put away your road bike damnit!

It's almost here

D2R2, 2010 is coming. Get your dirt fix.

Morning CX

I like morning cx. Especially when there are more than just two of us. Eight brave souls endured the August temperatures and early wake up call to hit the new and improved Lars Anderson course.

Robert Hale outdid himself with the new additions. Many of the elements from last year are still in play but we've eliminated some of the leg bursting climbs and boring straights and replaced them with leg bursting run ups and extreme staircase dropoffs (which some folks managed just fine in road shoes).

6-7 minute laps, enough turns to keep you on your toes and greatly improve your driving skills, and a morning view that will replace your need for morning coffee (unless you are PVB who went to 7-11 for coffee before the ride...seriously).

I think we are on track for regular Wednesday morning sessions. The new course is even less dependent on cones so setup and tear down is a breeze and you all can get out there and ride without me (not that you would want to, but you could).
Time to toughen up the hands for cx season.

We had some new faces this week and I hope we have even more new faces as the fall approaches. CX!!!!

Working Man's Stage Race recap

Before taking off for vacation, I decided to sample the Working Man's Stage Race. Here are some miscellaneous thoughts.

1. You definitely need to leave Boston by 3:30 each day to make it in time for the 5:30 sign-ins.

2. The group running the event (mostly Armand but also a group of well organized volunteers) are quite friendly and accommodating. Perhaps because the attitudes of the participants was more relaxed and friendly compared to your typical weekend road race with 80+ participant fields.

3. The first stage was the TT. It's a lot of effort to get up to Amesbury for what ends up being a 15-17 minute effort but the course is fun and definitely rewards people with TT equipment. A few people missed turns or were even directed incorrectly by the nonchalant police officers directing traffic but in Armand's defense, he did mark the course with green blazes that I was able to follow (it would have been nice if they mentioned this, as well as the final right turn to the finish line in the rider's meeting though).

4. Having clip on aero bars and exactly one other TT ride with said equipment this year is not enough to actually do well. I was satisfied with my 10th place but I think I could have been in the top 6 if I practiced my TT more.

5. The road race uses much of the same route as the TT, slightly extending the route to make for 8.5 mile laps. Again, I liked the course and with the smaller than average field (40) it felt safe despite the narrow roads.

6. The ECV boys had 4 or 5 in the top 10 after the TT so they tried to control the road race. They failed, lost the leader's jersey and had a few riders rightfully relegated for blatant disregard of the yellow line rule. There was also a CCB rider who seemed oblivious to the yellow line rule (maybe because he didn't speak English?). I don't understand why that one is so hard to follow.

7. I know I am never going to win a sprint finish so I decided to go for some KOM points. The climb suited me well and I picked up enough points for 3rd place (shoulda contested the first lap) and a whopping $10.

8. I tried to stay away a few times after the KOM but the field pretty easily gobbled me up on the fast descent so I resigned myself to finishing with the group, taking home 12th place and avoiding the almost-crash caused by an ECV rider making a diagonal sprint from left to right of the field in the last 100m. That was good enough to move me into 8th place with just the points race left.

9. The points race was a comedy of errors. My wife and mother-in-law picked me up at work so we could all go together. I had just installed my father's old roof rack that morning and it was not looking good.

10. Fast forward about 45 miles and I'm zipping up 95, fearing a late arrival when the rack lets go and flies off the roof with the bike! Slam on my brakes while watching cars avoid it in my rear view. I run down the left lane of the highway and scramble to pick up the pieces, most of which were still attached, including the bike. Since we had a car load already with baby seat, 3 passengers, and stroller, I had to shove parts all over the place to make it fit. The bike seemed fine except for a torn seat, brake hood, and tire/tube.

11. Once everything was packed in the car, I floored it, knowing I had some repair work to do. We got to the race track about 30 minutes before our start. I happened to have a spare tire with me and the wheel was only a little out of true. I fixed both and taped the hood back together enough to ride. The bike seemed fine (thanks aluminum handlebars!) and I did some hard efforts to make sure nothing was cracked.

12. The points race was a blur. I told myself I needed 8-10 total points to move up on the GC into the top 5. My strategy was to go for every other sprint (once every 10 laps out of 60). I pretty quickly realized it was mayhem and I had no clear wheel to follow so I repeatedly pulled up in 5th or 6th. I managed to score 1 point (4th place) before the half way sprint.

13. Almost immediately after the half way sprint I felt my rear tire going soft. Of course I was towards the front, on the inside of the track and could not easily get out of the way so I stuck my hand up and yelled out FLAT and hoped people would come around me safely which they did.

14. The Threshold crew had pit wheels and told me to grab one which was very nice of them (side bar: have you noticed the Threshold squad is the nicest group at the races? Seriously, they may want to crush you but they also want to be your friend and help you out in unfortunate situations). In my frantic state, while trying to change the wheel I noticed it was rubbing but figured I could make it work and at least hang in the field.

15. I hopped back in mid pack and rode comfortably for 4 or 5 laps, noting that the rubbing brake was definitely slowing me down. After 9 or 10 laps I was drifting further and further back until finally, with about 10 to go I was one wheel, two wheel, three wheel off the back with no hope of re-attaching. From then on, I just tried to stay on the lead lap. Unfortunately with 2 to go, one of the 36 Goguens that was racing attacked off the front and slowly started reeling me in. He caught me with 1.5 to go and the rest of the field caught me with .5 to go.

16. I dropped two places in the overall (finishing 10th) and spent way more in gas than I did on the entry fee. It was a fun experience, one that I might even consider doing again if the starts align again.

Oh yeah, while on vacation this week I submitted an upgrade request and was approved for my Cat 3 license. It just goes to show that podiums and wins are not required to move up a step to Cat 3. In fact, I only have 10 road race starts in the last three years, so that doesn't matter either. Of course, I'm retiring from road racing now so that Cat 3 sticker will just be collecting dust...

cx'y baby

Rain Delay

Earlier this month I spent a long week in my favorite place, Montana. I brought my riding shoes, pedals, and clothes since my father-in-law is an avid cyclist and has a plethora of bikes in my size. The first weekend I was there, we went for a mellow mountain bike ride leaving from his house. The last time I did this loop with him was during a September visit. The temp dropped 30 degrees during the ride and it started snowing on us. The loop includes a 5 mile paved road section, then a 4 mile dirt road and singletrack climb, then a 4 mile descent from the mountain tops above his house down to the driveway. Yeah, mellow, right? The terrain was not particularly technical, which is good because I was riding his old rigid full suspension Schwinn with v-brakes, but it was a great way to welcome a relaxing week.


During the week, there is a Wednesday night mtb ride. They picked a route that included 9 miles of dirt road climbing and about 6 miles of singletrack descending. For this one, I secured a much more functional and modern full suspension Ventana 29er. The bigger wheels made the climbing a breeze. I never got comfortable on the bike on the descent, mostly because the suspension was tuned to be so stiff I think. At the end of the ride, a Weber Q grille covered in Elk steaks, homemade sausages, and steak tips was waiting for us, as were two or three coolers of ice cold beer. They do it right out there!

The real treat of the week though, came thanks to a flight cancellation on our return. We were seated, ready for takeoff when the pilot told us O'Hare was closing inbound flights for the next 3 hours. I went back to the in-law's house and dragged my father-in-law out on the road bikes to ride up to the local high point. Their house is at about 4,000ft and the high point, called Skalkaho Pass is 7,250ft. It's a simple out and back route, 26.5 miles each way.

I was given the old (like 1968) Schwinn Paramount with the 21mm tires, the downtube shifters, 36mm wide handlebars, and 53-42 gearing. A true 10 speed with Campy Super Record parts that would make an antique collector proud. I actually enjoy riding this bike when I am there. It is very humbling compared to my 16lb carbon race bike or even my more modern Zanconato. My father-in-law even rode this bike across the country when he was in his early 20s, so it holds a special place in his heart too.

Anyway, we set out for Skalkaho Pass, riding together on the paved road for about 12 miles. At that point my father-in-law turned around while I decided to charge on, past the waterfall, to the summit. It's an 11 mile climb to the summit. The road switches to gravel about 4 miles in and since it was recently graded, it was nice and soft (and dusty). About half way to the summit I realized, although I had a pump and spare tube, I did not have tire irons. Fingers crossed, I really didn't want to use his nice Campy Super Record skewers to pry an old 21mm tire off the rim.

My father-in-law had warned that since it was a Sunday, Skalkaho Highway (yeah, this road is actually called a highway!) might be busy with people coming back from the lake on the other side. Busy by Montana standards is ghost town by Boston standards. I might have seen a dozen cars the whole time.

I made the summit, enjoyed a brief rest, and some snow, before turning around for the descent. At first I took it kind of easy, not wanting to risk a flat, but eventually my hands got tired from clamping the um, less than effective, brakes so I let it rip for a while. I think the road is a pretty steady 3-5% grade so you don't get going out of control fast, just fast enough to enjoy it.

Once I made it back to the pavement, I completely let off the brakes and made quick work of the remaining 12 miles back to the house. I had been looking forward to the huckleberry pie that was left over from lunch but apparently my father-in-law was too because he had finished it already. That's alright, I'll trade huckleberry pie for Skalkaho summit any day!

In summary, if I ever disappear, come searching for me in Montana, on Skalkaho Pass because there is a good chance that's where I'll be.

Killington Stage Race, day 1

Rapha Gentleman's Race v2.0

Hup was invited for the second coming of the east coast Rapha gentleman's race. The first iteration was a challenging bonding experience in New Paltz, NY. This one was an even more challenging route starting and ending at Mohawk "Mtn" just outside Litchfield, Connecticut. A similar version of the route was ridden by the Rapha crew a few years ago. Rumor is that some of them couldn't even finish it. For some unknown reason, PVB decided to up the ante for the Gentleman's Race. The route was increased to 116 miles and it included close to 40% dirt and gravel roads including three Zoncolan-esque climbs that had to submitted in the saddle to avoid spinning out in the dirt.

The crew below lined up along with 15 other teams to tackle the monster. We started at 9:45, 15 minutes behind the first wave and 45 minutes ahead of the last wave.

The other team that started with us was the Eastmans. Honestly, they were a very unintimidating looking bunch of 40-50+ year old guys that appeared to be ill equipped for the gravel that we were promised. We rolled together for the first 5 miles or so and then they slowly rolled away. Mur was pretty sure we'd see them by mile 80 totally cooked.

Shortly after the Eastmans rolled away, we started catching some of the squads that started ahead of us. We saw the IF crew, the Seven crew, the Bilenky crew on their tandems, and the Geekhouse guys (in skinsuits!). The terrain was mostly rolling western Connecticut hills. The course was well marked and it quickly became clear that we could expect to always turn onto or follow the dirt roads we saw. The miles ticked away, Mur made sure we ate and then it happened. Our first flat tire. Mike B had a slow leak up front after a gravel road. Too many cooks in the kitchen led to a 7 minute tube change and all the teams we'd passed rolled past.

We got going again and picked up a few of the squads as we started to hit the real hills. Our spirits were high and we ticking away the miles again, even pace lining when the terrain allowed for it. We screamed into the first rest stop at mile 30 still comfortable in second place. We made it a quick stop, topped off water, signed in, and jetted off just in time to see the "Pedro's" team accompanied by an unidentifiable squad pulling into the same stop. They'd started about 15 minutes behind us and loaded with some extremely strong last minute additions, we were fully expecting them to overtake us.

Impressively, we held them off for another 10 or so miles until we once again hit some hills. We rolled together into the first really steep gravel road climb where they pulled away, not to be seen again.
After Pedro's powered through, we didn't see another team for 30 or more miles. We settled into our own groove, ate more clif bars, swallowed more magic endurolyte pills, and joked away the miles.
Then we hit THE climb. I don't even know if the road has a name but it certainly had an attitude. It was one car wide and was more like a forest service road than an actual route. The dirt road started pitching up around mile 60. We had varying climbing abilities in the crew so everyone just sought their happy pace and chipped away one pedal stroke at a time. As we continued up, the dirt turned to gravel and at points, it even turned to rocks. It was nearly impossible to stand as the pitch ranged from 10-20% over what seemed like 10 miles (though it was probably only 3 or 4). We started to descend as a group and were passed by two more teams but both of them were missing members so they were technically dsq. As an aside, who sets out for a team race and leaves their teammate behind (alone) at mile 65 of 116? That's not very "teamly" if you ask me.


The descent was fun. It was mostly smooth dirt and then turned to paved road. We had a warning on the cue sheet that there were some tight switchback turns along the route but it wasn't until I was nailing the brakes, extending the leg moto style and praying not to hit the camera man in the apex of the first turn that I remembered about these. That was a close call. I definitely thought I was going to nail the Honda Pilot parked in the corner (hopefully there is some video of my horrendous descending skills).
The next rest stop was advertised around mile 65 (or so I thought). I really should have paid more attention at the captain's meeting. We were still descending in the woods at mile 65 and most of us were out of water, thinking we were close. We found an angel on the route at mile 68. A bewildered woman out gardening agreed to serve us ice cold water from her garden hose. It was the most delicious water I've had in a long time.

We came up on the actual rest stop at mile 71. We topped off with water, signed in, and exited ahead of the three teams that had passed us since our last ascent. The checkpoint folks promised only a small climb still ahead but our cue sheet seemed to imply otherwise. I wasn't in a mood to challenge them so we rolled off expecting that the worst was behind us. We rolled for about 3 miles on a gentle uphill as the faster teams once again passed us.
There was definitely more than just a little climb left. Holy crap! We took the right turn onto the dirt road and started the climb. I could see an endless uphill slope that eventually turned to the left. Expecting that the climb was .5-1 mile long, I settled into a reasonable pace with my head down. The dirt was reasonably hard so occasional standing efforts were ok. I just tried to forget about the never ending hill and focus one pedal stroke at a time. As I turned left, I could see the hill continue back to the right, then again to the left. I started catching some of the Embro guys as everyone just tried to settle into their own rhythm to get over the hill. The switchbacks got steeper and looser until finally the tree cover started to open up and I had a confident sense that I was near the top. One final crest to the exposed summit looking over a swap and some far off mountains.

At the top we regrouped again. I had time to look at the profile in more detail and it was clear that the worst of the climbing was behind us but despite a lot of descending to come in the next 30+ miles, we definitely still had a few short steep efforts before the finish.

With all six teammates in tow, we set off down a gravely descent that was not nearly as steep as the ascent had been. We got the paceline going and ticked away the next 20+ miles with relative ease, even catching some teams while they addressed mechanical issues.

Then, flat #2 hit us. Chip was off the bike, changing his front flat in no time. Letting him work on it himself, he was back up and running in less than 2 minutes. PRO. On we went until around mile 95 we spotted a random bate and tackle shop with sodas and water for sale. We refueled, unloaded our bladders, and got back to the task at hand.

Before the finishing hills, we were routed onto a dirt road along the Housatonic River. There were a lot of people fishing and a lot of railroad crossings but very few cars. We took up the whole road, just trying to keep the pace above 16 mph and get to the finish line. Despite the shattered feeling in my arms and neck, that stretch was among my favorite parts. I felt like I could ride for hours as my Zank just floated over the rough surface. Truly magical, in the zone type of moment.

When we got back on paved roads we were around mile 105 I think. That's when we hit the appropriately named Everest Hill. Thanks PVB. What we really wanted after 8 hours and 9000 ft of climbing was another .5 miles and 400 ft. At least it was paved though.

After we climbed Everest, the rest was easy cruising. We saw Mohawk Mtn about 1.5 miles before the turn back to the finish but that 1.5 miles didn't matter. We survived. We finished in good spirits, with only 2 flat tires, and no in-fighting.

We were recorded as the 7th team back but 3 of those teams - Pedros, Adler, and BH/Louis Garneau had dropped riders along the way so they were dsq. Officially 4th place. Not bad for a bunch of riders focused on the feel good side of bicycle racing. Hats off to the Eastmans for never being caught and taking the victory. I hope I still have that kind of stamina in 15 more years. Well ridden!

The post ride bbq was a perfect end to the day. Hot dogs, salty chips, and beer. And of course, time to retell the stories with others and watch as the salt-crusted teams continued to trickle in.