November, 2010

Life is a study in contrasts - I grew up playing tennis at Forest Lake Country Club. Now I go to Northside Park where we've got to turn the lights on for ourselves, and I carry a 9mm. Last year's Crescent Challenge had 20 competitors. This year, the field consisted of only 9 hardy souls. Here is the recap of the 2010 Crescent Challenge in its slightly reduced, yet still squalid glory. Webmaster

Backdrop

The biggest challenge of the Crescent Challenge this year was simply attending said Challenge. Apparently, for some of the competitors, 10 days notice was not sufficient to bail on their family and/or significant other for the entire Halloween weekend. Well, that's one way to separate the wheat from the chaff, so to speak. Only the most dedicated, iron-willed, and possibly deranged individuals were sure to show for this year's challenge, and that's just the way the organizers wanted it. Yes, the disarray, the lack of planning, the waffling over dates and locations, those were all just an illusion, a charade if you will. Rest assured, it wasn't easy taking those calls from stressed out competitors, and listening to the rumors regarding our competence to plan such an illustrious event. In the end, we knew it would be good for you in the long run. Congratulations to those of you that passed the test.

Friday

Sitting on his front porch, still working, the navigator was anxious to get going. Unable to take the day off as has been customary, he had done quite a bit of packing in advance, but would still be rushing to get out the door by the time his Wife and Daughters got home. He was borrowing his Wife's 4-Runner for transport to the Challenge, as it's hard to pack a motorcyle and mountain bike into the hatch of a Volkswagen Golf. When they rolled up, the navigator began to feel queasy, and a sinking feeling lodged in his gut. Understand, this was the vehicle he would within minutes be driving to the CRESCENT CHALLENGE for God's sake, a testosterone-addled event if there ever was one, and painted in huge purple, white and yellow letters down the side of the black car was the slogan: "JUSTIN BIEBER ROCKS!". On the back window: "I LOVE UNICORNS!". On the other side: "I LOVE MY FAMILY". His Bride and eldest Daughter cackled at their evil plan, explaining that he'd just be wasting his time trying to wash it off. So, the navigator simply shrugged his shoulders, packed the car, strapped down his motorcycle, and headed north. As we stated earlier, life is a study in contrasts. Witness the stares of other motorists as the navigator powered past them on the interstate: "Could that fellow with the bad-ass supermotard strapped to his 4-Runner really be a card-carrying member of the Justin Bieber fan club ?"

Barreling up I-26 towards Asheville, the navigator's cell phone began vibrating - hmmmm, an incoming call from Russell Park. Figuring Russell was simply lost, imagine the navigator's horror when Russel uttered the words "Navigator, I've got bad news, I don't think I'm going to make it to the Challenge." And there you have it. Russell Park, a multi-time Challenger, a man that grew up holding UFC-style fighting matches in a home-made octagon in his backyard, a man that is the personification of "The Bastard on the Couch", bowing out at the last minute, succumbing to the pressures of family and work. Surely there is a rip in the very fabric of space and time. Shaken by this development, the navigator took the nearest exit and bought himself a ZAX Snack and a large sweet tea. When his cell phone began vibrating again, he mustered the courage to answer it and took a call from Jennings Harley and Justin Bieber, I mean Williams. The good news is that Jennings and Justin were actually at the Challenge, albeit having driven around in circles for about an hour trying to find Holt's house. The bad news is that they were the only ones there. Next to ring in was Kevin Fennington, stating that he as well was hopelessly lost. Turns out the directions that Andy had provided everyone were absolute shite, almost as if Roberson were trying to test the navigator's legendary navigation skills. He must have been watching a re-run of the Seinfeld episode where everyone was doing the opposite when he wrote the directions, as numerous turns were the exact opposite of what you would actually want to make. Unfortunately, it looked at this point as if everyone BUT the navigator was paying the price for Roberson's trickery.

After successfully reverse-engineering Andy's directions, the navigator rolled into Holt's compound at about 10:00pm. His bladder was near bursting as he had refused to stop at any of the backwoods gas stations out of fear of being an easy target for some local crew ready to pound on some fag driving a Bieber mobile. To his dismay, the very first thing he sees is, what else, Kent Peggram's bike upside-down on Holt's porch, ready for major surgery. Some things never change. At this point however, how could the navigator get mad ? This was tradition by now. He actually took comfort in seeing Kent's hopeless bike, prostrate on the operating table, a sure sign that all was again right with the world. The navigator strode into Holt's abode, and as expected, stumbled into a small party underway. Justin had been kind enough to secure a beer sponsor, Kind Ale, brewed at Greenville's own Thomas Creek Brewery, so the already-present Challengers, after being stressed out during their travels, were relieving some tension. Getting the most out of their weekend off, Andy, Eric, and Holt had actually been rock-climbing most of the afternoon at nearby Ship Rock, while the rest of us poor slobs had still been working.

Saturday

Wilson's Creek. Yup, that's where the traditional Saturday adventure ride was conducted. I have no idea what we rode, but it was fast, kind of scary in some places, and lots of fun. Try looking it up online and you won't really find much, but I did find some good photographs and video's at Sir Bikes Alot. Well, this ride was full of misadventures. The challengers bombed the trail single-file, with the usual suspects in the lead, but only 5 minutes in Eric pulled up short with a flat. The navigator (on tubeless tires) bravely gave up his spare tube, and frantic repairs ensued. Shortly thereafter, as the group came out of the woods into a rock-strewn, sandy flat area, Andy was the next to go, but he had a bit more than a flat. He basically had no sidewall left on his front tire. Months of neglect, with the trusty green "Kawasaki" hanging un-used in his man-cave had allowed dry rot to take over, and this went un-detected. We had plenty of tubes, but no spare tires, so Eric and Robert wheeled around, and hammered all the way back to the parking lot to retrieve some fresh rubber. This proved to be an excellent training ride for Robert Mobley, in fact he went on to place 13th OVERALL in the Assault on Mt. Mitchell a few months later. If you don't believe that, here is both photographic proof and a link to the results.The remainder of the group retreated as well, but at a more sedate pace, with Andy walking.

Pause

People often ask me, "Webmaster, why does it take you months to produce the Crescent Challenge recap each year ?" Well, in case you hadn't noticed there is quite a bit of typing to do in order to produce this much drivel, and I just squeeze it in here and there. For instance, right now it's 5pm on Super Bowl Sunday, and I'm typing this in the bathroom because I've just lost all control of my bowels. That's what happens when you have just liquified the entire contents of your colon by ingesting a 14-day dose of Miralax in the space of a few hours. My wife tells me I should try harder to look at the bright side of things. Wow, I'm going to be stuck on the john for six hours. What a perfect opportunity to come up with a few more paragraphs in the recap.

Continue...

On the retreat back towards the parking lot, Tom O'Hara realized his rear cog wasn't working too well. Apparently his bike wasn't quite up to the punishment meted out by Wilson Creek either, as his cog in fact totally seized, with the end result being Tom had no choice but to trudge back to the parking lot and head home. Sooner than we would like to admit, Robert and Eric returned with Andy's new front tire, which was so fat it looked like something that belonged more on a 4-wheeler than a bicycle. The clearance was so dodgy that Andy was in real danger of spontaneously locking his front brakes on the remainder of the ride.

Pause

Another two months have passed, and I've still not been able to get the recap done. Several competitors have been pressuring me to finish, so the writing continues during brief moments of downtime at the beach while on Spring Break with the fam.

Continue...

The group took one major rest stop when the trail veered close to NC Hwy 181. Several motorcyclists in the group became agitated when the wail of some sportbikes reverbrated through the mountains. For those of you unaware, Hwy 181 is well-known as a sportbike paradise, several miles of uninterrupted ribbon-like asphalt, with plenty of 3rd and 4th gear corners. The navigator had a flashback, mentally revisiting the elusive "Trifecta" that Andy Roberson had dreamed up in August and that he had participated in. A triple-threat of trail-running, rock-climbing, and sportbike riding that was all accomplished in one day. The last leg of the trifecta was a high-speed blitzkreig of Hwy 181, ending with a feast at Bojangles down in Morganton. As such, the navigator couldn't resist jumping out of the woods and egging on the riders, who were of course more than happy to respond to his machinations. Sorry for that distraction, just lost in a reverie there.

Mechanical failures continued to plague the group. Was it the Wilson Creek terrain, or was it simply a lack of preparation on the part of several competitors ??? I'm beginning to think that mandatory tech inspections at Lucky Bike might be a requirement next year prior to the event. Fennington's rear shock gave up the ghost half way through the ride, unable to rebound any longer. There were two more tube punctures, and then just before we had to cross Wilson Creek, Andy's derailleur snapped in two, which left Andy with no choice but to jog the remaining few miles while pushing his disabled Kawasaki. Somehow the Crescent Challenge Saturday ride always turns out to be a mini-epic. By the time the group emerged from the woods and pedaled/jogged to Walker's Country Store, it had gotten rather late. In addition to the mechanical issues, Jennings' right thigh had knotted itself into the shape of a tennis ball. As he writhed in pain, a decision was made to split up the group. Kevin, Holt, Eric, and Robert would ride out on the road to retrieve the vehicles, and two vehicles would come back to Walker's for the remaining competitors. Initially this seemed like a great plan. We were all hot from riding, Walker's had food and beverage (peanuts at least), and we didn't think it would take too long for the rescue party to return. However, Walker's soon closed, we cooled off, and the evening temperature started dropping. The proprietor of Walker's was kind enough to just ask us to shut the gate behind us when we left. Several strategies were employed to stay warm. Calhoun, Andy, Justin and Kent at various times explored the single-track winding up the mountain behind the store, which was a bear sanctuary according to the signage. We played basketball. We jumped up and down. Some tourists stopped by looking for firewood, and Andy sold them a couple of bundles, sliding the revenue from the sale under Walker's front door. Finally, almost 2 hours later, we spot a pair of vehicles that at last are for us. Holt is at the wheel of Andy's car, and Robert is driving his truck. Eric and Kevin have apparently been left behind at the house. Robert was quick to load up Jennings and Kent and they were off shortly, not waiting for us, which proved to be an error in judgement. We loaded up Andy's car at a more leisurely pace, and then departed the scene as well.

The Hunger

It was at about that time that the navigator announced how hungry he was. His hunger somehow infected the others as well, and before long, Andy, Justin and Holt were also desperate for food. Unfortunately, the group was facing several logistical problems. One, they were racing against the clock. All the eateries in Roan Mountain worth visiting were known to close by 8:00pm. Based on their coordinates at the time of hunger, they had a slim chance of reaching Roan Mountain in time. Two, they were dealing with spotty cell phone coverage in the area, making communications with the other competitors exceedingly difficult. Kevin and Eric were reached back at the house, and ordered to go investigate the local pizza parlor forthwith. No one was able to ascertain the whereabouts of Robert Mobley and crew. As they drove through Newland, passing various eating establishments, the navigator began to lose his composure. Understand, the navigator, at a wet weight of 130 pounds, is not replete with the type of reserves that can stave off hunger for very long. Soon he was demanding that they stop in Newland, and the hell with any sort of team spirit hogwash. Fortunately, cooler heads soon prevailed. A brief moment of cell phone coverage in Newland allowed contact to be made with Kevin and Eric again. As it turns out, the pizza joint was closed, but they had promised the folks at Highlander BBQ in Roan Mountain that if they would just stay open a few minutes late, a crew of half-starved mountain bikers would soon show up and make staying open very worth their while. If you ever go to Roan Mountain, plan on eating at Highlander BBQ. The owners were very friendly, and fed us plenty of really good food. Thinking ahead as always, the group also got to-go boxes for Robert, Kent, and Jennings, who as it turns out eventually made it back to Holt's house, and were wondering where everyone else was.

Pause again

And yet another 2 months have passed. Apparently I am only capable of working on this website while relaxing at the beach. Once again, here I am pecking away on my laptop, while getting the evil-eye from the rest of my family members. Apparently I'm not participating properly in our vacation. You won't find much more writing, the majority of effort was spent populating our photo gallery. Next year, someone needs to bring a GoPro.

The Bonfire

Sated, the challengers had the typical Sat night party, which, as is tradition, goes undocumented. We partied, some of us went to bed early, we had a bonfire, some stayed up really late.

Sunday

After a leisurely breakfast and some cleanup, the challengers went their separate ways. Some were due back home, as Halloween was underway. Others went for some more mountain biking, apparently having not been punished enough the prior day. Holt, Calhoun, and Kevin unloaded motorcycles and went in search of "The Snake", aka Hwy 421 in NC. Unfortunately, Kevin was facing a Halloween-imposed deadline, and before reaching the elusive snake, had to retreat. This was a critical error in judgement, as only 15 minutes later, Holt and Calhoun found themselves on the Snake proper, some 450 corners in about 12 miles of perfect mountain road. It was the perfect way to cap off a fantastic weekend.

See you Next, I mean this, Year...

The 2011 Crescent Challenge is just around the corner. Which corner, I don't know. I am just a lowly webmaster now . Yes, in a plot more akin to some sort of military Junta, I have been relieved of my duties on the planning committee. Reasons given were something to the effect of "That damn webmaster, he can't even get the recap out on time, much less plan an event of this magnitude. What a bunch of crap, it is early July, and not a peep about the location/date of the 2011 Challenge yet. Enough of this testing the competitors bullshit, we need some order and planning in our complex lives". OK then. So, when is the 2011 Challenge ?

The Webmaster