swag while the smarter half had Mrs C-Dubs guarding the cooler until the final load showed up. With the cooler out of beer Officer C-Dubs was called in to keep the troops from rioting until the kegerator pulled in, escorted by the Newburgh Hillbillies with a load of pizza and Dale's Pale Ale.

NECS Non Race #2 - Peekamoose 100

2010-07-05T05:09:00.012-04:00

We here at the New East Coast Syndicate have been as busy as our fellow warriors of the St. Louis tribe. Deployment orders were issued for the second non race of the season and participation was up 400% over last year with only the bravest 4 stepping up to the line for the Peekamoose 100 (the balance of the troops were getting in touch with their feminine side at Stewart with a lesson in nature from every one's favorite nature boy - The Mayor).
With the hottest day of the summer forecast and temps pushing close to the century mark we gave the Team Seagal salute, saddled up and headed off for our date with destiny.This year, just to add to the pain, the course was rerouted to include the Sampsonville Road around mile 75. A nice, fully exposed to the sun, set of steep pitches guaranteed to make grown men cry. Opening with a tour through Top Chef's old hood soon enough we were onto the 44/55 pass for the first of day's four climbs. Not long after the start of the climb Aaron "Obamador" Anaya showed the legs that would win the Arrogant Bastard beer/KOM classification for the day, leading over the summit of every climb except Peekamoose and making the rest of us feel his pain.By the time we hit Roundout Reservoir the gu had kicked in and the shouts of "fire in the hole" were coming from Top Chef. The resulting clouds had caught Fat Chick and he was off the back struggling for a breath of fresh air.
FC During Happier Times On The Ride

The Troops Pounding Out The Miles

Coming off Peekamoose Top Chef, Obamador and C-Dubs hung it out and topped out close to 50 mph before settling into a high speed pace line to the bottom. Shortly after we were rolling into one of the many espresso stations Top Chef has incorporated into our rides. With the heat rising Fat Chick restocked and rolled out toward the Sampsonville climb while the rest of us indulged in food, caffeine and a refill of the bottles. We finally caught FC halfway up the climb at which point everyone was getting fully cooked from the sun and heat. Finishing with a descent into Kerhonkson we loaded up on the cold water and poured a couple of gallons over our heads before setting out for the climb back over 44/55. The Final Summit Guppy

Driven on by the realization that ice cold beer was only one 5 mile climb away, one by one we crested the summit and bombed the final descent back to HQ where we arrived at 4:20. There Mrs. C-Dubs had a crew on hand, a cooler of beer and tons of food to consume. With a good buzz on and a full belly we settled on the couch to catch up on the crashfest called the Tour.

Mrs C-Dubs Rocks The Podium

2010-06-13T19:08:00.005-04:00

After weeks of secret training sessions at the local dojo, Mrs. C-Dubs came out with the nunchucks swinging in the women's division at the Flat As A Pancake Triathlon. Tapping the mystic training techniques bestowed upon her other half by Marci de Sade, the Mrs. aimed at using the stealth approach of starting slowly and building momentum throughout the race. Coming out of the swim in 5th place after being pulled off course by the tides, Mrs C-Dubs put the hammer down on the bike. Riding an IF Planet Cross against the competition, all on tri bikes, she smoked the course winning the bike portion by 4 seconds before heading out on what she perceived as her weakest leg - the run. Coming into the finishing stretch some bitch had the nerve to put a sprint on an nip her at the tape and screw up my finish line shot. Only problem was she was a couple of age groups younger and sucking wind for a youngster. The first words out of Mrs. C-Duds mouth were not how did I do but "if that bitch is in my age group I'm going to punch her lights out". Turns out the woman's smile was intact, Beth rocked the run and took out another 2:25 off the eventual winner, losing on on the top step by only 47 seconds after 1:43:00 of racing!

4 Cubed

2010-06-06T19:26:00.004-04:00

While Mike "The Calf" Montalbano was out in the land of corn and apple pie kicking every one's ass in the Mohican 100 the lower ranking members of the NECS (the party crew) were making their own preparations for the coming ultra endurance races.
Fat Chick w/ Hot Girlfriends was putting in the final torture sessions for the Stoopid 50 and C-Dubs was just starting his prep for an 8th assault on the Wilderness 101. There was also a handful of riders getting their Dark Horse 40 training kicked off with a race distance training ride.
On the menu for the day was another pain session on the Alp d' Minnewaska with an extra helping - the ascent from Duck Pond to Mohonk Mountain House - resulting in 3 extended climbs and a total of almost 4200' of climbing in 40.2 miles and 4 hours of riding. This ride offers no opportunity to warm up starting with a 2 mile/1400' death march that features 2 short pitches that exceed 20 degrees.
Right out of the shoots it was Aaron (Contador)Anaya leading the charge up the Alp doing out a lot of hurt to those in his wake. Top Chef was brave enough to come with the 1x9 and paid the price only on the two steep pitches where cries of "give me a granny gear" were heard echoing through the woods. Summiting a Castle Rock there was a brief pause (this was a training ride after all) before the pack headed down the backside of the mountain to the waterfall with C-Dubs managing to run over a rattler sunbathing on the trail (moar snakes!!!). There we ran into Mrs C-Dubs and Mrs. Top Chef on their ascent of the waterfall climb. Despite groans of "this isn't a race" it was back to hammering a few miles on a sweet sub 4% grade before the plunge down to the duck pond.
A quick round of gels and water and the next climb to Mohonk Mountain house was underway. With no pitches exceeding 10% this one was a breeze and over before anyone had time to suffer. This followed with another high speed descent that had some kick ass esses turns that you could take at speed but miss an apex and it was off the 60' drop into the woods. On the grind back to the waterfall Top Chef found that his front rotor was rubbing so bad the wheel barely made a couple of turns before stopping - bonus training!
With some half assed adjustments made the final climb up past the waterfall held a reward for those that wanted it - ice cream and iced coffee (you could see the fire in the eyes of Top Chef, having missed the morning round of java) - before the final screaming descent off the Alp. Near the bottom the carriage road is like an expressway and speeds exceeded 42 mph. Having good brakes was a must since the downhill ends abruptly at a metal gate.

Canal Cruising or How To Lose You Hat & Not Notice For A Few Hours

2010-05-18T07:46:00.017-04:00

Having survived the previous day's TT and subsequent celebrations and parties the NECS set out on our third day for naval support duties. Rolling out of the Hotel Nes it was back onto the trusty steeds to return them to the safe keeping of the local bike shop. Of course with the last night having gone into the wee hours our first stop was De Dampkring for a quick pick me up.
Having yet again survived altered state cycling, we headed out on the next adventure - securing the safety of the canals from the deadly contagion - river pickles - by running an all day patrol boat.These generally appear on Sunday mornings when the drunken sots from the night before can't find a crapper and decide to hang it off one of the bridges to drop the kids off at the pool.In order to make the departure of the trusty U.S.S. Dampkring we had to take the short cut through the Red Light district middle morning. You can imagine the shock to our system when we encountered not the Eastern European beauties of the night before but the grave yard shift from the local steel mill. All I could say was "either I was so drunk last night that the ugly girls looked hot or these girls worked so hard last night they aged a lifetime". Either way I quickly came to the conclusion if I was Oedipus I was in heaven, but being a regular guy, I was scared. Certainly all your motherly desires could be satisfied for 20 Euros.We all came to one conclusion, as soon as we were on board it was off to the closest bar, which happened to be the crooked house, a fine establishment that was serving up our favorites Palms and Le Chouffe.With a real solid morning buzz working, it was only 11 am Amsterdam time, we decided it was time to shovel some of the fine cuisine of the town down our hungry pie holes so it was off to Wilhelmia-Dok for lunch. To get there we had to navigate the mighty Ij river, the busiest waterway in Amsterdam, complete with cruise ships and freighters that had no ability to stop for a boat load of drunks. Armed with De Dampkring lollipops and a travel mug of Palms, like the Minnow in Gilligan's Island, we set out for a 3 hour tour. By the time it was over our stomachs were full of moar beer and fine cuisine, now all we needed was the afternoon espresso and the day would be complete. Sadly on the way to the coffee shop the prop became fouled (possible river pickle damage) and we had to head back to base for a replacement craft. It was about this time that Braveheart realized he and another one of his hats had parted company. Faced with the prospect of either a multi hour return to Wilhelmia - Dok or the immediate gratification of the coffee shop up the canal it had all the potential to be a tough decision - NOT. It was a no brainer and some lucky Dutchman is now sporting a Yoshimura Giants hat.
Next up we needed to do something about the dehydration we were suffering from so Mathias quickly tied up to the canal wall and was off for a case of Heineken's to cover the afternoon cruise. You can imagine our surprise when right above us on the street was the local party bench for the city drunks, and it was a mangy crew that had occupied the slats that day. Of course in the interest of keeping the city clean and safe the police showed up moments later and immediately harassed the 2 local business men (of middle eastern persuasion) but left the drunks alone. I guess the rational is the drunks are too drunk to cause a problem but a couple of carpet traders handing briefcases back and forth could be trouble.
With the sun setting, our stomachs empty and our heads spinning it was time for dinner and preparation for the balance of the night. Finishing up yet another tasty meal at Vao, we headed out for the "get ready" espressos and a final night of action. First stop after was a local bar where we stumbled into a Sunday night ecstasy party complete with a DJ that looked like a cross between Crocodile Dundee and the helio pilot from The Road Warrior and a host that looked like Gary Glitter.Of course there was the standard fare of Dutch women in black skirts, black tights, boots but this time they were dancing on the bar stools and tables while the strobe lights raged. All of the sudden Braveheart was gone and then in a blink of an eye he was back and ready to rage.

For a grand finale Mathias escorted to one of his favorite hangouts, there was no name, only a plain door with a scary looking bouncer. Once inside it was strip club time and we all pushed Braveheart up to the stage to "take one for the boys" and take one he did, getting the most incredible labia dance any of us have ever seen. Well his dance was getting the other patrons all revved up and suddenly we noticed that everyone had close cut hair, 5 day shadow, black tshirts or tracksuits! My god we were in the land of the Albania tracksuit mafia.With final shake of her assets we were out the door before the guns could come out and on our way to the final nightcap. Sitting back sipping an espresso Braveheart suddenly comments "why do I smell like a cheap hooker" which put everyone on the floor laughing. It truly was game, set match, time to go home while we were alive.

Giromania Stage 1 - NECS Dominates The TT

2010-05-11T10:54:00.031-04:00

With a night of rest under our belts it was time to expand our horizons beyond coffee, chocolate and beer and get ready for the real reason we were here - Giromanina and the stage 1 time trial.Over a morning double espresso at De Dampkring, the Mayor of Amsterdam sprung another surprise on us. We were meeting up with Mathias, long time resident of the city and our guide to enlightenment for the weekend.So to really get into the spirit of Amsterdam and the Giro we decided there was no better way to take it all in then on a bike, so it was off to the local shop to rent the finest the city had to offer. Now one has to understand that in Amsterdam there are only a couple of different brands of bikes and every one offers two basic models - men's and women's - and in one basic color - black. All of the bikes come with the same component groups and set ups, which makes it a true game locating your bike when you come out of the bars with a number of pints under your belt.Mounted up on our trusty steeds it was off to satisfy the Mayor's lust for pancakes, not to mention our morning's hunger pains. Leading us down the back streets, Mathias deposited us right at the door step of a wonderful pancake house that served up delicacies such as pancakes with banana, bacon and chili peppers - yes it sounds rather strange but it was a killer meal.Suddenly in through the door came Giorgio, a local the Mayor had struck up a friendship with at the toy store the day before. While the two caught up on the past 24 hours Top Chef and I were going through Giro Time Out to plan the day's events. Suddenly there was a crash and chairs were all over the place. Seems the morning coffee had left the Mayor (and the rest of us) feeling no pain and during the course of snapping a few pics of Giorgio he had lost orientation and took a small tumble - as you can imagine the rest of us doubled over in laughter, paid the bill and headed out on the bikes.
Cruising the streets we stopped by the fixed gear bike museum (it was still under construction but had lots of awesome race and one off customs in the windows) and passed by the bike film festival, noting that we had to come back on Sunday for this one (oddly it was a one day showing - makes no sense since the Giro was in town for 3 days). Riding around we took note not only of the hot chicks in boots on bikes but the various riding styles of the locals, as you can see there is little concern about head injuries and child safety, and the fact that the guys riding Pointers seemed to be the ones that scored with the women.The shock of the day was Top Chef passing on the opportunity to stop in a Starbucks declaring that he had taken a liking to the offerings at the local coffee shops. With this Mathias immediately changed course and suddenly there we were at the Rookery (Mathias's favorite) settling in for a couple of rounds of double espressos. Back out on the streets the city was beginning to get a bit more into the Giro and we came upon a local race that was lapping the canals. Unfortunately no one crashed into the canal.After a morning of comedy it was time to head over to the starting area for the Stage 1 time trial. The biggest surprise to all of us was the lack of interest from the locals. There were no problems getting up close to the team buses and getting to drool over these exotic machines.Following the TT course on bikes was taking it's toll so we stopped off at one of the outdoor bars to hydrate with a few rounds of beers and recon the maps for the next vantage point on the course. While sitting there we were lucky enough to meet up with Evil Knievel's Dutch cousin who pointed us to the nearest coffee shop for additional inspiration and caffeine power.Sitting back enjoying the coffee we perused the Giro Time Out and discovered there was a zany bike race over the time trail course right after the last racer was out on course. Revved up on double espressos and the special Philosopher Stone tea we headed out in the rain to hunt down the elusive zany bike race registration area. Seems no one working the Giro had any idea what we were talking about but perseverance paid off and suddenly we found ourselves at registration. Having secured our numbers (the Mayor managed to draw numero uno) we immediately headed to the nearest bar for moar Belgian beers. Fortified with the courage a couple of rounds of Palms will provide we donned our jerseys and headed out to the starting area only to discover that just like some pros we were late to the start. Well in the state we were in getting there late was the least of our problems, keeping the bikes upright was the bigger concern, after all these highly tuned Dutch TT bikes are not easy to ride.Just like with the pros as we raced through the barriers the fans were pounding on the sides, yelling and screaming and even offering up some of the home brew (Heineken) to help us get to finish. Wanting to avoid any problems with doping controls at the finish we grabbed anything offered and practiced the standard lines for the officials like "I never knowingly took performance enhancing drugs".
Thoroughly spent from the monumental effort required to secure the top four places in the race we headed out for a late afternoon espresso before cruising the city and doing some sightseeing and bar hopping by bike. Before we realized it midnight was fast approaching and dinner was yet to be consumed. But fear not friends, Mathias steered us to a fine establishment for yet another round of beers before heading across the street to dinner, lots of wine and then back across the street for another round of beers.
We had officially reached the point of mental lubrication where we were ready to experience the Red Light District and the famous Wall. The most important thing to understand is the tolerance of the Dutch, which is why all of the shenanigans take place in the city and while they are tolerant they also make sure to protect the children. Note in the shot below, which is the entrance to the Wall, parents are advised to hold their child's hand while taking them through the Red Light district.Now the Wall is like nothing else you will ever experience in your life. As you can see from the shot above it is narrow and a the peak it is a flowing sea of deviant humanity going both directions and window shopping. The prostitutes are just hanging out like mannequins in a store window only they are not selling the clothes they are wearing.Interesting, disturbing and definitely requires numerous beers as soon as you escape. By now the clocks we well into the start of a new day and the NECS was still out on the prowl looking for the next great experience or coffee shop and as you can see from the movie our riding confidence is at an all time high.
Finally sometime after 3 am we decided the adventure for the day had run it's course and it was back to Hotel Nes for a quick mint tea and sack time before the next day's adventure on the canals.