For work, I've been doing some maps and reports for the Central Appalachian area's caves, and last monday and tuesday we had the meeting to talk about it all. The meeting was interesting, but the part that was even better was when they actually brought us into a cave. I didn't think I would like being in a cave, because I generally don't like small dark spaces that are underground. But, we were told that we would be going into one of the biggest caves in Virginia, so I was slightly reassured.
When we got there, two guys gave us a little talk on the history of the cave and caves in the area, and then explained where they would be taking us. The shorter guy was going on a slightly more strenuous route, for "those of us who like climbing up and down", while the taller dude was going to take the group more interested in the larger passageways. The Boston contingent chose the walkable passageways.
The cave opening was this door into a highway culvert--I guess that many of the caves on private land are gated, to keep out intruders and to keep the inside of the cave more like what it had been before us pesky humans had come and disturbed everything. We descended the culvert, which had a wooden ladder on it, and soon found ourselves clambering downhill through a big tunnel thing. It almost looked manmade, until you paid attention to the faults in the rock and the way the ceiling was formed. Occasionally we'd pass smaller passageways to the sides, some of them way up high, some of them half-filled with rocky debris from the last floods, most of them too small (according to my expert opinion here) for an adult. We saw the occasional bat, mostly eastern pipistrelles, which had the cave biologists in our group very excited. Frankly, there wasn't much life down there, so I guess seeing a cave beetle could set you off if you spend enough time underground.
We stopped at one of the side passageways to take a look down it. I poked my head up there, and decided there was no way I would ever fit through there. It disappeared off into the darkness, barely big enough for a small cat to squeeze through. Our guide said he'd been down there, apparently it leads into a much larger room, but there was no way that we were going there.
This cave apparently has 17 miles of passageways, and we saw barely a mile of it. Our guide took us up to the upper passageways, which were a little drier and a little larger, and we only had to crawl once. At one point, he showed us "the pit", and with my dinky little light I couldn't see the bottom, which is supposedly 150 feet down. We did get to see some sweet helectites (I really don't know what these are, they were described to me as "stalactites that have gone crazy"), they were these delicate little crystalline things, I guess they're pretty rare. Mostly, the cave just looked like slimy limestone, with not much happening biologically. One of the first things I noticed was the lack of airflow-- if you farted, it smelled for a looooong time. I did this experiment away from the group, luckily.
After the helectites, our guide was talking about taking us through "the rabbit hole", but luckily we were out of time. I know that I had no interest whatsoever in going through something called "the rabbit hole".
Cavers come up with some interesting names for their caves... I made a list of my favorite ones from the caves we were looking at during the meeting:
50 Foot Hell Cave
Commander Adama Killer Bat Cave
Dying Skunk Cave
Hellhole Pit
Holy Terror Cave
Mashed Finger Cave
Rubber Chicken Entrance
Salamander Suicide Pit
Sheepshit Cave
Thistle Ass Cave
Stupid Cave
Stupider Cave
Definitely Nasty Cave
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Moosilauke Hill Climb
After a thoroughly enjoyable rainy mountain bike ride, the kind of ride where you're reminded why you ride bikes, I headed up to NH for the Dartmouth ski team's time trial up Moosilauke. Sandwiched between these two events was the Belgian Beer Festival, something very worth attending, and I ate so many waffles and cheese-filled pretzels that my stomach was actually too full to drink any water when I got home.
I found myself on the starting line for the time trial, and all of a sudden I got really nervous. I'm not amazing at uphill running races, but I'm not horrible either, and although I had been telling myself that I just wanted to run as much of it as possible (often, you have to walk large parts of these things because they're too steep), I realized that I actually wanted to do well. Uphill running is generally a good indicator of where your ski fitness is, although there are exceptions. So, the course started out really flat and not-rocky along a river, and although I ran this, it was more of a jog/trot than a real run, because I didn't want to waste myself. I knew that the "last sure water" sign was at 1.6 miles, and the whole thing was 3.7, but that was all I knew about the course other than the fact that somewhere it "kicks up steeply", according to the trail description.
I had started fairly early, number 20, with 30 second interval starts, and the girls in front of me were mostly slow with slightly larger than normal behinds. I had caught most of them by the last water sign, I caught the last two shortly after that. Although this was good for my ego, it wasn't great for my time, and I was feeling pretty complacent. It got a little steeper for a while, and I speed hiked, trying to keep my tempo up and my strides light and quick. A couple guys came by me; the original plan had been to stick with anyone who passed me, but these guys were just flying.
I carried on with my plan of running wherever possible; there were many places where this was possible, in fact, most of the trail was runnable. I maybe should have taken that as a sign to run fast, but I kept waiting for it to get steep, when I knew I would need my legs and I didn't want my calves to cramp up. After a couple short switchbacks I got to the first open area, and I got blasted by some freezing mist. Note to self: when the top of the mountain is shrouded in a cloud, and you're perfectly comfortable running uphill in your layers, you will probably be cold if you are no longer running uphill. Just thoughts for next year...
I had no idea how long the open area lasted, I remembered from hiking Moosilauke last spring that it was open for a while, but I guess we had been on a different trail because before I knew it, a little hump of a rock appeared out of the mist and there were some bundled-up folks cheering me to the finish. Huh? Finish? Already? I guess you aren't supposed to finish an uphill running race and feel like you can do it again, but at least I didn't start to hard and blow up. I happen to be a queen of blowing up. Generally in a spectacular fashion, but sometimes just with a whimper and a tear. Although this wasn't a great race, in fact it didn't really feel like a race at all, I was pretty pleased with how it had played out, and I ended up just about mid-pack, and pretty close to some fast girls.
So, yeah, uphill time trials. woot. Two weeks until West Yellowstone, gotta stay ski specific here. I'll be at the Connecticut VERGE, though, getting lapped by Lynne Bessette. Gotta stay humble!
I found myself on the starting line for the time trial, and all of a sudden I got really nervous. I'm not amazing at uphill running races, but I'm not horrible either, and although I had been telling myself that I just wanted to run as much of it as possible (often, you have to walk large parts of these things because they're too steep), I realized that I actually wanted to do well. Uphill running is generally a good indicator of where your ski fitness is, although there are exceptions. So, the course started out really flat and not-rocky along a river, and although I ran this, it was more of a jog/trot than a real run, because I didn't want to waste myself. I knew that the "last sure water" sign was at 1.6 miles, and the whole thing was 3.7, but that was all I knew about the course other than the fact that somewhere it "kicks up steeply", according to the trail description.
I had started fairly early, number 20, with 30 second interval starts, and the girls in front of me were mostly slow with slightly larger than normal behinds. I had caught most of them by the last water sign, I caught the last two shortly after that. Although this was good for my ego, it wasn't great for my time, and I was feeling pretty complacent. It got a little steeper for a while, and I speed hiked, trying to keep my tempo up and my strides light and quick. A couple guys came by me; the original plan had been to stick with anyone who passed me, but these guys were just flying.
I carried on with my plan of running wherever possible; there were many places where this was possible, in fact, most of the trail was runnable. I maybe should have taken that as a sign to run fast, but I kept waiting for it to get steep, when I knew I would need my legs and I didn't want my calves to cramp up. After a couple short switchbacks I got to the first open area, and I got blasted by some freezing mist. Note to self: when the top of the mountain is shrouded in a cloud, and you're perfectly comfortable running uphill in your layers, you will probably be cold if you are no longer running uphill. Just thoughts for next year...
I had no idea how long the open area lasted, I remembered from hiking Moosilauke last spring that it was open for a while, but I guess we had been on a different trail because before I knew it, a little hump of a rock appeared out of the mist and there were some bundled-up folks cheering me to the finish. Huh? Finish? Already? I guess you aren't supposed to finish an uphill running race and feel like you can do it again, but at least I didn't start to hard and blow up. I happen to be a queen of blowing up. Generally in a spectacular fashion, but sometimes just with a whimper and a tear. Although this wasn't a great race, in fact it didn't really feel like a race at all, I was pretty pleased with how it had played out, and I ended up just about mid-pack, and pretty close to some fast girls.
So, yeah, uphill time trials. woot. Two weeks until West Yellowstone, gotta stay ski specific here. I'll be at the Connecticut VERGE, though, getting lapped by Lynne Bessette. Gotta stay humble!
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
The highlight of this weekend was biking home from a house warming party with a full quiche duct taped to my water bottle cage and top tube. It came home in perfect condition. I couldn't bring the salad home, though.
Oh, I raced, too. But it doesn't count, because I couldn't finish. Great course, free food afterwards, amazing day for a race. I'll be there next year. Too bad I haven't figured out this whole circular motion thing with your feet to propel you forwards on these strange steel machines. Maybe it takes practice. Although I'd say the bigger problem was falling on my face every chance I got. Apparently you have to pick up your feet higher than the barrier to jump over it.
Photo stolen from Josh, without permission. I'd say it sums up how my race went on Saturday.
Oh, I raced, too. But it doesn't count, because I couldn't finish. Great course, free food afterwards, amazing day for a race. I'll be there next year. Too bad I haven't figured out this whole circular motion thing with your feet to propel you forwards on these strange steel machines. Maybe it takes practice. Although I'd say the bigger problem was falling on my face every chance I got. Apparently you have to pick up your feet higher than the barrier to jump over it.
Photo stolen from Josh, without permission. I'd say it sums up how my race went on Saturday.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Gloucester Goals Recap
As a reminder, they were:
-focus on Gloucester for two weeks
-increase mileage to >0 miles per week
-Tiered goals based on percent back, place, and people I beat
-Ride cleanly, put on time in runup
So, I focused on Gloucester. Kind of. I actually rode almost 200 miles in those two weeks. I know, you're laughing, but thats 200 times more than I was riding before. Lets keep in mind I also trained 31 hours over those two weeks, with one of those a rest week (For me most of my training is running, rollerskiing, and core strength).
Day 1, I was 10.04% back from Lynne Bessette. This means I got a tier 2 goal! Yay! Day 2 I was 12.6% back from Lynne, which is a Tier 3 goal. I got another tier 2 goal with my top 30 on day 1. And a tier 3 with my top 40 (of like 38 finishers) on day 2. Now lets talk about people... of the random names I chose for tier 1, I beat Pauline Frascone by default (she crashed out and couldn't finish) on day 2 (Pauline if you read this, I hope you're alright!). I didn't beat Melody Chase, but I rode with her and was at times in front of her on day 1. Perri Mertens didn't race. Or sign up. Tell me why I picked that name again?
Tier two names: I beat Hannah Kirshner on day one, but she beat me on day 2. I don't think Meg Bilodeau raced, or at least didn't finish. I was nowhere near Marci Titus-Hall (shouldn't that be a tier 1 name?). Of the tier 3 names, I beat Allie Kenzer by default (I think she and Pauline took each other out. I hope you're both ok!) on day 2. But I was nowhere close to her on day 1. Sue Mclean beat me on day 2 (didn't start day 1?), and I beat Erin Duggan on day 1 but not day 2. Ok, so beating random people doesn't mean anything. What counts, is that I wasn't lapped by Lynne Bessette! That, and I was by far the strongest runner-upper of the little groups I was riding with.
So, it feels to me like most of these goals were fairly meaningless, but at least I can feel good about making some of them. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I had fun racing at Gloucester, and i feel like it was a successful weekend for me. I was neither last nor lapped, and I actually had fun out there. The coolest part was actually riding with a group of riders, instead of being out there suffering alone in no-man's land. Granted, they then all beat me, but it was fun anyway. And fun is why I do this sport.
(picture blatantly stolen from picasaweb)
-focus on Gloucester for two weeks
-increase mileage to >0 miles per week
-Tiered goals based on percent back, place, and people I beat
-Ride cleanly, put on time in runup
So, I focused on Gloucester. Kind of. I actually rode almost 200 miles in those two weeks. I know, you're laughing, but thats 200 times more than I was riding before. Lets keep in mind I also trained 31 hours over those two weeks, with one of those a rest week (For me most of my training is running, rollerskiing, and core strength).
Day 1, I was 10.04% back from Lynne Bessette. This means I got a tier 2 goal! Yay! Day 2 I was 12.6% back from Lynne, which is a Tier 3 goal. I got another tier 2 goal with my top 30 on day 1. And a tier 3 with my top 40 (of like 38 finishers) on day 2. Now lets talk about people... of the random names I chose for tier 1, I beat Pauline Frascone by default (she crashed out and couldn't finish) on day 2 (Pauline if you read this, I hope you're alright!). I didn't beat Melody Chase, but I rode with her and was at times in front of her on day 1. Perri Mertens didn't race. Or sign up. Tell me why I picked that name again?
Tier two names: I beat Hannah Kirshner on day one, but she beat me on day 2. I don't think Meg Bilodeau raced, or at least didn't finish. I was nowhere near Marci Titus-Hall (shouldn't that be a tier 1 name?). Of the tier 3 names, I beat Allie Kenzer by default (I think she and Pauline took each other out. I hope you're both ok!) on day 2. But I was nowhere close to her on day 1. Sue Mclean beat me on day 2 (didn't start day 1?), and I beat Erin Duggan on day 1 but not day 2. Ok, so beating random people doesn't mean anything. What counts, is that I wasn't lapped by Lynne Bessette! That, and I was by far the strongest runner-upper of the little groups I was riding with.
So, it feels to me like most of these goals were fairly meaningless, but at least I can feel good about making some of them. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I had fun racing at Gloucester, and i feel like it was a successful weekend for me. I was neither last nor lapped, and I actually had fun out there. The coolest part was actually riding with a group of riders, instead of being out there suffering alone in no-man's land. Granted, they then all beat me, but it was fun anyway. And fun is why I do this sport.
(picture blatantly stolen from picasaweb)
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Gloucester pictures
Now that the internet finally works from home, here are the pictures:
Hotness Incarnate
Everyone's getting into the hot spandex...
Ed riding the sand before the highway through it got cemented.
Roz with the hole shot (and the awesomest face)
Rachel explaining just how she totally won that battle with the course tape...
"owwww my legsssss"- you can only wear an outfit like that if you know you'll do well. Which he did.
Pure determination.
Another one of Thom, for good measure...
And one of me. About to pass all those non-runners...
I plan on putting together a series called "pain faces", because I have so many varieties of pain faces... don't hold your breath though, it might come this week, it might come next week...
Monday, October 15, 2007
GP of Gloucester, day 2
Ah, day 2 of racing. My nemesis. I woke up, and felt like hell. My lungs hurt, I was coughing up lovely clear phlegm, and I was gasping for breath walking up the two flights of stairs to the hotel breakfast room. We decided that we had a while until I raced, so we went up to Rockport to be tourists and found some of the most amazing pastry I've ever eaten this side of the Atlantic. After some rock-hopping, it was back into race-mode. And then I found out that the course hadn't changed, at all. Only faster. My desire to race just went way, way, down.
I lined up in the back row again, and the start was similar to the first day, only less enthusiastic on my part. I hadn't even started racing yet and I already was thinking of how much it was going to hurt. I did the same thing as yesterday, moving up slowly, until I couldn't move up anymore. Make up spots on the run-up, lose them on the pavement, things were going alright for two laps. Third lap I kind of blew up, lost my group, started to wheeze, felt like hell, started sliding backwards faster than Lynne Bessette moves forwards through the men's B pack. This mostly happened on the pavement, as usual. Finally Kim Blodgett caught me, and I clung to her wheel like my beagles to the garbage they try and eat, until I felt a little more recovered.
By the time we got to the pits, I was feeling a little readier to punch it, and we caught back up to Linnea's group of herself, Hannah Kirshner, and Erin Duggan. I rode with them for the next couple laps, mostly just willing my legs to keep up on the pavement, and then in the sand on lap 5, I started riding sloppy and took myself out. It felt good to lie down, so I sat there in the track for a moment, causing Kim and Erin to dismount, and Linnea and Hannah to get away. Running out of the sandpit, my left thigh was kind of numb, I guess I whacked it pretty hard on my saddle. I got back on the bike, and it felt really funny. Oh, my saddle is twisted by 30 degrees. Good thing the pit is right there.
Got everything straightened out, lost another couple places, and tried to convince myself I could catch the girl in pink arm warmers. When I was just as far behind her after the run-up, my will to race sort of drifted away from me. My legs were sending clear messages that they were done, and since I had backed off, my brain was clear enough to hear and interpret these messages. After making sure that the next girl behind me was well behind me, I soft pedalled in and wallowed in my physical misery.
At least I had hot pants. For everyone who saw the silver knickers (or the blue hibiscus ones) on me, or the green shiny ones on Linnea, and you're jealous and want some for yourself, check out www.fiestawear.blogspot.com, Linnea is selling these spandex, although shes just starting out right now and theres not much on the blog. You could have your very own hot pants.
Pictures are coming.
I lined up in the back row again, and the start was similar to the first day, only less enthusiastic on my part. I hadn't even started racing yet and I already was thinking of how much it was going to hurt. I did the same thing as yesterday, moving up slowly, until I couldn't move up anymore. Make up spots on the run-up, lose them on the pavement, things were going alright for two laps. Third lap I kind of blew up, lost my group, started to wheeze, felt like hell, started sliding backwards faster than Lynne Bessette moves forwards through the men's B pack. This mostly happened on the pavement, as usual. Finally Kim Blodgett caught me, and I clung to her wheel like my beagles to the garbage they try and eat, until I felt a little more recovered.
By the time we got to the pits, I was feeling a little readier to punch it, and we caught back up to Linnea's group of herself, Hannah Kirshner, and Erin Duggan. I rode with them for the next couple laps, mostly just willing my legs to keep up on the pavement, and then in the sand on lap 5, I started riding sloppy and took myself out. It felt good to lie down, so I sat there in the track for a moment, causing Kim and Erin to dismount, and Linnea and Hannah to get away. Running out of the sandpit, my left thigh was kind of numb, I guess I whacked it pretty hard on my saddle. I got back on the bike, and it felt really funny. Oh, my saddle is twisted by 30 degrees. Good thing the pit is right there.
Got everything straightened out, lost another couple places, and tried to convince myself I could catch the girl in pink arm warmers. When I was just as far behind her after the run-up, my will to race sort of drifted away from me. My legs were sending clear messages that they were done, and since I had backed off, my brain was clear enough to hear and interpret these messages. After making sure that the next girl behind me was well behind me, I soft pedalled in and wallowed in my physical misery.
At least I had hot pants. For everyone who saw the silver knickers (or the blue hibiscus ones) on me, or the green shiny ones on Linnea, and you're jealous and want some for yourself, check out www.fiestawear.blogspot.com, Linnea is selling these spandex, although shes just starting out right now and theres not much on the blog. You could have your very own hot pants.
Pictures are coming.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)