What Would Kelly Do?

Cyclocross Upgrades

2011-12-03T14:02:00.009-06:00

Cyclocross is all about tradition. In the Midwest (where former pros have no problem racing and winning on the road as Cat 5s) sandbagging is the greatest tradition. Who am I to stand in the way of tradition?

Cyclocross upgrades
4-3: Experience in 10 qualifying races or 10 points in 12 months
3-2: 10 points in 12 months (two wins is an automatic upgrade if the field had at least 11 competitors)
2-1: 20 points in 12 months (two wins is an automatic upgrade if the field had at least 40 competitors)

I've seen the standard of racing improve noticeably where the local associations were strict about upgrading. Cat 3 races were much more competitive, Cat 4s were much more likely to upgrade sooner because they felt less likely to be out of their depth. Cat 1/2 races had bigger and better fields.

Exceeding the minimum points or experience requirements entitles you to upgrade - it's optional, you're not forced to.

Hitting the wins requirements compels you to upgrade.

Plenty of Cat 3s out there who have two wins. That means you must upgrade.

Plenty of Cat 3s with 20+ points. That means you're well able for the Cat 2s - why not upgrade?

Automatic does not mean optional. It does not mean waiting for the end of the season, or States or Regionals.

It'd be nice if USA cycling put a points limit in the upgrade requirements, ala the road rules. As it is, you can accumulate points forever. Making the points go a little deeper would be good. Very hard to accumulate points if they're being taken by those who have no intention of using them. It'd also be nice if the local upgrade coordinator scanned the results every now and then and acted accordingly. But that's not his responsibility, it's the rider's.

btw, upgrade coordinators have a lot of latitude. They can refuse an upgrade if they wish, they can force an upgrade if they wish. An automatic upgrade can always be refused if the coordinator has a good reason. Safety, and integrity of the racing are always priority.

Road upgrades
4-3: 20 points in any 12-month period; or experience in 25 qualifying races with a minimum of 10 top ten finishes with fields of 30 riders or more, or 20 pack finishes with fields over 50. 30 points in 12 months is an automatic upgrade.
3-2: 25 points in any 12-month period
40 points in 12 months is an automatic upgrade
2-1: 30 points in any 12-month period**
50 points in 12 months is an automatic upgrade

The rules are clearer.

Again, automatic does not just mean that your application, should you choose to submit it, will be automatically approved. It means that failing to submit an upgrade application when you have met the automatic upgrade requirements makes you a sandbagger. In other words - a true Midwesterner.

Wheel Build

2011-07-04T14:32:00.009-05:00

Kinlin TB-25 25 mm Tubular rim - 429 g

Join barely visible. Can't detect by touch.

25 DT Revs 280 mm- 2.0/1.5/2.0 - 114 g. 4.55 g each

12 DT Comps - DB 2.0/1.8/2.0 - 76 g. 6.3 g each
281 mm DS
286 mm NDS

100 Brass nipples - 1 g each

100 alloy nipples - 0.3 g each

24H Novatec Front hub. 77 g

24H Bitex Rear Hub. 211 g.

Expected weight: (hub+spokes+nips+rim)

Front - 77+110+7.2+429 = 623 g
Rear - 211+152+3.6+12+429 = 808 g

Total: 1431 g

(Parts sourced from Bdopcycling, bikehubstore, Icycles, Mandala bicycle products)

Tour of Galena

2011-06-19T00:59:00.011-05:00

The demeanour expresses everything.

Pride of East Dubuque

(Still editing this. Expect some changes. Others may have seen it differently. But it's how I remember it.)

Time Trial:
-------------

Violent. The only word I and most others could use to describe this. Violent start, violent effort, violent recovery. Violence done to legs, lungs and will.

Pro tip: don't eat breakfast.

The course was a roughly 3 mile out and back over deceptively steep rollers for wave 1. Wave two had a scary winding descent and climb approaching 20% grade tacked on for 4.3 miles.

Short efforts require long warmups and maximum efforts. No time to go out easy. You won't get the chance to make up time later, you've got to push it from the gun. But push it too hard and you will pay doubly for it on the return leg.

I knew that key to the course as to take as much speed as possible into the base of each hill, downshift rapidly, spin up and sprint over the top to hit maximum speed on the way down and bring it into the next incline.

With all the rapid shifting and out of the saddle efforts, it probably wasn't worth using a TT bike. Which is fine as I wouldn't have space for one anyway. I did opt to slam my stem and go with an aero helmet and skinsuit. I also installed a set of clip on aerobars, but wasted so much time getting in and out of them while shifting that I doubt they were any benefit. I don't have even a semi-aero wheel available so had to go with my 32 spoke box section rims and 25 mm tires - at least I had my get-out excuse already lined up.

Warming up is key. Shorter the event, the longer the warmup necessary. Ideally 45 minutes easy spinning followed by 10-15 minutes with jumps and short hard efforts. 7 am starts are not conducive to getting my stuff together. I managed 10 minutes on the course and a few jumps while waiting around to start. Not ideal.

Starting off into the first hill I gradually increased pace and shifted sensibly through the gears. However I just couldn't find the jump to bring me over the top at speed and I knew that, even though I was in the 11 tooth, I should have been spinning faster on the downhills. So it went, into and out of the drops, shifting, into the aerobars, back out sprinting and spinning - but missing something. The turnaround was a bit weird, there's usually a volunteer right there pointing at the correct turnaround cone. Instead there were a couple of officials and a volunteer standing in the ditch and a line of two cones, a 55 gallon drum and one more cone. Nobody indicating anything in particular. I've never seen a barrel used as a turnaround marker before, but I guessed this was the particular marker and went round this, not without scrubbing way too much speed in the confusion.

Heading for home I realised some urgency and forced myself to concentrate better. Smarter shifting, exaggerated crouch, more pain on the uphills. Threw no more time away. When the finish line at the top of the last hill came into view I shifted into the highest gear I could turn, and did an all out maximum standing effort up the hill. Crossing the line with a final throw and knowing I had aced the return.

The next ten minutes were a violent silence of empty heaving stomach, crouched over bars, blurred vision. Joined in the concert every 30 seconds or so by the next rider to finish. A silent cacophony of pain.

Definitely not a bad effort, but I left a few seconds out there.

It might be surprising that such a short effort could have a long effect, but the damage done to the body was definitely to be felt in the road race later that day.

Road Race
----------------

Herd: A collection of animals acting together in an unplanned fashion. Each individual choosing behaviour corresponding to the majority of other members.

A herd tends to group together to protect against predators. even though they present an easy target, the principal motivator is risk-dilution.

Herds can be controlled by other species. i.e. sprinters or trackies. Or even motos, but motos tend to be more effective.

By definition, herds are preyed upon. Usually by sprinters or sandbaggers, or both.

Pack: A pack is less well defined. The big difference between a pack and a herd is politics. Packs have hierarchies. Packs have leaders. Packs have competition for leaders. Pack members will have different roles, such as workhorse, climber, sprinter. Packs split, self destruct and get absorbed by other packs.

Pack members have personalities but will work together for a common purpose. Usually attacking a herd. Packs sense weakness and attack. Sometimes packs attack anyway just to weaken the herd. When the herd is duly broken, it gets savaged and the pack will fight amongst themselves for the best spoils.

When folks like Druber and Little Lord Sprockula use words like outstanding, classic and brutal to describe a course, you can expect it to be a leg-breaking and selective with the pack shattering into drabbles of ones and twos and only riders who are willing to suffer and try hard getting to the finish to fight it out for the win and top placings.

My goal was to get a break going, or whittle the pack down, to a lead group of 5 or 6. That number I am confident I can work over to get a good result. More than that then it's just too hard to get away, too easy for others to hide in the draft and keep the legs fresh to respond. It didn't work out. I have two regrets. Not attacking more and turning up to race.

When cat 4 races on such a course end in bunch sprints, with fewer than half the starters shed, then you know that 'racing' is a loose term for the activity and a truthful account of the 'racing' that took place would be a very blank page.

I don't really get the herd mentality, so I turned to my best friend, Lucy, see above, and her telepathic skills to channel the thoughts of some of the participants during the event. She's an expert on herd dynamics and has years of experience and participation with the pack, so she could provide some useful insights.

The Weenie: "Ok, here we go! Mantra: Don't get dropped! Don't get dropped! Don't get dropped! ok, stay out of the wind. Need to be further back than 20th place at all times. Here's the first hill. Good. Nice and steady. Barely feel it here at the back. ... Crap! there goes a guy up the road! He's joined up with two others who were gapped off the front. Don't like the look of this. Better yell something and then pretend it wasn't me. Good. Two guys jumped across and slowed things down. That'll teach him.

Hills. I'm scared of hills. Better set an example from the back. Go as slow as possible. Yell that there are hills coming up. Conserve. Make sure everyone is as fresh as possible so that we all get over each hill together. Worst thing that can happen is that we shred the group. Then I would have no where to hide.
..ok, got through almost all the race without a problem. That last big scary hill is coming. better slow things down even more for that. oops! looks like 3 or 4 guys are sliding off, including the big TT guy and that scary fast sprinter. Can't have that. Sit up over the top. Soft-pedal, eat and drink. comment on how hard that was. Took a couple of minutes but they're back on. Can't risk diluting the herd. We need those guys to hide behind at the end. Nice. Five mile downhill to the finish. We're almost all together. Lots of shelter from the big guys. That guy punching it at the front has no chance. Last few curves. Cross the line. I did it! I didn't get dropped! Still in the bottom half of the field but at least I did what I could to emphasise the groupthink; and I didn't get dropped!"

The Sprinter: "Hills. Hate 'em! But the cat 4s have been good to me so far. They've handed every race to me on a plate and I've barely broken a sweat. Even though I'm 15 kilos over weight and have may be two accelerations in me, I'm sure they will figure out a way to keep me with them to the end. They always do. ok, rolling along nicely. I'll just stay her in 10th position. Out of the wind and keeping an eye on things. Uh, oh! There goes that guy, hammering over the top of the hill into the false flat and joining up with two others. This looks bad. Better bite the bullet! Ok, I jumped onto the back. There are 4 of us. Now let's kill this thing. That guy is pulling through like a monster but the other guys pulls are barely hard tempo. Here's my turn. Two quick spins of the pedals and pull to the side. Put that guy back in the wind before he even knew it and took a good 1 mph off the pace. Nice! The pack has nearly caught us. Hope that puts the dampers on
things. If one or two others really wanted to work I could be in trouble.

Alright, first lap over. That hurt. But I managed to haul my ass up those hills. Now that we've dropped all the non-climbers it's going to be a Sunday stroll to the finish. Anyone who ups the pace is gonna be made pay dearly in the end.

... Not looking forward to this. Steep hill. Sliding off the back.... Knew I should have stuck to crits. Too far from home to DNF, better struggle on. At least I have some company. Was really expecting to win this weekend.

what's this? They've all sat up over the top. Drinking and chatting! What a well-mannered bunch. Just a minute or two of tempo and I can catch them before the downhill. These guys sure don't like dropping anyone. Knew they'd find a way to help me out. This is too easy. ok, one big effort for the last hill. Don't lose the wheels. Now the downhill. Lots of shelter. Move up gradually. 500 m to go. Thanks for all the help. Time to go to work!"

The Cat4ever Altruist: "There he goes. Jump on his tail. Nice and smooth so that the pack can follow me. He sits up. Good. The cheek of him! Thinking he can break away in a cat 4 race and subvert the order of things. You're gonna have to cat up buddy if you want to race like that! And I'm going to do my best to make sure you never do. You're staying with me in the 4s forever till you give up or learn to play the game.

What the heck? Attacking over the top of the hill? Doesn't he know there are strong riders off the back. Guys who could win this race if we agree to stay together. Better put the dampeners on that. Nice and smooth acceleration, get on his wheel make sure to drag the others with me. Good, he's given up."

"Very interesting Lucy. Any more insights?"

"Dude, you have to learn to play the game. It's dead easy. Run with the herd. Dilute the risk. Your motivation is racing, theirs is fear. Fear of getting dropped, and fear that not everyone is socialised to the groupthink. Be patient and do nothing. Someone else will do it for you. Just bark and growl a couple of times and watch the sprinter. It's that simple.

"Thank you Lucy. But I'd rather die."

"Your loss. Racing is for fools. Now, how's about my walkies? Woof!"

The Crit
-------------

Pointy oval. Turn were manageable. Only sketchy part was where the backstretch narrowed, widened and narrowed again. Cat 4 races are always a minefield, and on such a course where the field would keep together one false step could result in many of us losing limbs.

I wrote in an email to a buddy the night before: "I will attack three times, the field will chase me down each time and Stan the Sprinter will win". So it went.

We started off at a fast pace and attacked every corner, as cat 4s love to do. I hung at my customary place at the back, just barely hanging on. About 10 minutes in a bit of zip went out of peoples legs and I could sense the pace starting to fall off and the field beginning to bunch. The previous Cat 4 race resulted in a massive last lap crash with ambulances called, collarbone breaks and multiple carbon fiber fatalities. I value my life highly these days ($200k according to work insurance), so I wasn't going to take any risks. A fast race equals strung out equals a safe race. Slow race equals bunching equals banging equals unsafe with too many fresh legs for the last lap.

You don't get upgrade points for cat 4 omniums, but it's nice to get some exposure for the club jersey all the same. I don't start with the aim of finishing second (see my Leland report), so the only way to win the overall was to win the race outright. And the only way to do that for me was get in a break or win solo. Never seen a successful break in a cat 4 race, but I believe one may have happened back in 1985 - so might as well give it a go.

I jumped to the front where the alley widened for a few yards, and hammered it out of the tight corner. Got a gap of a few seconds. Got aero and as I passed the announcers, did a maximum gurn - complete with full teeth clench and slobber out the side of my mouth. Gives a good photo op and impresses the ladies. Keeping up the pace into the wind on the backstretch proved difficult and the field worked hard to close me down.

Next time round I jumped again, increased the gap and hammed it up for the announcers again with my best Tod Hetzel impression. This seemed to tick off the chasers and they worked even harder to close on the backstretch. My hope was that if I could do this four or five times, then they might just give up and let me go for a solo attempt and force some of the omnium guys to chase. Or maybe the field would break apart on a corner and I would be joined by a smaller, more manageable group. But at least the speed kept up. Third time around I jumped again, did my best batface with drool out of both sides of my mouth this time, but the exertion of the previous day were taking their toll and pretty much died into the headwind - the field finally made contact. Of course another guy jumped immediately, the field ignored him, and he won the upcoming prime. A couple more primes kept the pace up and we were into the endgame of the last few laps.

Thankfully, the pace never really dropped, things were kept reasonably strung out, we had put the hurt no some of the weenie riders and it was pretty easy to move to the top few riders when we heard the last lap bell. Five riders took off, I tagged on but got gapped slightly and was never able to close. Amazingly, two of the riders ahead blew up, and after negotiating past them, I was 5th wheel into the last corner. The rider in third then spectacularly failed to read the bend and headed straight for the curb, a couple of us were forced to brake check to avoid him and his sketchy recovery and that was the end of that. A line of fresh riders flew past me on the inside and I wasn't able to wind it up to speed again.

As predicted, Stan, Stan the Sprinter Man won the race (and the omnium overall) with embarrassing ease.

Carlos - GC threat!
------------------------

There were a couple of riders marking me during the crit. While I'm complimented by being considered a GC threat, why on earth would anybody bother marking someone who has never even gone top 15 in a crit? Why would you blow your wad chasing me down? Shouldn't you be letting me die out there, or trying to bridge up to start a break? Are you surprised when you blow up in the final lap, but not before giving a free leadout to a rider who has never lost a crit?

When one starts the race in first in the omnium standings, shouldn't one try to hold on to first? Keeping the race together meant conceding the win and the overall to the best sprinter in the field. Why not work to drop him? As it was, the marking didn't work too well - I was ahead into the last corner. If I had sat on for the full duration, instead of vaingloriously trying to race, I'd have been relatively fresh and maintained my lead - the odds are you'd have been bumped down even more.

That's how I remember it anyway.

That's cat 4 racing. My regret is not attacking more. The one place I should have attacked, but didn't, was over the top of the steep hill on lap 2 of the road race. It was the only part of the race where I went to the back to rest for a bit. Both the top 2 Omnium guys had been dropped and we allowed them to catch back on. Had I been able to fight my way to the front in time and pushed the pace for a minute, they would have been dropped to minor placings. With a conservative crit ride I could then have won the overall rather handily. But if you ever see me sitting in for the sprint, please shoot me.

Anyway, I was hoping to win enough to cover gas money and a six-pack. I failed. I need to drive a Prius and develop a fondness for PBR.

Some conversations:

Racer One: "I've seen you do that off the front thing in other races as well. Why do you do that?"
Carlos: "I'm not a sprinter. It's a race. You're supposed to race"
Racer One (with confused expression) : "Oh?"

Racer Two: "Those were some really strong pulls you took in the road race yesterday"
Carlos: "umm.. They were attacks actually" - (hangs head in shame and slinks away)

IL State RR - O'Fallon Grand Prix

2011-06-19T00:56:00.009-05:00

O'Fallon Grand Prix - Illinois State RR Champs
----------------------------------------------------------------------

After the Cat 4 fiasco of last year, and the predicted record temps for today, I wasn't too keen on doing this race. But it being only 3 hours away and being the State Championship, and being exceedingly well-organised, I felt obliged to support it. So off to O'Fallon I went, albeit somewhat unenthusiastically.

I got out of bed... many didn't.

It wasn't a strong field that lined up for our 2 lap, 50 mile race. Noone particularly strong from Chicago, bar one guy who I had been told was a good crit rider. I didn't know the STL guys, but there were 5 from Momentum and they're always strong riders with usually one good sprinter hidden in there somewhere.

We lined up, received the usual centerline and no passing the pace car orders and were off. Just after the first corner, into a mild grade, I took off. It wasn't planned but I often do this to test the legs - it acts as a good opener - and here I hoped to set the tone for the race with a fast tempo from the gun. I got a good gap, was able to choose my lines around a few corners and down a descent and settled into fast TT mode - on the edge of getting out of sight, out of mind. The legs didn't feel good though, I just wasn't spinning freely. After a couple of miles I noticed a rider trying to bridge up, I was happy to slow and wait for him, but the field sensed danger and closed him, and me down pretty quickly. Not to worry.

There was a solid crosswind on what seemed to be the majority of the course, so there was some guttering action going on. This made any break very hard to initiate, but at least it was pretty easy to move to the front if you wanted - it wasn't a popular position. The momentum guys went to the front and set a fast pace. I had a couple more digs when the pace slowed, but Momentum closed the gaps pretty quickly - I was guessing they were trying to set up a solo flyer of their own - anytime anyone tried to attack. They didn't attack, not sure what they were doing, but at least we managed to keep up a reasonable speed for the first lap. My attacks didn't get anywhere - legs never really opened up and I could feel the burn of the excess work, but I wasn't too concerned, my endurance is excellent these days and even my bad legs will usually get me to the end of the race in decent shape.

For the whole race I never dropped back further than about 8th place, and spent quite a few miles at or off the front. This costs a bit more energy, ut I felt it was worth it in that I could monitor any attacks, not get caught behind stupid crashes (which happened in 2009 in the last few miles), have a better choice of line through the 50 corners on the course and set tempo to suit myself if I wanted to. The other motivation for staying at the front was, after one hard effort I dropped to 2/3rds of the way back for a rest and the littering that was going on really got to me. Water bottles, half-eaten bars still in wrappers, used gels were being thrown into fields and ditches. Race organisers go to huge efforts to put on a much-needed road race and fools do their best to show disdain for our countryside and give killjoys an excuse to object to the running of the race next year. After bawling out a couple guys, I found myself starting to get really upset
about this, so I resolved to just ride near the front where I couldn't see the littering anymore and people might be a bit more interested in racing. I'm truly ashamed at the activity of some of my fellow riders - you know who you are!

We hit the feed zone at the start/finish line, I stayed to the left and out of the way, - you could have made a blooper highlight reel of all the missed hand ups - everyone was well-behaved and we sportingly regrouped to commence lap 2. The wind and temps had increased, it was over 100F on the road, and a lot of the fight had been knocked out of us. An unattached guy, I'm guessing a triathlete doing his first road race, took off at the same point that I attacked on the first lap. He wasn't going very fast, but we were going slower, and noone had any interest in chasing him down. I was sure that if I tried to bridge I'd get chased down, so if he felt he could solo 25 miles in that weather for the win I was happy to let him go for it. It took him quite a while to get out of sight, but out of sight he did go.

Strangely, all the Momentum guys retired to the back for the rest of lap 2. Not a lot happened. It was just too hot and windy. A couple of solo guys got bored and took long pulls, myself and a teammate got a good rotation going with two Team Mackers and started to make good time but noone else would pull through so we gave up after a few rotations. The single attack was from Todd from Team Mack, who took off over the top of a hill, put his head down and went for it. I was happy to let him go and did a false chase. Going fast enough to keep him in sight but messing with the tempo by doing a few false jumps out of corners and then soft pedalling a bit. If anyone wanted to catch him then they were more than welcome to come to the front and actually do some work. Todd wasn't able to last out there alone in the wind for very long and he came back to the group after a few minutes - but the increased pace and tempo changes had successfully burned off some of
the hangers-on.

Shortly after that we spotted the pace car up the road and we very gradually caught up to the solo guy, still plugging away optimistically. He had stayed out there for 15 miles. He then obligingly pulled us at a reasonable tempo for the next five miles or so.

By this time Death March 2011 was in full swing. The temp was hitting 105F on the road, we were all out of water, and the 100F wind was doing a fine job of parching us. The speed was getting slower, the wind was increasing - it just wasn't fun. I must have more Belgian in me than Spaniard - several times I contemplated calling it a day and just finding a nice shady tree to embrace and rest under. But then I started to notice the ever increasing tide-lines on the bibs of some of the other riders, even over a few minutes the extra salt loss could be seen. I looked around, some guys already had goose bumps. I was still sweating, had a couple of gulps of water left and my heart rate was under control - others were suffering more than me. What would Sean do? Gut it out - that's what!

About 2.5 miles to go we hit the last right hander on the course. I knew it was long straight to a windy descent, then on to the last hill and the turn onto the final straight. As we made the turn a gap formed and 6 riders went clear, I started to jump but felt, for the first time ever, my calves starting to cramp. I let a couple others come around me, jumped onto the back of them and closed to the first group. I shouted at the leaders to punch it, we did, and after a short effort the moto came around to sit on my wheel. Now we were ten, and with one slight acceleration had shed the rest of the field.

We kept a fast tempo, everyone's mind on the tactics for the finish. Some just hanging on, some waiting for the sprint, some planning to attack on the hill. Down into the valley we swooped, me at the back, and kept up the speed on the approach to the hill - too fast for me to make up any places. We hit the base of the hill and the group imploded. Gears grinding, pedalling squares, cursing. I worked my way gingerly up the white line, making my way past the popping riders, trying to get to the front before anyone got away. A big Team Mack guy had the same idea but decided to take route one into third place. The moto wasn't having any of this and, rather bizarrely, veered into the pack, grabbed the guy and told him he was DQ'd. This is with 700 m to go. It took a few seconds to negotiate past the slowing moto and confused Macker, with some riders forced to trackstand, and this gifted the front two a nice gap.

I hammered for all I was worth, but rounding the last corner with 500 m to go I was in third place, with 3 riders on my wheel, two of which had spent the full race in the back and out of the wind, and a good 4 second gap to the first two. I could have flogged myself silly to catch them but would then have been worthless in the sprint, as well as dragging up fresh riders to jump around me.

One of the first two was from STL, the 2nd was unattached, so the only choice was to concentrate on winning third place and hope none of those ahead were from Illinois.

400 m to go, I take a couple of seconds breather and then do a half-assed jump, two riders bit on it and came around. The second guy was whupped and couldn't pass, I tucked in behind the first, recovered for a second and started to come past as he faded rather quickly. Fooled you!

Then James Psimet, who definitely had done less work than anyone else in the race - it must have been a phenomenally boring 50 miles for him - flashed past. He got a good jump and a couple of bike lengths on me. But I still had 150 m to reel him in. This I duly did. I hammered as hard as anyone who's ever done a gruelling fifty miles in 100F has ever hammered, caught him with 20 m to go and beat him to the line by a full wheel, my 32 spoke box section rims to his fancy deep section carbon - didn't even have to use my bike throw!

As all this was going on I somehow was able to take in the sprint for first unfolding 60 yards ahead. The unattached guy got a nice gap then did something I have never seen a cat 2, 3 4 or 5 do. He did a backwards sprint - heading for the line, but looking back all the time, and whenever his chaser tried to close he simply accelerated just enough to maintain a nice 3 bikelength gap. The guy was ostensibly a cat 5 in his first race ever race, but it was pretty clear from the rather comfortable manner of the win that he had raced at an elite level at sometime in the past. You see this every now and then and USA cycling will never bother to be concerned about it. All the more reason to try harder and get enough points to upgrade.

Oh well! Turns out the unattached winner was from Chicago and thus claimed the jersey. Giving a State champ jersey for a developmental cat is a joke anyway. I wasn't too worried about that.

It would have been nice if the moto hadn't intervened to decide the first two places. Would have been great to contest the win, but that's racing. Stuff happens.

Pretty sweet that I was able to put in multiple attacks and chases in 100F temps and 15 mph wind, work hard at the front all day and still have enough left at the end to handily win the chase group sprint over a couple of (relatively) fresh-as-a-daisy riders at the end. That's encouraging.

Full credit to the organisers for a superbly-run day. Volunteers everywhere, great atmosphere and hotly-contested racing (pun intended). With the limited # of motos available it was a great idea for each pack to be joined by a moto for the last few miles - definitely made things safer and improved rider behaviour. Also, the additional 3 miles to each lap definitely made a difference. There were a couple more passing opportunities, and the extra 20 minutes of racing really starts to separate the men from the weenies when races do go over 2 hours in length.

It seems that if I dampen my expectations I tend to do better. I started the day with limited enthusiasm but came home with a solid result, some upgrade points, two nice medals (state and overall) plus enough $$$ to cover gas money and a six-pack. I'm happy.

Leland - FTW!

2011-04-25T23:02:00.015-05:00

The short version
-----------------------
I got out of bed.

He had a 12 tooth, I had an 11. I could spin faster.

In the final tailwind kilometer I rode one of the strongest riders in Chicago off my wheel for the win.

The long and involved version - read at your own risk
-------------------------------------------------------
I got out of bed...

Ok, backtrack a bit...

Leland Kermesse. In the same way that Paris Roubaix represents the gritty, blue collar-hardscrabble attitude of the North of France so does Leland represent Illinois - Pancake flat and featureless prairie, bowl-you-over windy, crappy dirt-with-aggregate roads. Toss in April weather, showers for two days previous, temp 40F and falling, and you’ve got a race just as hard in its own right as Paris-Roubaix, but different. This is becoming a classic

This race is Illinois. This race is not for namby-pambys. That's a contradiction.

Most of you will know Kevin's favorite Phil&Paul quote "and Sean Kelly wins bike races in weather you wouldn't send your dog out in!". Step that down five categories and about 200 watts, keep the weather, stick the finish to 1984 Paris-Roubaix on YouTube and enjoy the vicarious ride.

It began with the usual abysmal preparation. Decided to unmount my cross tubulars on Thursday night and glue up a pair of 25mm Vittoria tubies, never having ridden tubulars before. With the weather on Friday night I didn't get a chance to ride them. Also stuck on an 11-23 cassette to replace the 12-26. So no openers, no practice riding on a completely new tire system, derailleur not adjusted to new wheel and cassette. Bad idea.

Top that with not getting to sleep till 2 am, getting up at 6 in dog-awful weather, the usual late start, getting to the race just before registration ends and rolling up to the line with no warm up, a wild guess at tire pressure and having forgotten my booties - the omens were not good. But I got out of bed.. Many didn't.

Sometimes you're the hammer, sometimes you're the nail and sometimes you're the creaky floorboard that can't be fixed.

It's not a strong field. Plenty of solid riders but no stars. Bar Mike from Half Acre. Everyone knows that he's got a threshold about 20% higher than anyone else here. He lapped me at our last cross race. When he rolls up there's an amount of nudging and whispers of "that's the guy". We're racing for second today.

"Race in such a way as to win the prize” .. that's what I intend to do and what I always try to do.

45 starters get their instructions and off we go. Neutral rollout for a mile and then straight into a 20 mph headwind. The race strings out, riders are able to move up and back a bit. Nothing much happens. Good for me, I'm getting my warmup in.

The big guys go to the front. Mike is huge and muscular, there's the guy from Lamb Little, over 200 lbs, and a new guy from WDT, bigger than any racer I've ever seen, bigger than Magnus Backstedt even. A good choice of wheels to draft, at least.

Five miles in we turn into a crosswind, then a tailwind and the race ramps up. Two TT guys take off, get a small gap. Pace hots up, gaps are forming, riders get shelled and a lead group of 14 hit the first 3 mile gravel section into a brutal crosswind, me at the back.

The gravel has turned into soupy mud, no well-defined lines except for don’t ride near the verges or in the middle. The parts where the car tires roll is somewhat more defined, but not much. I’m slipping and fishtailing all over the place and not making much progress. But others are suffering more. It’s a matter of avoiding them, keeping the power down and jumping from left side to right side so as not to lose momentum. After a mile of this I find myself in about 5th wheel. There are two guys well off the front and two more vainly chasing, spaced out about 100 yards apart.

The road turns into a screaming headwind and the ground is slightly more firm. I jump past the first guy and punch it for a minute to hug the wheel of the next. It’s Magnus, all 250 lbs of him, someone turned off the wind. This is comfy. I peer around his massive torso into the wind and see that the gap to the two leaders has increased. Nothing for it but to bite the bullet. I jump into the wind, fishtail on some mush, lose speed and find myself in the draft again. Breathe deep, concentrate, and jump around. This time I find a firmer footing, and get by him. We’re side by side for a bit, I shift down one sprocket and pound the pedals. It takes me a mile and an all out max effort for 3 minutes but I close the gap to the front two and make the bridge just before we turn again into the crosswind and the last mile of this gravel section.

And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, was the race. I knew it, the pace car knew it, the other two in the break knew it and the guys chasing knew it. Two riders in the wind will find it difficult to maintain a gap. Three riders working well together, in a crosswind with a disjointed chase group, will not be caught. Seven miles in and fifty-three to go. Bridge completed. The podium has been decided.

The rest of the lap is a tailwind mile of road, crosswind mile of gravel, another mile of tailwind road and a third crosswind gravel mile before we start the lap again for the headwind death march.

Coming into gravel 2 I’ve had enough of a breather to start taking pulls. You couldn’t ask for two better breakmates. Mike is there driving the pace, of course, on his steel Courage with standard tires. Mike is ploughing and powering, I'm pounding and finessing. Matt from Verdigris is on a Ti moots, ultra expensive EDGE hoops and 32mm cross tubulars. He’s floating over the rough stuff but having difficulty on the tarmac. We quickly agree that he should take his pulls on the gravel and try to sit in a bit more on the road. We rotate smoothly and figure out a good formula. Punch it on the gravel and spin fast on the road. We cooperate well and midway through lap 2 all chasers are out of sight. At this stage Matt wants to drop off, his quads are cramping. We’re having none of it. Tell him to do what he can and not worry. He still wants to drop off. The holy name of Conant is invoked. That seems to work. What he doesn’t know is that we other two are also hurting and we need him for shelter. No way do we want to face five miles of headwind as just two riders. Hurts too much.

I notice that I’m riding gravel 3 a bit better than the others. It’s slightly uphill and a bit more firm. Seems to suit my tires and weight better than the others. This would be a good place to make a move. I’m gapping the others slightly in the tailwind sections as well. The tubular ride is superlative, I can never go back to clinchers after this.

Gravel riding - to each his own style: Mike's a Kayak. ploughing through the waves of mud and gravel. Telling all obstacles to get out of his way. Cutting through the mush to the more firm ground beneath. Matt's a catamaran. With his 32 mm cx tubies he's floating. I'm a canoe, doing my best to keep my weight back and keeping power constant, but having to finesse my way around and over the rougher and mushier spots, occasionally losing power and traction as I do.

Textbook:
Lap 1: Get in break
Lap 2: Establish
Lap 3: Maintain
Lap 4: Gloves off

And so it goes. Rotating well, riding smoothly and smartly. Nobody shirking pulls, nobody trying to outpull the other. Both riders are taller than me and give good drafts. No Dan Hills here. The temperature is still a reasonable 40F, we’re all overheating. The wind increases by 10 mph or so, which serves to dry out the worst parts, making the gravel much more rideable and further driving the nails in the coffin of any pursuers.

We hit lap 4. The temperature starts to plummet, wind increases some more, and sleet makes a furtive appearance. It’s understood that we’ll work together for the first half; when we exit gravel 1, with 7 miles of tailwind to home then all bets are off.

My glasses were so covered with gunk that I’ve had to throw them to a marshal on lap 2. From then on, I’m getting immense amounts of muck in my eyes, stinging like hell and dissolving into a brown paste. I’m seeing everything in sepia tones. The wind is freezing and drying my eyeballs. I can’t produce any tears to flush the gunk. The last two laps are an unfocused, brownish, painful blur. Very unpleasant.

We finish with gravel 1. From lap 2 my chain sounds like it’s going to give up the ghost anytime, with all the gunk piled on it. I ride through every puddle I can in order to splash as much water on the drivetrain as possible. I’ve also been practising working the full range of gears, just to make sure everything’s working. It’s not. 13 tooth or smaller are random to drop into. I ride the full race in the big ring, scared that if I ever drop it into the small chainring it may get stuck there. Lots of cross chaining involved. So be it.

Race so as to win the race. I can sit and wait for Mike to drop the hammer and watch him motor away, or I can do something about it. It’s early in the season. I’ve got lots of long rides in my legs already. My endurance is great. What about Mike’s? Him cramping up is probably my best chance. Time to mess with the tempo.

Finish of Gravel 1. Tailwind. I turn it on. No jump, just get low and spin. I build up a 50 yard gap into gravel 2. But Mike catches me quickly. We’ve dropped Matt though. No worries, he’s a lock for third place. He’s happy.

Recuperate a bit and jump for real this time. Get a small gap, but once you try to go above a certain speed it just gets extremely hard to go any faster. Mike closes with ease.

Shot my bolt and Mike has countered easily. Last road section before final gravel and we declare a truce. Empty our bottles, take a few breaths, do a Barack-Michelle terrorist fist bump. Nearly home.

Mike is probably the best-known crosser in Chicago. As much for his unmistakeable pain face as his cross prowess. The first sight of his pain face indicates the start of cross season. Known universally as "The Hemme" it's a combination of hanging jutted jaw, with a plastically molded doleful jowls and wild panicky eyes. It tends to creep in about lap 2 of a race. Once seen, never forgotten. A curious mixture of hang-dog and wild-horse, It's an expression for which the word lugubrious could have been invented.

I study Mike's face as we ride. No signs of "The Hemme". This is bad news! I’m getting depressed. It’s terrible riding next to someone who you know is just about to turn on the afterburners and leave you in their dust.

But it never came. Dunno why. Mike gets a big gap into gravel 3. I dig deep and grab his wheel after a tough minute. I intended to attack here but we’re going so fast that the extra effort is just too much. We ride side by side on the last section. I’m not going to show him any weakness. I start contemplating my last attack when the end of the gravel comes sooner than I expected. We make the turn for home.

Uh,oh! This is the finish. I haven’t tested my gears. Don’t know what to do. Think fast!

Mighty tailwind. Better drop it down a sprocket. She drops into the 13T. Do I just follow Mike’s wheel and hope he runs out of gas? Maybe he’ll be kidnapped by aliens? I drop behind Mike. We’re going a bit too slow for my liking. Better up the pace. That way he won’t be able to get the jump on me and I can grab his wheel when he blows by. One thing I’ve learned is, at the end of a hard race, don’t be shy about leading it out. You control the tempo to suit yourself. The others are probably hurting more than you anyway.

I take the lead, hug the white line to give minimum drafting advantage and up the speed. After a bit of jostling she drops into the 12 tooth. Up the speed some more. Now the vital part. Drop her down one more sprocket. Nothing doing. I jump on the pedals. Hop the bike slightly. Release the pressure. Click! Into the 11 tooth! Way-hey! Up the speed some more. Race to win the race - I’m not racing for second. I jump. Get a ten-meter gap. Put the head down and spin as fast as I can. Waiting for him to come by.

“He’s gonna blow by me! He’s gonna blow by me! He’s gonna blow by me!” Look around. I’ve got a gap of fifty meters. “He’s not going to blow by me! What’s going on? OK, where’s the finish line?” It hadn’t been marked when we started. I can see the Leland water tower in the distance so it must be somewhere before that. I don’t know if I can keep this up. Through the gloom and the brown haze I can see the unmistakable silhouette of Chief Ref Dave Fowkes’ shoulders and crewcut. I’ll guess that’s the finish. 300 meters or so to go. Look behind again. The gap is still the same. “Wholly Carp! I’m gonna win this thing!” Just put the head down and keep spinning. The gap increases....

Winning a masters 4/5 race is nothing to crow about. It officially makes you the king of the dipsticks. Today I will be King Dipstick; for the first time. No hooting and hollering, no chest-beating or fancy post-up as I cross the line. Just enough time to sit up and coast, acknowledging my audience of one by raising my hand, index finger erect to indicate my placing.

Relief. I expected it to be harder. Three seasons. No upgrade points. Best previous placing: eighth. Race to win the race.

5th hardest part of the race: Getting out of bed
4th hardest part: Making the bridge up to the lead two riders on the first gravel section. The only 'Vollgas' section of the race. Three minutes of pain followed by 3 hours of hard tempo. Solo chasers had it far worse.
3rd hardest part: Dealing with Belgian toothpaste in the eyes. Despite rinsing copiously I was seeing everything through a brown dirt fog for several hours afterwards. That hurt.
2nd hardest part: Getting the chain to drop into the 11 tooth for the finish.
1st hardest part: Trying to pee afterwards.

Amazing the effect that stress and adrenaline can have on the body. I crossed the finish ready for another lap and full of vigour. The next day I went out for an easy endurance ride and bonked within an hour. I got dropped on every ride that week. Recovery-schmovery, I guess I had dug deeper than I thought.

Remember the Phil&Paul quote? Here’s the corollary - "whenever a rider DNFs Sean Kelly cries"

I'd like to think that Sean is sitting in a smoky Belgian cafe right now, preparing to commentate on Liege-Bastogne-Liege. It’s pouring cats and dogs outside. He’s drinking a glass of Jupiler and he’s smiling.

The lad did good.

It was kinda like this, only muddier, with no spectators

Leland Kermesse Aftermath

2011-04-18T18:23:00.011-05:00

Ghost Bike

Ghost Rider

Envelope

Twitter Feed

-Leading masters 4 5. Long line in the gutter. 1 mile in

-Break of 3 and 2 bridging. Masters 4 5. #Lelandkermesse

-Trio of leaders have good formula. Kill it first 2 gravel sections. Then settle in and cooperate Fireworks next lap #Lelandkermesse

-Our 3 leaders now taking on Km 75 thru 100. Lots of brave souls riding alone. #Lelandkermesse

-Windy and down to 40 F. At the #Lelandkermesse Riders are going hard and slow.

-Our 3 masters are shaking hands taking fluid fixing shoes. Ready to hit their 10 th gravel section du jour #Lelandkermesse

-2 masters still cooperating. 1/2 lap remain #Lelandkermesse

-Here we go. Masters 4 5. Gloves are off on gravel 2. #Lelandkermesse

-Hemme and proctor rider have dropped the Verdi Gris.

-They fist pump before the last gravel. And. It's on. Hemme all over his bike with 3 Jm to go #Lelandkermesse

-@chenzy007 The proctor rider wins the drag race. Mast 45. #Lelandkermesse

Edited from http://twitter.com/#search?q=%23lelandkermesse by Matt of Bike Heaven.

The Knowledge: Part 2

2011-04-17T14:10:00.003-05:00

A multi-step program to winning races

Step 1: Get out of bed.

A lot of people fail at step 1.

Step 2: Finish your race.

Everytime a rider DNFs it makes Sean Kelly cry.

Works for me.

Huh?

2010-11-07T00:30:00.004-05:00

I told them I don't deserve it, neither did I ask for it. But the results got corrected and this arrived in the mail last week.

Sometimes just turning up is half the battle. Sometimes turning up and finishing is it all.

The Knowledge: Part 1

2010-10-20T18:37:00.005-05:00

I've seen a lot of this on the Internet.

Inverse proof by self-coprologisation:

A: "I claim such and such a thing."
B: "I don't agree, but I'm a piece of crap!"
C: "It's self-evident that you are not a piece of crap, therefore A is wrong and A must be a piece of crap."
B: "Thank you, C!"(with coprophagic grin).

Now you know how to win an argument on the 'net; and simultaneously call the other party a piece of crap without calling him a piece of crap.

Breathing Underwater in Steamboat

2010-09-09T23:47:00.013-05:00

Greetings from Steamboat Springs. A large and expensive ski town lying at nearly 7000 ft in NW Colorado.

Steamboat Springs Stage Race (www.bikesteamboat.com)

Drinking gallons of water and peeing like a racehorse every hour on the hour to avoid the threat of dehydration.

Short version:

Day 1: TT. Ran out of Oxygen after 100 yards. Not good.

Day 2: Circuit race: Stayed with lead group. Ran out of oxygen on final hill. Into GC top 10.

Day 3: Road race: Stayed with lead group. Ran out of oxygen on final hill. Retained GC place.

Day 4: Crit: Blacked out on OTF effort. Finished in pack. Retained GC place.

Longer version:

Day 1: Cycling through Glue. Breathing Underwater at 7000 ft.

Friday was a 3 hour drive to Steamboat, then a rush to register and get bike together for the prologue TT. No TT rig but I managed to bring along an aero helmet and skinsuit, mounted clipons to the bars and dropped the stem as low as it would go.

Seems like a waste to have people take a day off for a 13-15 minute race, plus forcing people to bring along two bikes - discouraging carpooling. Might be better to run another competition as well, e.g. Street Sprints for time bonuses, and to do the TT Eddy Merckx style.

10k course. 8k Undulating out and back followed by a 2k 5% uphill.

Just couldn't get warmed up. I'm already breathing underwater after about 100 yards. Feels like I'm cycling through glue, have to drop down two gears below where I need to be.

Hit the turnaround at halfway and have made up no time on my 30 second man. Manage to recover slightly with a slight tailwind and get into something resembling a groove (although still in a stage of controlled hypoxia). Make up maybe 5 seconds as we hit the base of the climb. Keep shifting gears trying to find my happy place and alternating between bars, hooks and drops, I start to make up some time. 500 meters to go and I dump the chain down 3 gears, get in the aerobars and hammer as hard as I can. The finish catches me by surprise but I catch and pass my rabbit with a couple of yards to spare.

Not very happy with this effort - I know I can do a lot better. Well down on GC.

Hacked up half a lung afterwards.

Flatted a latex tube just after crossing the finish line

Day 2: Railing switchbacks moto-style. Whooping cough at 7000 ft

Bust the last of my latex tubes pumping it up before the start. Got there in good time so no problem changing it out.

Saturday was a 29 mile circuit race on an unbuilt housing development. Nice closed course, nothing there but several miles of immaculate private road. One steep climb, one mile long followed by a helter skelter careening descent, a little bit of flat, a few more hills, another fast winding descent, followed by a long false flat in a cross wind to the base of the hill. 6.5 laps of a a 4.5 mile course, 500 ft of climbing per lap. Yes, that's 500 ft per lap.

Each lap I'm surprised that they don't call EMT everytime I crest the hill. I sound like a whooping cough victim. Might be contagious.

First time down the descent and I get gapped badly and have to pin it just to catch. Not fun. Manage to figure it out for the next laps. Drop it into the 53*11 and pedal hard whenever you get the chance, close any gaps immediately. My new Giant frame railed the downhills at close to 50 mph and 45 degree angles on the turns. What a rush.

First 3 times up the hill and I'm suffering. Barely hanging on - using the descent for recovery. Then the legs start to open up and I feel progressively better. Front group is opening a gap on the field each time. 4 laps to go I crest 12th, then 8th, then 6th. Bell lap - I'm in 4th and 6 of us have a gap of several seconds over what remains of the decimated field. Two fast descenders catch us on the downhill and we hit the flat as a group of 8 on each of the last two laps - including 3 riders from the local team. All that has to happen is that we drill it for 2 minutes and the GC for the race is decided. Instead the 3 local riders go to the front and set an easy tempo - 10 riders catch on before we hit the hill again.

This was a big mistake and it cost that team. They were obsessed with racing for places - it's a stage race, places don't matter, time does.

Last lap and we scream down the descent. One guy gets gapped off the front and goes for it, nobody chases. I take one strong pull but nobody comes around. Not up to a flatlander to do all the work. We give the win to the OTF guy - fair play to him for giving it a go - wouldn't happen in Illinois.

Ten more guys catch on before the final hill. Yes, they will be dropped, but will only lose 20-30 seconds instead of the several minutes they would have if we had tried to drill it earlier.

Halfway up the hill and the pace reaches frantic level. Ten of us left. 3 guys jump away, I try to follow them but simply can't take in enough oxygen and my legs seize up. Nothing I can do. I still have a lock on 5th place though. 400 m to go and my gears start spontaneously shifting. I upshift, downshift - nothing works. Have to drop it into the 39*15 before the chains stays steady. Lose about 15 seconds and 3 places. Jump into top 10 on GC.

Final climb - desperately trying to find a stable gear and losing places

pic by fitzgerald photography

Steamboat Pilot video

Day 3: Going hypoxic in 45 mph crosswinds. Death wobble at 7000 ft;

50 mile road race, Horseshoe shaped course. 27 miles out, 22 miles back. A mere 3500 ft of climbing.

Afternoon winds got up to over 30 mph with gusts over 45 mph. Developed death wobbles several times in crosswinds on hairy descents. Had to hang at back for safety's sake. Outward leg was mostly head and crosswind, pack kept together. Lots of competition for a good draft. One crash when competition for the white line got a bit too competitive.

About 3 miles into race I jump off the front to test the legs. Get a gap but start to hyperventilate. 1 other guy (Casper Wheelmen) jumps onto my wheel. Conversation as follows:

Me - "Pull through! (gasp)"
Casper guy - "I can't"
Me "Why not? (gasp)"
Casper: "You're Carlos, right? I'm working for my teammate, Can't risk you getting away. I'm just going to sit on your wheel."
Me: "That's the end of (gasp) that then" ...And I sit up.

Apart from the time Dan Hill nicknamed me "Ekimov", this is the highest cycling compliment anyone has ever paid me. It's official - I am now a GC threat!

Took me 30 minutes to recover from that effort.

About 5 miles before the turnaround the field gets gapped on a vicious crosswind descent. Only myself and another guy catch on. The field is now down to 25 riders. One huge TT guy goes OTF and and out of sight. We know he's extremely powerful but not a good climber. He stays out there for nearly 20 miles.

Hit the turnaround and feed zone and it's more uphill than downhill on the home stretch - but still all crosswind. I take care to find a good draft and stay in the first echelon.

3 miles out, 20 to go, I find myself gapped off the front. I punch it a bit to see what would happen. This initiates 20 miles of eyeballs out, punch and counter-punch, no-respite aggressive racing. Fun times.

My attack gets dragged back quickly, another guy counters, noone responds and he takes off to bridge to the solo guy. In a magnificent effort he catches him, they work together for 10 miles, he drops him and soloes home the final few miles for an amazing win, securing the GC overall in the process.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, we're attacking each other like crazy, really booking it at speeds of up to 50 mph in tailwind and 5 mph downhill in a headwind. Gaps are forming and being closed down. Alliances formed and severed. I look behind and the group is down to 14. A few more miles and we're down to 10.

The GC leader attacks to save his lead, we reel him in after a couple of miles. Hitting the first of a series of hills we catch the first OTF guy and feel it's only a matter of time before we reel in the other guy. He's got a lead of about a minute. Hit another hill and the group detonates. Down to 8. Get gapped in a crosswind, fight back on, hit another hill, and the man with the hypoxic hammer strikes. The legs lock up. I'm only two seconds behind a group of 4 but it might as well be two hours. No way can I close it and they ride away from me.

The last hill I expected to be a couple of miles long. The other riders are only about 30 seconds ahead. I settle in, find my happy place and wait for the guys in front to blow up. Round the first corner there's a line of cars, someone shouts 200 meters, the line is right there. Race over. No signage, no nothing. All a bit sudden.

Field blown to smithereens. They straggle in over the next 30 minutes. I vault over 3 guys but 3 others vault over me. Retain same place in GC.

Only hack up a 1/4 lung this time.

Yet another mechanical - loose front hub causing death wobble.

Day 4: Breaking wind is hard to do. Blacking out at 7000 ft.

Image Eddie Clark- Mountain Flyer

Downtown crit. 40 minutes. Classic rectangular Midwest-style crit. Easy-to-pedal corners. Kicker hill plus false flat into strong headwind to finish line.

First 10 minutes were among my hardest 10 minutes on a bike. Going hypoxic each time up the kicker. Hanging on for dear life at the back. Finish with the pack and I keep my GC place - get gapped and I'm out of the money.

After ten minutes things slow down. GC is already decided. Everyone knackered. Gentleman's agreement not to attack except to sprint for primes. That's ok by me.

I recover. 3.5 laps to go and I sneak off the front. Noone reacts. I punch it into the headwind and 500 m finishing straight. Get a big gap ~ 15 seconds. Noone chases. Now's my chance for everlasting glory - just keep this gap for 3 quick laps and the win is mine. I punch it up the hill ... and start to black out. It was the definition of the CBDHS (Crash & Burn Dan Hill-style). Can't finish when you're lying in the ditch. I sit up, let them catch me and finish the race mid-pack.

If I was living at 6000 ft instead of 600 the story might be different.

All in all: more good luck than bad. Top 5 in GC. Ok for a flatlander. I'll take it. My best result ever.

Steamboat Pilot video
CO races always have a good emphasis on safety and are blessed with excellent officials. I like that. CO has famously poor payouts, but this doesn't deter half a dozen pros and a 13 times womens world champion (Jeannie Longo) from coming out and racing the excellent courses. I like that also.

Still a Thrill!

Ronald Reagan Criterium 2010

2010-08-31T21:59:00.011-05:00

Dixon, IL

I remember the 80s as a mostly dismal decade of Greyness, unemployment, blue eyeshadow, perms and shoulder pads. Musically, there was a golden age from 1978-83, then it all started to go horribly wrong. The charms of the Linn drum machine waned, to be replaced by hollow formula music and computerised farting.

Amongst those memories, Ronald Reagan stands prominent. In my opinion he was one of America's worst presidents. In foreign relations he did great harm to America's reputation in the world. Before Ronnie most of the world actually liked America. After Ronnie and his innovative policies, America's name was dirt. By effectively codifying the Fifth Freedom - the right to screw over your fellow man unimpeded - he initiated an era of naked Capitalism that made us feel good about ourselves for being selfish and greedy. We're still paying the price, both politically and economically, for his presidency.

That said, Ronnie was certainly no elitist. From a humble upbringing, he is probably the last American President not to graduate from Yale or Harvard, was president of a union, and certainly didn't care about your background as long as you could screw people over better than the next guy; and make money doing it. He also was The Great Communicator - he could tap into a place in the hearts and minds of the American people that no other post-war president could find and sell his city-on-the-hill hokum to great effect.

What's this got to do with bike racing? Not much, but it wasn't enough to put me off participating in the Ronald Reagan Memorial Crit in Dixon, IL (his hometown) last Saturday. I already had done the Hooverfest race (commemorating an underrated President) so I might as well do this one. Smalltown races are the best anyway.

The race was well-organized, reasonable entry fees (with a nominal $10 for a second race), safe, with plenty of volunteers and top notch race commentary. It received a deserved boost in attendance. Due to downtown reconstruction the 0.8 mile course was somewhat changed, L-shaped, it was faster and eliminated a couple of sketchy corners. Running it clockwise and moving the start/finish line meant that the roughest portions were uphill and the finish was safer. The main feature was a bumpy rise into a headwind, good to launch an attack, followed by two corners and a long tailwind section to a slight rise to the finish, all the corners were wide, so accordeons were not played much today.

Masters 4/5: About 30 starters. Cat 4s don't really start to tire until 25-30 minutes, so a 30 minute race is always going to be difficult for a non-sprinter like me. The first 10 minutes were the usual over enthusiastic surges at the back, so much so that I chose to tailgun it for several laps, moving up to the middle when the panic had died down and everyone was a bit more used to the course. After 15 minutes nothing much had happened, I sensed the pack start to slow a bit and started to move to the front to see what was going on. Just then the announcer announced a prime for a 20-pack of something or other. It had to be beer! So I hammered it off the front, got a gap, maintained it for the lap and sprinted for all I was worth for the last couple of hundred yards, just to ensure that no-one surprised me at the line. Noone did and I won my first ever prime.

Had a big gap with noone chasing. Might as well go for it. Stayed out there for 6 laps but needed 7. They let me hang as I expected them to. The time gap decreased then increased, but never more than about 12 seconds. I put myself in too deep a hole going for the prime, never properly recovered, and it was controlled pain management and oxygen deficit disorder until I succumbed. I did manage to pick up a second prime for my trouble though. Being in front meant that I could choose the best lines and pedal through all the corners, which was a lot of fun, but only prolonged the agony. Meanwhile, the Cat 4s did what Cat 4s do best - nothing - and they caught me coming up to the bell. I retired to mid-pack which is where I finished.

Had I measured out my effort a bit better, I could maybe have surprised them, or at least forced them to work, but it was another Cat 4 criterium condensed to a 20 second effort.

Zero attacks, initiative or willingness to work.

1st half of race 24.5 mph, 2nd half 25.3 mph.

Open 4/5: More of the same. Several solo OTF efforts left to dangle. At least 3 or 4 people turned up to race anyway. I made several abortive efforts that didn't get anywhere. One half lap effort getting hauled back by an unattached rider who then sat up. Found that a bit strange.

With 5 laps to go they announced a prime for a Ronald Reagan T-shirt. Nothing, not even the guy 15 seconds off the front, was going to stop me from getting that T-shirt. I just wanted to see the look on Mrs F's face when I presented her with the special prize I won for her.

I launched up the hill, railed the corners and put it in the 53*12 for the last 300 meters. Caught the leader with yards to spare and snagged my prize. Ok, that done, time to work together and set up a break.

I zoomed around turn 1, ready to get organized .. and started retching violently. Ok, forget about the break. Time to recover. Apologies to Eric of BH for getting his hopes up.

The pack caught me, I tried to latch on but only managed to get on the very back. 3 primes in a row kept the pace high so no recovery for me. It was a full field, apart from the two guys who nearly killed themselves in a collision when sprinting for a pack of Jelly Bellys, that started the last lap together when the pace eventually ramped up. I managed to move up to halfway for the final corner, but the larger field meant more chances to hide for the sit-ins and too many fresh legs made it was a much faster sprint than the previous race.

These races were notable for the complete lack of aggression and willingness to work shown by the riders. Honestly, why do you race? If you weren't hanging on at the back for dear life it was easy to get to the front and make things happen. I race with the hope of getting better, going faster, trying to learn and enjoy. If I don't learn from a race I don't enjoy it, and I don't get better.

If you come in with complete lack of ambition, with the intention of feeling good about yourself by not getting dropped, staying anonymous mid-pack for the duration, laughing at those who give it a go and then handing the top spots to the three pure sprinters and the couple other strong 500m effort guys in the field - what's the point? Why not stay at home and wrestle with your granny for control of the remote? You may not have a greater chance of winning but at least it will fulfil that competitive edge that you fail to bring to a bike race. I have DFL'd more races than I can count, but I have never turned up to a race with the intention of not racing and not doing my best. How many of the Illinois Cat 4s can say that?

That said. Very enjoyable event. Great atmosphere. Can only get bigger.

That 20-pack? Laxatives, I think. Same effect as the Ronnie shirt.

My wife's reaction when I presented her my very special prize? Let's just say that I'm glad I built a very luxurious doghouse - that's where I'm writing this right now.

Iowa State Road Race 2010

2010-08-09T23:52:00.013-05:00

{Insert smartass remarks about Herbert Hoover, Hooverfest, Hooverball, Great Depression etc and draw ludicrous analogies to bike racing}

Last year this was the hardest race I had ever done. 25 mph ave speed in 25 mph cross winds. I got dropped with a few miles to go. No-holds-barred survival of the fittest. The way a state road race should be.

I've always enjoyed racing in Iowa. Friendly folks who race hard. So I was really looking forward to the 2010 edition and a break from the lame Cat 4 groupthink that Chicago has brought to a fine art. Unfortunately, the virus has spread.

Nice course. Roads in superb condition. Lots of rollers but only 1 significant hill. 27 mile rectangular loop with every side exposed to a crosswind, it seemed.

Very poor turnout. For such a well-organised race, with low entry fee, wheel trucks, lead car, motos, and the support of the locals, only 20 Iowa cat 4s bothered to turn out to honour their State Championship. Throw in a few out-of-staters and the peloton started only 25 strong.

Neutral rollout out of town and my teammate breaks his right shifter - he's stuck in the 11T for the next 54 miles and a choice of either 39 or 53 to pair with it. This is a big blow, because he's very strong and is always up for an attack. Between the two of us we could really have made our mark on the race. Instead he's forced to go to the front and set tempo at a pace he can handle and make sure to get a clear shot at all the downhills to minimize the out of the saddle mashing on the ascent. Didn't stop several others from closing down any gaps he got, even though everyone knew his predicament.

Not a huge team presence, 6 from New Pi, 3 Dice and 3 Rasmussen plus a mish-mash of all the other Iowa teams. New Pi sent several riders on off-the-front efforts while the other two teams did nothing, not even chasing, until the last mile.

The rain came down with varying intensity over the duration. It was welcome, cooled us down and made me homesick. The wind was mild, maybe 10 mph, strong enough to make solo breaks too hard but not enough to make guttering worthwhile, or to have any wear and tear on the pack.

Not much noteworthy during the race. I tried several off the front efforts but got chased down. Also attempted several bridges to solo breaks - jump for 10 seconds, get a gap, strong 30 second effort to get on first guy's wheel, look behind, find the pack on my heels, pull off, pace immediately slows down. This happened several times, so I gave up and resolved to let any solo attacks ride away if they could.

Strange thing is that every roller and hill was hammered at a huge effort, then we would slow down again until the next hill. Given the lack of work being done, most legs were still fresh enough to do this, even after 50 miles. So much so that we succeeded in dropping exactly zero riders.

The order of the day was neutralize any bridge attempt, then slow the race to a manageable pace - manageable often being 19 mph or so. Don't know why this is considered a racing tactic, you're basically handing the race on a plate to the 2-3 real sprinters who are hiding mid-pack and laughing away at all the fools marking each other out, knowing full well that they'll come out to play when the finish line looms and their fresh legs will ride away from the rest.

It's a state championship - honour it. If you don't want to race then at least give those who came to race a chance. Tootling along at pedestrian pace and sprinting up the occasional hill does not make you a racer or the event a race.

After all the abortive solo attacks, bridging efforts and, out of boredom, keeping the pace up at the front - my legs were pretty much toasted. Heart Rate was remarkably low but power was either recovery/endurance effort or way anaerobic. Far too many matches burnt. Nothing much else happened. We had a few heavy rain showers and a few more abortive solo breaks left to dangle until we finally made the turn for home.

The last four miles is the best feature - a drawn-out drag race. Narrow road, gradual uphill, a few rollers and a crosswind, with the last 500 meters being about a 3% grade to the finish line. I fought hard to make my way up to the front and stay there. There were plenty of wheels jockeying to get into the 5 man paceline at the front. I opted to ride mostly parallel, soaking up more wind but better positioned for the inevitable swarm.

I managed to maintain about 6th position, with a good line of riders following my wheel, but none opting to try to come around. The pace was gradually upping the closer we got to the finish and plenty of digs were required on the mild rollers in order not to fall back.

With about 600 meters to go the shenanigans started. Too many fresh legs who had done no work. A few riders tried to bully their way past me, I was ready and jumped to counter. A junior who, several people noted, had problems riding a bike straight tried to sprint past but only managed to smash his bars into my hip (I have the bruise to prove it). No danger to me but I had to slow down a bit to steady him up and prevent him from crashing. A few riders got past me - now relegated to about 12th.

We hit the feed zone at the base of the hill, the riders in front fan out and the sprint is on. I do what I can on the uphill but it isn't much - the legs hurt like heck. I have to wait for those in front of me to blow up, which they do, and I pass them in the final yards to sneak into the top 10.

Top 10 in a state championship is nothing to be ashamed of, but I'd much rather be dropped from a hard race than get a respectable finish in a lame one.

In retrospect, I regret not trying harder in the last couple of miles, I should have worked harder to stay in the top 3 wheels. It wasn't as hard as I expected. I've learned that, when it's a relatively difficult approach to the finish, position is everything - it's difficult to get swarmed; the guys who work to stay at the front are the ones who finish on the podium. Try harder, finish higher.

If I had sat in the whole race and just some to the front for the last couple of miles I would easily have been in the money places and maybe top 3. But if you ever see me sitting in for the sprint... please shoot me.

One thing I have to note were the guys headbutting each other in the sprint Cavendish-Renshaw style and boasting about it afterwards. Moronic.

Anyway, great venue and organisation. Glad to be able to support it. Iowa City Cycling Club do a great job. Pity that a State Championship couldn't be raced a bit more positively, but my fault for expecting anything better. Oh well, riding in the rain was exhilarating and the last three miles were am enjoyable, intense headrush.

Of course the top finishers were the guys who did no work and made no contribution. That's Cat 4 racing - hand the win to a guy with a decent sprint and feel good about yourself because you didn't get dropped.

For the powergeeks: 2:17:45, 23.4 mph, Ave HR 140 bpm (very low). AP: 215W NP: 275W, 57% recovery/endurance/coasting, 27% supra max (too high). Very little time spent at threshold or race pace.

Last 3 miles, 27 mph, 302 W. Uphill Sprint: 460 m, 35 seconds, 31 mph, 510 W (low)

{Insert more smartass remarks about Herbert Hoover, potatoes and draw more ridiculous analogies to bike racing}

Mississippi Bluffs Road Race

2010-08-04T22:45:00.013-05:00

Mississippi Bluffs road race is one of those goofy-charming events that ABR occasionally throws up. I like the loop a lot. 3 miles or so of narrow quiet roads with a bit of sand and gravel and quite a few twists. Onto a wide straight section that leads into a screaming safe downhill to a sharp right hander immediately followed by a long, two-tier 5% hill, a few minor rollers, a short steep hill and a long, exposed gradual descent to a narrower road with a couple of right handers and slight uphills. The finish is tricky; a steep 1/4 mile hill, descent and a 500m 2% grade to the finish line. Jump on or before the hill and try to hold the gap into the wind for a mile, hammer it as soon as you see the finish in the distance and risk giving a free leadout to the others or running out of gas, or wait until 200 m to go to sprint and risk getting caught out and starting too late. No perfect way to do it - depends on your own strengths and the dynamics of the group.

Anyway, of the 15 miles in the loop about 2/3rd is good quality roads with a hard shoulder, 5 miles or so are 2 lane blacktop with no shoulder and occasional sand and gravel. A few hundred feet of climbing per lap is enough to sap the legs after a few laps, combined with the ample heat, tail and crosswinds there are plenty of chances to attack; and once a well-organised break gets away - it's not coming back.

Previous years the race had only been two laps, not long enough to drop anyone - and it had all been decided in a mile-long drag race to the finish. So when I saw that this year's race would have 4 laps for the open and 3 for the masters I was excited. That extra length, combined with the course, would make it a lot more testing and should provide for a challenging and enjoyable race.

Being ABR, things like the centerline rule, littering and other such inconsequential rules are pretty much left up to the honor of the riders. As long as they're not too grossly violated don't expect anyone to care. Oh, and expect a two week wait for results.

Donnie and his Dicecyling crew had put a lot of work into the race over the past few years, combine that with a bargain $20 entry fee (half that of superweek) and the lack of available Road Races - this event was one that I was determined to support.

By some unfortunate scheduling, there was also a MTB event taking place nearby that drew away riders and volunteers. The DOT also decided to carry out some last minute roadworks on two sections of the course. Full credit to Donnie for taking this in his stride and sweet-talking the DOT and Police forces to cooperate. It all ran smoothly and the road crews very graciously gave us right of way when safe - it never proved to be an issue.

The race itself tends to attract mainly older masters. It's one of the few that attracts appreciable turnout for 50+, and 60+ and even a few 70+. Numbers vary a lot. Very few Iowa riders are familiar with ABR and the level of open, junior and Women riders tends to vary in some weird random fashion. Last year there were a fair number of juniors and ladies, this year only one lady. Numbers were down a bit - partly due to the crazy MTB conflict, but mainly because of the weather - many didn't fancy a 60 mile race in a heat index of 100F+. Neither did I, but it's not enough to stop me from racing.

Although I would have been better suited to the masters, I registered for the 1/2/3/4 opens because some teammates were going to come along and we were all going to race together. They never showed, so when the open cat assembled we were 13 strong - three Cat 1/2s, eight Cat 3s and just two 4s. Had I known this I would have registered as a 3 in order to make it a better race.

First lap was pretty chill. Everybody was aware of the heat and rode sensibly. I, along with several other, started with 4 full bottles. The pace was moderate bar a few crazy-fast accelerations injected by the 1/2 guys. I've never encountered this in a cat 4 or master's race. I guess this is how the fast guys race. Everybody held on, bar James from ABD who flatted, and almost everybody (with one dishonorable exception) took their fair share of pulls.

Second lap was the same, easy with a couple of scary pace changes thrown in. Mid way through I had a bit of luck, we had come over the longish two-tier hill and hit a sharp 1/4 mile kicker into a headwind. I was first wheel and hit it at a fair, but non-blow up pace. Halfway up a train of 5 riders come past me, the pace was high and I was hurting, so was tempted to save some energy and sag to the back. I thought better of it, swallowed the pain and jumped on. Lucky I did. We hit a wild 30+mph over the top and kept it up for several minutes. I hung on. When things calmed down I looked back and we had shed maybe a third of the group.

Just before the start of Lap 3 two riders jumped on the hill, a third bridged, and they were away. After we figured out that they were the three 1/2 guys everyone else was content to fight out the cat 3s amongst themselves. It would have been tempting to try to bridge, but I doubt if the others would let me go.

Lap 3 we kept up a reasonable pace in the heat and rotated through smoothly - no more crazy pace changes. At this stage it became clear that one rider from PACT was not working and ticking everyone off. Everytime he'd get to second wheel he'd languidly drop off and fall to the back - usually over the yellow line if it kept him out of the wind. In a group of half a dozen those shenanigans become embarrassingly obvious. A number of people spoke to him but it was a waste of time. He'd feign lack of understanding and start rubbing his calves in fake-cramp mode.

James who flatted was still out there two laps later. A teammate, the only lady rider, stopped and gave him a tube, I believe.

Mindful of the possibility of being caught by dropped riders, I kept the pace high the couple of times it flagged. The smaller the group the better for me. Turning the corner in to the wind another rider dropped off from heat/exhaustion. We were down to 5.

A mile into lap 4 we came upon one of the cat 1/2 guys with a flat. The XXX rider, who had been riding strongly, then dropped out and told us to continue on - down to 4. At this stage I knew I'd be able to make it to the finish and wasn't worried about being dropped or not. Two of the others started laying down sudden jumps to try and drop the wheelsucker. Didn't do it very well though. The first guy would get a gap, I wouldn't react, the 2nd guy would then lay down some power to bridge up with the wheelsucker on his wheel. This happened several times, the other two taking turns jumping but then dragging the wheelsucker back up with them each time. Seemed like a good way to wear yourself out. Not once did they succeed in forcing him to expend any extra energy. I told them that it would be much better if they both jumped simultaneously while the wheelsucker was on my wheel, thereby forcing him to chase, but they didn't seem to get it.

This went on for a few miles until a rider joined us from behind. It was the Cat 1 with the flat, XXX had sportingly given him his wheel and he had buried himself to catch us. We started rotating smoothly, minus any help from our PACT friend of course. As he was clearly a musclebound sprinter type the best chance to put some hurt on him was on a hill. I went to the front and killed it up the sharp hill where we had dropped a few riders two laps previously. Got a gap on him, crested the hill and yelled at the next guy to pull through to hammer it - he promptly eased off and it was gruppo compatto again. That was the end of that. I then got an earful from the Cat 1 for not rotating smoothly. Sorry man! I guess you know better - not your personal leadout train quite yet.

Nothing much happened on the rest of the lap. We had some fun trying to get the sprinter dude to go to the front - at one stage he ended up there by accident and we all eased off to leave a gap. He slowed down and started to rub his calves somewhat worriedly. Nearly fell off our bikes laughing.

Curiously dysfunctional group - wheelsucking got to a couple, I was mad about littering, another guy mad about a flat and a missed win and everyone put in bad temper by the heat. We didn't work together well.

It was clear that the cat 1 guy was much stronger than anyone else, but I'd fancy my chances one-on-one against any of the other three riders. In a group though my function is usually to come second last in any sprint situation - much like CBR Luke in that respect. It would be fun to be in a break with him to see who would come last or who would try to break off the front the earliest.

I thought there would be a chance that the others might mark each other out, so I jumped about 1/2 a mile before the last steep hill. Unfortunately, I had forgotten that there was still $30 on the line for 3rd place. The Cat 1 wasn't having any of it and he chased me down, dragging the others back up.

We hit the hill with a mile to go. Last year I got jumped and gapped on this hill, so I kept a strong pace up the ascent. Nobody came around. Kept the speed up on the downhill without straining myself - nobody came around. Hit the uphill with 500 meters to go and I punched it. After 60 miles in sweltering heat I had only 10 good seconds in me when I needed 40. They came around me with 350 m to go. Cat 1 winning the sprint easily for 3rd, with the PACT guy, whose cramps had mysteriously vanished, sucking his wheel all the way for the Cat 3 win. Then a big gap to the Cat 3 junior, another gap to me, and an even bigger gap to the last Cat 3 of our bunch who blew up even worse than I did. Second last in the group again!

6th overall. Three 1/2s and two Cat 3s ahead of me. 12 or 13 starters, 8 finishers.

Didn't really feel the heat until the last couple of miles - then was quite overcome - couldn't even talk. Stripped off as much as I could dare and headed for the pump for an improvised standing shower. Cooled down after a while, exchanged a few war stories, thanked the organizer for all his good work and hightailed it for home.

For powergeeks - time 2:43:24, 61.17 miles, 22.5 mph, AP 214 W, NP 261 W. HR 157 bpm. IF .886 - fairly mellow race with some strong surges, indicative of the heat and riding in a chase group with no incentive to really push it.

There were some problems with the results, but they got changed after a couple of emails. Fun race, great course, deserves support, roll on next year.

What I am going to get worked up about is this - Littering! There were two riders in my group who had no problem with throwing their gel wrappers into the ditch and launching water bottles into a hedge. I know who you are, you know who you are. You got some abuse from more than one rider because of it but ignored everything. I can give you all the cliches about coming over and dumping all my trash on your lawn, or how you are doing your best to destroy the few road races we have. The cliches are still true. Just because it's ABR and you would probably have to shoot an official to get DQ'd does not make it alright. Any rider who litters is contemptible and does not have my respect as a rider or a human being. Sound harsh? It's supposed to!

First Road Payout

2010-07-22T00:53:00.000-05:00

Always a thrill to get a check!

State Crit - Peoria Cycling Classic

2010-06-29T18:22:00.012-05:00

A lot of updates due on this blog, might as well do them in reverse.

The Peoria Cycling Classic has got to be the best club-organized cycling event in the state. Close to 100 volunteers, run like clockwork, smooth registration, great course and the only chance to race through closed streets in a real downtown - particularly impressive to pull it off with no significant sponsorship. It's also the State Crit Championships. As such, it's disappointing that it doesn't get a better attendance - it certainly deserves better. Teams that turned out in force were Mack, XXX, Burnham and SCW - lots of bigger teams out there that don't seem to value a top-notch course and a State Championship very highly. But, I'm biased.

The course itself is a 1 mile figure 8 with one loop about twice as long as the other. Very wide streets, no sharp corners and a deceptive elevation change that can really sap the legs after 15-20 trips around. The defining feature is a long back stretch into a headwind, turning into a sharp rise then turning into a 300 m tailwind finishing straight. Lots of options for the final sprint, jump early on the back stretch, go from the final corner or pick the best wheel to draft and come around in the final 100 m. No perfect way, it depends on your strengths and how well you gauge the other riders. Any way you risk being caught or letting a guy solo home. The course is also tempting for breakaways, get down low into the headwind, get a gap, pedal through every corner , and it requires a lot of work from the pack to be brought back.

Almost all of the races featured long-term breaks, some were brought back, some weren't.

Up at 5:30, helping with setup, registration, officials etc. Nice turnout from the juniors, who received a thorough soaking from the elements for their efforts. The rain stayed away for the rest of the day, moderate temperature until mid-afternoon when the mercury hit the discomfort level.

Very few of the local racers do well in this event, as everybody gets pretty worn out from volunteering duties, but it's also important to represent the jersey - most jump into two races.

I should really save my bullets for the last race of the day, but I'd have been working 10 hours at this stage so I knew I wouldn't be worth much. I decided to give what I got in the morning Masters race. Still pretty knackered from the days at ToAD, I wasn't very enthusiastic about warming up. Just rolled easily around a parking lot for 10 minutes and did a few cursory jumps up and down the street while the previous race wrapped up. Then it was 1 practice lap and roll up to the start.

After the nadir of lame groupthink racing that was the O'Fallon-Spring Prairie weekend, and being inspired by CBR Luke's SP race account - I have given up on looking for upgrade points or results. I'm going to go out there and race every race. To heck with the consequences, I'm going to have fun, leave it all out there and do my tiny bit to let people know that they've been in a race.

You might say that a Masters Open race is not the best place to try this, and you'd be right. With all the Cat 1s and 2s there I'd be well out of my depth. I was pretty worried about getting dropped early. So I did what I often do when I think I'm in trouble - go to the front.

Half a lap in and the field tucks in as we hit the headwind. I take the opportunity to move into the wind and move up. Not sure why I did what I did, it wasn't a conscious decision, I wanted to get some high speed practice on the corners, represent the jersey in our home race and get a good photo-op. My legs took over and I jumped. Hitting the line I already had a good gap, the announcer starts going crazy and at every corner someone is shouting for me. So I hammered it. I was thinking I could maybe last 3 or so laps, then retire back to the pack to be dropped gracefully when the hammer really went down - might as well enjoy all the vainglory while it lasted. After three laps I still had a gap of 12 seconds or so and the pack was content to let me hang. I was wondering how much longer I could last, then an unattached rider bridged up. First time that anyone has ever bridged up to any of my suicidal OTF efforts - this could be a new experience! He introduced himself as the brother of a teammate and we set to work, rotating every half lap or so. Now my focus changed to staying out there as long as possible. I had a very strong teammate who had already raced, He could sit in till we were caught. and would only have to work the remainder of the race. I knew he could still put out a strong 20 minutes, but maybe not the full 45 - so that would improve his chances of a good result.

The gap went up from 12 to 15 to 18 seconds, still never out of sight of the pack. My power began to drop after 20 minutes or so, my already poor cornering became very ragged and I was starting to get gapped by my breakmate. He had to slow a few times to allow me back on.The catch was made after 25 minutes That's about 23 minutes longer than my previous record. I had stayed out there for more than half the race.

Well, we had succeeded in shattering the pack. My breakmate managed to hang on to the back of the first group of 15 who came by, I didn't. And just barely managed to latch on to the next, laughing group, of about 10. Took me 3 laps or so, but I recovered and was able to take my pulls and go to the front without any problem.

We had 5 or more Team Mackers in the group including infamous cat54ever Mark Shea. When Mack is involved, it doesn't matter if we're racing for DFL, or whether they had already raced previously. Only one thing for sure - Macker vs Proctoid! IT'S ON!

Tried to jump away with 1 lap to go. Didn't get anywhere. One Macker jumped to the left on the back straight, I latched onto his wheel. Another came hammering up the right side, I found a jump and latched on. Up the incline and I went wide, he made room for a third Macker to come through on the inside. I went round and jumped onto his wheel. He wound up his sprint, I stayed in the draft and came round him with 50 meters to go. Worth it to hear race announcer Dangerous Dan Damotte screaming my name as I crossed the line. And it is Team Mack, after all, and it may be the first and last time that I get past Steve Driscoll in a sprint. We have to take our little victories where we find them.

Hmm.. 20 minutes on, 5 minutes recovery, 20 minutes on. I think I'm getting too used to my favourite interval session.

That race done I changed out of my kit and spent the next few hours working registration. Saw Dave Moyer winning the P12 race in an impressive solo effort and Burnham dominating the Cat 3s in their patented manner. By the time it came to suit up for the Cat 4s I was pretty much toasted. Up nearly 12 hours and with nothing to eat all day bar a bowl of oatmeal and a banana. Didn't bother warming up. Tailgunning it from the start. Hot as Heck. Nothing in the legs that could allow me to move up. Dropped after 5 laps. I TT'd it for a few more - not able to sustain the effort. Jumped onto the back of the pack when they came around with 5 to go. No problem staying with them this time. At this stage all attacks had been reeled in and it was clear it was going to be a sprint finish. We all knew who was going to win that, which he did easily, so the only question to be resolved was who was going to take 2nd. Turned out to be Q from Project 5 - one of the few who do well at both Cobb Park and the State Crit.

After that is was a couple of hours of teardown and clearup, followed by a post-mortem over a burger and a couple of pints of stout. Then home for a 10 hour sleep that a baby would be proud of.

I raced. I left it out there. I got dropped. I had fun.

Some notes:

For the 2nd year in a row not one Cat 1/2 lady bothered to show up.

I have only encountered one team in Illinois that ever displays bad sportsmanship. More of the same today and they got called out publicly for it.

2009 Road Season Wrapup

2010-05-21T20:45:00.008-05:00

A fairly miserable 2009 road season it was. I think I only once finished in the top half of a race. major underachievement.

Crashed at Hillsboro but finished. Started to get dropped early in group rides and races immediately afterwards. Didn't get back to reasonable for for a couple of months. Did ok at O'fallon, tried to break 3 times, even tried to drive a 6 man group that got an accidental gap with 7 miles to go. Nothing doing. Everyone wanted to sit in for the sprint. A couple of miles later someone crashed spontaneously and a group of 10 got away. Those who did no work got on the podium.

Cobb Park was the only crit I really enjoyed. Managed to finish with the pack on half of my crits this year, versus zero last year. Got pulled at Snake alley. Dropped on the 2nd lap at Proctor - Despite that I managed to finish without getting lapped.

I'll do even fewer crits this year.

State TT was a disappointment. Overpriced and poorly organised.

Highlight of the season was a top 10 at the state RR. and not hitting the deck in the four crashes I was close to. Not much of a race, but uphill finishes are good for me. Could have ended up on the podium if I'd played it a bit smarter and not gotten myself boxed in.

Definitely stronger and with better endurance but not much to show for it. We'll see how 2010 pans out.

CX December

2010-05-21T20:45:00.005-05:00

CX November

2010-05-21T20:45:00.003-05:00

CX October

2010-05-21T20:45:00.001-05:00

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USGP - Planet Bike Cup

2009-09-29T23:08:00.008-05:00

Madison, WI

4 races and a revelation
-------------------------

Been looking forward to this weekend for several months. Doubly so since I found out that my favorite CX racer ever, Erwin Vervecken, was coming along to race.

Drove up to Madison on Friday, booked into the super 8 with every other cheapass CX racer, went to collect my numbers and check out the presentation, then hit up State St in search of pizza. Paisan’s did the trick, so good that we ordered a second one.

Dawn Saturday and woke up feeling pretty off. Forced some breakfast into me that wasn’t really worth it – got my stuff together with very little enthusiasm and headed for the course. There had been some significant rain the previous afternoon, but the course was fairly well drained – only a very moderate amount of mud.

Nice open start to a gradual right hander to a right hairpin and a gradual bend leading to the double barriers – no real bottleneck for the first km or so; that’s fairly typical for races with large numbers. Then a few muddy off camber turns, couple of bits of twisty stuff through the trees, a few heavy straight stretches with plenty of passing opportunities, couple of pavement hairpins into an extended wood section with tricky, tight off camber corners, up a hill into a right hand turn and a sharp left to the hillside strangler, steep hill with a set of four railroad ties, tricky variable radius off camber curves to the start/finish straight.

There were 4 swooping off-camber sections that were problematic in the mud, stay high and risk sliding off, go low and you might get stuck in a rut or not have the traction to get back up.

First practice lap with about 35 psi in the tires I was bouncing around way too much, 2nd lap I bled down to something below 30 psi and it was night and day. Hooking up well and smooth as buttah on the straights. Almost riding on the rims, but with only one pavement section that wasn’t a problem. Recently converting to tubeless was definitely a help – anyone who ran tubulars certainly had an advantage.

So, it was an open course, not very technical, fast but heavy going in parts. Keeping it upright would be important.

Can’t fault the organization anywhere. Call ups by order of registration, announcers keeping it exciting, even for the 4s race, starting grid, plentiful bike washes (very much appreciated), pits, more officials than you could shake a disgruntled bike racer fist at; it was all very pro.

I line up in the third row with no idea how I was going to do. We receive our instructions – no kicking, gouging within eyeshot of small children etc. - and we’re off! I don’t feel like I’m going fast but a gap opens up in front and I shoot through, then another one, shoot through that as well, round the corner, losing and gaining places then the whole field brakes for the hairpin and we simultaneously fishtail skid 30 metres – everyone keep it upright and we get round that ok, then the next turn and the slight uphill to the barriers.

By the first turn I was hit with that curious taste of mercury, blood and ashes in the mouth that one usually gets midway through the last lap of the hardest race of the year. By the second turn I had a rasping dry throat, by the third I was overheated, by the fourth nearly shivering. Something was not right. Nothing to do but maintain my position as best I could and hope that my body would recover. It never did, I gradually felt worse but somehow my legs kept turning. I lost a few places here and there, guys would bury themselves to pass me, then blow up and I’d pass them at my cruising speed. Can’t recall catching many people but the attrition rate was pretty high and crashes lost folks lots of time. I only made one serious mistake, trying to ride the double off camber on the high side and sliding out, losing five positions that took me a lap to get back. I also messed up the entrance to the hillside strangler on each of the first four laps, either botching my dismount or losing my footing on the ultra-slippy steps and sending the bike under the fencing, but didn’t lose any placings. Otherwise, I took the corners pretty conservatively, using the outrigger to rail some of the fast corners and negotiating my way through the off cambers and ruts without doing anything stupid. One of my favorite things about cross is the way lines can change each lap and you have to keep your wits about you to keep aware of this. With the course rapidly drying, many corners became deeply rutted and sketchy, while previously unnegotiable parts became suddenly rideable. The tracks in the straightaways also became quite loamy and one was faster to just ride in the grass to the side. Paying attention to this helped me quite a lot.

There was a group of 6 or 7 a few turns ahead of me that I came close to catching on the last lap, but never quite made it. The last time up the hill I was flawless, but a guy who I had caught and presumed to be a lapped rider produced an astonishing running burst to pass and gap me with enough space to make it over the finish before I could catch him again. Lesson learned; presume nothing.

That was it. I came home pretty dissatisfied and with a serious side stitch. Astonishingly, I was placed comfortably in the top 20 of 90 starters. I didn’t deserve it.

With an hour to kill, I chugged down a liter of powerade in one go, chilled for a bit, trying to take it all in, grabbed the singlespeed and headed for the line for more of the same. No tubeless on this setup, but I still reduced pressure to close to riding on the rims and hoped that the rapidly drying course would compensate for the lack of grip on my worn rear tire. SS is a lot of fun and features riders of cat 1-5 abilities. We lined up behind the 2/3 field and witnessed the most spectacular starting crash I’ve ever seen. Bodies flying everywhere, must have been about thirty bikes piled up. A couple of bike fatalities but no serious personal injuries.

I did what I could. Didn’t slack, kept it upright the whole race with no notable mistakes, enjoyed the plentiful rear wheel slides that made cornering that much quicker, and didn’t come last. A couple of people got away from me that wouldn’t have if I were fresh, 42*18 gear worked great, 42*17 would have been perfect with fresh legs. It was a lot of fun catching about two dozen of the 90 or so Cat 2/3 racers and just practicing my cornering and dialing in the course. Amazing what grades you can get up when you have no choice.

With two laps to go I felt a strange pain in my lower quads, one I normally don’t get. I looked down and, sure enough, my saddle had started slipping. I spent most of the rest of the race just hammering out of the saddle and had a revelation – I was going faster. Hurt like hell, but I was getting up to speed way quicker out of every corner and actually catching people much sooner than I expected. And managing to recover in the coasting sections as well. I had forgotten the intensity of cross and had been ignoring my rules: If you're in your happy place, downshift and go harder. There's plenty of time for recovery later.

Despite feeling well out of sorts, I simply hadn't been going hard enough. My lollygagging had thrown away a top 10 on a course that really suited me.

I'll keep Sunday brief. Mrs F's birthday. Same swanky restaurant as Erwin and the UCI bigwigs (thanks Chris from Team Magnus). I had the wild boar, Erwin had the lamb chops. Too much rich food. Managed to digest it but not breakfast the next morning. I was still wiping the barf off my bars when the whistle went.

Second row start this time. Lungs actually felt great,, I was ready to apply my newly refound Go Harder philosophy, but the legs had nothing; empty. Went backwards from the start, the Pegasus guy who took the holeshot went down on the first hairpin and the field compressed. Found a nice inside line but the fool behind me decided to muscle in to the minuscule inside space as well and took both of us out. My own fault for even leaving a chink of light there and not protecting it better. Lost 10 places there, a few more on the next corner and a few more coming to the barriers. Simply couldn't respond, cruising speed was fine, I could even up the pace a bit here and there but that top end was AWOL. Saturday's exertions sure sapped the legs.

The course was only a little changed from the previous day, a bit faster, only slightly muddy from the dew but drying up fast, a few more twisty bits with a couple of the off-cambers made easier. Instead of the railroad ties, we now rode up stranglers hill, descended into a steep hairpin and rode up again. Without practise, I wasn't even going to attempt it so I dismounted at the top, ran down, made the tight turn and ran up again. I passed two people on the first lap by doing this and lost no places or time on any lap. Amazingly, most people rode the whole thing but I didn't trust my legs or the slippery turn at the bottom. I also avoided that extra effort and feel that I was able to catch a good few later who fatigued from riding this section.

The first two laps consisted of me going backwards, lap 3 I stabilized my position, laps 4 and 5 I pulled a couple of baller moves on tired groups of riders and caught large numbers. Crossed the finish line 15 places lower than Saturday - could and should have been a lot worse.

The singlespeed race was fun. I was gapped and in last place by the first bend, nothing in the legs whatsoever and really had to dig deep not to DFL. We caught the tail of the 2/3 race stalled on the first off-camber section and I was looking forward to catching loads more 2/3s like Saturday, but it never happened. They just rode away from me. My only goal now was not to get lapped. Coming to the bell lap I thought I had plenty of time between me and the 2/3 leader but I wasted too much time goofing off on the hill with the Pegasus riders and then bobbled badly on the last rutted off-camber. The leader caught me coming into the finishing straight and I was pulled. Bit of a bummer but that's how it goes.

Anyway, an enjoyable weekend. I learned a lot and remembered a lot. Funny how the lungs let you down one day and the legs the next. I'm due a breakthrough result sometime this season. My results in the cat 4 were better than I deserved, considering how I raced so badly, so I must be doing something right. I need to keep training and ensure that I come to the races well-prepared in mind and body. Someday it'll happen - hopefully, I didn't throw away this year's chance already.

Illinois State Road Race

2009-09-22T22:57:00.011-05:00

Willow Springs, IL

If you believe that a State Road Race Championship should be long and hard, and those fighting it out at the finish should have earned the right to be there, then you’re probably not from Illinois.

Amazing job from Tower Racing in finding the only hill in Chicagoland, organizing the permits, partial closure of roads and solving multiple other problems – while keeping a strong emphasis on safety (and parking a respectable Irish pub, with viewing patio, on the course). After the usual ritual of getting lost in Chicagoland, we found the racesite; parking and registration couldn’t have been smoother; temperature was cool and the mood was good. $35 registration is a very fair price for a road race, considering that CX and Crit races are hitting $30 now. I have no problems with the late fee either. Many people doubled up, so it would have been nice to get that $10-15 off for a second race as $70 is starting to get a bit steep to support the premier bike event of the year as fully as one can.

The 10 mile triangular course consisted of a 3 tier mile long hill with about 200 ft of climbing, a smooth descent followed by two 4 mile sections of smooth, narrow and sheltered road with a couple of false flats. The finish line was located at the top of the hill and the start a short distance before the bottom, so each race would ascend the hill by the number of laps plus one. Bar the hill, there was nothing to aid a separation, the lack of wind and smooth road kept speeds high, however this lack of natural separation didn’t prevent the cat 4s from creating their own.

It’s been an abysmal season for me. Don’t know if I’ve even finished in the upper half of a race this year, so I was hoping to gain some redemption with this one and get a decent result. Being a hill aficionado with no sprint, but solid endurance, I thought I should be able to do ok.

The order of the day was hammer it up the hill, coast down, tootle along merrily chatting amongst ourselves for the next 9 miles and repeat. Those who did well never showed their face at the front, did no work and had enough endurance to put out strong surges in power over a 1-2 minute period. Being an uphill sprint, the bigger 20 second crit sprinters were at a disadvantage – it would be interesting to see whether the smaller sprinters or the more powerful, but bigger, trackie types would do well on the day..

Masters Cat 4/5 75 starters

Biggest field of the day for the old geezer 4/5s. We were all aware that the centerline rule was strictly enforced, but other details concerning where use of both lanes were allowed were unclear because nobody outside the first two rows was able to hear the official.

Off we went, there were several holes and parallel cracks in the road that we weren’t prepared for and half a dozen bottles went flying immediately. Up the hill at a robust clip – hurt like heck in my unwarmed-up state – and through the finish line. Mindful of previous experience I tried not to lag near the back where accidents happen but only managed to make it up to about 40th place.

Crash #1

A little bit past the finish, just where the shoulder vanishes, something happened. I didn’t see or hear it happen, just saw the rear of a bike, with a leg attached, lying horizontal about 5 wheels ahead. I yelled out a warning, hit the brakes and unclipped. I slowed down pretty quick but was most worried about being crashed into from behind and sent flying into the rapidly increasing pile of bikes and bodies. Somehow I managed to negotiate my way between the flying bottles, metal, carbon and flesh but didn’t have time to congratulate myself. The guys at the front punched it immediately and the pack was split in two. There was no way I was going to let them get away and have my race ruined. I endured several of the most painful minutes I have ever experienced on a bike, chasing like a madman until they slowed down slightly for the turn onto 96th and I caught back on. Only a couple of us made it.

Nothing much happened after that, I felt we were going pretty slowly and expected that the rest of the field would catch on, but they never did. There were a bunch of manholes on Archer Rd that weren’t expected, and made taking a drink quite risky – combined with regular 4/5 riding, you had to have your wits about you to avoid surprised riders with one hand off the bars making squirrelly moves. That said, the pack was overall quite well behaved and nobody took any stupid risks. I was still suffering from my bridging effort and hung at the back hoping to recover.

The first three times up the hill were painful. The fourth time, coming on to the last lap, I got to the top and realized that I had barely noticed it. Took me 30 miles to warm up. Time to move up and get in good position for the final dig.

I spent the rest of the lap trying to move up without much success. I’d try on the outside, get stalled and get passed by those on the inside. Try again on the inside, and get passed by the outside. We were all bunched up and with very few people jockeying for position there was little fluidity and opportunity to get forward. I kept trying, nonetheless, and as we hit the corner for the final climb I looked around to gauge my position. I was still amazed to see that I was last but one of the 35 or so still in the pack.

As usual, a few riders found they were in too high a gear and stalled. I took the oppor-tunity and dug hard, shooting up to about 20th and tucking back in. Hitting the second tier I was able to move up to about 15th past a few guys who were starting to feel the quickening pace. All I needed now was the pack to spread out a bit and move into the top 10 before the final deciding all-out effort for the line.

It never happened, nobody was sure where the centerline rule ended and risk getting DQ’d so we proceeded like that until coming to the base of the hill. Boxed in, with not much I could do about it!

Then the shenanigans started: someone decided to break to the left, then swing to the right, another guy gave his teammate a lead out and decided that swinging over to the right and impeding half the pack was the right thing to do. Others felt that riding diagonally was preferable to going straight, and if swinging to the left didn’t make you faster, then trying to swing to the right might. The two guys directly in front of me were banging shoulders and handlebars and swerving all over the shop. I was seriously scared to move up - shamefully amateurish riding.

I felt amazing - floating uphill with no chain, accelerating up the slope and feeling nothing. My first no-chain day of the year and I’m having to soft pedal and touch the brakes several times to avoid the nonsense in front that was scaring the living daylights out of me.

After an eternity feeling that I was stuck outside the pay toilet with a crooked penny, the two antagonists in front ran out of steam and I was able to sneak by. Just in time:

Crash #2

One of the guys I had just passed went down; spontaneously, I think. I heard the worst crashing cacophony imaginable; yells, swearing, brakes and the sound of metal scraping and carbon breaking – lots of it – frames, wheels, shifters, bars, the lot. At least 10 people got taken out. A buddy who came on the scene a couple of minutes later said there were bodies and bikes all over the road.

I didn’t look back, just wanted to get the hell out of there. Finally, I saw daylight with about 60 meters to go and was able to punch it for all I was worth. I zoomed past half a dozen riders and managed to sneak into the top 10 before running out of real estate, crossing the line with plenty left in the tank and feeling like I had barely broken sweat.

I, along with a few others boxed-in guys, should have been sprinting for the podium. I was at least as strong as anyone else in the race. Lousy positioning on my part and inept riding by others had cost me the chance for the win. Still, a top 10 in the State road race is a remarkable improvement for me – I’ll take it and be thankful that I’m still intact.

Cat 4 race 55 starters

Things were a bit more fluid in this race. This time the official made sure that everyone heard the pre-race instructions and we had all taken the time to figure out where we could spread out for the hill. I was feeling bad about not doing much work in the previous race, so I went to the front from the beginning and pushed the pace several times to make it just that bit safer. I also wanted to test the legs and see what I had left; clearly not much as I nearly got dropped the second time up the hill. So, I wouldn’t be sprinting for the win, but there was no reason that I still couldn’t get a good top 15-20 result if I paid some attention to good positioning and measured out my efforts.

Crash #3

Nothing much to report before the finish. The pack stayed together, maybe 3 or 4 people got dropped by flatting or finding that they just couldn’t climb hills. Next-to-last time up the hill, half a dozen riders decided to risk DQ and crossed over to the left lane, one fool knocked over one of the cones placed to prohibit this and knocked it into the path of another rider in the right lane. He managed to avoid it, but was forced back into the next cone. Sandwiched between the pack on the right and the rule-flaunting riders on the left he had nowhere to go, colliding with the cone, going down with a blood-curdling scream and taking a couple others with him. Meanwhile, the guys who caused it all snuck back into the pack, smirkily pretending that nothing had happened. I hope they’re proud of themselves.

The hill was starting to hurt, but I didn’t want to repeat the positioning fiasco of earlier; I sucked up the pain, dug deep, and made it into the first half-dozen riders as we crossed the summit. I let myself fall back a few places here and there but stayed in the front third of the field for the rest of the lap, being able to move over and let my teammate past for a prominent position as well. Things were a bit more fluid, and this time it was much easier to float back and forth in the field if you kept your wits.

Hitting the hill for the last time I was in about 20th wheel, a position I was confident I could move up from, and I shifted to a lower gear for the steep first section. Then I got swarmed by about 15 riders from behind. Most of them found they were overgeared or ran out of gas, and after a little dig I was able to pass them again and regain my position. At the head of the field a couple of larger guys had broken away early, but they weren’t getting away and the top 20 were pretty much together. I was happy where I was and thought I could probably sneak another top 10 if I played my cards right.

Crash #4

At the crest of the first hill the Cuttin’ Crew train was busting a move on the outside, trying to get their man in position for the win. Not sure what happened, probably a wheel rub; I heard a drawn out ululation and saw a guy going into a full tuck and flying over the bars while sending his bike skidding to the right into my path. I Yell, brake, head for the ditch, trackstand; all on an uphill. Snuck through between the bike and the margin but that was it for me and the other racers directly behind. I pulled a muscle in my thigh trying to catch on, did manage to get on to the tail end and had a good view of the finish as we hit the final hill. 5 or 6 riders were fighting it out for the win, another 10 or so trying not to blow up and fill out the top 10 and another 15 in various stages of going backwards. I had nothing left and soft-pedalled home, still managing to pass another half-dozen or so bikers who were in a worse state than I was for a place
somewhere in the thirties.

That was it, exchanged a few war stories on the cool down, had something to eat and a couple of beers in the Irish pub, watched some more races and headed for the U2 concert that evening.

Looks like I’m finally hitting some form for the real season – Cyclocross starts in a week. Glad that I was able to put a silver lining on my miserable road season with a respectable result, but still annoyed that I was capable of competing for the top step of the podium and did a lousy job of enabling that to happen.

That said, I saw four crashes up close and managed to avoid them all. None of them should have happened – all were due to sloppy riding. I’m still alive and unharmed, that’s more important to me than any result.

While it’s great to have a unique course in the Chicago region, and Tower Racing did a great organizational job, anyone who thinks that this was a road race is fooling themselves. It wasn’t. It had the intensity somewhere below a Sunday group ride interspersed with a hard 2 minute effort every 25 minutes. The results say very little about riders road racing abilities – including mine. The hill added a different flavor and threw up some unexpected and welcome faces on the podium in all the races. It’d be great to have a State Championship that was genuinely long, hard and selective, like Iowa’s or Missouri’s, but let’s face it: we live in a state where road races are an afterthought and we have to be grateful for what we can get.

Jackson Park Cyclocross - Venez Nombreux!

2009-09-22T22:57:00.008-05:00

Amazing turnout for the first CX race of the season. Four hundred and change was the number - making it the biggest cross race ever held in Illinois. Congrats to XXX and CHiCrossCup for bringing out the crowd and growing the scene remarkably. My experience of Chicago is that you need to charge more in order for people to appreciate it The extra bikereg fee and proposed late fee appear to have done the trick.

Plan for the year was to do a few cat 4 races, actually see the head of a race at least once, hopefully sneak a top 10 placing somewhere and then cat up as packfodder to the 3s. I had been looking forward to this for several months; last year I was bubbling under the top 10, this year - definitely stronger - I wanted to break through.

Manged to drag myself out of bed early enough to eat some oatmeal and make the 2.5 hour drive to Jackson Park in Chicago. The field for the Masters 30+ was relatively small, so decided to jump into that as a second race and use it as a warmup mission. After standing in a non-moving line for 20 minutes the XXX folks kindly brought me to the front and got me registered with 15 minutes to spare. Took me a full five minutes to pin on my number, hit the portapotty and get the bike together. I rolled around the parking lot a couple of times feeling pretty dead, saw Damon from Beverly, who busticated a rib on a major rut during warmup, and headed for the line.

I just took a place at the very back of the 30 starters and decided to take it easy for the first couple of laps to get to know the course and not to kill myself. At the whistle I stayed out of the starting shenanigans, felt pretty awful, and took it fairly easy. Good thing I did because I was all over the place on the first couple of laps. A mighty twisty course had me braking like crazy and heading into the course tape several times. I just wasn't getting warmed up and rode tempo - passing a few folks who crashed or dropped chains - and maintaining about 22nd place. The course was bumpy as heck, so between the excessive braking and the difficulty of building up any speed it took me forever to get in the zone. Eventually, after 4 laps I started to feel ok and was able to downshift a couple of gears, dial in the turns, lay off the brakes, and maintain a higher speed. The higher gear is always much better for bumpy courses, and the surface was starting to break in from all the bikes and gradually get faster.

Troy from Mission Bay - who had beaten me in every race last year - passed me then so , of course, I had to test myself. We hammered it for the last 3 laps. I'd pass him on the spiral of death, he'd get me on the barriers and I'd pass him again half a lap later and try to put some distance on him. He'd catch back up and get me on the next barriers. This race within a race really got things going, I forgot about my worsening back from all the bumps, and we passed what seemed like a bazillion 40+ backmarkers and lapped a few 30+ to boot - all in various states of blowing up and just ready to be done.

I got a small gap in the final lap and maintained that to the end. Crossing the line knowing that I had at least raced for a full 15 of the 45 minutes. Of course, the results got messed up and we were listed as close to DFL. I couldn't be bothered protesting, especially when the 40+ racers were getting mighty perturbed over some major scoring errors in their race. Maybe they'll recheck the 30+ while they're doing the 40+ and figure out that we weren't actually lapped, but it's not something that I'm going to worry about - and it's a longstanding cross cup tradition.

The course itself was a bit weird. They had clearly put a lot of thought into the design features - nice use of elevation change with a couple of tricky off-camber hairpins to keep you honest, plus a groovy spiral of death that I always enjoy trying to rail and the best part - a 3 log barrier that gave you a choice of riding or running; but the overriding theme was turns, lots of them, all requiring extreme braking and just enough skill not to crash. There weren't any long enough stretches to get back up to speed so it was a sequence of brake, accelerate, brake, coast around twisty bits, brake accelerate etc. If you really hammered into the start/finish you might pick up a big enough head of steam to catch someone going into the sand, and maybe another one coming out. But that was about it. It felt like it was designed by a mountain biker who had a complex against going fast and wanted to get his revenge against every roadie who had ever passed him. Therefore hairpin turns were placed at every possible opportunity to ensure momentum was killed and to negate any possible advantage one might have from going faster or railing a turn. There's a good reason you see very little of this at the UCI races - it makes for remarkably boring racing. Twisty but not technical - great for causing logjams and congestion. Not my kind of course, but I appear to be in a minority of one on that.

Meanwhile, after rehydration, hanging around meeting old acquaintances and taking in the following races - three hours had gone by and it was time to suit up for the 4a race.

The race was decided before the whistle even went. A hole shot into a set of hairpins meant the scramble for starting position would decide everything. I managed to muscle my way into the the 2nd row, but I doubt if anyone not on the front row got into the top 10. I was lucky enough to be on the faster-starting side, moved-up rapidly, rubbing shoulders and wheels into the hairpins and was in about 15th wheel hitting the sand - a pretty good start for this diesel. That's never high enough though, as someone between 7th and 10th always goes down and creates a logjam. The first seven got through cleanly to fight it out, a couple of fast-twitchers lose it and get tangled up and all those on one side are forced to get off their bikes and run. Lost about 5 places here. We roll around till the first hairpin barrier, I take it very cleanly but on the remount find that someone has optimistically placed their front wheel over my pedal and I'm trying to clip into his spokes. I get swarmed by about 10 riders before I can remount again and that was it. Stuck in a convoy through all the chicanes and turns. If you could maintain a certain minimum speed it was not possible to be passed unless you crashed. No choice but to resign myself to the parade until things would space out on lap 2. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. We continued on in the procession - passing maybe two riders per lap and losing or gaining a place on the barriers - until half a lap to go. Finally people started to tire, daylight appeared and I was able to get past a couple more riders for the final spurt to the line.

Very short race - The winner crossed in about 25 minutes. Last year we did six laps for 8 miles., this year four laps for 6 miles. It was the first cross race ever that I can say I just did not enjoy. I've raced in larger fields, but on courses that were designed to allow races to spread out and that didn't consider going fast a crime. I felt that I just didn't race. My result had nothing to do with how fast or slow I was, merely to do with starting on the second row. A third row start and I would have been ten places further back. Fourth row and I would have finished in the forties. So it goes.

A pretty deflating way to start the season. Once you get that top 10 callup it's very difficult not to maintain that placing. I need to forget about series points and callups and just take as much as I can get from each race and enjoy the experience.

We suck it up and move on. I'll be heading for Madison this weekend - that should be very different. I'll make sure to enjoy it more.

Colesburg 40 Gravel Road Race.

2009-09-22T22:56:00.000-05:00

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IL State Time Trial Champs

2009-09-18T17:22:00.002-05:00

Harvard, IL

I dug out the TT frame a couple of weeks before this and rode it exclusively coming up to this event. TTing is always something I’ve liked. I have a good tolerance for suffering and have always seemed to maintain concentration and never give up. Good attribute for my favorite discipline of cyclocross.

The aim was to break 25 mph and average 290W. I’d been doing 285 W in training without too much pain, so I thought this was achievable if I were fresh and well-prepared. Equipmentwise I own a craigslist TT frame and fork, with a too-tall headtube, that I got a great deal on plus: a Giro TT helmet, chopped roadbars, performance’s cheapest clip-ons and an 8 speed shifter run in friction mode so I can use a 9 speed 11-23 cassette. Regular road wheels (18 spoke, 28 mm rim) on front and 32 spoke powertap with open pro rim on back, all shod with regular 23 mm Michelin Pro Race 3s. I’m a bit more flexible this year so I reduced the stem height by about 2 cm and brought my position slightly forward. Not being a fan of buying speed, I made my own aerocovers with some Hobby Lobby foamboard and some zipties – a complete PITA to mount and dismount, and I’m not sure that it makes me faster, but I do it just to annoy the folks who spend $1000+ for a cool sound and a few extra seconds.

I’d be more impressed with the event organization if they could actually state the correct distance on the flyer (it’s 32.7 km, not 30 km) and let us know in advance how rough the roads were in parts. Closing online reg a week beforehand and then charging a cheeky $37 for day-of is not the way to impress. If it wasn’t the State Champs I doubt that many would have turned up. As usual, payout was minimal. That said, the most important thing was safety: the course was very well-marshalled with very little traffic. They also got the results online very promptly, something that very few promoters seem able to manage.

Onto the day itself - not enough sleep, 2.5 hour drive, lousy warmup is not the way to prepare. Temp in the 70s was perfect with a light breeze. There’s a 10 minute start delay so I use that time to go for a little more warm-up cruising. Of course, I lose track and end up sprinting back to the start just as my minute man is taking off – a close call!

I get going and use the PT to moderate my power and avoid the early blow up. Just can’t find any rhythm and the horizontal cracks in the road jarring me every two seconds really start to get to me. I shift up and shift down, playing around with my cadence, but just can’t seem to find that happy place. I try to keep power up but there are several points where I look down and find I’m doing only 220W. Feels like my seat is way too high and my hamstrings are in serious pain already. Hit the first corner, the surface improves, and I make a big effort to settle in – finally find some rhythm and am able to put down a consistent power for a while. A few more corners, taken conservatively, and I’m about two thirds done. This is where there is an extended section of potholes, hidden in shadows, followed by the one fast downhill with a rough culvert at the bottom that’s just begging for a dropped chain or pinch flat. I get some direct pothole hits and
then coast gingerly over the rough hollow. Probably lost quite a few seconds here but I’m not prepared to risk it when I don’t know the course. The strangest thing is that I passed noone and nobody passed me. Something that’s never happened me before. Catching sight of a rabbit can be a great motivator, as can being caught; I found it mighty lonely out there.

After the last turn I know it’s a straight shot for home on a slight uphill and mild headwind. Really starting to hurt here and my muscles and tendons are protesting. The next few miles consist of alternating between 30 secs or so at 300 W, dropping down to 240 for a few seconds, before sucking up the pain again – all the time waiting for an indication that the finish line was near - some course distance markings would have been useful. After an eternity in the pain cave, and many false sightings, I see the finish tent and hammer for all I’m worth for the final minute.

24.6 mph, 283 W - Kinda disappointing. There are folks putting out lower power and going faster, so I’ve still got quite a lot of aero gains to make. The good news is that my breathing was fine, my legs let me down. I think my saddle was just too high. Way too much messing about with position and I guess I never settled on one in time to really get used to it. I estimate my CdA at about 0.275 m^2. Looks like I can afford to lower my position a bit more and get closer to 0.26 CdA – that would have me comfortably above 25 mph. Gotta dial in one position for next year and ride that a lot more.

Resultswise Cat 4/5 is always a bit of a joke. You always get a bunch of triathletes or TT specialists who have never raced enough to upgrade and come out to do some ridiculous times. The top 5 would also have podiumed in Cat 3 while the winner did 28 mph and just lost out for best time of the day to a P12 rider. As it was, I finished somewhere midway. It was interesting that there were several riders clustered together with only a few 10s of seconds separating us. This is where it becomes tempting to invest in all the bling. Zipp 808 front, carbon aerobars, carbon rear would guarantee me an extra 30s to 1 minute and soothe my ego by vaulting over 3 or 4 others. It’s not something I really see the point of though. I’ve DFL’d enough races to know that I don’t have serious self-esteem issues and I could never spend enough to get me on the podium. Next year, maybe a decent skinsuit and a new wheelcover – main thing will be dragging the bike out much earlier and working on getting used to lower position. The 40k hour mark still needs to be broken.

Iowa State Road Race

2009-08-03T00:19:00.004-05:00

Ginormous crosswinds + bazillion rollers + big Iowa farm boys = the most brutally hard race I have done.

“When in doubt, eat potatoes” was a famous slogan of this man – a sentiment that I fully agree with -, so what better way to celebrate the legacy of our 31st president than head to his birthplace, West Branch, IA for Hooverfest, where amongst the funnel cake, World Hooverball championships and deep fried Snickers bars there was also a bike race taking place– namely the Iowa State Road Race Championships. I predicted my race would mirror the Hoover presidency – spectacular crash, followed by a downward spiral into great depression, then stagnation, resignation to one’s fate and spectacular defeat. Let’s see how it would turn out.

As usual, not enough sleep, a late start and 2.5 hour drive conspired to leave me just enough time to register, pin on my number and set up my bike. Headed for th eline after a quick spin to check my brakes etc. The official gave us our orders – centerline rule, 2 laps of a 27 mile circuit, don’t cross the yellow line for the sprint – and we were off.

There was a sense of nervous energy in the pack of forty-odd riders ; this was the State Champs so most riders would have been targetting this for a peak performance – I wasn’t, I knew it was going to be tough but still had been putting in a hard block of training for CX season – I was hoping to wing it a bit; hide away until I was good and warmed up and then see what would happen.

There was no large team representation, maybe three riders each from DMOS, North Iowa Spin, Rasmussen and Bike Tech plus a smattering of others from allover the state and a few out-of staters.

They sure breed ‘em big in Iowa, from the gun a group of seven or eight riders formed at the front and put the hammer down. I quickly found myself at the back, hoping that the nervous energy would dissipate, but it was not to be. Directly out of town there’s an 8 mile straight stretch with roller after roller, all ravaged by a brutally swirling crosswind increasing in strength. Every roller we hit, a new guy would go to the front and punch it, seemingly unaffected by the wind – sure are some extremely strong country boys in Iowa. Pretty soon the rear of the pack lost its formation and it was every man for himself. Try as I might, I was struggling to find any draft and was getting guttered on the white line. We’d hit a hill and I’d be able to make up some ground, the pack would reform in a more organized fashion and then get strung out by the next rider punching it at the front. I simply wasn’t ready for the neverending surges and was soon
feeling the pain before even warming up. It was sone of the situations where the guy on the inside would be cruising along at 100-150 watts but the guy on the outside, in the wind, would be over threshold at over 300 watts. This situation rarely continues because the guys on the outside try to move to the inside and it ends up becoming a strung-out paceline of strung-out riders, all fighting for some shelter.

Pretty soon I saw the pattern of doom forming, a head group of 8 or so riders, clumped together and rotating well, a couple of paired riders hanging off their draft and a long line of single riders fighting for wheels, trying to close gaps and guttered on the white line. I have been told that this has been referred to as a Mexican Paceline, but, as that’s probably not PC, I’m going to call it an English Paceline. I know from bitter experience that when an English paceline occurs, gaps will occur, someone won’t be bale to close it and the pack will split – I’ve been on the wrong end of this a couple of times and I’m not going to let that happen again.

Only one thing for it – get to the front. I yell at my teammate that it’s too dangerous back here and to grab my wheel., pull out into the wind, bury my head and kick it up for all I’m worth. It’s brutally hard out here, I’m well into anaerobic and making bugger-all progress. This hurts. I manage to pull forward 10 or 15 places and then have to give up. Got no more to give and the head of the English paceline is still out of reach, but I believe this effort is what saved me. Some where in the next couple of miles the pack did split and about 40% of the pack got dropped. I got gapped maybe two dozen times but fought back on each time. I think I was the last rider to make it.

After 8 miles of this torture, we turn East for a couple of miles, the pace increases but there’s a tailwind and the pack stays together, then a right turn for another 8 miles into rolling hills and crosswind. I hang on at he tail of the pack, suffering like a dog. This time we’re guttered on the yellow line and it’s more of the same. Each respite I try to move forward a few places in the wind and then try to hang on – somehow I succeed. I don’t know how I managed it. My legs hurt, my ass hurts, my brain hurts. My quads especially, are screaming. My stomach is about to convulse. Luckily the hills on this stretch are longer and I’m able to move up a bit on the downhills and then climb to mid-pack on the uphills.

Eventually we hit the right hand turn for the 5 mile headwind drag into town. The pack slows down and everybody takes it easy for ten minutes, taking the chance to eat and drink and chat a bit. I spend the first 5 minutes dry-retching. It’s been the hardest hour I have ever had on the bike – a miracle that I survived. We averaged over 25 MPH in the first hour, for a cat 4 race - that’s fast, for a race in a crosswind it’s a phenomenally hard pace. It’s a mystery to me how so many others hung on. Eventually I recover somewhat and am bale to drink some fluids, although eating is still out of the question.

We hit the feedzone, roll through town and turn for the crosswind section again. Plenty more surges go down, but this time I’m pretty careful about moving up aggressively whenever the pace drops and even go to the front a few times. I know that I’ve already burned two boxes of matches and have nothing left, but manage to fake it without too many problems as we hit the short tailwind section. Turn again into the second crosswind, more surges, English paceline forms again. Nothing in the legs, I get gapped on the first surge but battle back on. Second surge and I’m off the back, nothing left to give – the damage had been done on the first lap. Two guys behind me pull through and drag me back on. Surge three and I’m off the back. I’m the very last guy to be dropped. I work together with Ryan from DMOS, who catches me from behind and we trade pulls in the hope that a miracle will occur and we catch back on. The pack does actually slow down
considerably and we come tantalizingly close to them a couple of times but never close enough to make a bridging effort worthwhile. Dropped on the very last surge of the race!

We keep them in view at 30-60 secs gap until they make the right turn for the last five miles into town. That’s when I cracked and the last few miles uphill inot the headwind were a long and lonely death march. Ryan has a bit more in the tank and I can’t keep up with him – he presses on for a strong finish but the officials miss him crossing the line a couple of minutes behind and he’s listed as DNF – very unfair to him.

I struggle on and manage to raise a feeble sprint for show at the line. Collapse into the grass on the side and contemplate retirement for a couple of minutes. I drink a fresh bottle, stand up and actually don’t feel too bad. My quads are still screaming but I’ve been in a lot worse shape. Maybe I am getting fitter after all.

It’s about 10 minutes or so before the rest of the Cat 4 riders start to straggle in, in various states of distress. Only a few DNFs - for such a brutal race that’s very surprising. Teammate Tim finished his race strong – just finishing deserves respect.

The race ended up with the pack of twenty-odd riders slowing to snails pace for the last few headwind miles and then a drag race for the line into the uphill headwind. A pity I couldn’t hang on as I think I would have had enough for some decent power for a couple of minutes at the end. The top ten guys were way strong but maybe a top 15 was within reach. Such is life.

Positioning at the end was crucial (see pic) with the centerline rule in force you needed to be well-positioned for the sprint or take some crazy risks passing in the gravel. The guy who won is a multiple World champion speed skater, Jeannie Longo passed me once on a Hill Climb, but this is the first time I’ve race with a World champion of any discipline – that’s kind of cool.

Looking back, I try to see what I could have done better. The roads were like glass, so my decision to run 28mm tires didn’t work out. If I’d forced myself to eat and drink more maybe I could have had the extra five watts needed to hang on. But the big difference was simply getting hung, drawn and quartered in the first half hour. Lesson learned, if you expect a crosswind, get a good night’s sleep and warm up plenty beforehand. The hammer will always drop from the gun and those who aren’t prepared will pay for it.

All in all, it was a great race. Roads were perfect, very little traffic, safe and well-marshalled, flawless registration and really cheap to boot. It would be great if there was a way to move the finish line so that there could be a full width sprint – but you can’t have everything.

We all brought families and they had a great time at Hooverfest and wandering around West Branch. Found cheap eats and even got good Hefeweizen beer for a ridiculous price of $1.75 each.

One of the hardest, and most enjoyable races there is in the Midwest. We’ll be back next year.

Chicago Criterium

2009-07-30T00:21:00.010-05:00

We went round in circles and XXX didn’t win.

It’s a bit sad when the highlight of your day is the warmup, but that’s how it turned out at the Chicago Criterium on Sunday.

Feeling completely off this weekend. Should have bagged the race but I already paid. Lack of sleep, a three hour drive, plus the stress of looking for parking meant that my head just wasn’t in it. Great venue in downtown, super well-organised, smooth registration, races started on time, pleasant surroundings.

Found a nice shady spot to set up the rollers, with a view of the course to watch the cat 3s going round and a light pleasant breeze to keep things cooler I couldn’t have asked for much more. Spinning away I figured out one of the bonuses of the location - Let’s just say that the average eye candy in Grant Park is quite a step above your average crit – most pleasant.

After the most thorough warm-up I’ve ever done it was time to line up with the other 75 4/5 masters racers. Lots of Beverly Bike, Tower Racing and more XXXers than you could shake a chamois at.

With no warm-up lap I didn’t really know what to expect. The pack took off quickly, and with no real zip in my legs I quickly found myself at the back. As is typical in Midwest crits, the mentality is to accelerate out of every corner, slow up on the straights and hammer it over the leg-sapping hump on Balbo. I like hills but I found myself getting gapped each time over that hump and having to chase on. Smooth it was not.

I just concentrated on finding the right lines and conserving momentum through the corners. The course was much rougher than I expected, apart from the abundant manholes there were a lot of cracks and uneven transitions that weren’t immediately obvious. Even my relatively conservative PSI was a bit high and my rear wheel did jump a couple of times during the race.

The hazards of hanging at the back are well known. Towards the end of lap 2 about 10 guys started feeling the pace and dropped off. I was slow to react and had to chase for nearly a full lap to catch on. Still feeling poorly but reasonably happy that I did have the power to catch on. Then the next hazard of riding at the back. A guy’s wheel skips on a manhole into turn 5 and he spontaneously wrecks just in front of me. Between braking and a nice rear wheel skid I manage to avoid hitting him, but by the time I clip back in the pack is well gone. I get no love from the pit official and that’s it – my race is over. My own fault for hanging at the back.

I get together with the two other guys in the incident (nobody injured) and we roll a few laps, me taking most of the pulls, until the pack comes around again. Hop on to the back and have no problem hanging. They have slowed down considerably and the second half of the race is slow, uneventful and boring. None of the teams are showing any initiative and solo riders have given up trying to push the pace.

As we hit 30 minutes some people are starting to get a little tired. A BBVP rider tries to move up in the turn lane on Michigan ave but only succeeds in getting boxed in when the road narrows, luckily a SCW rider anticipates the danger and yells out to everybody to slow up; BBVP gets back in safely, good riding SCW!. 1.5 laps to go and the pace ups slightly, guys are finally falling back on the hump – as we hit the bell a line of Tower racing riders who had been hanging near the back punch it on the straightaway in an effort to drag their guy to the front, I’m not sure if they managed to make it. Around turns 1 and 2 and nothing much happens, plenty of room to move up on the Congress curve, we hit Balbo and the back of the pack implodes, guys are dropping off like flies on the hump; the final turn and no-one has dared to make a move, I’m just motoring along keeping up with the pace and making sure not to get involved in the sprint. It was the tamest field sprint I have seen (see the pic), one guy goes off and wins by a couple of bike lengths, the rest seem scared to bust a move and about 30 guys hit the line within a few yards of each other. Seems like a lot of riders hit a brick wall and collapse, I had to brake several times so as not to get involved in the sprint, I’m still mid-pack, but a lap behind.

We roll around for a cool down, exchanging war stories. I look down and realize that I’ve done the whole race in my little chainring. Great to see Psimet from Bike Heaven get a good result. XXX only managed one guy in the top 15 – seem to be losing their mojo - highly unusual. It was a surprisingly weak 75 rider field – not many real sprinters in there and PowerBar Ben with his bazillion upgrade points didn’t even put in an appearance to ride away from the field. Still not sure about why Cat 4 riders are so obsessed with going hard on the slow bits and slow on the fast bits, but if you really want to blow yourself up then go ahead.

A pity about the lost lap, but I never really got my head into the race so it was probably for the best. I’m not sure why this race and all the other races I saw were so tame and lacked much initiative. The course isn’t technical but had enough features to sap the legs and repay skilful cornering, the wind even changed a few times and I sometimes had difficulty catching the draft. Seems like many of the teams negated each other and nobdy wanted to take any risks with friends and family watching., tired legs from superweek may have been another factor.

My last crit of the year. Roll on CX season.

Anyway, a super experience to race in the heart of downtown in such a well-organised event. Glad to be able to support it and I hope it’ll be back next year.

Mountain Biking

2009-07-30T00:21:00.002-05:00

MTBing is weird. I just don't get the obsessions with singletrack. More to come.

Mississippi Bluffs Road Race

2009-07-30T00:20:00.008-05:00

A bit of a strange one, this. Neither the flyer or website gives out much info, so one basically has to go on trust – which is fairly typical for an ABR race. Anyway, it’s a 30 mile road race near the Quad Cities and is billed as the ABR Illinois state champs. 30 miles is a bit short for a road race, never mind state champs, but it’s a road race and deserves to be supported. One gets some knowledge from finding last year’s results. It appears that they ran all senior cats together in one pack – there was quite a small turnout in the elite categories and reasonable in the masters, but not enough to merit splitting the groups. A bit strange but, hey!, it’s different.

This year they planned to run the open 1/2/3/4s together and the other masters cats in a separate group. I registered for the masters because I wasn’t in the mood to get my ass handed to me by some cat 2s and there was the opportunity to work with some teammates who were racing other masters cats as well.

Because of roadworks some of the highway exits were closed off, but we found the staging area after a few missteps. A lot of people (racers and registration folks) had some difficulties with ABR licenses and categorizations and registration was remarkably slow for the moderate numbers there. Once sorted, we head out for a 20 minute warm up and make our way back to the start. After a while the official announces that the masters 30+ and 40+ would join the 1/2/3/4s for one start and the other masters would race together. This evens up pack numbers to 25-30 in each group. Foiled from not being able to ride with my teammates, but not to worry. With no designated number system we simply raise our hands to show which group we belong to. I try to memorise who is who but soon forget. There are 3 cat2s, 4 cat 4s and a bunch of masters. Team Mack came in force but only two of them are in the younger masters fields. The older guys got a bigger turnout, it seems,
because there’s no suitable superweek category for them.

A couple of Team Mack guys punch it from the first turn but in the stiff 15 mph wind they don’t get far and they return to the fold. That was the pattern of the race, a couple of people would try to get a gap but make little headway. Any solo riders who attacked got chased down by one of the teams with 3 or more riders, but none of the teams really tried to make any organized move themselves. With so many cats racing together, they negated each other and nobody was willing to do much work or was even sure who was racing against who.

A stiff wind, quite a few turns and a moderate amount of climbing and descending on some reasonably quiet roads made for a worthy course. Too bad we never really grasped it. The first few miles had a couple of fast right handers, then a few miles on a windy wide road with a shoulder, a sharp left hander followed by a right hander onto a more protected road, a very fast minute long descent to a sharp right and then two reasonable hills, some windy straightaways, a long gradual descent, turn onto a crosswind-ravaged frontage road for a few miles, chicane onto a more sheltered frontage road, leading to a steep minute long hill, then a milelong headwind drag race with a fast downhill and a long false flat to the start/finish line.

The legs were feeling quite heavy and I got gapped a few times going round corners on lap 1. I hung near the back just trying to warm up a bit more, I noticed a few people falling back on the second of the hills but we took it easy on the downhills and it was easy to catch back on. Nothing much happened until we hit the steep uphill before the finish. I big ringed it, some people punched it and the pack split, I hung on to the first group - just about - but it was one of the more painful experiences I’ve had on a bike. Hitting the start of lap 2 we slowed up again and most of the dropped riders caught on again.

I started to feel much better and moved up to the front of the pack to see what was going on. The three Cat 2s jumped away to fight it out and everyone was happy to let them go. Chris from Verdigris attacked several times but he was chased down by a different Project 5 rider each time. That was about it. Guys got gapped several times on the hills and the pack could easily have been whittled down by half had any of the teams decided to push the pace, but nobody did – and we were all one happy little family again coming onto the wide frontage road with about 5 miles to go.

There we hit a head/crosswind and the slow-bike-race began. It was comical. Whoever was in the wind would go slower and slower and the pack would bunch up behind and not allow him to fall back. One or two guys would attack, be let hang for a while and then the pace would increase for a few seconds until they were reeled in. After a while I finally lost my patience and made my way to the front, upped the pace and took a long steady pull for a mile or so. I waggled my elbow like a crazy man but nobody pulled through. I rode onto the white line and the pack duck waddled right behind me, rode over to the yellow line and the pack waddled over obediently behind me, speeded up a bit and they speeded up, slowed down and they slowed down. This is a bit embarrassing, had nobody any shame that a solo rider was able to play such games with them? Apparently not.

It was clear that everybody was settling for a drag race to the finish, whoever could punch it to the top of the hill and then still have enough gas left for the sprint would win, and the groupthink was for everyone to conserve their energy for that. I wasn’t prepared to settle for that so pulled a bit more, but going at about 12 mph. I didn’t want to hit the final steep hill with the pack and I guessed a couple of others would have the same idea, so I wanted to be well placed to jump on to any attack.

I had underestimated the distance to the final hill so decided to embarrass the pack into pulling through. We hit a wider stretch with a shoulder and I rode onto that, with the pack following, but I gradually ride through worse and worse surface, gravel, broken glass and then finally onto the grass verge. It finally clicked that grabbing my wheel might not be a good idea and someone eventually took the responsibility to pull through on the white line, albeit still at slow-bike-race speed. The turn onto the last stretch came up and I hit that first to make sure I wouldn’t get gapped. With a narrower, more sheltered road the pace increased. Chris from Verdigris had one last go and was marked by one of the team riders who was watching him. They maintained a gap so I buried myself and jumped on. Seeing the hill coming up I came round them and got a nice gap of a few seconds hitting the base of the hill. This time I little-ringed it at my own pace and felt good.

The pack caught me halfway up and swarmed round me. I’m a decent climber and was amazed how I went from first to last in about ten seconds. Nobody got gapped this time on the hill either. Wow! I must be a lousy rider! I had no particular interest or much energy for a sprint so I was facing yet another disappointing back-of-the-pack finish. We descend quickly and hit the finishing uphill drag. Then something strange happens, guys start dropping off like flies. I’m just maintaining my speed and people are blowing up left and right. One solo rider who didn’t put his nose in the wind for the full race goes off the front and wins by several bike lengths, I’m waiting for the sprint to start but it never does, the front guys hit a brick wall of wind and fatigue and sort of limp across the line in fairly random fashion - everybody scrunched up into a length of maybe 3 bike lengths or so.. I finish mid to two thirds back in the pack after negotiating my way through the maze of immolated riders who shot their wad on the hill. Looks like my tactic of
getting a gap and riding the hill at my own pace had some merits. Either way, it was the most bizarre finish I’ve ever been part of.

Overall it was a very fun course, a bit too short to test strength and fitness, those who couldn’t or wouldn’t work were never tested. A team willing to push the pace here and there and/or an extra lap could really turn it into a not-to-be missed premier cycling event. I certainly could have finished higher if I had slunk at in the final miles, but I don't see any point in doing that. Racing for 10th place is dumb and I don't learn anything from it or enjoy the experience. I'd much rather finish at the back and know that I, at least, attempted to make it a race. Given that almost all the masters were Cat 3s or better, I guess I did ok. Do those guys who finished just a couple of places ahead of me, without contributing to the race, feel good about it?

So that was it; waited a while to watch the older masters finish – my teammate Dan attacked in the very same place as I and managed to hold the lead before blowing up with 300 yards to go. He was absolutely destroyed coming over the line and couldn’t speak for 20 minutes or so afterwards.

We hung around exchanging war stories for quite a while. There was no sign of any results or officials so most people gave up and headed home – still trying to take the whole bizarre experience in.

This race has fantastic potential. Just make it a little longer and publicise it in a more comprehensible manner and it should easily attract 2-3 times the numbers in a year or two. Posting results a little sooner than two weeks afterwards would also encourage a larger participation.

Proctor Crit - "Doc, I can't feel my legs!"

2009-07-30T00:08:00.004-05:00

Proctor Crit - State Champs

The title sums up my races pretty well. Here goes:

We went round in circles and XXX won.

With only a short drive and plenty of time for sleep I had no excuses for messing up this one, but I contrived to do so anyway. 40 or so of us lined up for the masters 4/5 race. I got an ok'ish 15 minute warm up in. The pace was hectic for the first couple of laps with a fierce wind swirling between the buildings. Super 8 turn course, with wide streets, good road conditions and enough elevation changes to take a bit of the zip out of the sprinters legs. I suffered from the start, lost contact into the headwind on lap 2, legs as dead as they’ve ever been. Just no response whatsoever.

Rolled around with a Team Mack guy for a while, contemplated just bagging it but that wouldn’t be a Sean thing to do. Eventually I warmed up somewhat and I was able to put out some steady state power. Caught a group of 3 stragglers containing a teammate and we two took off - trading turns. At the waist of the figure 8 we could see the main field coming through just over half a lap ahead, they had bunched up, it was clear that they were now settling for the sprint- that meant that the only question now was by how many lengths Mike of XXX would win.

We worked away and actually made up a little bit of time on the field, they had definitely slowed. I was taking all the pulls on the back straight into the wind, teeth gripping the bars to make myself ultra aero – catching and dropping a few more stragglers. With two laps to go I caught sight of a group of 5 ahead and buried myself to catch them. Flew straight past them and a couple jumped on my wheel. I knew that the pace would be picking up and didn’t want to get caught, so I just pulled as hard as I could and went eyeballs out up the finishing straight to avoid the approaching field sprint. I could hear the commentary of the finish as I went around turns 1 and 2, sure enough Mike won the sprint easily, but only by a couple of lengths. I guess I had dropped the others in the last effort so I rolled around easy and finished the race without being lapped and having caught everyone who got dropped. Not much to take comfort from but
I’m glad I never gave up. The steady state engine is fine but the top end comes and goes – I guess I overdid it on some hill repeats two days beforehand. I'll have to be careful about that in the future.

I have to say that the idea of a cat 4 state champion is a bit weird, by definition it only serves to identify those who should already have upgraded. Both the first and second guys in the race would be able to hang with the cat 2s no problem. Maybe they should run it in March so those who target it can race and upgrade, should save them the trouble of micromanaging upgrade points for most of the Summer.

Then it was a three hour shift in sun and wind as a corner marshall followed by a spell looking after the payout table after a racer and his manager (from my favourite blue and white team) badgered the payout guy so much (there was a mixup over results) that he walked away and went home. They then tried the same trick on the club treasurer – to the point that I had to intervene and ask them to step away. They got their payout eventually when we received the correct results but only managed to reinforce their already classless reputation in Illinois cycling – and I’m not the only one who thinks this.

After five hours volunteering, I lined up for the Cat 4 race but feeling dizzy and dehydrated I dropped out on lap 1. Not finishing is weak, but racing when you’re a danger to others and yourself is weaker.

The real story of this race is the superb, flawless organization. Registration was smooth. Course was wonderful, atmospheric - and safe. Little things like the plentiful water supply for all, and the different colour numbers to distinguish those in different age brackets but racing together demonstrated what makes a good race great. Other promoters please note.

The swirling blustery wind made racing difficult, and wasn’t friendly to breakaways but there were some good races. In Cat 3, the Zinkotron went off the front for about 30 minutes, but the pace was so fast that his teammates just couldn’t get to the front to block. He was caught with 5 laps to go and then Burnham racing executed as perfect an end of race strategy as one is likely to see and went 1-2 for their efforts.

I sat down to watch the normal Cat 4 procession and a race actually broke out. There were lots of attacks, PowerBar Ben did his thing about half a dozen times, he'd get chased down by XXX and then XXX would send guys off the front and block. Great to see effective teamwork finally in action. With 5 laps to go XXX's Liam, probably with the largest 10 minute engine in the Cat 4s, went off and nobody chased. XXX blocked and Liam stayed away and won by 20 –30 seconds. Mike of XXX won the field sprint by a facile margin and Joel of Bike Heaven exploded off the front to take third – that guy has the purest natural acceleration I’ve seen in a long time, he was not ignored when they were doling out the cycling genes to the Friedman family. Turned out to be the best race of the day - congrats to XXX for bringing the numbers, executing a plan and reaping their deserved rewards by going 1-2.

It was a super event that sets the Gold Standard on how to organize a race. It was a privilege just to be part of it. Next time I’ll try to bring my legs along.

Cobb Park Criterium

2009-07-01T23:59:00.003-05:00

"We went round in circles and then XXX won"

Six crits this year, six XXX wins. Kinda like Gary Lineker's description of soccer - "You play for 90 minutes and then the Germans win".

To backtrack:

Driving to races on weekends entails endless knob-twiddling , of the radio variety - just as you find a decent station it fades out and the hunt begins again. The only constant is that an NPR station somewhere at all times will be playing A Prairie Home Companion - a show that I dislike because Garrison Keillor's voice and manner just rubs me all wrong, I learned to detest it when he insisted on singing on it as well. We'll catch Klik and Klak, maybe Wait, Wait Don't tell me!, then a program about Mormon adoptions until we're ambushed by that annoying growl and the realization that someone with no ability or musicality is insisting on singing on the radio - just because he can. Double-black flip, puch the button and the search for another NPR station resumes, safe for another hour until GK invades that station's airwaves to assault our eardrums again and the ritual repeats.

Driving to Kankakee, going through the "Whoa, Incoming!" motions of ducking and running from the Keillor assault, the thought struck me: Me doing Crits is like GK singing , yes, it's possible to do it, but does anyone involved enjoy it?

I'm lousy at crits, haven't got a fasttwitch muscle fiber in my body, corner poorly, each acceleration slaughters me with lactic, sketchy cat 4s scare me, guys I beat easily in cross, who train about 3 hours a week, whizz by me as I get dropped - you get the picture. To me, criteriums are an artificially-stupid form of bike racing enthusiastically adopted by crash-happy Yanks because it's close to impossible to get a permit for a road race in the US.

So why am I going to Kankakee to race 2 crits? Because any race the the South Chicago Wheelmen, one of the most grassroots-active clubs in Illinois, puts on is bound to be good and deserves support. I also need a tuneup to avoid shaming myself at Proctor the next week. Practicing what you're lousy at is usually a good way to improve skills, and heck! I just love to race my bike.

CAt 4, 39 starters, 25 finishers:
For the second time this year I arrive late because of some goofy directions from Google maps - it's mapquest for me from now on. I grab my bike and pull on my kit, but the race should already have started. Luckily, they were running a few minutes late; the lady at registration walked me over to the start, took my name off the DNS list, got me to sign the waiver and pinned me up. How cool is that?

Made it with a couple of minutes to spare. Exchanged some pleasantries with MJH2 and Psi from Bike Heaven and we're off! Wildcard set a blinding pace and by 3 laps in my coffee of a couple of hours previously was set to come up. had to drop off and soft pedal, dry retching for a couple of minutes. Sweat was streaming off me and I was seriously overheated. Rolled a couple of laps with another dropped rider and waited for the pack to come round again.

What a great course! Essentially flat, in great condition with 3 turns (2 fast, 1 slow) and a chicane to make things interesting. All left turns, which for some reason I ride much better than right turns. Safe as well, with a couple of long straights to allow passing without too much problem. A lively wind forced one to keep concentrating to find the best draft and easiest places to move up. Best of all were neighbors having parties on their lawns and really getting into things.

The pack comes round again, I jump onto the back and last a lap. Still too fast, and I'm simply not warmed up. Get together with a few other stragglers and I mostly pull them around for several laps. With about 15 mins to go we get lapped again, I jump on and have no problem staying on until the end of the race. They've slowed quite a bit and I'm now reasonably warmed-up. More than half of the 39 starters got shelled off the back in this race so I'm in good company. Roll around at the back and out of harm's way for the rest of the race and am happy that I didn't book a DNF., despite being sorely tempted to do so earlier on. The braking in this race was crazy, the last two corners and the chicanes were ridiculous accordeon fests, even though only one of the turns required and care and could easily be negotiated without braking.

btw, XXX won.

Master's 4/5: 40something starters, 34 finishers

With an hour to kill I just sat in the shade to cool down and drank multiple bottles of water. Recovered quickly and was ready to start the Master's race. Mission: don't get dropped!

I was much more aggressive about maintaining position in the first few laps and it worked. The race was much smoother, most had already ridden the cat 4 race and were familiar with the course, and there was much less braking. Still, turn 3 was taken way too sketchily. One XXX dude had the squealiest brakes ever on his Hed Stingers, he'd touch the brakes and it sounded like a pileup about to happen and every body else would brake in sympathy. After a while I drifted towards the back and practiced the technique of dropping slightly off the back and coasting through the turns to avoid the accordeon effect and saving energy. It's a lot safer as well. Mostly worked but I did have to put in some digs to catch back on when we hit the wind into the finishing straight.

About 30 mins in (15 to go) the pack started to slow quite a bit and I found myself coasting up to halfway without trying. I was starting to feel good, and getting kinda bored, so I decided to stretch the legs a bit to see what would happen. Kind of my way of shaking my tiny fist at the dominating XXX Cat 4 world. We hit the long start finish straight, I accelerated up the leeward side of the pack, trying to telegraph my attack, and punched it off the front for all I was worth. After half a lap I looked back, I had a huge gap of a few hundred yards but nobody tried to come with me. Managed to stay away for two laps (a teammate bridged up on lap two but I was already tapped out and couldn't do anything) and enjoyed the experience of taking the turns at my chosen speed without being forced to brake. Then I retired to my favourite position at the back to recover and to wait to see what would happen.

In true Cat 4 fashion everybody decided to wait for the sprint. The pace never perceptibly increased until we heard the bell. Steve from SCW gave it his all for a third of a lap in order to lead out his teammates. Nobody responded too urgently. I was expecting the race to string out, whereupon I would apply some power for two minutes and hopefully gobble up quite a few places, but it never happened. A few guys near the front took off but the rest just bunched up into turn 2, accordeoned through the chicane, and braked and bunched into the final turn. I had no real chance to get by and only managed to pass a couple of riders in the straight. Still and all, I was happy with not getting dropped and redeeming some pride.

Oh yeah, some dude from XXX won.

Big props to South Chicago Wheelmen for putting on such a superbly-organized, affordable race. Great, enjoyable venue and very safe. The locals were well into it and that made it doubly-enjoyable.

It was worth it for the older retired couple who sat near the finish for most of the day. The husband didn't say much, but his wife explained that he was French and missed bike racing a lot. Whenever they feel like it, they drive up from Springfield to a race and spend the day spectating. The husband makes notes on the racers, spots those who have good form and tries to predict who will win. I hope when I'm that age that I'll still be so passionate.

It was worth it for the smile on the faces of the little kids with the 25c Lemonade stand set up outside their house. I gave the little girl a dollar, she jumped for joy, filed it in her toy cash register and filled up my water bottle with some deliciously cool lemonade.

It was worth it for the little dog on the sidewalk with the dead Elvis face ... ok, i made that one up.

To be able to bring delight to myself and others by simply riding my bike around in circles - that gives me joy, that makes everything worthwhile. And Garrison Keillor be damned!

Hey, Ladies!

2009-06-30T00:34:00.000-05:00

In 2008 the Proctor Cycling Classic directors, in order to boost up the number of racers from the previous year's six, increased the prizelist for the Womens P12 race to $1000 - four turned up.

This year, with a still substantial $500 purse on offer, exactly zero P12 riders registered. That's a big round duck egg. Does anybody care? It's pretty clear that Women's racing in IL is in a parlous state, but when not one rider bothers to come to the State Championship - is it worth rescuing? For shame, Ladies! Weak!

O'Fallon Grand Prix

2009-06-01T18:02:00.000-05:00

At EvilDan's request - I conducted extensive interviews with all of Proctor's racers today.

Here are the results:

Masters 40+ open:
Me: "How'd you do Greg?"
Greg S.: "First there were seven in the break, then we were six, then we were five, then we were four after the guy went into the ditch. then we were three after we dropped the guy who wouldn't work, coming up the hill we were two, coming around the bend to the finish we were one - that was me"

Cat 3:
Greg: "Dan, were you in that crash?"
Dan D: "Greg, I WAS the crash!"
Matt B (regretfully): "Yeah, Dan WAS the crash"

Cat 4:
Chris S. (on being caught by the Cat 4/5 pack)
Me:"Come on, Chris!"
Chris: (mutters something incomprehensible about younger women, gray hairs, inadvisability of riding a new bike for the first time in a race and how he definitely is NOT entitled to race as a Master).

Masters 50+ Open
Gary Doering: "So Dan, would you prefer to be dropped on the hill or in the sprint?"
Dan H.: "You can drop me in the sprint please, Gary"

Cat 4/5
Me (to XXX racer):"Wanna try a breakaway?"
XXX racer: "No thanks. I think I fancy my chances in the sprint"
Me (to Wild Card racer): "C'mon dude! Let's push it! Just gutter these guys and we can fight it out!"
Wild Card racer: "Thanks but no thanks. I'd much rather wait for the sprint"
Me: (with 7 miles to go):"Come on! We got six and a thirty yard gap into a headwind. Grab my wheel and let's go! There's no way we can get caught!"
Other five: "Very much obliged, but we're feeling optimistic about the sprint"
Post-race
Jason R: "I was feeling good for the sprint but I got caught behind that crash with 3 miles to go"
Tim L: "I was waiting for the sprint but I cramped"
XXX racer: "I spent so much energy trying to catch the two guys who broke with a mile to go that I had nothing left and came last in the sprint"
Wild Card racer:"After my teammate broke I sprinted as hard as I could for the podium spot, but all these guys who had done nothing during the race came around me and they were just way faster"
Me: "I got in a race with 35 sprinters and 1 diesel"

Women's Open
Vanessa: "Woo! Show us your kit, David! Woo! I think that guy's naked over there! Woo! I got second!"

Comeuppance

2009-05-27T19:48:00.000-05:00

Remember at Leland Kermesse I mentioned how I had noticed a Cat 4 illegally drafting the Cat 3 chase group for half the race, even though he was told several times not to? He drafted his way to 5th place in a horrendously hard race while other folks busted their ass just to finish with pride and honesty.

Well, the same guy was up to more shenanigans last weekend at the ABD masters crit weekend. He sprinted his way to top 4 placings on Saturday and Sunday in the 40+4s, winning $20 on Sunday and with good chances of winning the weekend overall and the $100 that goes with it. One mistake though, he seemed to have forgotten that his age is revealed on his team website and on USACycling - he ain't 40. Big mistake.

He must have ticked off more than me because at the start of the 40+/4 race on Monday they made an announcement that a racer was DQ'd from all 3 weekend races and was being forced to hand back his prizemoney - someone else had cottoned on to his nonsense and informed the officials. Congrats to ABR for taking decisive action. If it's possible, I hope he gets his USAcycling license suspended as well. Just once, a cheat gets exposed. The irony is, the guy's a strong allaround rider with a good sprint, shouldn't need to cheat to do well.

The same weekend, that team's manager was warned 3 times, and fined, for misbehavior at the Duluth Stage Race.

Snake Alley Crit

2009-05-26T23:40:00.000-05:00

Cat 4/12 laps/65 starters/39 finishers

Still recovering from the wreck of 6 weeks ago, training plenty but unable to do any intensity without my legs locking up. One would think that Snake Alley is the worst possible race to do, and one would be right - however I had already paid my money and wanted to experience the most famous crit in the midwest just once.

Not a lot to say about this except that it showcased my two biggest weaknesses, accelerations and downhill cornering. Nothing can prepare you for the shock to the system that is the opening two laps of this race. I went from a good starting position to halfway when we hit the snake, to two thirds of the way back by the time we hit the top. I thought I had decent strength but guys I can usually beat easily in cross were rocketing past me as I hit my max power for the 30 secs up the hill. Same story on lap 2 where i fell even further behind. The hill was dog rough and I was having some problems with my front wheel lifting - plenty of shoulder bumping which I always enjoy.

Laps 3 and 4 I found some better lines, rode the Snake much smoother and started to get the hang of the corners. People were starting to blow up already and I was beginning to pick off and pass people. My slowtwitch diesel engine self was now coming out to play and I was optimistic about moving up for the rest of the race.

Then I got pulled.

I pulled over and waited for the leaders to come through - which they did, quite a while later.
The pace had slowed up considerably after the insanity of the first two laps - a lead group of 4 or so, chase group of six and second chase group of about 10. All separated by 10-15 seconds. Everybody too exhausted to attack and just trying to save themselves for the hill.

That was how it played out until the the last lap. Nothing much happened until the pace increased for the final dash. Skinny-ass teens came first and second, older geezer came third. So goes it.

What I took from the race - My trips up the hill were probably the most intense experiences I have had on a bike, that is something I will remember forever. The corners weren't as bad as I had expected and I need to work on this over the summer. Don't know what I can do about the start - my sprint power is close to untrained level and I have had very little success in trying to change it. I think I was one of the last to be pulled, so if I can just corner with more confidence I should at least be able to finish the race.

Not sure why the officials pulled so aggressively in some races and allowed folks to get lapped in other races and impede others. I'm all in favor of doing what it takes to ensure safety, but it's usual to give riders a chance and pull them when it's clear that they are just about to be lapped. Even at my slowest, it would have take 3 or 4 more laps for me to be caught, and, given the marked slowing of the pace, I think I even stood a fair chance of finishing unlapped. Pulling so early for merely being out of contention is disappointing. Such is life.

Stayed on and showed my support for the rest of the races and spent quite a while noting the cornering techniques of the good guys. Tilford is a master.

The rest of the weekend was unremarkable. I decided there was no point in doing the quad cities crit because the 14 lap race lasts 22 minutes and I wouldn't even be warmed up at that stage. Drove up there to spectate anyway and enjoyed it. Highlight of the day was getting passed on I-80 by a Smart car doing over 90 mph - in the middle of a torrential shower, with traffic cops every five miles. Someone's got cojones! Second-best part was seeing Steve Tilford take the bunch sprint for 3rd place. How a skinny 49 year old with no noticeable upper or lower body can beat out some of the musclebound midwest sprinting divas is a mystery to me - I guess Steve knows how to work them over.

193 Wins

2009-05-26T23:12:00.001-05:00

193 top professional wins in these legs. 18 years pro racing, nine Monuments, one Grand Tour

Finchford Roubaix

2009-05-11T21:02:00.000-05:00

Seven laps of a 5.5 mile rectangular circuit. Some small hills and a deceptively fast downhill corner that sent several 3s and 12s into the ditch. Wouldn't have been a challenging course if it wasn't for the brutal 20+ mph crosswind - that made it a grinding race of attrition.

They sure breed 'em big in Iowa. I felt that I had the smallest legs in the race - and I'm no midget. I noted a couple of wobbly riders to avoid, and sure enough, the most unsteady guy was the one who violated the yellow line multiple times in the crosswind.

Been 5 weeks since my Hillsboro crash and I'm still recovering. Put in plenty of time on the bike but haven't been able to do any intensity - it showed. Started yo-yoing off the back on the 2nd lap, 3 hours sleep and 4.5 hours driving had me cornering even worse than usual. Got popped at the end of lap 3, joined up with another popped rider and rotated until we got caught by two more. Did some good echeloning for 3 laps and caught nearly a dozen stragglers on the last lap, but had no idea what cat they were in, bib #s were in order of registration and had no bearing on the race category.

One guy bridged off the front on the last lap, we were all hurting and couldn't follow. Iit looks like I won the sprint (50 yard dash) out of our four man chase group. Didn't see any actual line so I was just guessing about the exact finish.

Enough about me; I finished (Sean would have) - quite a few didn't. The real story is the superb grassroots race Finchford Roubaix turned out to be. Only $20 entry fee, generous lunch provided (saving at least $10) and very respectable payout put many larger events to shame. Best thing was the large number of volunteers and the considerable emphasis on safety throughout. At least 3 volunteers coordinating each corner, stopping traffic so that anyone swinging out wide would not be in danger and keeping any inconvenienced drivers in good humor. Not fun to stay out there in the howling wind for a full day, but very much appreciated. This race deserves a lot more support and I'm already putting the word out for next year. Grassroots racing as it should be.

Here's a more interesting report.

Dangerous Dan Hill takes the W
-----------------------------------

Call him what you like - known variously as Dangerous Dan Hill, Desperate Dan, EvilDan, Daddy to his kids, Honeybunny to his wife and Wheelsucker to his teammates - Dangerous Dan came to Iowa's Finchford Roubaix road race with the sole intention of adding to the number of illustrious wins that Proctor Cycling has been picking up this season.

Despite the impediment of six fingers on his left hand, Dan still has plenty of space to count up the uphill sprints he has lost in the past few years; and he wasn't interested in adding to the number.

Six laps of a 20+mph crosswind-ravaged four-corner course lay between Dan and destiny. It would require a masterclass in wheelsucking and shelter-seeking; and the master was up to the job. After four laps of false attacks and suicidal solobreaks the winning break got away, three Mercy/Specialized teammates, a tapped-out non-pulling hanger on, and Dan. Dan sized them all up, took his pulls and salivated at the thought of the finish.

300 meters to go and EvilDan comes out to play. The finish is an uphill into a strong wind coming from the left. The pace accelerates, Magic Dan sneaks to the front and moves to the right. The skinny-ass climber is alone into the wind and has no chance, right? 200 meters to go and the other three try to come around on the left, instantly providing Crafty Dan the shelter he needs. He takes a breath, regroups and slingshots off the front just as the slope kicks up, taking the win rather handily.

"I got in a break with three time trialists and showed them how to sprint" said Dan. Win he did, and he still has a thumb and a couple of fingers left to count off any lost uphill finishes.

Fancy Dan goes home with a fat wad of cash to wave at the family and is formulating plans for midwest masters domination and dreaming of a trip to Disney World with his winnings.

Call him what you like, but add Winner Dan to the list of epithets.

Shattered - Leland Kermesse report

2009-04-27T21:45:00.000-05:00

Not a good week at work. Major layoffs announced on Tuesday. Those affected informed on Friday. I survived, but I guess the stress got to me. Woke up on Saturday morning feeling absolutely shattered. Eyes were like beetroots, took me an hour to roll out of bed, weird. Not much enthusiasm for racing, but I feel all road races deserve support. Grabbed some brekkie, loaded car and made it to Leland for noon - 30 minutes before the Cat 4 start time.

Just enough time to register, pin on number and spin round the parking lot before rolling up to the line. I was scared to try any hard efforts because I didn't want to know how lousy I felt. Hoped that the first lap would be nice and slow in the 20+mph wind so I could get a chance to warm up. It was not to be.

I was astonished to see Ben Popper start in the Cat 4s. He has a UCI license, places in the top 20 in UCI CX races, and has an ftp in 5 w/kg range. I know he's not done much road racing but this is a bit ridiculous. Signs were ominous and i didn't heed them

We rolled out of the parking lot for the neutral start and this is where the race was already lost. With a ferocious crosswind and very high humidity all I wanted to do was hide and hang on. Not something Sean would do. In hindsight, I should have just swallowed the extra effort and booted it towards the front at the first opportunity, not caring too much about the wind. Instead I was so obsessed with positioning to the leeward side that I forgot about how far from the front I was. Riders were hugging the margin to prevent being forced into the wind by riders sneaking in and several people ended up riding in the dirt because of this. Soon as we hit the crosswind the race started to come apart, the first 10 or so riders bunched up and then it was a long line of guttered fools trying to eke out a little draft. A rider would let a gap form, I'd close it, rinse, repeat etc multiple times. The race shattered in the first 3 miles. My quads burnt like never before and with about half a mile before the turn out of the wind I had to let the gap go. Maintained a steady pace but was about 40 yards behind as we hit the turn into the tailwind. One guy was sheltering on my wheel and then a huge gap to the next guy and about half of the field spread behind him. I felt totally destroyed.

Hitting the turn I saw that Ben and a Venezuelan guy were ring off the front, a group of about 6 desperately chasing with another 10 or so in a varying state of disarray trying to close a gap.

The big Team Pegasus guy on my wheel came around and set a 30 mph pace with the tailwind. I was able to hold his wheel and recover somewhat. We mopped up a few stragglers, started up a paceline with a XXX rider and began to motor, blowing a couple of guys out the back in the process. I started to feel good and would make good progress leading into the wind while Pegasus really laid down some speed in other sections. it turned out to be a really fun course, with lots of high speed corners and twists to test your echeloning skills and wind-sheltering savvy. We were motoring along really well, the first group were out of contact but we were only 10 seconds or so behind the second large bunch of chasers and I felt confident we would catch them and end up fighting it out for some top 10 placings.

There were quite a few potholes and scattered gravel on the road, nothing that wasn't hard to avoid, but about a mile before the dirt section my rear wheel went flat and I had to pull over. What would Kelly do? Fix that flat and finish his race of course. Giving up and facing a lifetime of 6 am cow-milking to survive is not an option to be considered. Replaced the pinch-flatted tube in a couple of minutes (being passed by the rest of the Cat 4s, 5s and 123s) and proceeded to pump it up. Got some air in but it refused to pump up any more - the valve core had come off and lodged in the pump head. Lousy Performance tubes! That was the end of my race. Hitched a lift back to the start (Thanks Bob) and hung around to watch a couple of laps. First ever flat in a road race and first DNF.

The biggest surprise was that there was a cat 4 racer even stronger than Ben. They worked together and by the end of lap 2 had built up an enormous lead over the rest of the field. The Venezuelan guy had a bit more in the tank and took the win in the end. I think that both of these guys would have easily won the 123 race as well. My little chase group never latched on to the group we were chasing and the three remaining members rode the rest of the race by themselves. That's fortitude - I'm truly sorry that I wasn't there to work with them.

Incidents of note were a postal carrier pickup that nearly took out most of the 123 field by cutting the turn onto the dirt road at speed - no brakes, no indicator, nothing - showing total and dangerous disregard for anyone on a bike. I think some people may have gotten a photo of this and it deserves to be brought to the post office's attention.

The Dirt road was nothing - 2 relatively smooth clear lines. 23 mm tires would have been fine.
There was a terrific thundershower on the last lap that made things interesting. Props to everybody who finished out the race in it. True Hardmen/women.

Some very blatant illegal drafting going on as well. One cat 4 (in a blue/white kit) rode most of the race in the main 123 chase group - not cool.

There were also a huge amount of flats and DNFs. Circuit races and rough weather are conducive to this - abandonment is very appealing, but it seemed to be disproportionately high. The results aren't out yet so we'll have to see what the real numbers were.

All in all, it was a super race course with lots of challenging features. The exceptionally high winds and threatening conditions made life exceptionally hard, but there was some indefinable charm about the race that will draw everybody who did it back for years to come.

The early double-flat was a bummer but I still learned a lot. Be aggressive about getting to the front and expect the hammer to go down early when the conditions are windy. A good warm-up and keen concentration are essential. Already planning for next year.