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

Forest Lodge.. the start of our East Coast adventures

Our weary bodies gently fell into bed and slumbered for a much needed 10 hours as the insects chirped outside our window.  We were held blissfully captive in Sleep's arms until the morning sun woke us through the cabin windows around 10:00am on Friday.  Joe, Cindy, and Anna had long been awake but generously let us slumber to catch up on sleep after the 2 1/2 hours of sleep we had the night before.

In the light of day, I took in the spectacular surroundings of the quiet lake community with hot coffee in my hands.. breathing it all in from the wraparound deck and enjoying the silent peace of the lake.  After breakfast, we suited up for a road ride with Joe and Anna to stretch out the legs and enjoy their little piece of heaven.

The ride was beautiful.  Every twisting turn lead to another, every climb gave way to a rewarding decent, and the landscape was peppered with old barns and farmhouses that had been well loved and maintained for decades.  We were 32 miles in and an hour from the cabin when a gentle rain began to fall on our warm skin.  Joe checked the radar and reached for our phones, quickly putting them into a zip lock bag.. "We're gonna get wet".

The welcome drops quickly turned on us as a heavy downpour rolled in and thunder rumbled off in the distance.   Lightning moved in over our heads, exploding violently as the thunder shook the air around us.  I was honestly terrified, hanging precariously on the edge of panic and full meltdown as the pouring rain washed the tears from my face.  With two climbs separating us from the cabin, we had to ride straight into the storm to find our shelter.  I lost my cool as we made our final climb and the lightning seemed to crash along side of us, but Jay stayed with me every foot of the way.

It moved past us as we made the final mile up the gravel road to the cabin and I finally took a much need breath to recover.  Jay and I shared a soggy hug as I regained my composure, grateful to have made it back to the cabin.  We all separated to get warm and dry and were quickly warmed by Joe's presence in the kitchen as he prepared some hot food to set us all up for comfort for the rest of the day.  With a tasty beer and my favorite pens, I took some time to catch up on my journalling as the rain dripped off the porch roof.

 Joe took us out on the neighbor's golf cart to give us a tour of the lake and the community, sharing with us the long history of the families that built the cabins that surrounded us.  Decades of family legacies stretched out around the lake, roots spread out over the rocks that the foundations were built on and continued to give life to the stories that came to life at the table at night.  Great food, warm company, and shared laughter closed out the night and we crept off to bed to prepare for the next phase of our road trip... Singlespeeds...shenanigans...beer... and debauchery.  What better way to recover before the shit-show was about to begin.

Enjoying a lil home away from home,
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