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.

Place: Zilvermeer (near Mol) Belgium

Zaterdag! Zaterdag Zaterdag! T-minus 24 hours until go time, monster truck, er ah, 'cross fans! We pre-rode the course op het strand (on the beach) today. Yum. Another AWESOME course, if not super short. All the details coming up below.

We packed up the Vito with all the bikes, tires, etc and got to Zilvermeer in about 45 minutes on an overcast morning. There were tons of people out from ALL sorts of places: France, Great Britain, Slovakia, Canada, The Netherlands, Belgium....and of course the good 'ol U.S. of A. Great to meet you, our Kansas City and Idaho brethren!

We parked, suited up and made our way from the parking lot to the beach. We dropped off our extra stuff at the Materiaal Post (the pits) and I dialed in the FMB's to try out. I documented the course fairly well below but I'll give you a couple of sound bytes about it:

• Sandy: Duh, but it is ever present not only on the beach but features itself in the woods, in the corners and ultimately presents its own challenges outside of just riding through it, running over it. Tire pressure ,tire pressure, tire pressure. Find the balance grasshopper.
  
• Technical: This course reminds be a lot of Schriek Grootlo in that is is well suited for riders who like to power out of the corners on very tight turns. Out side of the sand features, it has plenty of run ups (2) that are technical in nature in themselves and S turns and 180s everywhere. No barriers on the course but plenty of other features make it challenging and fun.
  
• Short: This mo fo is very short. In 85-90% effort trials, the lap times where between 6:40 and 6:50 minutes. This means one of two things: The course designers messed up (nope) or the course designers have it dialed and know that the sand will be the attrition spot that will likely accordion the group lap after lap (yup).
• Start position will be EVERYTHING: When is it not in 'cross but seriously, this course will demand it as the recovery sections will be reserved for just that. In no way am I setting myself up here 'just in case' but ANYONE will say (including all the various nationalities I spoke to today) that start position will be everything tomorrow. If you're on the back, well, it'll be a tour of the beach.
  

To be more precise, the course lays out like this:

1. Start on pavement for 300 meters
2. Bang SHARP left into a 50 meter slightly down hill sand slog
3. Hard left turn on sand for along-the-beach (harder packed sand) for 175 meters
4. Into the woods for tight S turns
5. Past the pits...
6. Up and over the first log run up...
7. More wooded S turns
8. Around an S an apex into a small bump of a hill and there is a sheer drop off directly into sand. IMHO, it's gonna be WAY faster to run...
9. More wooded S turns into 2nd log run up
10. More woods, S turns and past the pits again, onto pavement
11. Past start finish.
    

Total time should be about 6:40 per lap for those on top of it.

So, let me 'show' you the beginning of the course at least with the magic of YouTube. Sorry I only got the beginning of the course because I crashed filming this mid way through and gunked up my camera! HA! I need a film crew....

The start...

Into the sand....

The 50 meter initial slog...

Some choose to ride...some run...

From the sand, into the woods...

Some action through the S's....

OK, now that you get a sense for what the course is like in video, here are some stills for you in sequential order of the course...

...or they'll never know just exactly how much of a chump this guy really is! I am sitting here FLOORED by what my co-workers assembled for me and I'll never forget it. This week is our company's annual kick off. It's the first one in 10 years I have not attended to help rally the troops. To set the stage for you when you watch the YouTube, in all honestly, I've got me some big ass hair. OK, I admit it. The entire company got their hair on for me in support of this whole crazy adventure I'm on. Beeatches.

My Embarcadero people (and Shana and Greg D, I know you were behind this!!): I love you and thank you. Now seriously realize, I am a hack....HA! But I'll take down a Belgie or two for ya while throwing down hard! They'll never take me alive!

I truly am the luckiest man in the world.

In a bit of a dilemma. This is the problem space I am dealing with:
Oh, and I need to squeeze in my street clothes. D'oh! Now, I need to quit my over thinking, pare down, and take what I need. At this point I have two of everything:

• Two Rock Lobsters in a Tri All case
  
• Two sets of wheels in a Tri All wheel case
  
• Various small tools
• Helmet
• Two sets of Oakleys
  
• Two sets of shoes (OK, 3)
• Two sets of gloves (OK 4)
• Two sets of leg warmers
• Two sets of base layers
• Two different kinds of leg oils
• Two different kind of knit caps and cycling caps
• Three skin suits
• Two cold weather jackets
• Two light weather jackets
• Two rain jackets
• Over pants for the wet and muddy pre-rides
• A week's wort of street clothes
• Beauty aids including bubble bath and my rubber ducky
  
• Computer and camera for blogilicious reports from the motherland
  
• EU Power Adapter
• Maps and books

I should have chartered a GV. I am personally contributing to extending the war with all the extra fuel United is gonna need to make it to Brussels!

T-minus a couple-a days and we're on the aluminum tube over to the Motherland. THEN, I'll have some new stuff for you all to read. Sorry for the lead up dribble.

So at this point, I am doing some touch up. Whatever work I've put in is in and that is that. I've definitely put everything I could given the balance I have got to maintain into this trip in terms of body prep so all that is left is dodging this light cold I have (nothing big) and doing some tuning this week with prescribed intervals designed to keep the channels open in za muscles.

Changing subjects, I just want to say THANK YOU to all my homies. Honestly, the emails and shouts of encouragement are truly special. At the end of the day, I'm not deploying to Iraq. But it feels like it! If you lessen the degree of severity to the scale I am venturing on (a 'cross vacation), there is still a sense of 'man, give 'em hell' when I speak to true 'crossers. It is like going to battle, gladiator style. Here's where I am at with all this:

• We've chosen a sport (cycling) that is by its very nature hard and inherently self-weeding of non motivated people.
  
• The specific part of the sport we've poured our passion into ('cross) is probably most prohibitive...even for long time racers...given the extremity of it all: conditions, intensity, aestheticism/technique. The shit's hard, yo. I can't believe I've maintained fitness and motivation since August. I do NOT want to stop!
  
• We participate in this discipline and it gets us so close to PRO....more than any other sport. As an example, Fred, the local softball 3rd baseman from the East 53rd Street McSorley's Irish Pub team is likely not going to escalate his skills up the 'series' ladder to compete against the best on earth. Frankly he can't. The escalation doesn't exist. Cross can give us that. Look at our homies over there new throwing down in the Super Prestige and GVA's. Many of you race against them/with them weekend in and out in Portland, Seattle, Boulder, Boston....It is that exciting.
  

So in my head, it's basically those points and more which are are deeply embedded in your (the crossers) brains...possibly without you realizing it....and yet you know what's up with trips like this to Belgium and you take the time to say 'Give 'em hell'. That is so rad it makes my hair stand up. I will try to throw down as hard as I f-ing can.

I look at this picture Jon C sent to me to stoke me up. Open this bad boy up and look at it.
This is the face of a man saying "Holy shit. I just won the hole shot at the Master's World's." I love it. It's these sort of stoke ups from Jon, Mark Howland, Will Black, Brandon, Boups, Bobby Noyes....and boat loads of other folks....that again, make may hair stand up.

I will report. You will be stoked. You will come to the Motherland next year and get it on.

Start saying it. Write it down, print it out, and hang it up (or set an Outlook reminder, worker bees) and it will come true.

Ya-f-ing HOO.

My team mate G-Pent's wife Cari TOTALLY dialed me with a Tri All double-wide travel case and wheel case for the journey over seas. THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU GUYS!

I've got to get these things trial-packed. Anyone ever use this set up? Any gotchas (besides what I am going to have to pay United??). They look bomber and are pretty straight forward with wheel mounts inside. It looks like merely seat , wheel and pedals need to come off but I am suspect on the bars being able to be left on.

Anywhoo:

ONE WEEK LEFT! YEE HAW!

We got the Vito dialed in for pickup at the Brussels Airport. Pimp. They sent me a picture with my order confirmation:

Mmm. Eurotrash. Mmm.

Where am I? That's right, Maple Laughs fans. Couple-a-days of bidness at our labs here in the Great White North. All day travel....mostly trapped in the aluminum tube on the tarmac after a toddler ralphed like Linda Blaire in the Exorcist. Awesome. Literally nails the people in the row in front some how. Chaos erupts and it is decided we must turn the aluminum tube around and return to the gate to dump off Linda, her parents and wait for them to extract their luggage and have the cleaning crew in white chemical suits come in and sterilize.

I love my job.

Yesterday though was some nice sweet suffering on za bike. I finally got out on the roadie after way too much inside and on the 'cross bike. I had some badness with my PowerSnap as well:

If you see this on the PowerTap's CPU unit: APIdr ....you are humped. The PowerTap was flickering and needed a battery change like I've done like 10 times since getting this thing last year (that;s another story). I swapped out the CPU's 2032 battery and literally that APIdr message pops up. Uh, oh. Sphincter pucker. I call Saris and I've got to admit, the support was decent to get this specific issue resolved. The guys says nonchalantly: Oh, yeah. Um it looks like your CPU crapped out and you need to reinstall the firmware. I had to:

• Install the USB drivers on my lap top
• Download the new version of the CPU's firmware
• Connect the USB doc to the PC
• Configure the right port for the USB
  
• Load the firmware.

Voila. Success.

Now I get to use the thing again, but I can't connect it to CyclingPeaks or PowerAgent. Awesome. And I'm a software guy....

So I took to the roads with the fixed PowerSnap yesterday and it was fun. For those of you in the Boulder Denver area, you are intimate....maybe bored....with the "Fruit Loops." It is the perfect training ground in normal conditions for coaches to dose specific plans to have flatland/rolling power bench marks set and monitored. Doing this in good weather is fun and fast. But do this on snow and with skinny 23c tires. Crazy. SO I just buried myself and the watts were flying though and being able to sustain them was a good thing as I am still working hard to focus on January. It is MONUMENTALLY hard to stay monk-ish but I am trying. Calories in must not exceed calories used...or so I try to hold on to. Super hard.

But at least I am not vomiting....