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Sea Otter 2008
Day Two
Genghis Kahn Video
Intro Day One
Choose Life Video

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Tara Llanes:
Determined to Recover
Finding your Green Self


New Feature:
Map your Rides!


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Cross Nationals
45 Minutes
Win or Lose
Gale Force Cross
Elements of Cross


Photos
Videos


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Got Pink?
Speaking With:
Magnus Bäckstedt
Wounded Warrior Project:
Phoenix to Vegas
Grow Your Own Bike?
Young Mechanics
Speaking with:
Shonny Vanlandingham
Stories From the Road:
The Spinning Stars


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Interbike
Faces on the Mountain
Cross Vegas
The Showroom Floor
A Cycling Shambhala
BMC FourStroke 03
Rock & Roll Lives at Defeet
Demo Days
WTB MX Prowler Review
Interbike 2007 Intro


Photos
Videos


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Junior Development
Voices:
Benny and Christian Zenga

Green Choices
On the Soldier Ride
The Jury is Still out...



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Pedros
Faces of Pedros
Lea Davison Teaches
Kids to MTB

Women's Skills by
Alison Dunlap

Coming alive
Going Green



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Voices: Reginald Harkema
Bike The World: New York
Team Trips For Kids
The Ironclad Triathlon
The Ride of Silence
Ladies Night at R-A-B
Bike the World
Bike Polo
Get Your Friends to Ride!



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Sea Otter
Grand Theft Velo
In the Heart and Mind
of the Beast

It's All About the Wheels
A sense of Paradox
Sea Otter: Super D
What is Sea Otter?



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Which Holiday Treat
Are You?

Raisin a Comeback
Marilyn Price:
Making Trips for Kids




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2006 CX Nationals Sidelines
2006 CX Nationals Day 2
2006 CX Nationals Day I
2006 CX Nationals Intro



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Warmth Recaptured
The Road Ahead
On The Well Worn Path
Fireflies in the
Garden of Gray

A Ride With the Cannibal
Hoop Talk



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Interbike '06
Grande Finale
Innocence Lost
Outdoor Demo
and Hangover Ride

Interbike 2006 Intro



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24 Hours of Willamette
Twilight at the Velodrome



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Pedros Fest '06
The Faces of Pedros
Not-so Still of the Night
The Bold and The Vulgar
Trailing Off
Stickers, Glue, Ribbons,
Markers

Good Times in the Sky
Downhiller Hunting at Jiminy
Pedros Fest Intro 2006



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Heart Rate Monitor
Mt. Hamilton
Critical Mass
The Mountain of the Devil
Fighting for the Finish
Hey Watch Your Feet!
Special Film Pull-out
Bicycle Film Festival
Tour du Parc
The Five Boro Bike Tour
VOICES: Peter Sutherland
VOICES: Brendt Barbur
VOICES: Jacob Septimus
Stillwell Interpretive Trail
Resurrecting the Vanderbilt
Motor Parkway

Kicking it up a Notch
Bicycle Film Festival Intro
The Fat Tire Classic
The Road to Zamora
Edison, NJ Show
Carlisle, PA Show
Bike Show Intro
SLIME Torture Test
Step Away from the Lube
Energy Crisis
CX Camp for Juniors
Gear Guide: 2006
Inside the CX Nationals
Road to Nowhere
Take it Hard, Take it Easy
Liberty Mutual Cyclocross
Nationals Day Three

Liberty Mutual Cyclocross
Nationals Day Two

Liberty Mutual Cyclocross
Nationals Day One

Liberty Mutual Cyclocross
Nationals Intro

Holiday GIFT GUIDE
The Unbearable Art
of Wrenching

Tasting the Brew
A Crewman's journey
275 Miles for Youth
Letters from the Road
Patterson Pass Insurgence
The Power of Critical Mass



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Travel:



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Interbike '05/ Las Vegas
IB '05: Red Rocks Canyon
IB '05: Indoor Expo
IB '05: Lake Mead
IB '05: Outdoor Demo II
IB '05: Outdoor Demo I
IB '05: Intro



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Pedros Fest '05
Night Moves
Roughin' It!
Words With Tinker Juarez
Pedros' Faces
Jiminy Peak Free Ride
Womens' Skills Clinic
Pedros: Day One
Pedros Intro



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Chicago
Bicyclist Haven?
What's Not to Bike?
Sites @ Night



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West Coast
Cali Travel Intro
Hitting the Wall
Lake Chabot
Tour de Truckee
Ride to Skyline



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Tarmac Tacos
The New York Bike Show
The Deluge Ride
New Jersey Bike Show
Stinging the Rio
Roaring Mouse Race Series
(Spring 2005)

The Agony and Ecstacy
of Icy Rain...

Visions in Saffron
Margo Conover Speaks Out
Repurposing
The Blizzard Ride
PBBC 2005 Season Opener
26 Degrees of Separation
The Abondoned Bike
Bite My Style:
Messenger Fashion




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Death Valley:
Two Cyclists Enter

Car-Free: Kara
Car-Free: Max
And the Winner is...
Halloween in Gotham
Battling El Diablo
Interbike: The Event
Interbike: Intro
Cape May,
A Cyclist's Dream

A d'Liteful Adventure
Catching up with
the Catskill Wheelmen

BTC Daily 2004
Crashpads:
Crash and Burn?

IBEX MTB Trail [Series]
Prelude to a Champion
Rudy Project: Part Deux
Take Time to Appreciate
Stretching for a Fit Body
A Soggy 5 Island Tour
Incident Report
The Pump Showdown
Manhattan Greenway
Burley D'Lite Pre-Review
Bike Rodeo
When Polar Bears Attack
Almighty Leap Ride
Essential Cycling Toolkit
Training up! [The Series]
Selle Italia/Cannondale Ride
Wanna do a charity ride?
PBBC 2003 Season Opener
Rudy Project Eval Ride
Fixing Flats On the Go!
The Ride Dine 9.13.03
Road Riding Safety
Winter Riding Safety
Cycles Le Femme Jerseys
Helmets and Safety

Some would think that when you have a wife, a child, a mortgage and an expensive bike racing habit, that losing your job would be a bad thing... Since I had the good fortune to be laid off several weeks ago, my plan for the coming months was to ride my bike and grow my beard. You say, "Larry, that seems like the anti-strategy? What gives?"

After nearly a year of anticipating my demise, watching my company change and reorganize in such a fashion that there would be no room left for my position, I am left with bigger demons than I have ever faced before. Demons that make Mount Tamalpais appear no more than a mole hill. Demons that will require my dealing with them before I can regroup. I am just an ordinary, American man. I eat, I sleep, and I pull on my bib tights one leg at a time. I face the same challenges that too many others are facing.

I know a bright future looms ahead if I know where to look

Time has passed since that fateful, life altering day. The beard has come in nicely. The riding, along with various other to-do's hasn't fared so well. Sometimes it becomes difficult to find that everyday motivation when forced to fight the perceived foe that waits outside your door. But bike racing has taught me to overcome pain, misfortune and long challenging ascents, either corporealized or metaphorical.

Wispy singletrack cuts its way down the side of the mountain. Surrounded by green, a wry smile draws its way across my face.

With the exception of sporadic epic rides, my West Coast reports had been lagging. Then, one day, my phone rang, I was greeted by the "The Man's" whip cracking, Dan the man that is. At the prodding of my East Coast editor and compatriot I decided that my time off the bike needed to come to a long overdue end. Looking out the window at the dark clouds that had been dumping rain for the past two days, and having just finished off meatloaf and mashed potato leftovers from Thanksgiving, I realized that I must answer my editor's call and go for a ride.

careening out of control, carving a line finding a way...

Gearing up, I took the mountain bike down from the hooks in the garage, slipped into my ever-so-snug racing kit, pumped the tires and headed out for a two hour loop around pastoral Lake Chabot. Just a quarter of a mile from my front door, the park offers a scenic wilderness escape. In my case, it was an escape from eating and sitting in front of the computer all day, pondering my unemployment. Lake Chabot is a challenging ride of varied terrain with some very technical down hills and strenuous climbs.

I cruise along the lake as dusk rolls in, I roll home

The ride started with an easy paced climb to the trail head to warm up the legs. At the trail head the fun began with a screaming descent on a fire road which leads onto a twisty single track. On this damp Monday afternoon there was no one else on the trails and having the park to myself was an extra treat. Fragrant eucalyptus and bay trees filled the air as I entered my zone and started the first extended climb of the day. After approximately a thousand plus feet of climbing, I hopped off the bike and took a few photos of the peaceful, serene lake below.

Continuing on the dirt, the path was as slick as ice from the recent rains. The tires bogged down with mud and traction was hard to come by. Reaching the crest I readied myself for a fast, almost vertical at times, descent. Trying to keep my nerve, since at any moment the bike could slide right out from under me on the slick mud, I picked up speed while globs of mud ricocheted off my face thrown up from the tires.

the sweat of a hard climb and the burn of muscle memory is all it took.

Reaching the bottom, I let out a yell as the rush subsided and the adrenalin flushed away. A glaze of perspiration coated my skin, as I stood for a moment of rest. I noticed the return of the dark clouds which meant it was time to make my way back home to shoot my story off to the East Coast and Pedal Pushers Online's readership, so that they could share in my escape.

Rounding that last bend which put me on the paved trail back to the road, I asked myself, "Why did I wait so long to get back on the bike and ride?" The elation of riding returned and the feeling of getting out from in front of the computer was pure joy. Once again, for the first time since that pink slip landed in my hand, I felt alive. So much so that I have another ride planned.

Some would think that when you have a wife, a child, a mortgage and an expensive bike racing habit, that losing your job would be a bad thing... Since I had the good fortune to be laid off several weeks ago, my plan for the coming months was to ride my bike and grow my beard. You say, "Larry, that seems like the anti-strategy? What gives?"

After nearly a year of anticipating my demise, watching my company change and reorganize in such a fashion that there would be no room left for my position, I am left with bigger demons than I have ever faced before. Demons that make Mount Tamalpais appear no more than a mole hill. Demons that will require my dealing with them before I can regroup. I am just an ordinary, American man. I eat, I sleep, and I pull on my bib tights one leg at a time. I face the same challenges that too many others are facing.

I know a bright future looms ahead if I know where to look

Time has passed since that fateful, life altering day. The beard has come in nicely. The riding, along with various other to-do's hasn't fared so well. Sometimes it becomes difficult to find that everyday motivation when forced to fight the perceived foe that waits outside your door. But bike racing has taught me to overcome pain, misfortune and long challenging ascents, either corporealized or metaphorical.

Wispy singletrack cuts its way down the side of the mountain. Surrounded by green, a wry smile draws its way across my face.

With the exception of sporadic epic rides, my West Coast reports had been lagging. Then, one day, my phone rang, I was greeted by the "The Man's" whip cracking, Dan the man that is. At the prodding of my East Coast editor and compatriot I decided that my time off the bike needed to come to a long overdue end. Looking out the window at the dark clouds that had been dumping rain for the past two days, and having just finished off meatloaf and mashed potato leftovers from Thanksgiving, I realized that I must answer my editor's call and go for a ride.

careening out of control, carving a line finding a way...

Gearing up, I took the mountain bike down from the hooks in the garage, slipped into my ever-so-snug racing kit, pumped the tires and headed out for a two hour loop around pastoral Lake Chabot. Just a quarter of a mile from my front door, the park offers a scenic wilderness escape. In my case, it was an escape from eating and sitting in front of the computer all day, pondering my unemployment. Lake Chabot is a challenging ride of varied terrain with some very technical down hills and strenuous climbs.

I cruise along the lake as dusk rolls in, I roll home

The ride started with an easy paced climb to the trail head to warm up the legs. At the trail head the fun began with a screaming descent on a fire road which leads onto a twisty single track. On this damp Monday afternoon there was no one else on the trails and having the park to myself was an extra treat. Fragrant eucalyptus and bay trees filled the air as I entered my zone and started the first extended climb of the day. After approximately a thousand plus feet of climbing, I hopped off the bike and took a few photos of the peaceful, serene lake below.

Continuing on the dirt, the path was as slick as ice from the recent rains. The tires bogged down with mud and traction was hard to come by. Reaching the crest I readied myself for a fast, almost vertical at times, descent. Trying to keep my nerve, since at any moment the bike could slide right out from under me on the slick mud, I picked up speed while globs of mud ricocheted off my face thrown up from the tires.

the sweat of a hard climb and the burn of muscle memory is all it took.

Reaching the bottom, I let out a yell as the rush subsided and the adrenalin flushed away. A glaze of perspiration coated my skin, as I stood for a moment of rest. I noticed the return of the dark clouds which meant it was time to make my way back home to shoot my story off to the East Coast and Pedal Pushers Online's readership, so that they could share in my escape.

Rounding that last bend which put me on the paved trail back to the road, I asked myself, "Why did I wait so long to get back on the bike and ride?" The elation of riding returned and the feeling of getting out from in front of the computer was pure joy. Once again, for the first time since that pink slip landed in my hand, I felt alive. So much so that I have another ride planned.

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