mountainbikeRACER.com

October 27, 2000

QUIT YOUR WHINING, JAMAICAN ME CRAZY
by Mark Nickerson

Jamaican National Champion Zerial (Zero) Halyes

Zerial Halyes
Jamaican National Champ

Mark Nickerson
"Fuzzy"

Mark Nickerson is the founder of
A Leg Up For Kids Foundation
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PICTURES
In order to keep my publisher, the honorable Mr. Deputy, out of court; I have decided to adopt vocabulary as per the Southpark movie. So, instead of sh*t I'll say poo. Instead of f*ck I'll use ****, 'cause f*ck is the worst word that you can say so don't say **** , m'kay?

SPRING MOUNTAIN XC
by Jesse Piersol

IF THERE'S CALIFORNICATION IS THERE ALSO DELAWEARINESS?

If so, I get it every year about July. The heat and humidity seem to gang up and send me fleeing to some drier or cooler place. I admit I'm a heat weenie. Can't stands the stuff. Cold is never a problem but hot temperature and stanky, humid air just seem to make my skirt ride up. This summer wasn't so bad but I still had the itch to leave. So when I got a call from Rusty and Zerial who were visiting from Jamaica, it didn't take me long to agree to join up with them for a trip out west. Since Nick and Jonnie had recently moved to Colorado Springs, that seemed like a logical first stop. Rusty and Z were heading eventually to Interbike in Las Vegas so we thought maybe we'd ride a few spots in Colorado then maybe on to Moab before splitting up.
Besides, the memories of me sweating to death in Jamaica last winter were still fresh in my head and I was hoping to find a couple cold rides to pay them back. Fact: Jamaicans are cold blooded, not unlike a snake or toad. So when the temperatures are high they are quite lively and can move quickly but just wait until I get them to cooler climes!

There's a certain excitement generated by packing the van full of bikes and bikegear and pointing its nose west. I mean it's like adventure. I'm not making us out to be pioneers hammering covered wagons across the prairie, but it's not the same old poo, either.
We had a total of seven bikes with us and enough pads and helmets to protect a football team. Rusty and I traded off driving shifts and after about 25 hours we had the front range of the Rockies filling the windshield. Soon we rolled into Nick and Janie's place and cracked open the Guinness. We were set. No worries. What could go wrong?

SKIP TO PAGE

2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

The doc sets up the best surgeon in the area to fix up his leg and he gets waited on hand and foot by some great nurses. And what about me? No fun that's what I'm having. At least Nick says he'll make sure I'll get to ride that run before I leave. Nick promised. Nick's my buddy.
Well, I'll be damned if I'm going to let this story be all about Rusty. Sure, he's going to be off the bike for 6 or 8 weeks but it's not like he makes his living on a bike. Oh wait, yes he does. That's how I met him. Rusty's Excellent Adventures - I remember how he laughed at me last winter when I was dying of the heat in Jamaica and he was taking Alan and I up all the climbs he could find.
Now you're starting to see what kind of friend he is. Well, that's enough about him for awhile. We managed to get about 8 rides in the 10 days we were out there and, in case you ever get the chance to ride there, I'll tell you what to expect.

FUZZY CHECKS OUT DEPUTY'S SCHOOL

     We had been out of the van for an hour or so when we decided it was time for a ride. Across the road from Nick's apt. was a recreation area about the size of Iron Hill (Newark, De) with trails going everywhere.(pics #18, 19, 20, 21, 22) Now we all know that Bill Deputy has some really weird training habits but it also seems to be working for him.
      It seemed like as good of time as any to try one of them so I strategically broke the right crank arm off my single speed and started flopping around one-legged. I don't know about this one, Bill. Sure the uphill is just great but I have to admit I had trouble launching off the rock drops.
      The good news is that it is so much easier to kick dogs and runners off the trails when you have one foot dangling free. I might add that Rusty seemed to delight in my suffering, saying that I didn't look like I was having any fun. Bullpoo, he just doesn't know I'm happiest when my face is purple and you can count my pulse by listening for my veins thumping against the inside of my helmet.
      And just to show you who is more mature I might add that I didn't even laugh when Rusty hit himself in the ribs with his seat. These are the same ribs he injured up in Bromont where he raced in the World Masters Cup. Top 10 XC & DH racer in the world!!! Well, I didn't laugh much.

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Rusty (Coach) Jones
Rusty Jones
Zerial's Coach

THE 24 HOURS OF KANSAS

What could go wrong. How many times have you regretted saying this? As I write this, I'm driving through Kansas on the return leg of the trip. I probably should be holding the wheel but, why bother? It's Kansas. The only time the road turns here is when it runs into something interesting…like another state.
      This is the heartland. I'm reminded of that by how slowly and carefully change is counted out when I stop for food or gas and by the person who thoughtfully spray painted "TRUST JESUS" on every concrete bride support on I-70. Mysterious ways. It's only one state and not the biggest, but somehow the miles click off like calendar pages and it's like riding in fresh wood chips, with a flat. I guess if I only have one hour left to live I hope I'm in Kansas.
      By myself for the first time in two weeks I'm surprised to find I miss my companions. By all rights, Zerial a.k.a. 'domelight', should be snoring in the copilot's chair and a barrage of complaints and insults should be coming from the rear where Rusty should have been enjoying my expert driving. Rusty nicknamed Z domelight for his uncanny ability to be out as soon as the van doors closed.Even though I was alone it was crowded in the van since I had all Rusty's poo with me.
      As I drove the countless hours through Kansas, Rusty was enjoying first class accommodations care of United Airlines and his friend Sheila as he flew back to Cleveland. He seems to have all the luck. I mean take for example our epic ride on Wednesday. We set up a shuttle to the top of Mt Baldy to ride the 14 miles downhill.
      What happens? The fuel pump dies on the van leaving me sitting out the ride while Rusty gets to zip down the trail with some of the best riders I've ever met. Joe (not schmoe) Stanish, pro downhiller, Nick the (quick) prick Riddle, Jonnie (am I sane , yet?) Kane, Zerial (snowball) Hayles and Rusty (lucky charms) Jones.      And talk about luck. Who should be riding up the trail where Rusty's laying with a broken femur, but an orthopedic surgeon on his day off who just happens to ride with a cell phone and a syringe full of morphine?