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rule Archived Articles:
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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
Bike for SCORES, a charity ride to help children

40 miles per hour downhill, orangey brown leaves that have blown down off the early Autumn trees stick to my tire and slap against the frame of my roadie as they fling free of the wheel and the road. The skies are pitch black from cloud cover and they open up with an unimaginable rainfall so heavy that I feel as though I may drown in rivulets that flood my skin, inseparable from my own salty precipitation. My breathing is labored, I have just climbed a long steep summit and am now rocketing down the other side, catching my breath and angling my wheel gently into the turns as not to cause a skid on the beautiful yet slippery felled leaves that cake the asphalt. How did I get here? Let me back track a few hours...

leaves and water on the roadway

BUZZ... BUZZ... BUZZ... The alarm goes off, it is 5am. My autopilot kicks in and gets me clothed and ready. I look out the door of my hotel room. The roadway is flooded with 3 inches of water, the rain falls from the sky in a torrent as if the sky were one large waterfall this early morning. At the base of it lies the quiet town of Perryville, MD. from which this ride will commence. I think to myself, "There is no way they're going to have us ride out in this". Just then an excited crew member walks up and states, "Breakfast is ready in the lounge area, better eat up, you're going to need it for today's ride"

I wheel my bag off to the gear truck and stroll into breakfast. There are many riders there already, preparing oatmeal and bagels, carbing up for a long day of spinning. Everyone is cheerful and excited to ride. Fast forward a few hours... or is it days?

To persevere and not submit to the weather's assault, I must dig deeply so that the elements can not touch my inner self. Because this is where I must live for three days, the ride blurs together in a fog of memories as dense as the blurred vision through my water soaked eyes. It will become a conglomerate of unique and memorable moments, flotsam and jetsam following the tide...

Joel focuses on riding in the rain

...I am following black arrows on yellow road markings that I can see only vaguely. They steer the way for me to get from point to point... give me warnings for steep climbs, turns and hazards. I am riding behind a tall, lanky rider, mounted on a bike with long tubes and equipped with aerobars. He is wearing a bright yellow rain poncho. It slaps and crackles as the wind whips at its excess material. Water and grime stream off of his wheel in a fantail. We trade off who is in front and back. Many miles wash away. We are silent, the wet peeling sound of the wheel's revolution as it comes off the road is the only break in the viscous silence.

Chris smiles while rides past scenic fields

...The cut of her calves and her lean muscular form speaks to the belief that this isn't her first bike ride. She smiles as I pass - she bubbles with youth and vitality. Later in the day I am weary. I have been riding alone for many miles... The cold has robbed me of energy and the snap in my muscles... my legs are cramping miserably... She rides up to me, her pace is strong - I fall in behind. Her vigor and resolve tow me up the hills for fifteen... perhaps, twenty miles... Over the course of these miles she jokes, sings and names the hills, even though I am in agony, I am still enjoying the ride. Her energy infuses in me and propels me over each new hill... she does not realize her gift to me... I cherish it.

Bob rides on in day two

...A smile carves its way across my face, for the first time in thirty-six hours, the rain has stopped long enough for me to take deep breaths. My nostrils taste the sweet oaky country air. Ever since lunch, where I squeezed in next to a few blokes to share the heat of a crackling campfire, I have been traveling through the back roads of Pennsylvania with Bob. Bob is a pleasant, kind natured gentleman whose son talked him into doing this ride at his retirement party. He was also my roomie the first night of this adventure and by the end of the day we'll have ridden around 50 miles together. He atop his Ciocc and me astride my Raleigh. We both admire Day Two's scenery which happens to be the best of the three days.

a stream with a shale bed

Crayola colored leaves, rushing streams with shale beds, gorgeous fields that stretch as far as the eye can see, deer and other wildlife and of course hills that climb forever, all these become the backdrop for our ride in to the finish of Day Two...

Corn fields are a back drop for miles and miles of riding in Bucks County

...I come to another rider who labors to climb a steep hill. I look at her gearing from behind, she has lower gears to shift to. Yet, she doesn't downshift. She's new to cycling and possibly doesn't know that she's wearing herself out by not using the mechanical advantage of the gears. I suggest shifting to a larger cog on the back. She explains that she is saving the last few gears in case the hill gets steeper. I explain that she is hurting herself in the long run by working too hard on less steep hills. She shifts down and spins easily up the hill like a swan gliding on the surface of a lake. At dinner she stops by to thank me for the advice, saying that she feels much better after shifting more during today's ride...

All of us huddle together in our Victory shirts. We have crossed 5 states, close to 275 miles and we've ridden over the George Washington Bridge into Manhattan together. We've all become friends and we chat about the three days past. It's time to roll out for the final ride together. We'll be cruising through NYC with motorcycle escorts closing streets as we pass through. Our final destination is the soccer field where "our kids" play and learn. They know we've done this all for them. So, when we ride up onto the field, the children scream and cheer. They put their hands out to shake our's and high-five us as we pass them for the lap that will take us around the soccer field. I am filled with a sense of accomplishment. Accomplishment that is vastly different from that which follows the "usual" long ride...

For more information about this ride:
Visit: www.bikeforscores.org

Sam is a teacher who rode the ride to support the cause.
Bike for SCORES, a charity ride to help children

40 miles per hour downhill, orangey brown leaves that have blown down off the early Autumn trees stick to my tire and slap against the frame of my roadie as they fling free of the wheel and the road. The skies are pitch black from cloud cover and they open up with an unimaginable rainfall so heavy that I feel as though I may drown in rivulets that flood my skin, inseparable from my own salty precipitation. My breathing is labored, I have just climbed a long steep summit and am now rocketing down the other side, catching my breath and angling my wheel gently into the turns as not to cause a skid on the beautiful yet slippery felled leaves that cake the asphalt. How did I get here? Let me back track a few hours...

leaves and water on the roadway

BUZZ... BUZZ... BUZZ... The alarm goes off, it is 5am. My autopilot kicks in and gets me clothed and ready. I look out the door of my hotel room. The roadway is flooded with 3 inches of water, the rain falls from the sky in a torrent as if the sky were one large waterfall this early morning. At the base of it lies the quiet town of Perryville, MD. from which this ride will commence. I think to myself, "There is no way they're going to have us ride out in this". Just then an excited crew member walks up and states, "Breakfast is ready in the lounge area, better eat up, you're going to need it for today's ride"

I wheel my bag off to the gear truck and stroll into breakfast. There are many riders there already, preparing oatmeal and bagels, carbing up for a long day of spinning. Everyone is cheerful and excited to ride. Fast forward a few hours... or is it days?

To persevere and not submit to the weather's assault, I must dig deeply so that the elements can not touch my inner self. Because this is where I must live for three days, the ride blurs together in a fog of memories as dense as the blurred vision through my water soaked eyes. It will become a conglomerate of unique and memorable moments, flotsam and jetsam following the tide...

Joel focuses on riding in the rain

...I am following black arrows on yellow road markings that I can see only vaguely. They steer the way for me to get from point to point... give me warnings for steep climbs, turns and hazards. I am riding behind a tall, lanky rider, mounted on a bike with long tubes and equipped with aerobars. He is wearing a bright yellow rain poncho. It slaps and crackles as the wind whips at its excess material. Water and grime stream off of his wheel in a fantail. We trade off who is in front and back. Many miles wash away. We are silent, the wet peeling sound of the wheel's revolution as it comes off the road is the only break in the viscous silence.

Chris smiles while rides past scenic fields

...The cut of her calves and her lean muscular form speaks to the belief that this isn't her first bike ride. She smiles as I pass - she bubbles with youth and vitality. Later in the day I am weary. I have been riding alone for many miles... The cold has robbed me of energy and the snap in my muscles... my legs are cramping miserably... She rides up to me, her pace is strong - I fall in behind. Her vigor and resolve tow me up the hills for fifteen... perhaps, twenty miles... Over the course of these miles she jokes, sings and names the hills, even though I am in agony, I am still enjoying the ride. Her energy infuses in me and propels me over each new hill... she does not realize her gift to me... I cherish it.

Bob rides on in day two

...A smile carves its way across my face, for the first time in thirty-six hours, the rain has stopped long enough for me to take deep breaths. My nostrils taste the sweet oaky country air. Ever since lunch, where I squeezed in next to a few blokes to share the heat of a crackling campfire, I have been traveling through the back roads of Pennsylvania with Bob. Bob is a pleasant, kind natured gentleman whose son talked him into doing this ride at his retirement party. He was also my roomie the first night of this adventure and by the end of the day we'll have ridden around 50 miles together. He atop his Ciocc and me astride my Raleigh. We both admire Day Two's scenery which happens to be the best of the three days.

a stream with a shale bed

Crayola colored leaves, rushing streams with shale beds, gorgeous fields that stretch as far as the eye can see, deer and other wildlife and of course hills that climb forever, all these become the backdrop for our ride in to the finish of Day Two...

Corn fields are a back drop for miles and miles of riding in Bucks County

...I come to another rider who labors to climb a steep hill. I look at her gearing from behind, she has lower gears to shift to. Yet, she doesn't downshift. She's new to cycling and possibly doesn't know that she's wearing herself out by not using the mechanical advantage of the gears. I suggest shifting to a larger cog on the back. She explains that she is saving the last few gears in case the hill gets steeper. I explain that she is hurting herself in the long run by working too hard on less steep hills. She shifts down and spins easily up the hill like a swan gliding on the surface of a lake. At dinner she stops by to thank me for the advice, saying that she feels much better after shifting more during today's ride...

All of us huddle together in our Victory shirts. We have crossed 5 states, close to 275 miles and we've ridden over the George Washington Bridge into Manhattan together. We've all become friends and we chat about the three days past. It's time to roll out for the final ride together. We'll be cruising through NYC with motorcycle escorts closing streets as we pass through. Our final destination is the soccer field where "our kids" play and learn. They know we've done this all for them. So, when we ride up onto the field, the children scream and cheer. They put their hands out to shake our's and high-five us as we pass them for the lap that will take us around the soccer field. I am filled with a sense of accomplishment. Accomplishment that is vastly different from that which follows the "usual" long ride...

For more information about this ride:
Visit: www.bikeforscores.org

Sam is a teacher who rode the ride to support the cause.
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