Hello and welcome to An Altitude Problem, where the altitude is the least of our problems. In fact, we love the altitude this time of year. It keeps us cool and comfortable and strong and healthy. It gives us more and thinner blood than lowlanders, which means we get a blood-doping effect when we go to lower elevations. No, the altitude is not the problem.

It wasnt the problem last night, when I lost the Swan River Rampage, the latest Summit Mountain Challenge bike race. I do mean lost. I wasnt quite dead last, but close. It was a bad evening. I rode hard and passed people on the uphills, but on the downhills, I absolutely could not keep my speed. It is a bike thing and a tire thing, and I was so wiped out by the last downhill that I could not pedal hard enough to keep the pack in sight. It was a road downhill, wide open, and I was going all I could, and flat could not keep the speed. I blame my new tires. Everyone else is riding tires with low rolling resistance, which makes them less effective on technical, loose conditions, and mine take more muscle to keep rolling, but it takes some serious effort to get them to break loose on a steep uphill or a sharp turn. Which meant that while they were walking uphill, I was riding past them, but as soon as we hit the jeep roads, they flew past me like I was standing still, and with fresh lungs from walking instead of riding uphill. And just when I was about at redline, could not go any harder, my chain bound up in my front derailleur and my pedals stopped dead and I had to throw my bike off the trail and scramble to avoid the pack behind me. I got it untangled, downshifted by spinning my pedals by hand, jumped back on after having lost several places to other riders, and continued on. I pulled over to let someone by, and all the riders who were just a little bit slower than me also began yelling "trail!" and I couldnt get back on the singletrack for about six people, and when I did, they went unbelieveably slowly and I rode my brakes in an area I usually rip, a buttery section of trail that contains sudden, sharp elevation changes- my strongest area. I am a good climber, so I usually stand on my pedals and watch the gaps close on the short, steep uphills, and I am a good bike handler on a smooth trail that is twisty and tight. These are the things that usually serve me well, because it is not about having the lightest bike with the least rolling resistance, it is about balance and coordination and daring to take turns just a little faster, pedal on the downhills, and pedal just a little harder on the uphills. I am not good in rock gardens, I am not good on slippery, gravelly conditions, but in conditions like the Colorado Trail portion of the race last night, I expect to do well and make up time. I did not do well. I did pass a few riders eventually, but then we hit the jeep road back down to the valley and they came flying around me with their carbon fiber bikes and smooth tires. Then we hit the uphill and I rode around them and, glancing back, watched them fall back. I rode through the stream thinking maybe I would not do so badly, after all, and hit the opposite bank, and stood on my pedals, and there went my chain, slipped off. I jumped off, put it back on, walked my bike up the short hill, and rode again, having lost precious time and another spot, and hit the downhill and tried so hard to pedal hard enough to outrun my gears and just could not get it there, and a few seconds later, the girls that had been so far behind on the uphill flew past me like I was standing still. I knew then that I was done. I still redlined it all the way to the finish line, but it changed nothing. I couldn't catch anyone. This morning my throat still hurts, I am still wheezing and hacking a bit from being so out of breath for so long last night, my head still aches a little bit, my muscles still feel weak.

And that is your latest race report. I am sorry if that was totally boring. I find myself giving blow-by-blows when someone asks how the race went, and they really do not care.

Until last night, I was in third place overall, by my points standings. At the end of the season, they let you drop your worst race from your points. I can only hope that this is the one I drop. If I do worse than this in the remaining three races, I think I should just do myself a favor and quit now.

But, racing aside, the summer is treating us well. We keep trying to get away and take the camper out again, but something always comes up. The story of our lives. We are busy. It is the Season again, which means money is coming in again, but we are too busy to enjoy it. I try to get out once a day to ride. Along with a busy work schedule comes a poor diet, probably part of my problem last night, eating on the fly and from packages, but I think this may be the week to change that. Eat better, train harder, so the Pennsylvania Gulch Grind (up Boreas Pass above Breckenridge on July 28) is not quite such a killer.

And now, off to it. I am sitting here in shorts and jersey, the sun shining in my window. I am thinking about hitting Keystone before work. I need more practice on downhilling. Only problem is, then I will be wiped out before I even start work, and working exhausted always puts me in a bad mood. But if I work first, no telling what the weather will be like by late afternoon...