The Hill of Truth became a Mountain of Lies

As far as I know, there were not many lies, except for the one team racer who was caught cutting the course. I just thought it was a funny tittle for what was an awesome day of bike racing.



The moment where Shawn realized that his head was marked as a wanted man. Drew took him down by printing Anti-Shawn jerseys.












credit Brad




































The disco ball at the top of the Hill of Truth was awesome. There was a moment there where the true meaning of the term "Dancing on the Pedals" became clear, but it was fleating, and until my next moment of clarity; I can't put my finger on it.














Also, I should brag on myself and point out that if you are wondering who won the race within the race, it's this guy:

If a $4 Punk Show Can Change The World; a $35 Bluegrass Show will Cover it with Gas and Set it on Fire.

Old Crow Meicine Show at the Tennessee Theater.









Time to go race.
The Anti-Shawn jersey will be unveiled before the start of the 12 Hours of Hill of Truth.

My Empire of Dirt

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and if I had a penny for my thoughts I'd be a millionaire.

Armed with a camera, bikes and beer; me and the wife brought the dog to set up camp at Tsali. We headed up the tail of the dragon and into the mountains of North Carolina. Upon arrival and after making a few loops through the camp sites, it became glaringly obvious that there were no open sites. This was going to be a problem, since we chose Tsali for its trail side camp sites.
I noticed a closed road across from the sites, and there was what appeared to be a maintenance area with a picnic table, gazebo and plenty of lumber. Perfect for vagabonding.

Free your mind and your bike will follow. Tsali is known for groomed trails that attract a crowd that's usually new to the sport. As the anthesis to demanding riding, Tsali's flowing trails roll effortlessly through the woods while delivering staggering views. A cacophony of colors burst around every singletrack turn in the autumn forest at Tsali.

In auto-pilot, reflecting on bike culture, I came to the conclusion that riding a bike is summed up by moments like these. Unlike the thrill of victory or the agony of defeat, riding bikes is all of the above. It’s the struggle and the simplicity. Bike culture is the adventure of riding your bike downtown to a concert, and the melody of the ride home. Bike culture is, as most Knoxville riders know, post-ride refreshments at the trail head amongst good company. Likewise, a good ride is summed up by the self-defeating struggle to the top of the hill that is instantly forgotten as you prepare to descend.

Like a black rebel motorcycle gang or a long-haul trucker, the joy of the open road (or the beauty of the back country) calls us to ride. The destination of the journey is the journey itself.

Let God be your Gardener

AWESOME COLOR


Tsali, NC

rain in the night

"There was just enough alchohol on the leaves to make them slipery."
-Colorful words by John Magnusen

Night ride in the drizzle of not so constant rain, at Norris.

Concord Park

Rocking the Boat

Knoxille Brewer's Jam
Deafened and enlightened; and still reeling from the Melvins and the barrel-aged beers sampled in ample amount at the brewers party; I grabbed my bike and headed back downtown on what was becoming one of the most beautiful days of the year! I arrived at the World’s Fair Park early enough to claim my volunteer pass and offer my services as a laborer. However, there really wasn't much that I could do, since all the booths were well manned. I was able to surf the field of dreams until my wife showed up, and we met up with Eric and his wife.
Seems like at about 4 or 5pm the crowd had gotten livelier and the scene was reminiscing of the first Saturday in May, at Churchill Downs. The Derby-like atmosphere of the infield celebrated a blue-sky day, without the anticipation of the two-minute thorobred grudge-match. Flowing libations ran unfettered, and the tasty beers plastered smiles across the exuberant crowd of the Knoxville's Brewers Jam.

Loose your Hearing and Gain Perspective.

There's always the Wednesday weenie ride

the aftermath of a night at Haw Ridge

The car was on blocks, but we were already where we want

Hamilton Creek; Nashville, TN

DSF TFL

Jeff Murray gave me his race # for Tobacco Free-Ride, at Dupont State Forest. I rode the 27 mile course in 2:20 after starting in the back of the pack and busting through the bottle-neck. Then spent the rest of the weekend in Shangri-la, aka Pisgah Forest.
After the Dupont Free-Ride, I set up camp in the White Pines camp sites, which was also base camp for the Double Dare race which started at high noon. Shawn McCann and Chris Ivory battled it out until 10:00 that night, while I climbed to the top of Black Mountain to enjoy the view and then the long downhill back to camp.
Sunday morning was cold as hell. 37 degrees. I decided to drive into town to get some coffee and warm up. After making breakfast quesadillas, I gathered my gear and headed back up Black Mountain and continued on across the peaks to Avery Creek. I made it back to camp after the LONG descent with a crooked smile that could use a beer. So I sat in the sun with the cool breeze flowing, and enjoyed life with a grin and a beer. And made another quesadilla.
Not much of a story I guess. But the real story is the lack of a story. It was nice to be able to harvest the ride, when the weather was right and the week was just about too long.