First Impressions: Avid Elixir-CR Brakes

After experiencing persistent problems with sticky pistons and the levers not returning properly on my Magura Marta SL brakes, I decided to give the new Avid Elixir-CR brakes a shot. These brakes came highly recommended by Steve at the local shop.

The first thing I noticed about the Elixir brakes is the smooth lever action, especially when compared to my old Magura brakes. There is an even and consistent feel through out the lever travel, which was lacking in the Magura stoppers. Another noticeable difference is the tool-free adjustment feature of the Elixir brakes. Reach adjustment is controlled by a black dial at the base of the lever and pad contact is controlled via a red barrel adjuster where the line runs into the lever. A key selling point here is the independent nature of each adjustment feature. Adjusting lever reach, for example, will not affect how the pads feel in contacting the rotor, so you can literally tailor the feel of your brakes to the trail conditions. Speaking of brake pads, the most noticeable difference between the Elixir-CR brakes and my old brakes is the absence of brake squeal. The Elixir-CR pads and 185 rotors are simply dead silent. There was none of the usual metallic grinding sound or the high-pitched squeal so common in mountain bike brakes.

What's in a Doodle?

The dictionary defines a doodle as any type of sketch or unfocused drawing made while a person's attention is otherwise occupied. These simple drawings can have concrete representational meaning or may just be abstract shapes.

If this is true, then doodles are essentially expressions of the subconscious mind and open to psychological interpretation. Such notables in the field of psychology as Freud and Jung held that doodling is an act where the individual is conscious, but the meaning of the drawing is unconscious. Alfred Adler believed doodling fulfilled our need for symmetry and order.

With this, I offer a page of my own doodles for interpretation and analysis.

Click the image for a larger view.

93-miles and a New Route

I went on a nice 93-mile ride today with a couple of teammates and pushed a rather brisk pace for the majority of the trip. I recall looking down at my computer at one point when we were rotating on a flat section and seeing 28 mph. We spent most of the time in the 21 to 22 mph range not counting sprints to various city limit signs along the way.


The area along 76 and from Ecru to Hurricane is all new to me. There are some nice rollers out there and one flat stretch east of Ecru.

Sunday Iron-Butt Rainout & Monday Road Ride

Sunday:
I didn’t make it to the Iron Butt 100 in Memphis on Sunday and judging from some of the photos I've seen not going was a smart move. I don’t mind a damp trail but shin deep mud is just not my thing.

Since the Iron Butt didn’t happen, I went to help with a local crit on the Ole Miss campus where I worked a section of road for the cat-5, cat-4, and open women’s races. I hung out at the finish line for the cat-1,2,3 race and enjoyed watching the action.

The cat-4 race reminded me just why I gave up road racing this year. I basically don’t miss all the nonsense that some people bring to these events. It can be a bit much. The cat-4 race, for example, was little more than a moving cloud of noise peppered with obscenities, arguing among teammates and adolescent testosterone. The amusing part was watching the largest cat-4 team in the race completely self-destruct by chasing down every break from their own teammates. Give me single-track!

Monday:
Today I decided to get in some long miles on the road bike and set out to do my 244 loop east of town.

About 10-miles into my ride I encountered this truck spraying goodness knows what on the side of the road. Keeping my distance, I waited for the wind to shift then gave it my best sprint to get around the rolling chemical spill.

While out on county road 202, I noticed a lot of these flowers on the side of the road and decided to snap a photo of them. I think they’re Black Eyed Susies, but I’m not sure. Let’s hope the chemical truck took a different route.

I snapped this photo on the return leg of my trip because it reminded me of a Cézanne painting.

When I got back to town, I stopped by the shop to shoot the bull and get some water. The guys were busy building up this Moots YBB 29er. I think there are five or six people in town with Moots bikes now, but I’m the only person with a Moots ZX.

Congratulations Debbie!

As posted on USA Cycling:

The largest race of the day, the 40-44 women, turned into a slugfest between two powerhouse riders. Mid-way through the 35-mile event Susannah Gordon (Parker, Colo/Colorado Bike Law) and Debbie Milne (Belden, Miss./Absolut Racing) laid claim on the medal stand. It was Milne however, who began training just a few years ago by pulling her kids in a trailer behind her bike, who was able to break away inside the final two laps and ride into the Stars-and-Stripes. Gordon sprinted to the silver nearly 10 seconds later.

State Games of Mississippi

The organizer combined all the cat-2 racers for a mass start given the extreme heat. I believe it reached 97 degrees with a heat index somewhere off the charts. At one point during the race, I could have sworn I smelt bacon cooking but it could have just as easily been the skin on the back of my neck baking in the sun. Suffice it to say, it was a scorcher! Having a combined start made good sense with such hot weather that bordered on dangerous. However, the only negative is a mass start makes knowing who is in what division virtually impossible. I adjusted to this by racing against anyone in front of me and trying not to get caught by anyone behind me. This approach made for a lot of unnecessary suffering on my part.

I take up a position in the middle of the second row and immediately started sizing up the field. I couldn’t help but notice the Incredible Hulk directly to my right. He had to be close to seven feet tall complete with muscles on top of muscles. I’m doing good to reach 150 pounds holding two bricks while wearing army boots. The Ironman tattoo on the Hulk’s ankle says I should take him seriously, but his size was surely going to be an issue on the climbs.

I gun it at the start and immediately go for the front trying to avoid any traffic issues once we reach the single-track roughly 100 yards away. Most everyone else seemed to have the same plan, so the start quickly turned into a stampede of epic proportions. After a 90-degree turn to the right, we come onto a gravel road leading to the trailhead some 75 yards ahead. Someone launches an insane attack off the front and opens a small gap on the group. This stirs up the pack and everyone gives chase and quickly squelches the attempted break. With this group explosion, everyone instantly begins to string out. I make the single-track somewhere in the upper middle of the group, not exactly ideal. The pace is extremely fast, almost too fast, and I know people are going to start imploding from the effort - if not the heat - very quickly. Not 200 yards into the trail riders start popping like balloons in a dart factory. I work my way around several slowing riders and a few more just roll off the course to recover. I never see The Incredible Hulk during the entire race, so I can only assume he went off to crush cars and uproot trees.

At the halfway point of the first lap, I’m somewhere in the top five riders and guess that I’m first or second in my category. My teammate is just ahead of me and we swap positions a couple of times before I finally move past him and open a serious gap on a hilly section of trail. I then find myself riding alone for the remainder of the first lap.

When I come around for the second lap, I see someone in a black & red “R2W” kit a short distance up the trail, and I set about trying to bridge up to his wheel. He grabs a fresh bottle of water at the 90-degree turn before the trailhead, and I’m slowly reeling him in like a fish on a line. The catch is made just as we enter the single-track where I settle in and let him make pace. I know he won’t try to drink out of his bottle as long as I’m on him, so I let him work in the heat while I wait for my chance. That chance comes on a series of small grunt climbs where I get around him and kick up the tempo another level. I soon have several seconds on him and quickly add more and more distance with every pedal stroke. About five minutes later, he starts eating into my lead and eventually gets within a bike length. We continue to battle with each other for most of the second lap until the climbs come into play a mile or so from the Start/Finish area. This is where I make my escape and go into my final lap solo.

When I enter the single-track for the third and final lap, I calculate that I likely have first or second place in my division sewn up. However, my main goal is to complete the last lap without a mechanical, serious crash, heart attack, or being caught by anyone closing in from behind. It’s this fear of being passed that drives me to keep the pace high while riding alone during a race. My nightmare scenario is losing a position just before the finish. I simply can’t imagine a worse feeling.

The racecourse is a good mix of alternating single-track and open gravel road. When I come to one of the gravel road sections, I get down in a time-trial position and step on the gas to ensure no one is closing in on me. It isn’t long before I start lapping the Cat-3 field, which isn’t as problematic as one might think. It only takes advanced warning, riding skills, and good manners. I’ve mentioned this in other posts, but I always say “thank you” when someone lets me around.

I eventually emerge from the woods onto a gravel road leading to the finish. All I have is one small hill and a gentile left turn before I reach the 50-yard flat stretch to the line. As soon as I make the gravel road, I quickly look over my shoulder and gun it for the hill like an escaped convict. Once on top of the hill, I look over my shoulder one more time and see nothing but empty road. I go for the line and ride across with my hands on my hips trying to catch my breath.

When the results are posted, I take Gold in my division and complete the day with the second fasted time of the 30-39/40-49 Cat-2 group.

The Numbers:
Distance: 17.61 miles
Race Time: 1:36:11 hours
Ave, Speed: 10.85 mph
Max Speed: 23.86 mph

Pondering the Iron Butt

I'm considering giving the Iron Butt 100 a whirl. I hear this thing is brutal, so it could be a good measuring stick for other endurance races in the future. The Black Bear Rampage and Fool's Gold 50 are two races I'd really like to do this year, but the Fool's Gold conflicts with the Stanky Creek CX & TT. That choice will likely come down to weather. There's still the Black Bear Rampage as well as the 6-hours of Herb and 12-hours of Stank. Ultimately, I really want to do something like the Firecracker 50 or even the Leadville 100 in Colorado.