Forty Days and Forty Nights

Forty Days and Forty Nights
By Audrey Adler

It was the winter of 1998. Los Angeles.

I had just completed my first series of triathlons the previous summer and eagerly anticipated an off season filled with outdoor training opportunities, sowing the seeds of fitness for the spring season’s new and improved personal best. Winter in LA, you must visualize, meant that a light wind jacket and arm warmers may be necessary for the first hour of an early morning ride! To every outdoor athlete’s chagrin (by the way, in Los Angeles, anyone with two legs and a pair of Air Max is an "athlete") predictions of the terroristic storm El NINO' promised to keep all at bay out of the thrashing angry open waters, off the flooded and avalanched coastal stretches of breathtaking infinite Highway 1, out of the sinuous bowels of the Santa Monica Mountains' single track. Reduced to pumping iron in the acrid arena we call a gym, and lounging around the fireplace darning those not-yet-ready-to-trash cycling socks, I relented to the omnipotent forces of Mother Nature.

As the rains continued mercilessly to inundate our thatched-roofed metropolis, I visited the gym daily to teach my regimen of indoor cycling classes to loud, yet meaningful and inspiring music. At least, I rationalized, I was spinning my legs, virtually recreating and sharing the climbs of the real world roads I knew so intimately. Sitting at the helm of the class on my spinning bike rhetorically repeating the mantra of my mentor and friend CK, "the music is the road," I would stare out of the huge plate glass window at the gray sky, wondering where all of that rain had been stored for five long, dry years. Turning my legs over laboriously against a self imposed mountain, sweating profusely, wondering where I was really going in an existential way, Tina Turner suddenly belted out, "I can't stand the rain".

It was at that moment I believe that it happened.

I experienced my first attack of cardio-pulmonary claustrophobia. I HAD to get out. I needed to feel the dirt in my bronchioles, the tingle of blood pumping through my enlarged veins as I bolt down the side of a mountain, my heart pounding with the rush of fear and fortitude.

I rang up my buddy CK, a seasoned off-roader quite undaunted by less than optimal road conditions. "Let's do an off road ride this weekend." I could not spend another minute indoors. "Meet me at Malibu Creek State Park", he said.

"What if it rains?" I panicked. "Don't worry, Eagle," he reassured me.

Sunday. 7:30 a.m. Malibu Creek State Park. No rain. Naturally. Huge open sun drenched skies filled with trees, streams, bridges, stone pathways, rolling green hills and an occasional house tucked way into the side of a mountain.

Trails abound. The temperature is moderate outside. I am in heaven for sure. We mount our bicycles and begin our epic adventure. A dirt trail leads us through the woods out to a clearing. We stop in our tracks. Ahead, the “trail” was nothing but a water-filled ravine. We continue. Wading blindly through obliterated trails of freezing, frenzied, waist deep murky waters, treacherously weaving each step through the unknown depths of the boulder-strewn river bed, our bikes in tow dangling precariously on our backs hung at the mercy of our stiffening phalanges and searing deltoids, we revert to our origins.

Earth, Dust, Water.

As we emerge up onto the slip and rock of the hillside, legs numb with cold, we mount our bikes and climb through a never-ending potpourri of ankle deep black mud, newly arranged rock beds, wild brush and virgin weeds. The air, scented heavily of that unique musk ensuing a heavy rain seems a comfort. Hours have passed.

My strong, steady legs reassure my body that the still long and difficult journey ahead will be a rewarding one. As we climb endless miles up the mountainside I struggle to relax and gracefully balance my bicycle over the enormous random rock piles which pattern the trail. Momentum. My heart beats thriftily inside my chest, patterning a strong syncopated rhythm to the cadence of my pedals. My lungs generously cycle the flow of oxygen and carbon dioxide renewing each muscle with the promise of redemption.

And so it goes. On and on,,,,

I am redeemed.


Photos of the author and CK taken on a much warmer and drier day a few years later, on or near the Whoopdedoo Trail and the Nike Tower above Brentwood in the Santa Monica Mountains

In Search of Epic

In Search of Epic
By Chris Kostman

A Rough Rider is a cyclist in search of an epic experience.

"Epic" is defined as "heroic; majestic; impressively great" and "of unusually great size or extent."

What does it mean for a ride to be epic? Here are some thoughts on the subject:

First and foremost, an epic ride is one that is a memorable adventure, literally. It may result from one or more of the following factors:

- Distance: The longer the ride, the more "out there" it will likely become. But words like "far" and "ultra" are relative to one's experience and training level.

- Difficulty: The more difficult the ride, the more likely it will be memorable. "Difficult" is also relative; if it's difficult for you, it's difficult. There's no magic cut-off, distance-wise, or in terms of elevation gain, or anything else.

- Weather, especially Unexpected Weather: Rain, wind, snow, hail, sandstorms, heat, and many other things we often call "weather" can turn "an ordinary ride" into an EPIC RIDE. Or sometimes we go in search of intense weather, like cycling in the dead of winter or across a desert in summer, or when tempting fate during monsoon season.

- Mechanicals / Breakdowns: Cycling is about the body-bike interface. When the bike breaks down, so can the whole system and pretty soon we're no longer a cyclist, but a bike-pusher or hiker instead. But more often that not, mechanicals don't completely disable the bike, they just make it a whole lot harder to ride.

- Riding Somewhere New, especially Unplanned: "Hey, I wonder where that road - or trail - goes?" can be The Seven Magic Words just before an ordinary rides turns epic!

- Getting Lost: See point immediately above. It's a closely related subject.

- Running out of Food and/or Water: There's nothing like the bonk, or a good thirst, to make things interesting.

- Encountering the Unusual: Crossing paths with deer, giant turkeys, bobcats, or millions of grasshoppers, to name just a few examples of the animal variety.

- Racing the Sunset: Running out of light, when you don't have your own lights on the bike, can be simultaneously exhilarating and frightening. No matter how tired you become, at the end (or near the end) of an epic ride, the adrenaline usually kicks in when the sun is nearing set and there are still miles to be ridden.

- Road / Trail Surface: If smooth, beautiful pavement were the only good place to ride, we should just all ride velodromes! Mix it up.

- Using the "Wrong Bike" for the Ride: This is a topic, and concept, which is near and dear to us and which inspires our slogan "Any Bike, Anywhere." We love to pedal, and we love to anywhere we possibly can (or can't).

- Unlikely Routes: Another favorite MO around here is to link roads and regions together with trails and other connectors that most people wouldn't think of. The end result is a one-of-a-kind route, a tour of disparate regions, and a ride that is perhaps 10-30% dirt and the rest paved. Nickname: "World biking."

Rough Riders aspire to be prepared and ready for any circumstance, but when they're not, they get the ride done, while reveling in the opportunity to have new experiences, to explore the inner and outer universes, and to learn new things about the world, about the sport of cycling, and about themselves.

What defines EPIC for you?

Click "Comment" below and share your story!

Rough Riders Jersey! Order Yours Today!

You saw it here first! Here is the design for the new ROUGH RIDERS jersey. Click the image above to see it bigger. The jerseys will be made by Hincapie and they will also be available to pre-order when signing up for the Death Valley Century and Double Century, as well as for Furnace Creek 508.

We also have a mail-in order form here. Download it now and send it in to insure that you get one! The jerseys will be available in October, either to pick up at one of the events, or we can mail them to you. They must be ordered by June 2. Thanks for your enthusiasm!
Click here to see all the new 2008 gear!

Wholistic Cycling: An Off-Road Primer

Wholistic Cycling: An Off-Road Primer
By Chris Kostman

A wholistic approach to cycling rediscovers, encourages, and authenticates the universal nature of outdoor performance skills. Tear away the veil of sports specificity and the wholistic athlete is catapulted into a transcendent, transformative, and transpersonal athletic experience. In this realm, the wholistic seeker appreciates and uses the skills learned (or relearned) in one sport to enhance athletic expression in other sporting arenas. Call it cross-training at an elevated level. Thus cycling lends itself to snowshoeing and to scuba diving, and vice-versa.

This is not, however, a consciously directed methodology. In the wholistic state of being, barriers fall away naturally and higher potential is realized. From there, it is but one more step to fully integrate these skills into the arena of daily life. The proverbial journey of a thousand miles begins with but a single step. Catalyzing the journey to wholistic training begins with but a shift of perspective and energy.

Here are a few wholistic performance tips for superior off-road cycling:

Run or hike the trails you ride or race. You'll learn things about terrain and trail conditions that you just can't see at biking pace.

Look far ahead to where you want to go. Where you look is where you'll go. Look at a big rock or log in your path and you'll hit it. Apply the rule to life in general; look ahead of, instead of at, the obstacles to your goals.

Realize that there really is a single best "line" on any trail. Your goal is to find and ride that line and leave it unscathed in so doing.

Play follow the leader while riding with a friend or in a race. Assume that if the rider in front of you can do something, no matter how hairy or scary, then you can do it as well. Likewise, if you're leading down a tricky or fast section, assume that you will be run over by the following cyclist if you blow it at any given point.

Move with the bike or move the bike, but don't let the bike move you any more than necessary. Be a trapeze artist or a bike-bound ballerina.

Move around on your bike, especially on the saddle. Slide way back, slide way forward, and everywhere in between. This will change your muscle group usage, provide mini recoveries, and effectively give you added strength and speed on flats and while climbing. Many cyclists routinely slide way back on the saddle, but how many get way out on the tip of the saddle? You're missing something if you don't.

Be one with your bike, like an equestrian with a horse. Let this unity with your steed extend to the earth beneath it. Work and proact with the landscape, not against it and not in a state of reaction.

Conserve your energy. Don't tighten even one muscle or body part that needn't be tightened. Waste not, want not.

Recover your energy. Every time you can get your heart rate back down, you're recovering. Use downhills and flats to recover for the next tough section. Interval training will coach your heart to drop its rate more immediately after a high intensity effort, allowing you to recover sooner and more often. Never waste a chance to recover, however briefly.

Conserve your momentum. More so than power, it will get you through most any tight spot. Never lose your momentum, not just on the bike but also when pursuing your daily life goals.

Use your gears! Anticipate your need to shift to a harder or easier gear. Don't let your cadence bog down even once. Don't "save" a gear; use it as soon as you need it. When you crest a hill, pedal all the way over the true crest, then slam it into a taller gear and head for the downhill at maximum speed. Once you've spun out, rest.

Train with less technology. Race with more technology. Getting used to race pace with skinnier tyres or sans-suspension will make you an even better rider once you haul out the competitive arsenal.

Originally published in Fitness Magazine, Sweden, April 1999

Any Bike, Anywhere

L-R: Harry Winand, Gene Oberpriller, John Stamstad, Chris Kostman at the 24 Hours of Canaan
with our Bridgestone XO-1 bikes: neither road bike, nor mountain bikes. Rough Stuff bikes!

Any Bike, Anywhere
By Chris Kostman

Bikes are the ultimate freedom tools: they let you go to more places, more easily, and more simply than any other human invention. But in today’s era of high technology and equipment specialization, they can also seem incredibly limiting. In fact, it’s a common misconception that without the "right bike," one simply cannot partake in the wonderful landscape of cycling opportunities. It’s time to set the record straight, though, for any bike can be taken anywhere!

This really isn’t some secret conspiracy that I am blowing the whistle on here, for cyclists the world round take "the wrong bike into the wrong place." Just ride any century ride and you’ll see innumerable mountain bikes and cross bikes being comfortably and happily put to good use in grinding out the 100 miler. (Heck, mountain bikes have even been ridden successfully in 500 mile road races!) And trails have been ridden for over a century on skinny-tyred bikes, both before and since the inception of the "all-terrain bike." And not only do some of us ride off-pavement with road bikes, but we do it well enough to leave plenty of hi-tech fat tyre bikes in the dust in the process.

How does all this work, you ask? It’s simply a case of the rider riding the bike, not the reverse. In other words, let technology work for you or just don’t use the technology in the first place. Think about it: turning cranks in circles is turning cranks in circles. Whether that translates into covering terrain efficiently is entirely up to the skill and strength of the rider. With time, any rider can learn to ride any bike anywhere. The trick is just getting out there and going for it!

This philosophy can mean different things to different people. First of all, it can mean that you may not really have to shell out the bucks for a new bike because you only have a "road bike" or a "mountain bike." So this can save you a lot of money. But if you already have both types of bikes, then you can hone your skills for either bike by using the "wrong bike" on various rides.

Riding skinny tyres off-pavement will hone your attentiveness, balance, coordination, handling skills, and nerve. Riding fat tyres on-road will build strength, hill climbing ability, and provide a comfy and largely bullet-proof ride. Rides that combine both environments will become a real treat, allowing you to immediately experience the cross-over benefits firsthand.

Yet more reasons exist for taking any bike anywhere… Your potential riding world will become exponentially bigger and more diverse every time you venture out, for you’ll stop differentiating between road rides and trail rides. Thus your new approach to the sport will yield innumerable new adventures and exciting outdoor opportunities. This will translate into a more energetic and purposeful lifestyle that seeks to find and follow the path, no matter how seemingly arduous, that leads to your chosen destination. You’ll learn not to be swayed and diverted by what others think or do, but will stick to your guns, whatever they may be. Your bike will become not only a fitness tool, but a vehicle for self-empowerment!

Streetify Your ATB

If you want to ride your "all-terrain bike" predominantly on the pavement, then some roadifying modifications might be in order:

Narrow, hi pressure tyes: Specialized ATB/S 1" or Fat Boy 1.25", Avocet Tri-Cross 1.25", or Ritchey Cross Bite 1.1".

Taller Gearing: tighter spaced cogset, such as an 11-24, and/or bigger chainrings, such as 36-42-54.

Multi-position handlebars and/or an aero clip-on handlebar.

Really trick modifications include lighter, more aerodynamic wheels and clipless road pedals and shoes.

Trailify Your Road Bike

The degree of modification made to a road bike for trail riding will affect its durability and need of service, as well as the amount of technique you’ll need to invest in it. The basics include:

Bar end shifters to shift from the bars, and maybe a double wrap of tape to add some cushion for your hands.

Slightly wider tyres: 28mm, ideally with some sort of inverted tread, such as the Ritchey Road Force Kevlar.

Slightly lower gearing: low gear of 39x26, for example.

To get more trail-specific, consider:
Knobby tyres up to 35, 38, even 45mm, whatever will fit inside your fork and frame.

Triple crank gearing: low gear of 24x28 perhaps.

Cantilever brakes for maximum stopping power. (This requires adding braze-ons to your frame or the clamp-on Moots Mounts.)

Originally published in City Sports, May 1993, then in the 1994 Bridgestone Cycle USA Catalogue.

Mountain Bikes: Who Needs Them?

Mountain Bikes: Who Needs Them? An Inveterate Roadie Provides a Techno-Backlashian Perspective
By Chris Kostman

I routinely dust every mountain biker I encounter on the trail. And I ride a road bike.

Furthermore, I think, no, I know, the mountain bike is the most over-rated, most improperly used, most over-built, and most greedily promoted piece of hardware to hit the sport and fitness industry in modern history. Ninety-nine percent of the miles ridden by 99% of the mountain bikes could, and should, be ridden on the first and only real all terrain bike, the 'road bike.' More bluntly, a road bike is equal to or better than a mountain bike if ridden with skill like I have.

Blasphemy, you say? Don't think you could possibly ride off pavement without monster knobbies, suspension, enough titanium for an ICBM, and enough gears for at least two whole bikes? Don't be a trained parrot by thinking this and don't let the greedy hawkers control your thoughts and your pocket-book! Simply put, invest in some skills, some style, some finesse, and some balls (girls included), not more over-hyped bike junk.

Read it, learn it, and live it: 'Technique beats technology any time, anywhere.' And that's what I deadpan to every nimwit mountain biker who asks me how I managed to blow him away without tweaking my wheels and cracking my frame.

And before you write in that I'm just some elitist roadie with a penchant for ATB-bashing, let me offer my credentials for having a credo worth splashing across this page: I've raced the Alaskan Iditabike three times and have set solo and tandem 24 Hour off-road cycling records. Off-dirt I've raced the Race Across America twice (9th in '87), two Ironmans, and broken numerous distance records, including San Francisco to Los Angeles. Importantly, I practice what I preach.

And guess what? For 99% of the riding I do off-road, I'll opt for a 'road bike' over a 'mountain bike' any day of the week. And while much of my off-roading is on fire roads (like 99% of you, as you too live in metropolitan areas where single track is banned or non-existent), my dirt rides include gnarly tree roots, sand, gravel, exposed rock slab, insane uphills and downhills, and other 'challenging surface irregularities.' The trick is that I know how to ride and I don't separate myself from the riding surface with a bunch of unnecessary technology.

You see, unlike most cyclists, I can distinguish between 'want' and 'need' when it comes to choosing equipment for my daily training and adventure excursions. I also have a healthy enough ego that I don't need to try to outdo the next guy or gal by having the latest gimmicky bike gear. (Beauty is only skin-deep, but studly goes all the way to the bone.) By the way, I almost never get a flat and I've never needed to true my trusty Wheelsmith wheels.

Here's why you should park your mountain bike at least some of the time and start venturing out on skinny tyres. If you don't have a road bike to do this, then at least install 1.15' or 1.25' slicks or inverted tread tyres and set your derailleurs so you can't use the wimp ring (granny gear) or the cogs bigger than 23 teeth. (By the way, these tyres, along with bar ends and multi-position bars, clipless pedals, not to mention whole ATBs that weigh only 20 to 25 pounds, are all evidence that mountain bikes are techno overkill. These are simply efforts to roadify the mountain bike!)

10 reasons to get skinny in the dirt

1) You'll get used to a little slip and slide under your tyres; then when you hit the pavement or return to the trail with knobbies you'll be astounded by the traction and confidence you suddenly command.

2) You'll be forced to actually pay attention to your line, thus developing better seeing skills and eye-body coordination.

3) This forced attention span will educate you immeasurably about trail surfaces, sands, soils, erosion, even geology, flora, and fauna. In other words, you'll learn to ride with the land, not over it.

4) Your skinny tyres will leave less of an imprint and impact on the trails.

5) You'll marvel at how much faster you can ride on flats, rollers, and most uphills, compared to your full-blown ATB, once you shed all that excess weight, rolling resistance, and weird positioning. I.E., you'll dust the fat tyre 'flyers' like I do all the time.

6) You'll realize that you really can soak up the bumps and dramatically alter your bike's riding characteristics on demand, rather than having your suspension (try to) do it all for you. This is called Body English and it's about time that you really became fluent, rather than only packing a few token phrases like some 'Ugly American' tourist.

7) You'll discover that there's more to the fun factor than seeing how fast you can blast a downhill in a park overflowing with hikers, equestrians, and forest rangers. In so doing, you'll dramatically increase our common survival potential in a world that abhors the mountain bike and all its connotations.

8) Gone will be the days that it's a total drag, literally, to ride to and from the trail head. No longer will you be smoked by the roadies while plodding the pavement, nor will you pollute the ecosphere by driving to the trail head anymore.

9) You'll actually have the nerve to venture down a trail that you discover while out road riding. In fact, you'll quit even thinking of 'road rides' or 'dirt rides.' A ride's a ride and a bike's a bike. It's what you make of them that counts.

10) Finally, you'll learn once and for all that technology is a crutch, not an asset, and that it truly detracts from your life experience on and off the bike.

Here you have it, my friends. Take off the blinders and see the truth in what I have presented to you here. Become great cyclists and develop skills that you won't believe. Then when you do that 1% of your cycling that actually requires a 'real ATB' (say, Slick Rock or Pearl Pass), you'll have the skills to accompany and match all that over-priced technology beneath you.

Get skinny. I dare you!

Sidebar: Customize Your Road Bike

Originally published with "Mountain Bikes: Who Needs Them?" in Bicycle Guide Magazine, February 1993 under the title "Kostmanize Your Road Bike" (That was not MY title; the editor, Roy Wallack, did that, just to get further under the skin of all the mountain bikers. It worked.)

Kostmanize Your Bike

Stock: Ride your stock road bike, exactly as is, off-road. Use minimalist technology and maximal skill for ultimate fun and technique development. I did this for a full year with an Alan Carbonio with Kestrel EMS fork, Aerolite pedals, and Scott Drop-In bars.

Pro-Stock: Slightly modify your road bike with bar end shifters, an extra wrap of bar tape on the drops, clips and straps on regular pedals (remember those?), and 28mm tyres. Your steed will be significantly more functional, both on and off road, and no slower, just like my Bridgestone RB-1.

Super-Stock: Trick out your road bike usefully and increase its durability dramatically by getting Wheelsmith wheels (32 hole is plenty) with Ritchey rims, sealed hubs like Specialized or Ringlé; sealed bottom bracket like Grafton; and an equally service-free headset by Chris King. Utilize sensible technology; eliminate maintenance. Get stuff that's built to last. Own technostuff actually worth drooling for.

All of the above originally published in Bicycle Guide Magazine, February 1993. Photos by Bob Schenker.