Dirty South Roubaix 2024

 

I swore in 2020, after my first Dirty South gravel race, that I would never do it again. I hate long races. I like short races. But sometime in December Eli got a wild hair to register for this 100k gravel race so then I got a wild hair and signed up, too. No, I would not jump off a bridge if Eli jumped off a bridge, but this is cycling and I'm easily influenced. This photo, lovingly shot by Amy Strahan, shows the big smile I had on my face about halfway up the first impossible climb. That smile is a bald-faced lie. There probably wasn't a bigger lie told that entire day in the wilderness of the Shawnee National Forest. I was already hurting and there was about 45 miles to go. I pulled myself together and finished in the top 100 (out of 500-ish) and bettered my 2020 time by 20 minutes. But mark my words: I will never do it again. I mean it. I'm not kidding. Don't take this lightly. You'll see. Nope. No way. 

This was Eli's first gravel race. Actually, it was his first race longer than a 2 hour mtb race. He did well, finishing in the same time that I did in 2020 for the exact same course. He got a super cool 2nd place trophy in the juniors class. Not bad for a short-race kind of guy. He slept most of the way home in the car. Oh, the sacrifice. I guess the peace and quiet gave me time to contemplate my failures and pathetic triumphs of the godforsaken Dirty South race. Not that I'm going to do it again. Just musing about riding more so that long races wouldn't hurt so bad. Not that I'm going to do it again.

Once home, the Beautiful Mrs. K and I went to get Mexican food. I ate chips and salsa. Tacos. Beans. Rice. I drank some of her margarita. I drank a big Coke. At least two big glasses of water. When we got home, I ate Mrs. K's leftovers that she was saving for lunch the next day. And pretty much, as I write this on Tuesday, I've been eating non-stop. I will stop eating soon.

And the hound dog could care less.

She's Just a Baby!!

 

Although she turned 24 two weeks ago, she's just a baby. Maybe not a diaper-wearing toddler. But you don't really expect me to believe that she's all grown up, do you? Ok, she has graduated college. And moved out of state. And she lives in a posh apartment. And yes. She makes more money than I do. But all grown up?

I guess she is grown up. She eats way more like an adult than I do. She drinks Matcha. What kid drinks Matcha? I still drink Coke while eating Little Debbie fudge cakes. 

At Least Someone Enjoys the Snow

This guy really seems immune to the weather. He goes out in the heat, cold, rain, and yes, heavy snow. He really likes snow. On Friday when it started snowing so hard, he was at the back door begging to go out. We threw the Frisbee to him a bunch, and there was no stopping him. He would plow his nose into the snow, jump up and down, sprint across the yard, jump for the Frisbee, whatever. And no, he doesn't have any Husky in him at all.

Covered in snow, he finally gave up. He looked a bit sad and maybe a bit cold as he scratched at the back door to be let in. But don't kid yourself. Over the next few hours he practically beat down the door to go out again and again. I seriously wish I had his love for the cold. He and I are NOT alike in that way.

Forty Five Years of these Shenanigans

 

How it Started

How it's Going

I started this whole adventure in 1979. My dad drove me and my Mongoose out to Bonzai, a BMX track at the intersection of 270 and 70. It was built on the back lot of Central Hardware. I won my very first moto, which was as much of a surprise to me as it was to anyone else. I was a 12 year old comic book nerd who liked riding BMX bikes with my friends. As so many stories go, one thing led to another and suddenly I'm 57 and still racing bikes. 

Obviously, there has been a ton of water under that bridge. Lots of ups and downs. More than my fair share of successes. A lot more failures. A few big injuries. But, like it or not, it's made me who I am. I've benefited from luck as much as I've benefited from hard work. Right now, I'm reaping the greatest rewards of a charmed life. My kids are wonderful people and great athletes. My wife and family are into cycling and the bike business well past anything I could have ever imagined. 

I don't compete at the front of the races anymore. I had planned on stopping 3 years ago because of that, but then Eli started racing and it just seemed like a really stupid idea to quit. His interest in racing reignited my own. Funny, now I love racing more than I have in 25 years. 

I certainly don't have another 45 years in me. No way. Like everyone, I have health problems that don't make this very difficult sport any easier. No excuses, I'm just going to try to enjoy racing as much as possible. Maybe I can pass on some of what I've learned to the amazing new group of kids and youngsters who've started racing NICA and the other cycle sports. 

Onward and upward. Never grow up. Never grow old. (ok, maybe old)

A little Getaway

 

Our darling children got together and bought us a Christmas present. It wasn't a pair of lonely socks or a sorry knick-knack to clutter the house. It was a getaway. Actually, a Getaway Bloomsdale. This organization has a handful of tiny one-room houses on remote rolling hills in southeast Missouri. Our particular little home-away-from-home was named "Siprina."

Incredibly well-made and very well thought out for a one room house. Actually, there was a bathroom/shower as well but everything (bed, table, stove, sink, chairs, storage, etc) was in the main room. Our bed was poised against a gigantic picture window that faced east for a great sunrise. It's pretty amazing how a lack of room forces a person to be as tidy as possible.

So we took a selfie as soon as we brought in our stuff.

And, we went for a hike on the grounds. Sort of looked like Bluffview with no regard for 20 percent grades. Too bad it was only 1 mile long. 

Never to miss an opportunity to build a fire, the Beautiful Mrs. K spent an very long time coaxing one to life in the fire pit. We brought along some burgers and she roasted them for us while I watched her from the warmth of the house. I know, I'm a real catch.

Not wanting to roast our own breakfast, we drove into Bloomsdale proper to eat a country breakfast at Cozy's. It's a cool place, with a more bar-focused Dew Drop restaurant attached to the other side. We ate at the Dew Drop that night. Best fries ever.

Not ones to sit and stare at ourselves the whole weekend, we scouted out other places to hike nearby. We have passed St. Francois State Park many times on our way down to St. Joe State Park. We decided, since it was very close, to give the Mooner's Hollow trail a try.

It reminded me of Chubb Trail in a lot of ways. Very rugged, lots of roots, steep ups and downs. The whole trail is a 3 mile loop. Mostly dry, with a couple real-deal creek crossings.

If you hike anywhere in Missouri, you'd feel right at home at Mooner's Hollow. We had a great hike here. And just for good measure, we hiked the Nature Trail back at the homestead again before dinner. 

Thank you to our wonderful kids for the thoughtful gift. We enjoyed the time away.