I just had to do it. The experience at Shriek Grootlo and using their Karcher power washers had me in extacy.

So in the spirit of feeling Belgie, I pulled the trigger on one:

When does cross start again?

I'm home. Really home. It feels great....even the veritable fire hose work had pent up for me that started up Tuesday AM at 6 AM when I got back to it.

Ironically, it felt good.

But now I feel empty. Weird. I want to cross more. I want to hear my name being called out over the loudspeakers in a language that is totally foreign to me. I want to finish up my race and get a beer ticket from those nice people that seem to be at every race and submit the ticket to the even nicer people in the beer tent to drink the brown goodness. I want to stand in the pits with my boots on talking with more and more people about this sport I love.

I want to learn more.

I went out on a ride yesterday on the roadie and found myself up out of the saddle sprinting. Didn't even think about it. I just did it. I've GOT to stop that and start to release and let the body rebound a bit. OK, rebound a LOT.

I miss it already. Worlds this weekend to keep me satiated. Then, I need to think about fat tires. Projects to hold me over like building that 29'er....until its time to dial in the cross bikes. Shit, maybe I'll just dial them in now and just look at them all Spring.

I'm home. I'm happy. I'm longing already.

...you realize that it's a 365 x 24 x 7 sport! (OK, for me it is)

Boulder Cycle Sport and Mud and Cowbells (er...ah, me) would like to invite you to to join us for a little slide show viewing, cyclo-cross talking, friend seeing, beer drinking and most importantly some fund raising for Ben Turner's team green: The CLIF BAR Development Cyclo-Cross Team.

The deets:

What:

• Come hear stories and see pictures from Za Trip: 3 old men go race cyclocross in the Motherland. This is not a film by Sam Smith.
  
• A suggested donation of $5 American Dollars will entirely be donated to the CLIF BAR Development Cyclocross Team and make you feel like a hero.
  
• We're going to attempt to get some raffles together. Stay tuned. Possibly the chamois from Ben's USA Cycling issued skin suit from his World's venture. Mmmm.
  
• Beer will be served and all the cool kids will be there.
  

Why:

• Why in God's good earth do you need justification to come see friends and geek out on cross?
• More Americans need to go to Belgium and duke it out with the best on earth. This is our chance to Jedi Mind Trick you to a) do it yourself and b) help kids do it cause they like, have a future.
  
• We need you to help support our young'ns and help get 'em to races and buy some new Dugasts for 'em.
  
• Beer. Celebrate it. Cross. Celebrate it.
  

When:

• Thursday January 31st
  
• Doors Open at 6:30 PM
  
• 7-8PM Slide show
  
• 8-9 Happy hour!
  

Where:

• The hallowed halls of Boulder Cycle Sport. 4580 North Broadway, Boulder 80304

We hope to see you there, else Dubba and I will have to drink all the beer and recount stories: "Dude, remember that time, when you like slipped in the mud? And you got like, muddy. And your bike got mud on it? Remember? Yeah. That was good."

It's gonna be awesome.

While in Belgium, I was able to finally hook up with the man behind CTodd,TV, Mr. C Todd himself! Great to meet and hang home boy! You can see some videos and read some of his perspectives on the race here.

While I am in the zone, I wanted to get these up for you all to have some look sees at the various daily goings on from our trip. You can always go to my PhotoBucket Site to see originals.

OK, I'll let you in on our secret training. This is how we got utterly amped for our races. Who needs EPO? I used to listen to Rage, but have moved on...

Here's Dubba at Fort 6 Sunday. Ha! Sunday. I can't believe I was racing my bike in Belgium last week. Sweet.

Dubba had a very strong race against heavy contracted hitters at Fort 6.

So there you have it folks. Some vid and stills from Za Trip. I can NOT thank you all for reading and commenting religiously. It made me smile. I think I got my points across about the trip and the impact it had on many levels. I can't wait to hear other people's stories of their trips next year. START PLANNING NOW! That is my only advice. Again, Brandon and I are scheming a slide show at Boulder Cycle Sport for local folks and have some beers and give you some color commentary on the experience. I'll post something in the coming days.

Hole shot. Money. I looked like I crapped myself. I grabbed this from Edwin's site...
The complete set can be found here.....

So check out our boys at Team Raats. These guys are CORE 'crossers from The Netherlands and our boy Edwin (below in light blue) took 3rd in our race on Saturday at Mol. Oh, he wears previous Masters stripes too, kids.

So Edwin and some other Raats guys got our beer on today with us in the pits and shared stories after our race and they are totally looking forward to going to Cross Vegas! Look out Chris G. The Dutch are coming!

Visit their site! I've got them linked too.

Place: Wilrijk, Belgium

As I type these characters, I have a warm flush rushing through my cheeks...partly due to the work today in the mud of Fort 6, part due to the work apres-race cleaning and packing of ALL the equipment for our trip to the airport but a LOT due to the Westvleteren Yellow Cap hitting every friggin happy-nerve synapse in my body. Yes, it is an incredible beer.

My beautiful friends: Za trip. She is done.

I want to write. A lot. At this moment I have so much to tell you my 'crossing brethren but in sum, I can only say: I 'saw' it. You know those album covers or posters made by computer generated imagery...e.g. the ones where if you stare long enough you see Jesus or the Led Zeppelin signs or maybe a fish? Well, it didn't take much proverbial squinting on my part to see what they have here in Belgium. By that I mean how this sport is Belgium and Belgium itself as a society and a culture is lived out each weekend on these muddy pastures. Field riding. Veldrijden. And that is the slightly hazy imagery I started to see come into focus with each and every race, and each and every experience here in the Motherland.

In Belgium, when a crosser is seen on the parcours with hands on hoods, head focused forward, jaw clinched, rooster tail of mud and grass spitting out the back, the Belgian silently watching is not watching like you and I watch a cross. Indeed, there is the sport of it all they are interested in, but beyond that, it is a communion of all that they are as Belgians and it is inherently known by the spectator there lining the tape on these fields. They're born into it. Grit, determination, nature, heart...they are watching a communion of their boys with the same earth and fields and conditions they call their home. It is not like what you and I know when we watch cross. We've made a spectacle out of it. And it's fun, do not misconstrue what I am saying, but the essence of that person and how the person communes with their birthplace is something we do not yet have the history to embrace and have sunk in.

They, my friends, are harder than us. But we are fast. Faster than you think.

Please do this. Please race over here and talk with as many people as you can about it when you return....but talk about it in the RIGHT ways. Please ask them their opinions on their racers...on their local courses, on their local beers. You will be taken in.

OK, enough of that. It is what it is over here, and what it is, simply needs to be experienced as a racer if you truly feel you are a crosser and you truly want to understand its roots. That was my mission and I call it complete. And the completeness has me staggering on how I want to build courses and involve town committees, and....well, you get the picture.

Rant over.

On to the day, peeps. Today was the Fort 6 Cyclocross literally within the city of Wilrijk, just outside of Antwerp. I'll get right to it and say: 18th folks. Out of the money (15th was the cut off for za prijs). It was inexplicably hard for me today and no excuses. Seriously. I am better than that but I've never felt more empty. Zero in the legs after truly leaving my corpse on the sands of Zilvermeer yesterday. Absolutely nothing. Let me give you a bit of a taste of the day.

We got to the course, went to the inschrivung, said hello to folks we've seen at the registration TONS already, and grabbed numbers. We then kitted up and jammed out on our B bikes. We could immediately see that today equaled MUD. When we got onto the parcours, holy God, tough. axle deep mud, slippery single track that pitched up at 45 degrees and equally down at vicious pitches. Dubba, as always, has us totally dialed, bringing our A rigs to the start, collecting all our crap to keep us focused.

So, we got the 5 minute to race time TWEEET! and we all queue up. I was hoping for a good call up but it wasn't to be. they called up 1-30 and the' De reste!" which means the rest should fall in. Literally last row. I was bummed! After pre-riding and knowing that the legs were not turning over the way I needed them to, I knew I was in for it.

"Ein minuten!". Again the tension then TWEEEEEEET! The whistle blows....

We roll down the pavement into a 180 switch back into mud and from mud into a mud uphill. Dudes are squirly and I am fighting to get past as many as I can. We climb this muddy fire road up onto the 45 degree pitches. LITERALLY, people are standing still so I run through the woods to get around some of these foolios. More climbing. with whoops and off camber slippery mud. Dodgey. On this one downhill chute, there is hesitation. I dismount and run past 5 guys (literally) to ensure I am safe and out of their schwag.

The course demanded unbelievable power which I was not in surplus of today. My 42 x 12/25 really needed to be a 42 x 12/27....

So I ground it out and got 'er done. I had Richard Groenendaal in my head as I had to dismount and cross country run through the fields and up pitches to stay within contact of my competition.

I changed bikes once to lighten up the mud and eventually came in on the lead lap about 4 minutes after the winner today who was flying.

It is late here in Belgium and I've got to finish up so I can get some Z's. I will post on Brandon's race tomorrow or Tuesday when I am States-side which was great! I have a TON of photos as well. Arne won today amongst a pretty impressive field. Tim Van Neuffel looked uper strong early on but faded and big Arne just dieseled this mud with inexplicable power. You really have to witness it.

Oh, we met Mario De Clercq today after our race who was pitting for his son Angelo and we chatted and it was really fantastic! It confirmed the communion I speak about above when you see a 2 time world champion working his son's bike over in the muddy pits, running across the fields in the mud to get to sections to cheer him on. Awesome.

The dream has been lived. More to report in the coming days so you can see some more digital celluloid. Brandon and I are talking about a slide show between our numerous photos and videos to talk you through our experiences. Likely at Boulder Cycle Sport in the coming weeks. We'll bring the beers. Stay tuned.

Lived the dream. You will too. 363 days.

Tick tock tick tock....

'Cross on.
GK

Place: Zilvermeer Strand, Belgium -
MASTER'S WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS, BABY!

Ladies and gents: She's in the books. The UCI Master's World Championships age group 1968-1973. I will say this before I dive into the gory details: I left every single solitary ounce of myself out there on the sand, pavement and single-track today. It is done.

So let's get to the day, shall we? We rolled out of Blauberg at 11AM for our 45 minute drive to Zilvermeer. We passed Dubba on the way as he's getting his training on today. All those 'nice' days we had caught up with us today with pissing sideways rain and windier than a mo fo out there.

We get to Zilvermeer and look out out the course...
It's gonna be brutal today. We proceed to inschriving (registration) and it is like a well oiled watch. You walk up, fill out a form, show them your UCI license and they take care of the rest. Oh, and they all speak perfect English.
While there, I was able to meet with Phillipe (did not get last name, but the gentleman in the middle below in the pic) who is the MAN. He literally runs the show. We chatted and he is an incredibly great guy who was as excited for us to be there as we were. Thanks Phillipe!

I finished up and grabbed my numbers for the back and arms. I got Bo Jackson'd today. Sweet.
So, let me tell you a bit about the atmosphere. In the summer, you could see how this place must go off with a bunch of pasty white dudes with banana hammocks hanging with their kids and tanned brides. it's a full on beach play land in the middle of nowhere. Today, only the hearty, not afraid of sideways rain and fashion faux pas with a set of Wellingtons on came out to line the Visa tape of the course. There was cheesy 80-'s re-mixed music blaring (e.g. I could NOT get Hall and Oates out of my head...STILL can't: "I can't go for that. Nooo, no can do.") and lots of cross fanatics from EVERY place in the EU. Sick. So many languages it was incredible. I spoke more German today than I have in 10 years.

Dubba was our FULL ON mechanic, soigneur, coach...you name it today. Brandon, thank you my brother. I tapped into so much of your calmness and advice this week. I am indebted. Dubba dialed us in on our pits, spare bikes, etc and came to the start with all the other North Americans (thanks Dave, Tom, Henry, Gannon and Kathy....and CONGRATS KATHY ON YOUR WIN TODAY! Sweet! American's rocking the dark blue and stripes. So g.d. good).

OK, stay on topic, Greg. So KP and I were able to pre-ride about 3 laps between races. The course had changed significantly in my opinion within the woods...the sand being exactly the same as we rode it yesterday. What changed were the berms and more importantly specific drop offs and the like within the woods. This was significant enough to keep you on the bike in some sections versus running them or taking totally different lines we trialled yesterday. So net net it was great to get at-speed laps on before our race.

We kitted up and headed to the start. Everybody is circling and then the UCI officials head down to us with their clipboards and watches. "TWEEEEEEEEEEET!" Whistle blows and the racers flood up to him. He starts announcing names and numbers in the language of the racer! Sweet. 1, 2, 3, 4 people called up. Then "No. 34, Gregory Keller, U-S-A." Holy shit. I GOT IT! I got the front row call up. I shit you not I had dreamed it two nights ago and today it materialized! I let out a gutteral sort of shout and Dubba gets me back in the game. Focus grasshoppah! It gets better. "No. 35, Kurt Perham U-S-A." What the??? YES! KP got called up next. This was TOTALLY odd as they were calling TOTALLY random numbers a la Bingo. 1, 22, 46, 51, 7, 17....you get the picture. The fact they had two numerically sequenced numbers was mad.

In our midst today were ALL the big big guns. German master's national champ. 2 or 3 previous multi-time world master champions...the list as we were told by a local was fairly mad. I will do some research and maybe do a post on some of these guys. Lined up directly behind KP was the winner of our Schriek Grootlo race last week, Bert Vervecken. Sicko...but cool guy.

"1 minute gentlemen!"...then the 30 second count down. I am gonna f-ing drill this mo fo. Taro is in my head saying: "GK, don't win the hole shot. Save it hombre." but there are exactly 52 other dudes back there who want to tear my legs off. I can feel my tire being bumped in that empty silent space between the 15 seconds and 5 seconds to go eternity. Then I remember: Look Up, man. I looked up at the sky and smiled. Smiled and closed my eyes once I knew I realized where I was and where I'd been and what sacrifices have been made by more, WAY more, than just me to be here.

TWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!" 'Cross fans, we are OFF!! Check this sheeit out caught by Dubba "Graham Watson you've got nothing on me" Dwight.

Your fearless blogger won himself the hole shot to the beach with Bert and I plowing through the sand. I followed his wheel through the wooded section past the pits and on through the woods itself. 5 guys came past and I hung on to that group until I was absolutely cross eyed. I was drilling the lines, nailing the run ups all PRO like but the BPM's were in the 180's.

We get to the pavement and the last guy on the train LITERALLY waves me in. Sort of like a "hang in here in this group" gesture. I put my wheel like 2 cm's from his and these guys get it in the 46 x 11's...click click click click....down their chains go to the 11. Almost like the sound of a hammer on a revolver being cocked back before it is released to hit the primer on the bullet that will launch into my head.

I follow this group of 5 about 10 seconds back from Bert onto the beach again. One guy bobbles and forces me to and dismount. "whoosh whoosh whoosh". Belgies flying past. Like 3, maybe 5. Frieght trains. Back in the woods and we're rolling. I am so loaded but doing everything I can to dig ever deeper and spin fast. More dudes bridge, drop me. I stay on for dear life. My eyes are crossed and I am starting to lose composure. Lines are taken not the way I want, power is lost on the flats. I need to collect myself.

KP bridges up after a great effort from a first lap crash. He works with me and we trap a British guy. We work our way through the pavement and KP uses some savvy and launches an attack. I literally soft pedal and block. My British homie knows he's got to work so he comes to the front and drills it. I am starting to feel better and comfortably stay in his wake.

The race then is attrition. I swear to you I am drilling it as deeply as I ever have in my life. I am saying to myself: "Dude this is the master's f-ing worlds. Go f-ing faster". On the pavement I literally ran out of gears in my 42 x 12. The whole bike was a mess of sand. All the gears worked miraculously but I did consider changing bikes, The problem was that the racing was SO TIGHT with dudes around, I did not want to risk losing spots. No one was changing. It was just WAY too fast.

2 laps to go. I know I am in the 20's. And I STILL can not believe I am in a cluster of dudes. People are shouting at them in every language. I am being yelled at by every language. F-ing crazy.

Klang klang klang klang! Laatste Ronde. I'm in the woods and I can here it. a 1/2 lap down on the leaders. I guess I can't complain. I am literally closing my eyes in the woods to eek out more power. I am drilling sections and am so inexplicably loaded in the legs...but I am still rolling. I am way smoother now and decide to attack in the woods. I drop one guys and another follows. He comes past me, I wait, then attack him past the pits on to the pavement. This is exactly when that happened:

Folks: It's in the books. AM I stoked? Absolutely. Could I have ridden any harder. Absolutely not. Taro had me at the absolute fittest I could be. I rode my heart out and left nothing in reserve. I raced as smartly as I possibly could have. Could I have ridden smoother? Absolutely. You have NO IDEA how gifted and experienced my competition was today.....and frankly during my experience here.

I am so tired as I write this. We made a dinner at home and I downed some Leffe Browns. Dubba handed me chocolate with a smile. Hard earned.

Living the dream folks. One more to go tomorrow. Wish us luck.

GK

Obviously a big report coming, but it's in the books! I'm clearly not the guy on the podium, but I'll say that I am satisfied with my placing as 2nd North American, right behind my boy, KP.

Details at 11....

Living the dream.