South Side XC Devo Team be Rollin' Up the Wins!

 

That headline might have fooled you into thinking that I took one of those wins, but NOPE. I did get this pretty cool photo, though!

We raced in Cape Girardeau today, at a wonderful little park called Klaus. I've raced there quite a few times over the years and it never disappoints. So twisty, so flowy, and quite a bit of elevation but you might never know it. The ups and downs are meshed together pretty well so it never seems like you climb very long. 

The Devo's were devastating today, taking 1st, 2nd, 5th and 6th in Cat 1. Then 1st, 2nd, 4th, 8th and 9th in Cat 2. The Marathoners saw 3rd and 4th go to our team. The Women's Cat 2 race had a Devo win as well as 3rd, 4th, and 5th place finishes.

Wow! It was awesome to see 18 riders in the white, red, and black Devo kits. 

Exceeding your own Expectations

I think a lot of athletes pick out that one moment in their athletic career that feels like it was their "best". The kind of moment that most other moments are measured by. 

I'm super lucky. I've had many experiences on my bike that were beyond my own expectations. Maybe that's a better point, that exceeding your own expectations actually defines "best" more appropriately.

Aside from my own tendency to dwell on every failure I've ever had, I do have a lot of incredible mental snapshots from BMX racing, mountain bike racing, road racing, and even duathlon and running races. 46 years of competition contains a LOT of memories.

Arguably, the photo above is on paper head and shoulders above my other cycling achievements. That is the 1985 World Cup in Nashville, Tennessee. I've probably never been better in any of my athletic pursuits than that very moment. But I have many, many more "lesser" achievements that stand out stronger. 

One example, and usually the one that comes to mind when I go down the ol' memory lane: I was 13 years old in 1980. My dad had been taking me to the races for a few months and I was still a "Novice", not yet upgraded to "Expert". The hot local track was Supercross, which was on Missouri Bottom road (there is a paintball course there now). It was a week night and I was the only 13 Novice to show up, so they slotted me in with the 13 experts. I won. I was as surprised as the Experts. When we got home my dad, who rarely spoke, announced to my mom: "Well honey, Timmy beat the Experts tonight".  He said it like the United States Olympic Committee was going to show up in a few minutes and give me a medal. 

I know in the world today that winning big at the highest level of sports is the only thing that matters to so many people. Don't get me wrong, that level of physical excellence is amazing and the effort necessary to get there is almost unbelievable. But I've been taking stock of a lot of things lately, like what I've achieved, what I didn't quite achieve, etc. I keep coming back to the idea of exceeding my own expectations. 

(I'm not sure who to give photo credit to for the photo I've included. If it is your photo, please let me know so I can give credit or compensation. Thanks.)

 

A little Fight left in the Old Man Yet

Rhett's Run mountain bike course in Columbia, Missouri is quite a piece of work. It's about as technical as you can get. And every time I race there, it seems to be more climb-heavy than the year before. It's actually a pretty ancient race, as I can remember racing there 20+ years ago.

This time it went really well, despite the scorching heat which caused the race director to shorten the race by a lap. Still, an hour and a half of mountain bike racing on such a technical course can take it out of a guy.

I kept a good pace and fought off heat stroke to find myself in 5th overall, and first guy over 50. This, despite a ridiculous 1mph high-side crash in an UPHILL switchback and smashing my elbow into the gravelly ground. 

The SSXC Devo team did great, and we had a win on the female side and podiums in the other classes, too. Onward and upward, race fans!

 

Happy Father's Day to Me!

The day started off like most days, except it was better than most days. My favorite daughter Hanna (star of Fitness in the Fast Lane) had clandestinely deposited a suspicious bag in my bedroom. I assumed it was for Father's Day, but who knew it would contain such wonders? Snacks! And some creepy mouth tape to keep me from snoring. Thanks honey!

Next up was a large, heavy cardboard box. The Beautiful Mrs. K had ordered up a gift for me that every yard freak covets. The cordless weed whacker with the battery the size of George's block of cheese! No way I'm running out of juice before all the weeds have been sufficiently whacked. 

Eli came up with something that was on the one hand a Father's Day gift, and on the other had a big middle finger to Mrs. K and I for taking him on long hikes as a kid. We used to tell him they were only a mile or two and they'd end up being 4 or 5. And I usually forgot to bring water and snacks. So today our 53 mile ride with a gas station stop "right up here" turned out to be a 67 miles ride with a gas station stop just before Mrs. K went Hulk-on-Loki on Eli. It was a brilliant ride, nonetheless, capping off my longest week in years.

And I was able to spend 40 of the 67 miles riding on a Rice Crispy Treat wrapper that was plugging the massive gash in my Corsa Pro. I ran over a piece of glass the size of a golf ball. Thump-thump-thump-thump went the bulge. I kept letting more air out of it as the hole expanded, each time getting a little less thumping. Until it expanded again and the thumping reached a fever pitch. I ended the ride at around 30psi. Rice Crispy Treat wrapper still holding at the time of this writing.  


 

From Tiny Things

In April of 2020, Remi barged into our lives as a tiny tyrant. He was so noisy.  He grumbled and growled and moaned and groaned all the time. Even in his sleep. I thought he might be in pain or something, but he was just very vocal. Notice how his head comes up just barely over where a pair of gardening boots might fit on The Beautiful Mrs. K's leg. 

And in April of 2025, here he is, guarding Mrs. K's gardening boot. He's playing a game here to get her to come outside and chase him. At 90 pounds he still moans and groans a little, not like he did as a pup. These days, I'd have to rate his bark as the loudest I've ever heard from a dog. Google says the loudest dog bard ever is 113dB and my ears say Rem might be close.
 

MTB racing, iPhones, and Hound Dogs

For three years running, we've loaded up for the Iron Mountain MTB race in Arkadelphia, Arkansas. (Does anyone else feel like Arkansas just kind of ran out of names for towns, so they just started joining existing names and going with it?) This year, we had a larger group show up, about a third of the South Side XC Devo team. Isaac and Eli went One/Two again in Cat 1, and we had 5 other top tens in the Cat 2 fields. It was awesome! The red/white/black Devo's were everywhere!

Great pic of Eli, taken by one of the Devo parents. It was not an official race on the calendar for the team, but we talked it up a lot. We had the big tent, screaming parents, and bottle hand-ups that would make the pros envious. 

No fault of the photographer, but I don't look quite as awesome on a bike as Eli. But I'm 58 dammit and I'm still racing bikes....

...and I got a second place in the old guy Cat 1 class! And I was the second-oldest, believe it or not. 

Speaking of old. My iPhone turned 6. The case is 6 years old, too. Parts of it have broken off, kind of like an 80's car, only with fuel injection and no ash tray. Still charges fine. Won't get reception if I leave my street. I just hold it up really high and walk in circles until I get a bar or two.

And then there is the Hound Dog. You see that brown? That would be green grass, like the rest of the yard. But this monster has beaten a path straight down the center chasing squirrels and birds. 10 times a day, every day. And he loves me for playing Frisbee with him. Which beats down the grass even more. 

Hound Dog turns FIVE this year!

My big baby turns 5 years old this year. He is the biggest kid I know. Always up for chasing squirrels, barking at the wind, and endlessly catching Frisbees! 

I never thought I'd have a dog this big. Or this loud. But he's one of a kind and I don't know what I'd do without him. Probably sleep a lot better. And sweep up less hair. And I'd have grass in the back yard instead of a vast wasteland. But I'd rather have 90 pounds of pure Remi.

 

Home Made Toaster Pastries - What?

Oh yeah, You read the headline correctly. Except I call them all Pop-Tarts. But who knows who might get their corporate panties in a bunch if I called Hanna's block-busting creations Pop-Tarts on this world famous blog? I'm not sure I care, but someone might. Bunched panties aside, I am smitten by these things. I could eat all of them, but I was relegated to one because of a pesky concept called "sharing".  

Well, Hanna heard my pleas for more home made goodness. At no point could Kellogg's (now Kellanova?) make something this earth-shatteringly good. At least nothing that could be packaged and sold for $2.99 at your favorite grocer. I asked Hanna when I could expect my weekly deliveries of these things, but we will have to see how it all pans out. You know, job, Fitness in the Fastlane, social life, they would all have to be put on hold if I'm to get as many of these as I want. Oh well. 

Don't feel sorry for the Hound Dog because he doesn't get home made Pop-tarts. He sleeps on Egyptian Cotton sheets, after all. 


 

Spiders own the World

A few times a week, I take a Swifter and go around the fixtures in the store. Every single time, I scoop up these little spider webs. Sometimes I'll do it two days in a row. It's easiest in the morning when the bright sun lights the little webs up like white threads. 

No joke, it's constant. These spiders are relentless. They can build their traps for unsuspecting insects like miniature railroad workers. How? I never even see them. Where are they? I see the webs, but I never see the spiders themselves. They only leave behind the evidence.

The last thing I want to do is destroy their hard work. Really. But I also don't want an early morning customer thinking that we are negligent in our cleaning processes. Because what's next? "If they don't clean up the spider webs, maybe they don't build the bikes right!" Can't have that. 

In conclusion, if you see spider webs in the store, say something. I have a cabinet full of Swifters standing at the ready. And we did build the bike right. 


 

Happy Birthday HGK

The years are closing in on you! A quarter century! 25 years! Better start drawing up the last will and testament! The broom wagon is right behind you!

All kidding aside, the years have been kind to my eldest child. 25 years ago today we turned off the Rams Superbowl game at half-time to grab this one out of the oven. (Not a football fan, but we did win, so there is that)

Talk about a super-successful person. This one has been writing her own ticket for a couple years now. Even the side gig is no longer a side gig. Fitness in the Fastlane is a total expression of her and what can be accomplished with some grit and attitude. I'm very proud. Her first 25 years have been a smash hit, no telling what the next 25 years can bring. I love you, Hanna!
 

That Time Again! Year End, 2024

That's right, the end of 2024 is nigh! That means weird behaviors, strange rituals, incredibly insane shopping stories...and decorated sugar cookies. I'm not tryna brag, but my MEH cookie is in a totally different league than Alex's perfect cookie. Who wants a sugar cookie so perfect that you could shellac it and hang it from a hook on your Christmas tree??

I had to include this photo of us making the aforementioned cookies because I thought the expressions were priceless. Tyson looks like he's wondering about the success of introducing bacon grease to a sugar cookie, but he hasn't said anything yet.

All year, I've been getting photos like this in my inbox. I'm pretty proud of her, but I'm also thinking it might be a passive-aggressive way of her telling me to get my flabby buttocks back into the gym. "How many plates you want on that Olympic bar, Hanna?" "I reckon I'll take some of the Big 'uns" she said.

I saw this on the internet the other day, and I thought it was such a perfect word! I applied it to Eli's trip to Gulf Shores with Kai. 

They meandered around the Gulf area, visited Florida (no Florida Man sightings) and generally just coddiwompled around until they ran out of money and time. They are almost home as of this writing.

Name tags are essential in some social settings. 

What is seemingly very boring news, I got a new mountain bike. What was not boring was that it was a surprise. I had no idea that my family had schemed to get a new bike for me for Christmas. It was only after asking a thousand questions about how to prepare this bike for a made-up customer that Eli finally spilled the beans and told me it was for me. Not only that, he mentioned that the new Boyd wheels that have yet to arrive would have decals that matched the yellow graphics on the new bike! I'll take another pic of that when I get them. I may be in the twilight of my cycling career, but my bikes keep getting better! (you don't have to feel mahvelous, you just have to look mahvelous)

Speaking of mahvelous! Not really. But it was better than last year by a chunk. I had a few good races, too. I won a Tuesday Night Crit. I won a cyclocross race. I think I did 17 races total this year. I'll take it. 

And The Beautiful Mrs. K did what she does: Gathering, organizing, planning, promoting, encouraging, riding, coaching...it's exhausting! 

And Remi the Hound Dog continues to do Remi. 

Atta boy, Rem.

And last, but certainly not least, we got a band together. Not like a musical band. But a band of coaches and mechanics and mountain bike nerds to give a stepping stone for kids who want to go farther with their sport. South Side XC Devo. You will see them everywhere in the early spring, riding, racing, and more. Say hi, give them the thumbs up, and watch for bigger and better things. 

Now then. On to...

 

Ride To Fame

When it comes to bicycle collectors, their motivations vary quite a bit. Some collectors want bikes they had as kids. Some want the bikes they couldn't afford as kids. Some just want to collect and flip and make money. But usually, a Freshour bike collector is different. Freshour frames are quite rare, as not many were made to begin with, and even fewer survived the 40-ish years since the last one was welded up in Sikeston, Missouri.

Steve Freshour has the best reason to collect them: He is the distant cousin of Jerry Freshour himself. Gathering these odd racing frames up and keeping them as family heirlooms is probably the best reason I can think of to be a collector. Steve contacted me some time ago and we talked about him designing his travels from California around a trip through St. Louis. It would be a great opportunity for me to see the old TK frame, and he wanted me to sign a few of the items for posterity's sake. Eli and I had gotten a road ride together last Sunday, putting us in a perfect place to meet Steve at Greensfelder as he made his way through St. Louis.

It was so cool to have Eli see some of the old world stuff. We were able to cruise the TK and another cool white model around the lot a bit. I was surprised they actually rode ok, thinking that new world stuff had just gotten too different. But nope, they were nice, and Steve had even built them up true to the 80's. Some parts, of course, just had to be newer, but they were legit enough to give me the warm and funny 1984 feels. The TK had the correct bars and fork, too. This was one of my earlier ones, as it also had the lower mounted seat post clamp (pain in the butt, but very unique).

I signed a few number plates and top tube pads for Steve's collection, and we bade him farewell and safe trip. I'm super happy that there are people out there who want to preserve the old stuff. The tiny Freshour Cycle company carved out a much bigger chunk of BMX history than I ever imagined. 

Endless Things to Write About

My guess as to what's going on here: Max and Hanna found a washing machine that fell off of a delivery truck. M is deciding whether he can time his jump just right to skip across the top of the machine and clear the fence. Kevin is telling them to lift with their legs and the weight is all in their minds. Katie is wondering if all of the kids laundry will fit in one load. Or, everyone is helping deliver a new washing machine to Hanna's apartment. Can't really figure it out.

Before the washer antics ever got under way, M was on flashing his 3rd place podium style with the other South Side kids at the Queeny cyclocross race.

I was in no danger of tripping over a podium step, that's for sure. But I did have a great race, at least I thought so. It was hilly. It was hard. I dropped my chain, although it didn't effect my placing in any way. And I had a victory though: I didn't wear any base layers, tights, or other cold-weather wear. I raced naked, if you will. We all know I could've done a race on a day like today dressed like the Michelin man. Or that kid in A Christmas Story.

I did mention that it was hilly, right?

Remi came along. As a bonus for the kids who know and love him, he played the "drag a kid around the cyclocross course" game. Fun for kids of all ages!

Birthday Delicacies and my other Peeps

 

The Beautiful Mrs. K turned 29 again this year, and with that momentous event came the goods. Cake-style goods. First up was the Black Forest cake from Kishia. Oh, let me tell you. There was chocolate. And some kinda alcohol was used, like, Rum or something? Anyway, it was something else.

Normally, I brag about the cupcakes that Flannery whips up for us. This time, she brought cheese cake. But again, there was chocolate. Game changing chocolate. I didn't mean to, but somehow I ate more than my fair share of Mrs. K's cheese cake. I actually ate the last few pieces. Definitely a party foul. But maybe Flannery will make more?

I joke with Hanna that she only works out in the finest gyms. We have a good laugh about it. But yesterday I got a text with this photo. I mean, does this look like a gym that Rocky Balboa would work out in?? No, it doesn't. It looks like a gym that Apollo Creed would wear his American Flag boxer shorts to work out in.

Brett and Lauren moved to Bentonville this past summer and left a big hole in the South Side empire. Good for them, as that place is a bike rider's paradise. But it sure was nice to see them today while they were in town for a bike polo tournament. I have the best time goofing with these two. Hoping to get down to visit them in Arkansas soon.

I got a great Facetime call this afternoon from Eli. He was riding up Beech Mountain in North Carolina. His goal was to climb a vertical mile (5280 feet). In his neck of the woods, That comes in 30-ish miles. While we were talking and he was pedaling, he asked me what my maximum climbing in one day was. I told him roughly 5800 feet, the day I climbed Mt. Lemon in Arizona in 2016. A little while later, he sent me this gorgeous photo of the sun setting, as he had reached the top of Beech. And, he ended his day with 6080 feet, in 36 miles.