A Tribute to Fat Tire

We got accepted into the Chequamegon Fat Tire Festival. 40 miles of sweet trail. It got me thinking about the effects Fat tires have had on my life so here is a long, long story about my history with Fat Tire.

My love for Fat tire started approx 7 years ago.

Doodlidoo, doodilidoo, doolidoo

My BFF and I hit up a local club in the San Fran area Fuse. (I was hoping to have some pictures but I guess theres none out there.)

We spent the day/evening drinking Martinis, listening to great music and pretending to be writers with the Hastings Star Gazette, doing a story on the hot spots in San Fran. I think I got about 40 interviews with various people completed when Jessie had the bright idea to start listening to them. Well Guess what, Blondey (that would be me) Didnt know how to work the dam thing and I had play pushed down the whole time. Not one of my fabulous interviews was recorded, and because of the Martinis, I really dont remember them. Maybe this was a godsend.

Anywho I digress, The bartender offered me a Fattire, telling me that it was a medium bodied beer with a subtle hit of chocolate. Hell ya, im in! I exclaimed. What more could a chick want then chocolate flavored beer. It went down great, it tasted like nothing I had had before. In hindsight the beers good but I think the thrill of the vacation and the martinis before may have helped the situation out alittle bit.

I drank it everywhere we went for the rest of the trip. I came home only to learn that a case would cost me a hundo to get it here from Colorado. Apparently it was to expensive to get to MN, it had been here once before but there was not enough demand vs expenses so it was pulled.

On my 25th BDay my Dad, being the awesomest Dad there is! had a case sent to me as my present. Needless to say, it was a fabulous BDay. Thanks again Dad!

In April 2006 My friend Andrea and I ventured out to Vegas for a glorious bit of trouble. Again Fat tire was my beverage of choice, and I only learned of its exsistence after another Martini night. Weird!

Its almost pathetic, not quite, but almost, that I can remember every bit of Fat tire I have drank since learning of its existence.

August of 2006 another Fat Tire weaseled its way into my life. I purchased a Cannondale F500 in 2001 at the insistence of my boyfriend. Mine is pertty Red though. It spent the first few years of its life chillin in my garage collecting dust. The fate of many poor bikes, brought home from the shop expecting to be cared for and loved, but left to hang upside down drying up with age, just itching for someone to get its wheels a spinnin' once again.

I took it out a few times right after purchasing the bike, we rode from Hastings to Cannon Falls and back. Spent some glorious days on the bike trails in the Hastings area and on the Cannon River trail, but it didnt last to long. I moved like 5 times and had multiple jobs at one time and my bike got neglected like many other things.

I grew up in the country and have always had a mountain bike. We spent hours upon hours riding up and down dirt hills and gravel roads back in the day. We would crash on the dirt hills and get covered in burrs but It never mattered, we would just pick them off and do it again. Which is why it surprises me to look back and realize that I hadnt even thought about taking the Cannondale off roading until sometime in 2004. I spent lots of time trail running and hiking the Miesville Ravine, during one of my hikes it dawned on me, hey I have a sweet bike sitting in my garage I should try it out on these trails.

So venture #1 on my bike in approx 3 years: Down to the Miesville Ravine I go, only to be stopped by a Park Ranger within the first 15 mins of my ride. He proceeds to tell me I can't have my bike on the trails because it ruins them. I fought saying Hey, look at the fourwheeler trails made by you, what I am riding is doing far less damage on the trails then what your riding. Needless to say that didnt sit to well with the park ranger and he escorted me out of the park.

Bye bye bike, it sat in the garage again for another 2 years. I guess I am easily discouraged.

In 2006 My BF Andy, decided to get back into mountain bike racing (its something he had done as a kid). I traveled along as his trusty water bottle passer outter, cheering section, photographer, and dog watcher/walker. It was great to be out there chearing him and others on. I got to hike around and take photos, get the dog some exercise, we met tons of people who are now great friends, it was quite amazing and unlike anything I had experienced before.

Andy started riding more and checking out all the local trails, he got my bike down and lubed her all up and started hasseling me to get out there and ride. I cant rememer exactly how it went, but I think we rode Terrace Oaks a few times then Andy brought me to Lebanon Hills. Riding this trail was probably the scariest thing I had done. I was not the caliber of rider that it takes to ride the intermediate trail at leb, and to make matters worse Andy insisted that I ride in front of him. That absoluetly freaked me out. For one he was way faster then I was and two, I wanted to show him that I could ride the trail and do good. I attempted a rock pile that I think I still avoid and went flying over my bars. I landed about 10 feet from my bike on a downward slope covered in logs. I skid down another 10 feet until I finally came to a stop. Somehow I rode out of there, but my shoulder, back, and ass where pretty sore for the next few weeks.

I am a pretty insistent person who does not give up easily and does not like to let things get the best of me, so a few weeks later we headed back to Lebanon for another shot. This time Andy and I agreed to do our own ride and we would meet in the parking lot afterwards.

I made it about half way through the trail system, I was going down a step formation and didnt have my weight distributed correctly. Wham! Next thing I knew I was on the side of the trail on my back with the wind knocked out of me. I layed there for a minute catching my breathe, I heard some bikers in the distance and realized that my bike was in the trail. I got up and pulled my bike to the side of the trail, happy to realize that I really wasnt in much pain and my bike was fine.

Four dudes rode on by asking if I was okay, I said yes wondering how they had known I crashed. I hopped back on my trusty stead and shakely began riding my bike out of the trail, with each pedal stroke things began to ache, first my wrist, then my arm, next my leg. By the trail exit I was pedaling with one leg and had only one working hand.

I broke the scaphoid in my left hand and had the bruise the size of a basketball in my groin. Not quite sure how that got hit but Im glad its okay!

wow this is an uber post and no longer a tribute, I guess I should rename this post.

It was pretty much the end of the summer at that point, my bike was back in the racks for another 3/4 of a year.

Over the Winter I met a women Named Janet, Her husband biked and she did fitness competitions. We started chatting and within a month they had us over for dinner.

The rest is history, The guys started riding together, and Janet and I would ride together. We had the same pace and would help each other with the technical features. Actually If you ask Janet, She helped me and I hurt her ; ) Janet and I were putting some decent time on our bikes and getting better, we would have a fall or two on our first rides but that is the amazing thing with biking. It gets easier very quick if you stick to it and you can see the progress so you really feel great about your accomplishments.

Janet wanted to try a MORC Womens Ride and convinced me to go along. It was a wonderful group of women of all riding abilities. They have now become a staple in my life. We tried new trails, new features/obstacles, and met new people. It is a group that allows you to be who you are with no hard feelings, it doesnt matter if you are fast or slow, or need to get off and walk over obstacles, you are welcomed.

With all the riding and progress that was being made I guess Andy decided to coak me into racing. I had told him the year before that there was no chance in hell that he could get me to race. Well I guess hell must have froze over because he planted the seed and it grew. I did photos for the first race of the season and wished that I was riding the whole entire time. I signed up for the 2nd race of the season. It was held at Steeplechase in Mazeppa MN. I am much better at hill climbing then technical features on the trail so I didnt know it at the time, but it was the perfect course for me.

I had an offer from Peace Coffee to join the race team but I wanted to get a race under my belt and see if it was really for me. I was alittle slow off the start, they rerouted the trail for Citizen class and the grass was wet and slick, but I chugged up the hills with Ton yelling "your going faster up the hills Dana, what the heck" We circled the prolouge twice then headed down the front of the hill by the time we hit the bottom of the trail I could feel my body taking off, I passed a few people and stared climbing the hills. It felt great! I came in 2nd out of the ladies and First in my age group. It was the motivation I needed to keep with the racing.

I completed 6 of the 10 races last season and finished first in my age group. All in all it was a fantastic year and I cant wait for the next one to begin!!!

Now Andy and I have a very large repretoire of biking friends. We ride every week rain or shine, snow and ice. In under two years biking has changed my life forever and has become something that I cannot live without. Fat tire beer has also made its way back to MN. My favorite two fat tires have been brought together along with a boatload of friends to share them with.