Showing posts with label Rural Nebraska. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rural Nebraska. Show all posts

Friday, May 24, 2024

Maybe The Horses Are Onto Something

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Lazy is defined as someone lacking energy, showing a lack of effort or care... as I sit here writing this I am sitting in Colorado, sipping my morning coffee with a great view of Byers Peak without a care in the world. If that's lazy then sign me up!

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Last weekend I spent on the saddle of my Stormchaser, surrounded by friends, pedaling 62 miles of gravel in a headwind. While the effort was definitely more substantial than it is right now, the amount of fucks given were no more or no less present then they are right now about most things in life outside of the ride. Instead I was just being present in that moment, sharing it with those that wanted to share their time with me. Is that Lazy also, if so sign me up, twice!

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The Lazy Horse Gravel Grind out of Ohiowa, Nebraska is by far my favorite event of the gravel season. The sense of community, generosity and goodwill overflow the river of human decency during the 6 or so hours we spend winding our way through small, rural Nebraska towns and villages with odd names. Every single one of those towns, Alexandria, Bruning, Belvidere and Gilead are not only happy to see us but they might enjoy the event more than those who ride it do. The smiles on the faces of the church ladies who baked pies, the old men with stories to tell about "the good ole days of (insert town name here)" to anyone willing to listen, the overall feeling of being welcomed as part of their community is something you don't get with most gravel events. Lazy ain't so bad sometimes, hell if lazy had a physical embodiment it might be a small village on some dusty gravel road in the middle of Nebraska farm land. Provided you're not there during planting or harvest because ain't nobody got time for lazy then. 

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Jackie, Justin, Julie and Jim (apparently only people with a J first name can be a part of this team) put on a fabulous event every year with courses that are equal parts fun and challenging but just enough challenge that they won't make you contemplate why you're out there doing it. In the ever increasing need by events to want to draw huge crowds, covet "big gravel names", find every hill and put on a spectacle of a show it's nice to see a contradictory event still flourish. Let's be honest with ourselves, most of us are closer to being a pro couch potato than we ever will be a pro cyclist... so why do we aspire to be that which we aren't instead of finding those events that embrace and celebrate what we are in the cycling world?

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I'm not saying to forsake those big events, I myself have and still do participate in them, all I'm saying is give the little guys a look also, you might be surprised how much fun they really are. Jackie and I have started a trend to try to find and ride in the smaller, lesser known events that are within a few hours drive of where we live in an attempt to continue to embrace the true ethos of what gravel was all about when it trickled onto the scene, when very few people batted an eye at the small gathering of cyclists that for some reason rode the dirt instead of the nice, smooth pavement. I speak like I'm 100 years old and have been riding gravel for decades but truth be told I got into gravel not even 10 year ago in 2015. Even in that microcosm of time things have changed dramatically in the world of gravel. The other day I read a post on the social medias that went a little something like this "Gravel is dead, it's now just road racing on gravel roads." and well, maybe they aren't wrong.

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Maybe I'm just the old curmudgeon yelling at the clouds in the sky and kids walking on my lawn, that is a distinct possibility but the joy that the small gravel events bring to my inner being is well worth the label. Find small gravel again, embrace events where event directors can still address the starting line by yelling, find rides that give more than they take. It's way easier to rope a lazy horse than it is a race horse.  




Check out the video from the event on the YouTube.

 

Sunday, September 22, 2019

The Well Went Dry and The Cow Did Too

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Saturday was the Homestead 100 out of Beatrice Nebraska, Beatrice is the home of the Homestead Monument of American so I suppose it's only natural to have a Homestead ride. We've done this ride a few times now, twice on "gravel" and at least once on the road route.

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I was told this was going to be a casually paced ride, I was told nobody was worried about going fast and finishing quickly... so Pugsley got the call up for the ride. I always thought that Lady Liberty was a lot bigger than this, or at least she appears so in pictures.

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The roll out from town was fairly mild but once we hit the limestone trail things ticked up markedly but I should have know that casual pace rarely ever is.

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Despite the brisk headwind heading south, we scooted along fairly quickly and rode into the first SAG stop at mile 10 seemingly minutes after heading out. Skies were dark and threatening and I was sure we were going to end up getting soaked at any minute.

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Just outside of Barneston was the second SAG, while we didn't stop there on the way out we would visit Barneston on the way back. I am always amazed and a little jealous when I ride this trail, the facilities are amazing compared to what is around Lincoln on this same trail. This gazebo and bathroom, yep and actual bathroom that doesn't look like a tree or a bush, sits just south of Barneston; a town of 111 people.

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A short 3 miles from Barneston is the Kansas/Nebraska border or the Nebraska/Kansas border, whichever you prefer. Always a good spot for a dual state beer stop and some of us got way more excited about the border than others.

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The original plan was to turn around at about mile 32 which would put us just shy of Marysville but get us a metric century. When we got there however some of the group decided to push on without us, had I known that I would have been more than content with just hitting the border and heading back. Oh well, that tailwind was nice on the way back and we met Todd and Isabell near Barnston on the way back and talked them into a pub stop.

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Grand Avenue in Barnston is probably one of the last remaining businesses in town and it's a throw back to days gone by. Unlike the bar in Memphis I bought two bags of chips, a coke and a Mike's for $4.50 which is only 50 cents more than one drink in Memphis. Now that's how small town drinking is done. Being just a block of the trail you'd think that they bar would have neon signs on the trail directing cyclists to stop in and spend some money but that's not the case at all. While they will take your money, the lady who runs the place seemed a little less than excited about "herds of cyclists" showing up unannounced but that could just be some of that small town charm you hear so much about. In all fairness she has always seemed friendly and social when we've been there and I suppose 15 sweaty cyclists just showing up could put a bit of a rush into an otherwise dull day.

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A quick 20 mile spin later and we were back in Beatrice where the Octoberfest was in full swing, I opted not to partake but head home instead. We never did see a single drop of rain so that was good, the head wind was a bit harsh but that is Nebraska for you and as usual I think the winds shifted a little bit so that we were fighting it in both directions... not that it seemed to effect the pace. 14.2 on a 50 lbs fat bike is plenty quick for me but it was a good ride with friends and a great day on the bike.