Rage in the Sage

What I learned this weekend:

Sitting in a car for 6 hours then showing up 15 minutes before the start of a short track is a sure path toward suffering.

I'm starting to believe in Kelson's old-man power theory.

140mm of travel isn't terribly helpful if you have the fork running at 467 psi.

I need to do more push ups. And sit ups.

I'm faster than last year, or at least relatively faster. I didn't get lapped in the short track, and I was 3 minutes closer to the winner in the XC. 6th in ST, 4th in XC, 5th overall.

K2 likes beer bottles even more than K1 did.

The Ephrata mountain bike scene is a lot of fun. The Beezley Burn is one of the toughest and most enjoyable events I've ever done.

WaWWaW

(Or Wandering around Walla Walla and Waitsburg)

It's already been a week, but I suppose I should say something about the last race before I move on to the next race. Last week was the Tour of Walla Walla, which was my first real foray into the sharp end of racing with guys that are a lot stronger than me. For some reason, Walla Walla brings in all of the powerhouses from the PNW, including several teams from north of the border that are set on proving that Canucks are tougher than we are. I suppose they are.

The schedule included a 65-mile road race on Friday, a 9.3 mile TT and 50 minute crit (in the dark) on Saturday, and a 95-mile road race on Sunday. I'd had the a minor cold all week, so I went into the race just hoping not to get dropped in the first 5 miles on Friday. I hadn't felt so under-prepared for a race in a long time.

Friday afternoon was cool and windy, with the threat of rain. We were racing a lollipop course, with two hilly laps and then the finish back the stem of the lollipop. We didn't even make it 1/4 mile into the "neutral" 400-watt roll out before I heard the first crash behind me. After that it was an hour of mostly blurry pain, as I did every thing I could to stay near the front and not let gaps open in the wind. The most enjoyable stretch of road was a long, very gradual downwind climb that we rode up at just above 30mph. That hurt, but I managed to make it over the top with the group and my lunch still in my stomach. So the first lap went ok, and I was still hanging on.

The second lap wasn't so much fun. I was doing ok near the front when we hit the feed zone hill. Why everyone thinks you have to attach through the feed zone is beyond me, but next thing I know, most of the field is riding by me. I make it over the top about 30m off the back of the front group and manage to latch back on right as we turn left to climb the aforementioned gradual, down-wind, 30mph climb. I don't do very well on this climb. The lead group splits in two, and I drop off the back of the second group. I figure that's the race for me, but then 6 or 7 guys catch me who are motivated to catch back up. We manage a semi-reasonable double pace line, I only have the F-bomb thrown at me once (by a junior on Sir Lance's U23 team), and after 10 minutes of chasing, we catch on at the base of the next climb.

And I get dropped again. But someone likes me, and on the descent it starts raining very hard, and the pack slows down. I'm able to ride through the detritus falling off the back and make it back to the front of the group by the next climb. This climb is a bit easier and into the wind, and I don't have a problem staying with the group. So all we have left is 6 miles of downhill and flat until the finish.

At this point, despite having been dropped 3 times and having no legs, I somehow convince myself that if I'm in the front group, I might as well have a go at it. So I spend the next few miles squirming through gaps and finding wheels to pull me to the front. With about 1k to go, I almost get pushed off the road, but squeeze by on a spare inch of pavement, and find myself in about 10th wheel as the pace picks up for the sprint. I have nothing at all in the tank, so I pick a big guy and hope he'll pull me to the finish. I try to sprint, but have to sit down after about 10 seconds. Then I get mad at myself for being weak, and manage to stand up and finish the sprint. I even do a bike throw at the end just for the hell of it. I look up and start counting and only get to 8. I'm not sure I counted right, but by the time I try to count again, the field has caught us and there are people everywhere. I make the mistake of telling my teammate that I got 8th, and then spend the rest of the day stressing that I actually got 10th or 15th or something and will look stupid for saying 8th.

Turns out I got 7th, out of 119 starters, with some of the very strongest guys in our part of the world in the race.

So if you're wondering why I spent all of that time talking about the first day of a 4-stage race, that's why. The TT was mediocre, the crit scary and dark (with my only goal being to finish in the group and in one piece), and I was the last guy dropped from the lead group on the final climb of the final stage. Other than surviving to a 29th place on the GC, there's not much more to talk about. But I'm happy with the 7th.

Can you see that? -- the partially blind Barking Spider Bash

Every race scene has its own personality. Saturday was our first trip to the greater-Boise scene at the Barking Spider Bash, held at an OHV park somewhere south of Canyon County sprawlness. The motorheads and complete lack of any vegetation taller than 2 feet were a bit different than recent experience; the posturing on the start line was about the same. I guess that's not entirely true. This year with the new race categories, there was a new flavor to the posturing. The guy next to me spent the 10 minutes or so that we were lined up prior to the start talking loudly about how he didn't want to spend $150 on a license, which I guess was his explanation for why he wasn't lining up with the 7 or so "pro" riders like he really should have been, of course, were this all based on talent and not how much you are willing to spend on your license. Nice $5k bike by the way. And where did you spend the rest of the race?

In any event, my "wow, these guys look fast" paranoia was turned up to 11 (you'd think that would dissipate with time and several hundred races), and I am impressed by the nearly 40 guys lined up in the Expert field. Luckily, I had run into fellow GT DC rider Ivan Anderholm before the start, so I at least feel like there is one friendly face in the field. After a completely unnecessary 50m neutral start (to make it around an apparently dangerous first corner), we are off. The first 1/2 mile or so roll into a stiff wind, so I sit in near the front until we turn away from the wind. At that point, I can't ignore my Wisco training and fear of getting blocked up at the turn into the first tight area, so I move to the front and hit it (not knowing anything about the course, of course). I hear a rider behind me, so I figure I'm pulling the field. But it is a cross wind and I have the proper side of the trail, so I don't stress too much.

Then we turn right, I look back, and two of us already have about 100m on the field. It's hard to say this after only 4 minutes of a 2 hour race, but that was the race.

Ok, that's a lie. We ride away from the rest of the boys (at least a little bit), cross the road, and then begin the fairly long climb up to the top of the course. I'm feeling ok, he's sucking wheel, and I'm successfully ignoring the impulse to see what our gap is. But then we hit the top, turn back around into the wind to begin the decent and my left contact comes out of my eye.

This wasn't a great course to roll one eyed. I try for a while, but finally tell the guy to pass me and get a rollin'. I stop to grab the contact off my sunglasses and try to put it back in my eye, but after a couple of failed attempts, the wind blows it away. By this time, I've obviously lost the leader and the guy in third has caught me, but I figure there's nothing else to do but ride.

And that's pretty much it. I drop the guy in third and spend the next 25 miles dangling about 45 seconds off the leader. I close a bit on the climbs, and then he opens it back up on the decent. We had already caught 4 of the 7 pros half way through the first lap, so there wasn't anything else to chase, and I ride home solo and happy not to have addressed the sand in a more personal way.



Of course, after finishing the race, I go back to the car and spend the next 20 minutes trying to coax a 3 year old into letting me remove a bunch of stickers from his palm. He was proud of me though.

First in age, 2nd overall Expert, 5th overall (about 2 min. 14 seconds off the pro winner). Not a bad day for my first day on a mountain bike this year.

And we got to spend Sunday at the zoo. The monkey liked the tigers and the gibbons the best. I agree about the gibbons.

I lost my first mountain bike race this year

Another day older...

We lost the omnium by a couple of points, but at least suffered like idiots while we did it. I managed to make it into two "perfect" moves that would have soaked up all the points and kept us in the lead, but there's always someone who can't handle missing the move. I almost got towed to a win in the last lap, but that would have been too easy.

Here's the "pave" section; that's me in the back.

Roadie (lack of) skills

I finally got out to turn the pedals in anger a bit. 30 minute TT and then a 70 mile road race. Given that I haven't been above 350 watts for more than 2.3 seconds this year, it was a bit of a sufferfest. I had no expectations for the TT, and it showed. Not last, but not not last either.

The road race was a bit more fun. I helped spring a guy into the first break, and then patrolled the front until they came back when we got another guy into the second break. Then I patrolled the front again until blowing up spectacularly about 6 miles from the finish. Spending 2.5 hours marking everyone who twitched was a difficult baptism into the Pro/1/2 community. I found myself wishing repeatedly that I hadn't upgraded this year.

We have a 70-minute circuit race this afternoon. I'm not sure how that'll go.

I still hate winter

It's been snowing all week. Last night the weather was nice for about 17 minutes, so I ran out for a quick ride. Finished up in some driving sleet and rain, and a sudden darkness that apparently made me invisible to cars traveling the other direction. Why can't we DQ cars that don't follow the center-line rule?