Winter training in a matter of speaking (the untimely end to my cross season)

So between a combination of nothing of major interest happening, and running around like a decapitated chicken I haven't really been struck with the desire to get back on here.  Alas I have returned, and in one week most everything has changed to some extent.  Last weekend after having my legs absolutely ripped from my body at the ruts and guts cross race in Tulsa, OK I recieved a phone call that solidified my winter plans.  Sunday I will be leaving Arkansas to spend the next four months working as ripperoo, the Keystone resort mascot.  The winter is bound to be full of shredding beutiful snow, but as any good comes with a little bad I may have to do some serious dirtbag practice.  My past climbing skills may have to be revisited to make the first couple weeks work.  No I wont be climbing the chairlift, more the methods I explored when roadying on a budget, there may be a little food scrapping from restaurants.  This should all bring good stories and hopefully some pictures of ripperoo living up to his namesake.

More to come, and to all those down here ride some extra trail over the winter for me.  I am stoked to leave for a bit, but am bummed I'll miss all the sweet winter singletrack and the end of cross season.

Bloggificating things

     So it looks like I am going to try my hand at writing a blog.  First off I would like to appoligize to any english teacher who stumbles upon this as it will more than likely be attrociously written.  We shall see what this turns into, but I am sure it will contain a race story or two.  Mind numbing race reports will hopefully be kept to a minimum, but as I have a tendancy to race like I should be required to wear my helmet even when not on the bike there should be many a story of precautionary origin.  Lets call this Jonathan's guide on how not to race a bike. 
     Now to be as hypocritical as possible, today's cross race put on by the Bike Route was an absolute leg shredder.  The course contained one bitch of a hill, a bit of mud, and plenty of opportunity to make less than great decision.  To get the race goin there was some quality Belgian beer samples at the registration table, yes please pre race carb loading.  Now most people might try to do this the night before, but racing is much more interesting if its left till 30 minutes prior to race time.  After trying to warm up and maybe vanquish my buzz we started and I proceded to ride right off the back.  Three laps in and I have managed to squeeze my way up the field when it occured to me there may be a faster route through the mud pit.  Alas only getting one wheel over the railroad tie and taking an impromptu mud bath doesn't gain you any positions quite the opposite really.  Oh well nothing ventured nothing gained right?  The rest of the race was eventless minus the exquisite burning in everything below my waist.  After fifty minutes of the hardest race I've done in a bit I somehow managed to squeeze my way onto the podium and leave with a little scrilla.

Thanks to any that decide to browse through this, and with any luck I will continue pursuing the unpossible and in failure provide a measure of entertainment.