Coughs, Codeine, and Not-So-Soft Landings *SSUSA 2019 - Ch. 1*

We left Minneapolis last Monday night at 7:00pm as the radio reported on snow falling in southern MN and throughout Iowa.  Although the morning started with me at the office Dr's clinic with a cough that had kept both of us awake for the last few nights, we still loaded up the van with a bag full of codeine, Mucinex, cough drops, tissues and a crap load of positive thoughts.  Add to that three bikes, a bin full of snacks, riding gear for all weather, and one bitching ass Champions Belt...  Texas here we come!

  

We drove through the night on a mission set on breakfast and ridin' dirt with Coach and Mary in Bentonville, AR by 8:00am Tuesday.  Jay did almost ALL of the driving with his amazing night driving superpowers as I faded in and out of a codeine-fueled slumber.   [Nothing beats opioid warning labels to scare you back into #SoberOctober after Homie Fest, just sayin']

After a couple stops in the dimly lit outer rims of roadside gas stations to both sleep and burn some time as we stayed ahead of schedule, we found ourselves bellied up in a booth at the Village Inn in Bentonville, AR.  Coffee, eggs, and a strawberry crepe later we were off to meet Coach and Mary at the Southern Trailhead of the Coler Trails in town.

The sky was grey and the cool air was full of moisture after multiple rainy days preceded our arrival.  I should have taken heed when I saw this as we entered the trails...


Within a minute, I lost my front wheel as I exited a slick wooden bridge smattered with wet leaves that broke loose as I leaned in for the upcoming turn, crashing full speed and with all of my weight into the unforgiving surface of the stoney ground all on my left kneed camp.  It instantly sucked all of the air from my chest and I struggled to get out of my pedals with my bike on top of me.  I writhed in pain on the muddy trail as I made every effort to slow my breathing while dry-heaving over the creek below.



After a few minutes (Garmin says it was 7 min), Jay helped me up and I walked along the trail in an attempt to 'limp it off'.  I finished out the next 7.5 miles jostling between pure admiration of the nature surrounding us to the searing pain in my left knee every time I stomped down on a climb or riding a goofy-footed ready position.  The rocky trail was slow and slippery, but the pace and pausing a few times along the ride were quite peaceful and pretty.

{turn on audio!}

... the hauntingly beautiful song that emitted from the bridge was captivating for so many of my senses.  My knee ached and the cold cut straight to my core, but the sounds flooded me with a flood of peace.

Enchanted, I reluctantly left the bridge as the rain started back up and we loaded up the muddy steeds to find a tasty, warm lunch in the lil town square where the original five n dime still stood.  In a mild food coma, we left the cozy Italian restaurant, Tavola Trattoria, said "see ya later" to our friends and headed south again, Dallas-bound, as I searched Hotwire for a steal of a deal on a 4-star hotel on a quiet Tuesday night.

We pulled into town and found the Velvet Taco, a counter-service taco joint with an upscale twist on the street taco.  After dinner, we retreated to an amazing deal on a suite at the Wyndham where we snuggled on the couch for Game 6 of the World Series as I iced my knee.  Thank heavens for the king size bed to keep me from bumping my knee into Jay during the night!

We were back on the road by 9:00 am to finish the sub 4 hour drive to our final destination of Smithville, TX just outside of Austin.  We stopped in Carls Corner for gas and coffee where I wandered around the store gathering dorky souvenirs and Jay awkwardly waited for the Dunkin Donuts gals making the breakfast sandwiches to figure out how to make each one... she asked the cashier for step my step ingredients for each one she made (even if she was making a repeat of the previous order), as she lazily grazed from the ingredient bins, popping them in her mouth as if she were just making breakfast at home.  :oP

Bewildered, we grabbed our coffee and his breakfast and returned to the road.  We saw a longhorn steer somewhere outside of Waco but nothing I'd seen yet has made me think "they're right, everything IS bigger in Texas".  But then again, the adventure is just beginning....

Limpin' in TX,
Kristy Kreme

It's about which direction you look...

Last week put me through the ringer and left me feeling lost as I tried to embrace the weekend.  Stress at work twisted my brain into knots and I took every action I could to ward off another weekend of migraines, nausea and fatigue.  Then a ghost from Kristy's past surfaced before our Friday night ride, bringing back harsh memories of days when I let people walk all over me.  I shook the whispers that bounced between my ears by tearing it up on my new Specialized Crux CX bike with Jay, Peterson, and Zack down by Fort Snelling before we headed to dinner that evening.

Back at home with doggo at my feet and merlot in my paw, Jay and I settled in on the couch and tuned into a podcast I found that two of our friends put on to help promote, hype, and corral all the single speed miscreants for this year's edition of SSUSA.  The guest interviewed was 2012 W's Champ Kerry W. who made it quickly apparent through the fast termination of any discussion of my current responsibility over the Champion's Belt that dark waters ran deep within her in relation to me.  It was funny at first, but the vehemence behind her sharp words soon got to me and I turned it off 1/2 way through.  The same dark wave washed over me... I was warmed by the kind things my friends would say about me early in the podcast, but shocked at the way each statement was so violently shut down.

The murky waters lingered come morning as I tried to prepare for our local CX race.  I know I beat her for the belt in 2013 and have seen her at a few events since, but I had no idea what created such depth of hatred to fester.  Jay tried to talk me out of my sullen mood and, when he left to grab breakfast, I knew I had to change the direction I was letting my mind go and look for the better path.  I plugged in my headphones and turned on my race playlist... first up "How You Like Me Now?" by The Heavy.  I put on mascara (cuz I have blonde eye lashes and never leave home without it), packed my bags, and readied myself to push that new bike to every limit I could find.

It's odd and something I am grateful for every time it happens... but sometimes the universe reaches out and turns your head in the right direction... that's if you're willing to look there.

We got to The Loppet Trailhead for the open pre-ride, kitted up in my pink camo Podiumwear skin suit, pink helmet, pink shoes, and hot f'in pink Crux ready to see what we had in store. Jay and I tore through three super fast and fun laps to check out the course and I was confident that today was going to be a good day.  I laid my bike against a wall to collect my thoughts and plan for the next hour and a half before my race, standing on the back patio of the chalet.

I noticed out of the corner of my eye a young boy in blue (maybe 5 years old) slowly walking towards me who slowed as he neared, making eye contact with an inquisitive look on his face.  I squatted down to his eye level and asked how he was doing.  "I'm going to cheer for you today!  I want you to win because that's my sister's favorite color!".  I'd never met the boy, the family didn't have anyone in the race; they only came to check it all out.  His younger sister approached in an Elsa dress, holding a pink cycling water bottle that matched mine.  I thanked him for his kindness and grabbed my bike in which he responded "Your bike is pink, too?! You ARE going to win!".  I thanked him again and returned to my pre-race preparations.

At race time, I rolled back up to the Chalet to see my new favorite family leaving and I stopped to tell them how much my day was truly brightened thanks to meeting them.  The young boy came back to me and held out his small pinky.. "I pinky swear you are going to win today".  I twisted my pinky with his and said "I'm definitely winning today, thanks to you!".  

When it came to the race, I felt amazing.  I have learned so much this year that I am proud to say I am a more technical rider than I have ever been.  Me and the Crux (aka "Lightning") were flying through the twists and turns, catching air and holding a great position in 4th place lap after lap.  It was a feverous rush in my veins to be flying through the course after battling injuries in the last few years, feeling as if I'm finally on my path back.  And when I burped my tubeless front tire on a rock midway through the race, my friend Charlie who was in the pit for Megan, kindly put air back in my tire as I took my single speed out for a hot lap to retain my position until I could return to the pit for Lightning again.

Photo: Carlos Sabillón

I didn't win the race but I held my 4th place position for the entire race in a field of some awesomely talented women!  Sharing great conversation with the gals in my field was the perfect way to wrap up the day before loading up the bikes and heading back home with an exhausted body and cleansed soul.

I made a choice that day... I could have stared down the dark hallway in anguish and loathing, or could turn my back and walk into the light and choose to live my joy, share encouragement with others, and high five new friends.  I hope others know that, too.. sometimes you just have to choose to look in the other direction to find the life that's inviting you to live it.

Focused on the light,
Kristy Kreme


PSS... What else is on my playlist?
"Bleed it Out" - Linkin Park
"Bad Girls" - M.I.A.
"Happy Go Sucky Fucky" - Die Antwoord   \m/

For the Love of Mountain Biking

There's an interesting moment that settles in on Sunday nights after a race weekend that I've become accustomed to...  what did the weekend's adventures do to influence tomorrow's wardrobe?  After the Cuyuna Crusher in Ironton, MN this weekend, the answer was it's own unique combination.

The bee sting I suffered on my left bicep 3 miles into my race on Sunday left a heart-shaped welt that still throbs and itches to this moment... sleeveless blouse, it was.  Oh yeah, and pack the Benadryl.   The poison ivy on my knee kept me from shaving my legs for fear of spreading the infection so a couple strategically placed Wonder Woman band-aides to cover the calamine lotion and stretchy work pants paired nicely with my top.  Complete with tennis shoes to accommodate tired legs... Monday's workwear was complete!

But that's only one of the odd reminders of how much I love mountain biking.

Jay and I headed up to #ShredTheRed on Saturday morning with our race bikes and a bitchin' Yeti SB100 demo bike from One On One Bike Studio to play and get ready for Sunday's race.  The only bummer was the migraine that settled in as I kitted up for the ride, swallowing a handful of Exedrine and Advil as the blind spots in my right eye made it hard to unpack my gear but I tried to press on.  We headed out with P-Max and I tried to keep up as I begged the adrenaline to chase away the pain.  The kaleidoscope halo's in my vision slowly crept to the sides and the meds kept the pain at bay but did nothing for the migraine fatigue.  Jay and Peter were so kind to wait for me when I faltered and follow me at times so I could push my pace. Me and the Yeti played hard and I had a blast flying through the trail in new ways I'd never done before although every climb zapped my energy more than it should have.

After the ride, we grabbed some food and made our way to the top of True North Base Camp where Bruce offered us a spot to camp with him on top of the world.  Jay, Rosco and I wandered to a shady spot with a breathtaking lookout and I stood silently as the winds whipped up the side of the bluff and cascaded around us in a crescendo of cotton and birch leaves.  It's these moments of still silence that remind me the true depth of calm I find in nature and can sit with peacefully for time unknown.

The evening came and went with new friends, laughter, fires, and a lightning show off in the distance.  We all retreated to bed early due to the impending rain and slumbered lightly when it came in gently as a constant shower to lull us back to sleep.  It was the morning, however, that woke me but I chose not to fall back to sleep.

Chasing the storm was a strong wind which crashed like waves all around us.  It reminded me of the ocean in Mexico, breaking along the shore as I listened with eyes half-closed and soaked in the amazing strength of the sound.  I did everything I could to stay awake and memorize it.

It wasn't long until everyone was awake and headed toward the race.  The next few hours passed in a slight blur as they usually do and then we found ourselves lining up, ready for the start.  It was amazing to be the first woman called up once again, leading the series into the 7th race as the series nears the end.  The migraine hangover lingered so I dropped a few ibuprofen before the race and wore my darkest sunglasses to try to combat the light sensitivity that hung on.

Climbing up the start road made it obvious that I was going to have to fight for every inch as I watched rider after rider pass me and ride away.  I tired to keep it out of my head and press on, celebrating once I crested the top and started the rippin' decent back down to the start/finish to begin our first full lap.  Somewhere before we hit Roly Poly, I was stung in the bicep on my left arm, flailing awkwardly as I swatted away the aggressive bee, then blindly trying to work the stinger out of my arm as I descended with one hand on the bars.  Every time I flexed it was like lightning, so I kept working on it until I felt relief.

I was sitting in 11th place when I came through to start our first lap and settled in to do whatever damage I could in the 21 miles to go.  I fought hard, practiced everything I taught and learned this summer to the nth degree, and chased down rider after rider until I found myself in 6th.  In the final lap, I could see 5th at times some 15-30 seconds ahead of me, but she was a stronger climber than I was and rode away from me in the critical moments.  I rode as hard as I could all the way to the finish and collapsed exhausted in 6th with pride yet fought back tears as my resolve melted away.

Although I severely wanted a top 5 finish, 6th place still moved me farther into 1st place and I couldn't be happier.  I set out this year to finish top 5 overall, so this was the most amazing result to end my mountain bike season with!  Sure, I still have one MAJOR FUCKING SHOW to get to in Austin this year, but the lessons I learned this year will make it a whole other experience.  Me and the ole LaMere hard tail are gonna #SendIt!

I try to explain it at times... there's something about mountain bike racing that fulfills me no matter what place I'm in (yet sometimes I feel like I let myself down, yes)... but most of the time, if I'm off learning to hit something I was once afraid of, pumping through a rhythm section, catching air or just doing something for the first time, I can't deny the pure joy of it all.  It fills my chest with light and makes me feel alive!

Lovin' this dirt under my nails,
Kristy Kreme

Hollywood Cycles - Beyond the Brick & Mortar

More than 12 years ago, I was a little lost in life.  I had a couple close friends, my bookclub, and a deep longing for more in my life... love, adventure, a community to belong to... a place where I finally felt like I belonged.

Until I walked into Hollywood Cycles.

It was the catalyst of change in my life that eventually helped me meet my future husband, my deepest friendships ever imagined, a team that offers camaraderie and taught me how to race, the MN cycling community, and a badass group of amazing new friends I've had the honor to explore the world of bikes with...

and it was this team that became a family.

Looking back on last Friday, the last day the doors would close at Hollywood Cycles, I've been reflecting on all the iterations of the shop that existed, puppies that grew underfoot, late night parties and rock n' roll, legends and locals that came in for Jay's professional skills and sometimes just a lil fellowship.  I'm grateful for the courage I had to quit my day job when Jay relocated to Mpls in 2012, working to help him set up the new shop in a new location.  I had a ton of fun going to work each day with my dog & my best friend, learned a ton about bike maintenance and celebrated a relaxed work environment on all the hot days in summer.

   

And then I think of the troubles, the hard times, the lean times and worry.

But all the pain falls by the wayside when I think of the faces, laughter, hugs and high fives within these four walls.  I rejoice in knowing that our THC* family will last long after the sign on the door fades.  These people who were once strangers in the crowd now hold a place in the deepest crevices of my heart.  My team, my friends, my bike family... for life!

Jay - endless thanks to you for all you've done to make cycling a joyful part of who I am and supporting me through every podium and tear along the way.  You have built an amazing team of unique, fun, kind and supportive people.  You support the underdogs, the competition, the youth and up-n-comers all alike.

You have a heart as big as the moon and have show that your true passion absolutely is to bring cycling joy to all that come to you for help.

Thank you

Cheers to you, Hollywood Cycles, for 14 great years and to Hollywood, who'll keep the dream alive.

Black n' White - THC* - Girl Fiend for life!

<3 kreme="" kristy="" nbsp="" p="">

Single Speed USA - Port Jervis, NY.... What the f%#&?

I woke up at 2:30 in the morning on Saturday to the pouring rain outside, listening to the storm as I pressed my way into the warmth of Jay's arms and tried to keep my mind from running away with the anticipation of the day ahead.  The next few hours passed by with intermittent sleep but, when Jay and I locked eyes at 5:30, we knew it was time to get up and get moving.

Our phones burst to life with flood alerts as we loaded up the last of our things before making the 45 min. drive to Port Jervis for SSUSA 2018.  We jumped into Ramblin' Fever and descended the twisty, narrow road as the rain poured down and flowed along side us like a river.  The water had just crested the first dam we came upon but we passed safely and luckily the next few hadn't yet crested.  It was a white-knuckle drive for 40 min into the small NY town but we arrived with enough time to grab a bite to eat in a tiny diner before the real shit show began.

The rain ceased and the sun peeked out as we settled up our tab and headed to registration.  Dejay was there to welcome us to his playground with hugs and piles of swag (best $65 well spent!). We found a shady place to park the van, loaded up our gear and ran through the final checks of our single speed Lamere's.   We gathered around the fountain in the center of town... a rag-tag group of single speeders in varying degrees of costumes and lycra.  Hugs, high fives and laughter floated throughout the crowd and I chucked to myself as I watched a man and woman dressed straight out of 1950's church attire standing next to a sign inviting us to "Find your way through the Bible".

It appears they new who they were dealing with.

A police escort lead us through town to the base of the Watershed Trail where we climbed a long gravel road to the top but, somewhere along the way, the lead group of us got lost.  Apparently, we were all to reconvene at the top for a LeMond start, running through a knee-deep creek but the groups Jay and I were in at the front never got the memo.

My pack proceeded to climb for 4 miles of rocky, slow single track before we found even a moment of respite.  It was about that time that Jay called me.  We were 1/2 hour in and Jay found himself at the top of 'lap #2'... solo.  I had no idea if my pack was in the right place or not so we pressed on.  Jay hung tight waiting for the group he dropped, convinced he could hear their freewheels approaching.  We later found out it was actually the sound of a nearby rattlesnake.  WTF?!

He called me again while I was pushing my bike up a mile-long hike-a-bike, frustrated that he still hadn't seen a soul.  I was doing the math and it was looking to be a six hour day if this pace kept up but I put one foot in front of the other until I got to the top.  (Just keep swimming, girl). Once there, I was back on the bike but my legs were shot. I couldn't get my speed up so I changed my mindset and focused on the joy of riding completely new terrain.  It was a blast riding the hardest rock beds I'd ever seen... you couldn't even call them "rock gardens" because they they never ended.

Wet from the night's rain that kept flowing down the trails, I focused on riding over the rocks as they clacked and shifted beneath me.  This is one of the greatest joys in my life at this time...  I'm riding with more skill than I ever have before and it brings me life!  Even though I'm not the fastest, most talented mountain biker as I wish I was, I am the best ME on a bike ... better than I was a year ago, a month, f&%$... better than I was yesterday.

Some 5 miles later, Jay texted me, "I'm freaking out here. Please call me". Eh?  I pulled off the trail and used the last seconds of battery that remained to call him.  Every one of our pals that Jay found said they hadn't seen me and it became apparent that my group was not on course, or at least not in the right order.  I told him I'd head to the campground where all the loops were supposed to come through and wait for him... wherever the F that was.  I was over 2 hours in, low on water, and old injuries were dropping in on me to make sure I hadn't forgot them.

I found the campground at (my) mile 17 and found water, beer, and Chewy to rest with and wait for Jay to return.  Muddy, soaked, and exhausted, I sat until he rode up to me pissed that he'd missed all the fun.  Heck, we couldn't find a single person who actually found the entire course and did it in the right order.  Dejay.

We rode back into town to find some food and head to the Riverside Park where we found a shady spot to nap under before the evening's championship games and debauchery started.  Nearby, we saw a small pool about the size of a hot tub, made out of a tarp and some hay bails.  We figured it had something to do with our Rubber Ducky number plates and jumped in to soak out overheated bodies.  We came back to life in the cool water as we made friends with others who joined us for a soak and the rest of the crowd began to fill the park.

Although the course was a friggin' disaster of missed laps, unmarked turns, whatever.. for the $65 entry fee, we got a crap ton of swag, and the party in the park had a live band, a full dinner spread with a hog roast, pulled pork, veggies, slaw, and FREE BEER!!!  Kudos, Dejay & cruė!!!

 As we finished eating, the sun began to set and the heat of the day went with it.  We shifted to the field to explore the demented depths of Dejay's mind and discover how the next SSUSA champions were going to compete.

Heats of 3-4 riders were to ride pixie bikes through a gauntlet of drunken single speeders assaulting them with pool noodles as they navigated a slew of road cones on their way to the duck pond where we had to dismount and cyclocross our way through it.  Luckily, us ladies went first so the 'pool noodlers' weren't too drunk and brazen yet and the hits weren't all that severe (at least in the first heat).  I won the first heat with a nice gap and sat on a small hill watching the men's heats begin as I tried to bring down my heart rate.  I looked over at Jay and whispered "I want to win this"....

 As the men's heats began, full-contact racing and spectating unfolded and the antics escalated quickly.  The 'noodlers' realized they could bend the noodles into loops and hook the bars of the riders, a running sprinkler was saturating the ground into a mushy, soggy mess, and the guys were even wrestling in the duck pond as they raced.

 My whole body hummed as I watched the men's heats, calculating the best bike, the best pole position, quietly anticipating the women's finals.  I was on my feet the second Dejay shouted "Ladies", making my way to the inside start position with the little black n' yellow pixie bike in hand.  It was down to three of us and I carefully lined up my pedals as time slowed down in anticipation of the start... three laps ahead of us...  this was it. 

I got the hole shot but had my bars hooked while riding through the cones on the first lap and went down hard.  As the crowd heckled us on, I scrambled back onto my bike and took the lead back. I dismounted to run through the duck pond on the 2nd lap and I took a hard slap to the face from a noodle, but didn't miss a beat.  I charged through the pond, trying to stay in the lead for the final lap.  Although it was quick, I already felt like puking but stayed focused as I neared the cones and 'noodlers', choosing to stay seated on my pixie bike to keep my center of gravity low and duck under the attempted hooks.   I trampled through the pond one last time and crossed the finish with arms raised, squeezing Dejay in a soggy embrace.

SSUSA 2018 CHAMPION!!!  I'm gonna have fun hammering my name into that Champion's Belt for the third time!  :)

High on the excitement, we partied in the park a little longer but soon rode a few blocks to a nearby bowling alley for the Hosting Competition.  The teams bowled as we drank beers and heckled.  The winners were competing for Austin, TX and we erupted when they won... Texas 2019, here we come!

 We retreated to the campground soon after, exhausted and over-served.  Jay and I set the bikes aside and crawled into the back of Ramblin' Fever for a drunken slumber, waking the next day as the sun broke peacefully through the windshield.  It was such a lovely place!

One of the best thoughts as we prepared to leave was that we still had a week of adventure in front of us.  It was quite the way to start our trip!  Friends, fun, new experiences...  yep, life is good.  We said goodbye to our pals, new and old, and headed back to Sparta for the next adventure.

Let the relaxation begin!
Kristy Kreme

The Perfect Ramblin' Roadtrip

In August, Jay and I set out on what was to become our best road trip ever..

10 days, 8 states, 4 bikes, 2 dreamers..
and one Ramblin' Fever.

In spite of everyone's concern and foreboding, we chose to drive our 1980 Dodge Ram Van "Ramblin' Fever" out to New York for a summer vacation filled with bikes, racing, family, friends, and awesome new places.  Sure, we have no idea how many miles are on her but we've spent the last year getting everything tuned up, replaced, and repaired for just an adventure such as this.  New engine and transmission, new tires and new-to-us captains chairs.. loaded her up and we were ready to rock! Although I knew Jay had a shadow of worry in the back of his mind, I was bathing in a warm feeling of bliss and calm as we headed out on the road after work for our adventure to begin.

It felt like fall as we embarked under grey skies.  A cool breeze and Willie Nelson tunes swirled in the  air as Ramblin' Fever purred along the highway. We were shooting to drive through the night to avoid traffic in Chicago and arrive in Toledo just as dawn was about to break for a cat nap and breakfast before we busted out the bikes for some urban trail riding.

A couple hours into the drive, we were chasing a thunderstorm down 94 as we headed towards Madison, WI. The skies entertained us with magnificent explosions of light and illuminated branches  that seemed to stretch out across the sky for what felt like 10 seconds each time.  We continued to watch the storm as we headed east and the night settled in.

Jay loves driving at night, which is a true blessing and complete opposite of the uncontrolled car-colepsy I experience at night; I'm almost incapable of staying awake on long night drives.  I must have fallen into a deep sleep sometime after Chicago because I woke with a jolt as I felt Jay tap my shoulder and say "Kristy, we're getting pulled over".

The clock read 2:30am and we were somewhere an hour or so out of Toledo, likely the only vehicle on the road.

I sat my chair up, wiped the sleep from my eyes and rolled the window down as the officer approached from my side of the van.  It was humid from the recent rains and Ramblin' was running rich, filling the stagnant summer air with a thick plume of fuel and exhaust.  The officer shined his flashlight on our faces and the dash and opened by saying "I pulled you over because your license plate isn't illuminated".  Jay smiled and nodded, sharing that he had discovered the same problem just hours before we'd left, likely a problem from me getting rear-ended in June that we hadn't realized.  He handed over his license and insurance cards and the officer said he'd return with a warning as long as everything checked out.

We sat in the van patiently as I sleepily giggled about the officer's demeanor and the thick fuel smell we could now taste on our tongues.  As he spoke to us, it was as if he was afraid to look into the back of the windowless van.  I only saw peeks of his face as he made quick glances at us around the door frame. Twenty minutes went by and he still hadn't returned and we deduced it was going to be one of two results:  he was either a) trying to find SOMETHING to get us with, or b) he was waiting for the second squad car to arrive.  But, he returned, apologized for the wait, and sent us on our way with a printed out warning.

After idling so long, Ramblin' roosted the officer with a thick cloud of smoke as we pulled back onto the highway and we shared a nervous laugh together... crap, now he's gonna get us.  Ha!   

Jay continued to drive the last hour or so to Toledo where we found an all-night diner.  We pulled around to the rear employee entrance where there were no lights and parked the van.  Jay shoved aside our bags and blew up the thermarests, making a cozy bed in the back of the van with our feet nestled precariously beneath our bikes and snuggled by our gear bags on all sides.  We slept for a couple hours, woken up by the growing summer heat and sunshine filtering into the windshield and the morning delivery truck unloading next to us.

We clambered out and shuffled into the diner in need of a red eye plate and some fresh coffee. (Queue Supersuckers "Good Livin'" for proper theme music).

The diner was run by one cook and one waitress and they were killing it!  The delivery guy was stocking the shelves with his morning delivery as the UPS guy heckled the chef from the counter service seats.  We laughed and ate as the few hours of sleep and stiffness ebbed and I planned our morning ride.  Back in 2016, we passed through this area on our way to SSUSA in Pennsylvania where I found us an urban single track to ride.  Thanks to the AllTrails app, I was able to find us the same trail which had grown since we were last there!  So, we headed out, kitted up, and hit the dirt at Jermain Trail as the summer heat set in.

There we were at 10:00am on Thursday riding singletrack in Toledo, only 16 hours after we'd left home.  Splatters of sunshine clawed their way through the dense canopy above us as we navigated the flowy singletrack. Deer quietly roamed the trail along side us, popping their heads up as we passed in relative silence.  It was the perfect way to spin out the legs before making the last charge to NJ - our bed for the night and base camp for the next few days.

I took over the reigns and cranked up the tunes as we watched the miles fly by.  About a third of the way down I-80 in PA, we hit traffic.. major traffic.  The sign had said there was road construction ahead, but no one was moving.  After 20 minutes, we had only moved about 3 or 4 car lengths... another 30 min. went by and we didn't move an inch.  Sitting in a cloudless sky and 90+ degrees, we were HOT.  Every car around us had their windows up and likely had the AC's cranked.  Our fully carpeted 80's dream had no such luxury so we dripped sweat in our seats, hanging out the window trying to cool ourselves in the smallest breeze if we could.

Over an hour had gone by and we hadn't made it a mile.  I sat and watched as the engine and transmission temp gages began to climb and Ramblin' began to chug in the heat, eventually dying in the left lane.  We knew it was just the heat but something had to be done to resolve this on our own - there was no way AAA was coming to the rescue here.  Jay looked at me and said "Switch. There's no  way you'll do what I'm about to do".  

So we traded places as the cars idled around us and I flagged the semi next to us that we needed to get over to the right shoulder.  The next time the cars moved, he let us over and Jay took it all the way to the shoulder but didn't stop to let her rest.  I checked the map and we were only 3 1/2 miles from the next exit so Jay kept it moving on the shoulder, passing maybe a 1000 cars and semi's packed so tightly in desperation to move, no one tried to stop us.  But hey, if you saw Ramblin' Fever coming up the shoulder after two hours of mind-numbing traffic, would you have believed it?

I found us a 10-mile detour that we drove as Ramblin' chugged but improved greatly as the moving air cooled the '92 Magnum under the hood and we jumped back onto I-80 just after the construction zone and purred along as if nothing happened.  I waited a moment but, once we were both relaxed again I cranked up "Eastbound and Down" by Jerry Reed and we sang along with smiles on our faces,  petting the carpeted dash and praising Ramblin' for being so awesome.

We were now a few hours behind our goal but still took in the beauty of the sunset behind us as we counted down the miles to our next stop, "Forrest Lodge" in Sparta, New Jersey with our good friends, the Christians.

At 11:00pm, we rolled into the quiet community and revved the engine one last time before putting Ramblin' to bed for the night.  We shared the day's adventures with Joe and Cindy over a beer before joyously heading to bed (in a bed!) for some much needed sleep.  We made it!!!  And in Jerry Reed's words, "Eastbound and down, loaded up and trucking', we gonna do what they say can't be done"... yep, we did what they said couldn't be done!

The first mini-adventure of the trip was a success.  Oh yeah, and we're only on day 2!

Stay tuned for more epic stories to come.. riding in NJ, Singlespeed USA antics, the Belt!, New York City, Rock n Roll, and sand dunes, and more riding!

Awwww, feels so good to finally start telling the story!
Ramblin' On,
Kristy Kreme

Single Speed USA: If you weren't having fun, you were doing it wrong

Last Wednesday, we departed for a week-long adventure up to Copper Harbor, MI for Single Speed USA 2014.  What we hoped for was a damn good time... what we found was the most amazing trip of the year.

We started off with a road trip up to Seve's lil slice of heaven in Minong, WI.  Nestled atop a hill overlooking the Totagatic River with water so clear we could see the ridges of sand at the bottom and large fish as they swam by.  The peacefulness of the location was amplified by the laughter of friends that kept arriving, beers cracked open, and the sound of fresh fish frying on the skillet.

 Camping with the 29nSngl crue is the only way to travel!

 We hit the road the next morning after a tasty breakfast at Flap Jacks, then some interesting photo-opps while grocery shopping....

 We led out the caravan of 8 vehicles with Tim W. at the wheel, Hwood navigating, and me sleeping in the back with my belt.  Only 6 hours to go til we made it to our destination.  The skies were blue, the heat climbed, and the trees got more and more dense as we neared the U.P.

 

Before we left the land of cell coverage, we stopped in Houghton for some food and beers, making sure to leave our mark before we hit the end of the Earth.

Once there, our group split to go set up camp.  Jay, Tim and I shared a lil corner lot in the East Campground and were first to set up.  We jumped on our bikes and headed toward the gravel trail that connected all the campgrounds to town, in search of our 29nSngl buds.  Within 5 ft of jumping on the trail, my front wheel washed out in a gravel/rock turn and I ate $h!t hard.  I ripped open my right knee and elbow and just sat there... stunned, pissed, annoyed.. that side had just healed up from my crit crash in July!  So, I got back on the bike and we found our pals quickly.  The three of us did a short ride out thru a beautiful prairie that led to the trail section called "Downtown" and back for a light spin, then straight to the shower to scrub the &%$# dirt and gravel out of my limbs.  

We laid low that first night, knowing we still had to recover from the previous nite's 2:00am party scene and had much more to come.  We woke around 10:00 Friday morning and headed out for a ride to start checking out the trails which were new to us.  JR hooked us up with the most breath taking trail combo along 'Garden Brook' that we had to ride it twice.  On our return to the campsite, a bee flew into my helmet and I jerked the bars when I attempted to rip off my helmet.. over the bars, flipped into the thistle on my back.  Grrrrrrrrr

So Jay, Tim, Josh, and I found ourselves a sweet little grotto in Lake Superior to rinse off the dander and cool our sore muscles before race night.   Later that night, we headed into town for packet pick-up and the pre-party. Friends from all around were there and the Mpls contingency was strong.  With free beer flowing from the taps and a 16ft wooden teeter totter in the field, it was sure to get rowdy. The only trouble was, that teeter totter was the preliminary round to qualify for the title of SSUSA Champ.. the only way to retain my belt...

I was terrified by the chance of falling off and injuring myself thanks to the Hollywood Hex.. when he'd gone to the UK to defend his SS WORLD Champ title in 2001, he crashed his bike the night before the race and broke his collar bone.  He didn't get the chance to defend his title.  I'd already crashed twice and was a little on edge.

So, to make it easier on my vertigo, Hwood gathered up our THC, 29nSngl, and Twin Six friends to line the teeter totter and catch me if I fell.  "Hold my beer and watch this"... my alter ego "Boozy", donned in the SSUSA belt and "One Bad F'in B!tc#" bikini top, hopped on the rickety old bike and charged for the teeter totter.  I lost speed as I hit the lip of it, but had enough momentum to get to the apex and ride it down the other side!  I howled with my fist in the air once I cleared it, shaking from the adrenaline and excitement of my accomplishment for some 20 min. after.  WINNING!  The rest of the night was a blast with music from the Shindaggers, contests, more beer, and Spinner and I giving our final shouts to the crowd as the current champs.

Riding to the race with the belt in tow

The race/ride morning came fast, and we kitted up for the wild ride ahead of us.. 30+ miles, 3100+ feet of climbing, and the gnarliest trails I'd ever seen.  We started with a 'neutral' roll-out up and around a mine on paved to gravel roads for a few miles before entering the single track.  Still attached to the back of the lead group, I lost contact once we entered the single track and allowed a handful of riders to pass me by in sections I wasn't confident on.  Sections like Garden Brook and Bullwinkle flowed fast through large pines lined with thick ferns and mossy undergrowth.  Ones like Downtown, Paul's Plunge, and On the Edge tested my fortitude.  

And on top of the world, overlooking the Keweenah Mountain side, was a part of 'The Edge' that took my breath away... during the race, I just pulled off the trail and stopped to admire it.  Heck, I did that a lot.. who knows when I'll be back to Cappa Habba, so I might as well take it all in while I can, right?

With the climbing, rocks, and roots that were unrelenting, my back started to give up.  Maybe it was the previous 2 days worth of crashes but, whatever it was, I took my time getting to the finish and trying to take in the beauty and the lessons of the trail as I hunted for the finish.  Sore, tired, and slightly nauseous after the race, I met up with Jay at the finish, grabbed some cold beers, and began to gather our friends for a much needed retreat to our little 612 Grotto in the lake.

There was a mini 'reef' of rocks that nestled about a foot below the water, keeping the water warm and allowing us to sit and cool our aching backs and legs.  We brought music and a couple cases of beer, sharing trail stories and basking in the wonderful warmth of the exceptionally hot day.  It was the most spectacular chunk of time of the entire weekend.  Learning about friends, making new ones, and enjoying the silly childlike jokes of warm spots in the water and seaweed.

 

 #bestdayever

We lounged in the water until our white jersey/shorts tan lines of cyclists began to turn pink and made our way back to camp to ready ourselves for the evening's festivities and final contests.  Unfortunately, Jay and the boys had me convinced they wouldn't start without me since only me and one other woman completed the preliminary round... #famouslastwords.  For those who understand, "Jay-time" has been suspended until further notice.

As we rolled to the park, we saw Fiona riding away with the belt... we missed the derby...  I missed my chance to defend my title.  I was devastated and admittedly unconsolable for an easy 45 min.  It was gone, and there was nothing I could do to change it.

My husband and friends were near enough to try to make it better and somehow only Jorge was the one I'd accept a hug from.  As I tried to process my disappointment and find a way to pull myself out of my funk and not ruin the entire trip, I found a small circle of people starting a drinking game in the afternoon sun.  "Whatcha doin?"  We played a game where only your feet could touch the ground and you had to bend over and pick up an open bottle of whiskey with only your mouth, slam it, and put it back... things were about to get weird.

It wasn't just the "amazing healing power of beer" that helped turn the night around, as my favorite sticker says.. it was the healing power of friends, teammates, and the single speed community that helped wash the salt out of my wounded ego with cans of IPA and shots of jagermeister.  It was the reckless abandon of derbies and games that brought it all back to center... we were here to have fun. Period.

So we raised up our favorite beer coozies and put the F-U in FUN!

Yoga Drinking Games?  Try Down-Dog-Up-Dog-Tandem-Shots!

Once every challenge was bested, we kept having to take it to the next level.  I taught the crowd about butt-crack-primes by starting a derby around a handful of ladies and one young lad who had dollar bills sticking out of the back of their shorts.  

Once the money was gone, we took singles from the crowd and moved the primes into the derby, 612 Mafia style. I may have missed 'the' derby, but the ones we created got rowdy and awesome FAST!  One of the MC's even stopped us to say thanks for bringing the party to the next level.  Dollar Bill Derby = Worst Wedgie Ever!

What we didn't expect was the addition of ketchup to the games.. one guy was spraying us down in the derby with ketchup, making us look like 70's slasher film victims as we rounded the trees lap after lap.  When Tim took the ketchup as a shot, he scared an EMT half to death when he began throwing up a red liquid, but couldn't stop long enough to reassure her that it was just ketchup.

Some of the best photos to sum it up were all caught by one of my fave photogs, Todd Bauer, and the amount of Single Speed debauchery he caught was perfect!  Check out his gallery here.  From late night derbies, awesome beer from Blackrock Brewery (try the IPA!), to the broken teeter totter-picnic table feats of strength, it was a night full of smiles, cheers, and heckling.  For the final contest of the night, the Host City showdown came down to a bucket kick game, where two opponents sat atop a 5 gal. bucket, holding the hands of their opponent, while trying to kick the bucket out from under them.  Seve was the victor, taking the hosting rights once again to win it for Wisconsin!  Third year straight in the upper midwest.. 2015, here we come.

Drunk, exhausted, and trying to follow a straight line, we meandered back to camp to sleep it off before beginning our trek towards home... but first we had to shower off a crap-load of ketchup. #Ihateketchup

Sunday morning, we packed up camp when we woke up and took the scenic route along the lake on our way to Houghton, stopping at Jacobs Falls for a short hike and some beautiful scenery. 

We stopped at Kaleva in Houghton for breakfast and headed straight to Hayward, WI. for the night.  Luckily, we got on the road in time to catch a nice 2 hr ride on the Seeley Pass and some putt putt before settling in for a bonfire with Morgan and Matt.  It was a great way to spend our last night of vacation, filling each other in on all the madness one another had missed during the times we were separated.

We woke to rain in the morning and the campsites beginning to flood, so we packed up quickly and hit the road.  It was fun sitting with the boys, laughing about all the shenanigans and memories we'd made.  We all agreed it had been the best memories of the summer, heck.. the year!  Only 360+ days til we get to do it again.

In the contest of Most Fun Wins, we won with a vengence! 

Countin' down the days to SSUSA 2015, 

Kristy Kreme