It's been a while since I wandered around here. Turns out I came home from Breck, got sick, had to travel, stayed sick, and spend 3 weeks off the bike. That zapped some enthusiasm.
Feeling better now.
But then I see stuff like this:
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Breck Day 5 -- Wheeler Trail
Today wasn't our day. I also learned that the race organizer is a sadist. I generally don't mind hike-a-bike sections, but after 45 minutes of walking, I'd had enough. At one point, I looked at my computer, which reads to the tenth of an MPH, and it was showing 0.0. I swear I was moving, but maybe not.
And then after finishing the final hike-a-bike, and having the 50mph wind almost blow me back down the mountain, I managed to ride for about 10 seconds before going over the bars and smashing the hell out of my head and lower legs. My right shin now looks like it has a golf ball stuck between the skin and bone. That didn't really set me up well for the next 2,500 feet of descending. There was a silver lining: the guy with the helmet cam was behind me and thinks he got my crash.
But the day wasn't all bad. I think I managed to have fun a few times. I rode with Allison Dunlap for a while and asked her what it was like to stay with the Reddingtons. She was too nice to be honest I think. And my legs felt surprisingly good at the end of the race on the final singletrack, which was pretty fun. And most importantly, I got yelled at by a lady on the bike path for not calling out "on your left." I wanted to stop and tell her that at more than double her speed into a headwind, she wouldn't have heard me anyway, and besides, I was 8 feet away from her. But I didn't.
Our start and finish photos. You might notice we look a bit happier at the start. You can also see some of the blood on my leg from my short flight.
And then after finishing the final hike-a-bike, and having the 50mph wind almost blow me back down the mountain, I managed to ride for about 10 seconds before going over the bars and smashing the hell out of my head and lower legs. My right shin now looks like it has a golf ball stuck between the skin and bone. That didn't really set me up well for the next 2,500 feet of descending. There was a silver lining: the guy with the helmet cam was behind me and thinks he got my crash.
But the day wasn't all bad. I think I managed to have fun a few times. I rode with Allison Dunlap for a while and asked her what it was like to stay with the Reddingtons. She was too nice to be honest I think. And my legs felt surprisingly good at the end of the race on the final singletrack, which was pretty fun. And most importantly, I got yelled at by a lady on the bike path for not calling out "on your left." I wanted to stop and tell her that at more than double her speed into a headwind, she wouldn't have heard me anyway, and besides, I was 8 feet away from her. But I didn't.
Our start and finish photos. You might notice we look a bit happier at the start. You can also see some of the blood on my leg from my short flight.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Breck Day 4 -- Around Mt. Guyot
It's a bit hard to describe today's stage. First things first though, I suppose: we won! We finally broke the 2nd place trend, and in the correct direction. We gained almost 7 minutes and now sit 2:19 back in the overall.
The stage started by climbing some of yesterday's final descent. It wasn't consistent climbing, but it still hurt. Lots of short, steep, rocky climbs until we finally hit the top of the first obstacle. But that was nothing compared to what was waiting for us. After some fast contouring on very narrow single track, we hit an extremely fast, extremely rocky descent. At the bottom we saw the race leaders at the side fixing another flat. A quick stop in the aid station, and we started up.
I don't know why, but I absolutely loved this climb. It started out gradually, but then got increasingly steeper as we passed through the forest and broke out above tree line. As we looked up, we could see a steep pitch with about 10 guys walking. We walked for about 5 minutes before we saw the real top of the climb. I was able to ride for a bit, but then it was off and walking again. I don't know how long we walked, maybe 15 or 20 minutes, but it was actually enjoyable, at least relatively so. It was just so crazy beautiful up there. I got to the top a bit before Ryan and was able to look around a bit. The view from 12,000 feet is impressive. I couldn't see our race leaders down the mountain, so I figured we had at least 5 minutes on them.
Ryan got to the top and we headed down. Well, we did eventually. First we had to cross a snow field. The guy in front of me tried to ride it, and ended up sliding on his stomach for about 50 meters before stopping just before the bottom. I ran down it before sliding the last 20 meters on both feet realizing that I either had to pull off my best 'cross remount ever, or I'd be bouncing around the rocks for a while. I don't remember what I did, but I rolled out of it.
Then we had 20 minutes of the some of the best riding I've ever done. Save for one moment when I was way over the back of my seat staring at a 3 foot drop with nothing to do (but roll it and pray), it was super fast, ripping single track. And then we climbed a bit and guess what? 30 minutes of more absolutely incredible single track. It went from blazingly fast to crazy rocky, but was an absolute blast.
I love this race!
And then we hit the final climb and I absolutely hate this race. We survived, barely, and were faced with 8 more miles of rolling and rocky forest road and some single track.
That's when Ryan said he heard a leak in his front tire. With a few miles of crazy fast rocky descending, a low front tire wasn't really going to help us much. We tried my CO2, but it wasn't working. We tried Ryan's, and it worked, but the tire didn't seal. We rode it for a while, stopped to fill it again, then kept going. We could hear the finish, but didn't know how long we had. Finally we crossed a road and the marshals said we had 2 minutes left. Ryan cruised it on 10psi and we finally crossed the finish in 4 hours, 14 minutes and 33 seconds.
Then we just had to wait. We needed 9 minutes, 2 seconds to take over the lead. We didn't get there, but it was still a blast.
Tomorrow takes us up to 12,400, so it'll be another sufferfest.
The stage started by climbing some of yesterday's final descent. It wasn't consistent climbing, but it still hurt. Lots of short, steep, rocky climbs until we finally hit the top of the first obstacle. But that was nothing compared to what was waiting for us. After some fast contouring on very narrow single track, we hit an extremely fast, extremely rocky descent. At the bottom we saw the race leaders at the side fixing another flat. A quick stop in the aid station, and we started up.
I don't know why, but I absolutely loved this climb. It started out gradually, but then got increasingly steeper as we passed through the forest and broke out above tree line. As we looked up, we could see a steep pitch with about 10 guys walking. We walked for about 5 minutes before we saw the real top of the climb. I was able to ride for a bit, but then it was off and walking again. I don't know how long we walked, maybe 15 or 20 minutes, but it was actually enjoyable, at least relatively so. It was just so crazy beautiful up there. I got to the top a bit before Ryan and was able to look around a bit. The view from 12,000 feet is impressive. I couldn't see our race leaders down the mountain, so I figured we had at least 5 minutes on them.
Ryan got to the top and we headed down. Well, we did eventually. First we had to cross a snow field. The guy in front of me tried to ride it, and ended up sliding on his stomach for about 50 meters before stopping just before the bottom. I ran down it before sliding the last 20 meters on both feet realizing that I either had to pull off my best 'cross remount ever, or I'd be bouncing around the rocks for a while. I don't remember what I did, but I rolled out of it.
Then we had 20 minutes of the some of the best riding I've ever done. Save for one moment when I was way over the back of my seat staring at a 3 foot drop with nothing to do (but roll it and pray), it was super fast, ripping single track. And then we climbed a bit and guess what? 30 minutes of more absolutely incredible single track. It went from blazingly fast to crazy rocky, but was an absolute blast.
I love this race!
And then we hit the final climb and I absolutely hate this race. We survived, barely, and were faced with 8 more miles of rolling and rocky forest road and some single track.
That's when Ryan said he heard a leak in his front tire. With a few miles of crazy fast rocky descending, a low front tire wasn't really going to help us much. We tried my CO2, but it wasn't working. We tried Ryan's, and it worked, but the tire didn't seal. We rode it for a while, stopped to fill it again, then kept going. We could hear the finish, but didn't know how long we had. Finally we crossed a road and the marshals said we had 2 minutes left. Ryan cruised it on 10psi and we finally crossed the finish in 4 hours, 14 minutes and 33 seconds.
Then we just had to wait. We needed 9 minutes, 2 seconds to take over the lead. We didn't get there, but it was still a blast.
Tomorrow takes us up to 12,400, so it'll be another sufferfest.
Breck Day 3 -- Pennsylvania Gulch
Today went both better and worse. After a "neutral" roll out up a steep road climb that shattered the field, we dropped down some single track for about 10 minutes before beginning the day's biggest climb. Just a minute or so into the single track we passed the Kappius boys at the side of the trail fixing a flat, so we were finally leading the race. We were both feeling pretty good, and managed to pick up quite a few spots up both of the first two climbs. We looked back in an open field at the bottom of the second climb and could see them about 30 seconds back, but we held that gap over the top. We had an unfortunately slow stop at the aid station, but were still doing ok.
But with about 8 miles to go, I lost a contact in my right eye. This is getting to be really annoying. We stopped for a moment to see if we could find it but had no luck. By the time we got rolling again and into the single track, they were 10 seconds behind us. I was riding well, but at the bottom of the single track were we hit a road section, there was a fence across the trail that hadn't been there when we road up this section of trail during the prologue. My depth perception was a bit messed up, and I slid into it pretty hard with my right side. I didn't think much of it at the time, and we took off down the road toward the final climb.
The Kappius boys caught us on the road and we sucked wheel until the aid station, they stopped, but we kept going and got a gap as we started the climb. That's when I found out that I had smashed my derailleur and could only use the bottom 4 or 5 cogs. On the steeper sections of the climb, I was pushing about 20 rpm and my legs finally blew up. They came by and Ryan rode the climb with them, but I had to walk. They ended up finishing 1:09 ahead of us.
I'm afraid this was our best shot at a win, and it's pretty annoying to blow it like that.
Today (Wednesday) is the 'queen' stage. 43 miles with 4 big climbs. French pass is over 12,000 feet, and Georgia pass is just shy of 12. Depending on how everyone feels, that 1:09 might not be a big deal.
(Rolling into the final aid station with Russ and Brady)
But with about 8 miles to go, I lost a contact in my right eye. This is getting to be really annoying. We stopped for a moment to see if we could find it but had no luck. By the time we got rolling again and into the single track, they were 10 seconds behind us. I was riding well, but at the bottom of the single track were we hit a road section, there was a fence across the trail that hadn't been there when we road up this section of trail during the prologue. My depth perception was a bit messed up, and I slid into it pretty hard with my right side. I didn't think much of it at the time, and we took off down the road toward the final climb.
The Kappius boys caught us on the road and we sucked wheel until the aid station, they stopped, but we kept going and got a gap as we started the climb. That's when I found out that I had smashed my derailleur and could only use the bottom 4 or 5 cogs. On the steeper sections of the climb, I was pushing about 20 rpm and my legs finally blew up. They came by and Ryan rode the climb with them, but I had to walk. They ended up finishing 1:09 ahead of us.
I'm afraid this was our best shot at a win, and it's pretty annoying to blow it like that.
Today (Wednesday) is the 'queen' stage. 43 miles with 4 big climbs. French pass is over 12,000 feet, and Georgia pass is just shy of 12. Depending on how everyone feels, that 1:09 might not be a big deal.
(Rolling into the final aid station with Russ and Brady)
Monday, July 6, 2009
Breck Day 2 -- Colorado Trail
I sucked today. Couldn't breathe and couldn't climb. I think I had to tell Ryan to slow down about 50 times. Luckily I can still descend and managed to make up for some of my suckiness.
I think we finished second in our group, not sure how far back. I hope it was just a bad day.
Oh yeah, Ryan almost died today. It was crazy. We were stuck behind some guys on a rocky mining road descent. I yelled at him that we needed to go faster, and he took off like a freaking rocket. It was insane. We must have been doing 40mph down this steep rocky road. I have no idea what the guys thought when we blew by them.
But there was a hard right turn at the bottom, with nothing but air below. Ryan blew the turn a bit and was out in the bushes, just a few feet from the drop. I thought he was going for a little flight, but he pulled it back together.
I think we finished second in our group, not sure how far back. I hope it was just a bad day.
Oh yeah, Ryan almost died today. It was crazy. We were stuck behind some guys on a rocky mining road descent. I yelled at him that we needed to go faster, and he took off like a freaking rocket. It was insane. We must have been doing 40mph down this steep rocky road. I have no idea what the guys thought when we blew by them.
But there was a hard right turn at the bottom, with nothing but air below. Ryan blew the turn a bit and was out in the bushes, just a few feet from the drop. I thought he was going for a little flight, but he pulled it back together.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
I forgot...
A huge thanks to a bunch of people:
Mark Meier, the Godfather of the Baraboo Sharks, who rolled up with the family from Wisco to help us out (and thanks to Kristy, Erik and Tori who tagged along for the ride);
My brother Paul, who came up today from Golden, and with Mark drove to the top of the hill climb to make sure we had warm clothes and food (which were absolutely necessary since it started raining as we finished);
and most of all,
To Jess, Kieran and Kelton, who keep me rolling, happy, and are always there to help out. It was awesome to see them as we rolled out and then waiting for us when we got back to the bottom.
Mark Meier, the Godfather of the Baraboo Sharks, who rolled up with the family from Wisco to help us out (and thanks to Kristy, Erik and Tori who tagged along for the ride);
My brother Paul, who came up today from Golden, and with Mark drove to the top of the hill climb to make sure we had warm clothes and food (which were absolutely necessary since it started raining as we finished);
and most of all,
To Jess, Kieran and Kelton, who keep me rolling, happy, and are always there to help out. It was awesome to see them as we rolled out and then waiting for us when we got back to the bottom.
Breck Day 1 -- Mt Baldy TT
The Breck Epic started somewhat ominously. A couple hours before our 3:52pm start time, it turned very black and started pouring. I kept checking the radar and hoping that it would pass over in time, and luckily it did, leaving sunny skies but a fairly wet and muddy course.
For some reason, about 90 minutes before our start, I got crazy nervous. I don't know why, after all, according to one of our neighbors in our condo, "it's just a hill climb." Ryan wasn't too happy about my nerves, as I started way too fast. But then we got into a rhythm and rolled pretty well. We had four teams in front of us, and we passed three of them fairly quickly. We could see the guys who started 30 seconds in front of us just up the road. Every time I checked we were about 20 seconds back, and it looked like we'd catch them. Unfortunately, the lightning and rain forced them to shorten the stage a bit, so it ended right at the top of an ugly hike-a-bike. They hit it really hard and put 25 seconds into us in the last few minutes of the climb.
So that's how it ended. We finished in 2nd place, 25 seconds of first place, and 7 minutes or so ahead of third. Quote of the day? After we hit the top, we didn't get a "nice race" or "good job" from the guys ahead of us. No, we got a "you guys kept us honest," like they were just cruising and only worked hard enough to beat us. A bit of motivation for the rest of the week.
Tomorrow is the Colorado Trail, 47 miles and 5k feet of climbing.
Oh yeah, one final point. I put the cycling cap on when I thought it would rain, but quickly realized it wasn't a great idea for a technical, singletrack hill climb. I couldn't see far enough up the hill to take good lines and had to flip it up to see. It wasn't a big deal, but annoying. And it looks kind of funny.
For some reason, about 90 minutes before our start, I got crazy nervous. I don't know why, after all, according to one of our neighbors in our condo, "it's just a hill climb." Ryan wasn't too happy about my nerves, as I started way too fast. But then we got into a rhythm and rolled pretty well. We had four teams in front of us, and we passed three of them fairly quickly. We could see the guys who started 30 seconds in front of us just up the road. Every time I checked we were about 20 seconds back, and it looked like we'd catch them. Unfortunately, the lightning and rain forced them to shorten the stage a bit, so it ended right at the top of an ugly hike-a-bike. They hit it really hard and put 25 seconds into us in the last few minutes of the climb.
So that's how it ended. We finished in 2nd place, 25 seconds of first place, and 7 minutes or so ahead of third. Quote of the day? After we hit the top, we didn't get a "nice race" or "good job" from the guys ahead of us. No, we got a "you guys kept us honest," like they were just cruising and only worked hard enough to beat us. A bit of motivation for the rest of the week.
Tomorrow is the Colorado Trail, 47 miles and 5k feet of climbing.
Oh yeah, one final point. I put the cycling cap on when I thought it would rain, but quickly realized it wasn't a great idea for a technical, singletrack hill climb. I couldn't see far enough up the hill to take good lines and had to flip it up to see. It wasn't a big deal, but annoying. And it looks kind of funny.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Where'd the air go?
We got to Breck last night and Ryan drug me out for a ride on the Prologue. My goal has changed to merely surviving this thing (and having fun). The first day will hurt. We aren't sure where the finish is, but when we got to 12,000 feet and Ryan said, "I think we have to go up there," I said not today. I'd had enough by that point. When race time comes I'll be ok, but at that point I wanted nothing to do with 500 feet more climbing up 20% loose rock.
Luckily I still know how to go downhill.
(edited for Mr. Krayer's benefit)
Luckily I still know how to go downhill.
(edited for Mr. Krayer's benefit)
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Best ride of the year
Got out again with my favorite riding partner. After a little hike with the monkeys, we busted out a 1,000 foot climb then rolled the 3,000 feet down to the house (ok, I admit, a short shuttle was involved, but the monkeys weren't interested in riding up the hill).
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Not quite high enough
This is my high point for my (low) altitude camp. About 9k before I ran out of rideable road.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Ok, I lied...
...I can post video.
My cleat was seriously loose; like almost ready to fall off loose. Seriously.
My cleat was seriously loose; like almost ready to fall off loose. Seriously.
(Low) altitude camp
We've been at "altitude" for a week now in preparation for the Breck Epic. I'm not sure it's going to be enough. On Saturday, I climbed for almost 3,000 feet until I hit too much snow to proceed, and I was still 600 feet below where I'll be sleeping in Breck. I dropped back down and rode up the ski hill road to meet the boys and Jess for a hike. About 4k in climbing, with big chunks of it over 15%, but I get the feeling there's much worse to come.
I have some helmet cam footage, but since my Mac is at home and I'm too stupid to figure out how to edit video on my work computer, I'll just have to share some random photos of the monkeys...
I have some helmet cam footage, but since my Mac is at home and I'm too stupid to figure out how to edit video on my work computer, I'll just have to share some random photos of the monkeys...
Thursday, June 25, 2009
20th Annual Idaho City Excellent Adventure
Last Saturday we started our summer road trip with the drive south to Boise before Sunday's mountain bike race up in Idaho City. I haven't raced the mountain bike since April, which might have contributed to an above average case of nerves and "that guy looks fast"-ness. The race begins with a mass start Le Mans, and then rolls for about 1.5 miles before funneling into a steep, rutted moto trail at the bottom of a ~4-mile climb. I figured the entrance to the moto trail could matter a bit, so I hoped to hit it near the front and then climb as best I could. Including the road at the bottom, the climb covered ~1200 feet in 6 miles. It was mostly gradual, but had some steep sections.
I set the bike up well for the Le Mans and got myself in the front row. I got on the bike pretty easily in 2nd. The road section was somewhat chaotic, but I stayed in decent position and hit the moto trail in 5th. I immediately passed the guy in front of me, then the next guy got stuck in a rut and went down. I got around him ok, but the two leaders had a 20m gap by that point that I couldn't close down. I chased as best I could for a few miles, but the gap stayed about the same. Then my brain played a trick on me and convinced me that I had gone off course. I got confused and slowed down for a minute and the guy behind me caught up and went by.
As it turns out, this was a good thing. He was much better at the steady climbs than I am, and I had to completely bury myself to hold his wheel. I doubt I would have climbed that well on my own. After 15 minutes, we caught the guy in 2nd (who had lost the leader) and the three of us road together for a while. I yoyo-ed a bit, and almost lost them when I nearly crashed while trying to take a drink. But I noticed that I was doing better on the steep climbs than they were, so at the next steep singletrack section, I went by both of them and got a bit of a gap. I had 5 miles to go at that point, and managed to keep it together to finished 2nd overall, about 5-10 seconds up on 3rd, who had ridden just behind me the final 5 miles of the race. The winner finished 60 seconds ahead of me. It turned out it was Zach Vestal, who was Trek/VW team manager and is now tech editor at Velonews.
But since I was "just" an Expert, I got no love for finishing 2nd overall. I hate to criticize race promoters, and I do this knowing that I sound like an ungrateful and whiny prima donna, but why does the fact that some guy pays $150 for a license make a difference in how you treat them? The "pro" podium got cash; I got a water bottle and pair of size small gloves. And he didn't mention that I was 2nd overall. Well, he did eventually after I corrected him for saying I was 4th overall. I don't need the money or even a nice prize, but a bit of respect wouldn't hurt.
Case in point: they issued a little press release after the race which you can find at this link -- Idaho City Results
The section that discusses the winner says: "Although a solid pack chased him the entire race, Vestal broke away early and decisively and cruised in over one minute ahead of Josh Oppenheimer." That's true, he was over one minute ahead of Josh Oppenheimer. But Josh was 5 seconds behind me. It's not enough to be fast I guess.
Ok, whining mode off. It was a great race, and I had a blast.
I set the bike up well for the Le Mans and got myself in the front row. I got on the bike pretty easily in 2nd. The road section was somewhat chaotic, but I stayed in decent position and hit the moto trail in 5th. I immediately passed the guy in front of me, then the next guy got stuck in a rut and went down. I got around him ok, but the two leaders had a 20m gap by that point that I couldn't close down. I chased as best I could for a few miles, but the gap stayed about the same. Then my brain played a trick on me and convinced me that I had gone off course. I got confused and slowed down for a minute and the guy behind me caught up and went by.
As it turns out, this was a good thing. He was much better at the steady climbs than I am, and I had to completely bury myself to hold his wheel. I doubt I would have climbed that well on my own. After 15 minutes, we caught the guy in 2nd (who had lost the leader) and the three of us road together for a while. I yoyo-ed a bit, and almost lost them when I nearly crashed while trying to take a drink. But I noticed that I was doing better on the steep climbs than they were, so at the next steep singletrack section, I went by both of them and got a bit of a gap. I had 5 miles to go at that point, and managed to keep it together to finished 2nd overall, about 5-10 seconds up on 3rd, who had ridden just behind me the final 5 miles of the race. The winner finished 60 seconds ahead of me. It turned out it was Zach Vestal, who was Trek/VW team manager and is now tech editor at Velonews.
But since I was "just" an Expert, I got no love for finishing 2nd overall. I hate to criticize race promoters, and I do this knowing that I sound like an ungrateful and whiny prima donna, but why does the fact that some guy pays $150 for a license make a difference in how you treat them? The "pro" podium got cash; I got a water bottle and pair of size small gloves. And he didn't mention that I was 2nd overall. Well, he did eventually after I corrected him for saying I was 4th overall. I don't need the money or even a nice prize, but a bit of respect wouldn't hurt.
Case in point: they issued a little press release after the race which you can find at this link -- Idaho City Results
The section that discusses the winner says: "Although a solid pack chased him the entire race, Vestal broke away early and decisively and cruised in over one minute ahead of Josh Oppenheimer." That's true, he was over one minute ahead of Josh Oppenheimer. But Josh was 5 seconds behind me. It's not enough to be fast I guess.
Ok, whining mode off. It was a great race, and I had a blast.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
North Contour
This is an old skid road that has been sitting unused for several decades. It's really fast, and has a few surprising turns that always catch me off guard. And there's one little rock drop that I always mess up; I usually roll out of it with my rear wheel somewhere up near my right ear.
I definitely need to find someone to ride in front of my for these videos, as you can't really tell what the terrain does with no one there.
And I do know that I'm a dork.
I definitely need to find someone to ride in front of my for these videos, as you can't really tell what the terrain does with no one there.
And I do know that I'm a dork.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Thursday, June 11, 2009
I got a new toy
I've been debating getting this toy for a long time, but the reasons not to always outweighed the reasons to. But the longer you ride, and the longer you live, the more you want to share your rides. So that's what I hope to be doing. You won't see anything very impressive. I'll mostly ride around the jumps and fall off the log rides. And I'm not much for music, so until I figure out a better mic system, it'll be a lot of wind noise and a few grunts.
I haven't figured out the best way to share them yet, and I'll work on the wind noise.
But these are my rides.
Deep V to Switchblade
Bottom of Headwaters
I haven't figured out the best way to share them yet, and I'll work on the wind noise.
But these are my rides.
Deep V to Switchblade
Bottom of Headwaters
Monday, June 8, 2009
Crit photos
Jess got some pretty good photos of the crit. Unfortunately, the one I most want to show turned out blurry as it was somewhat hurried (but I'll probably post it anyway).
The first photo is actually the finish of the first stage. You can just barely see my right shoe and shoulder behind the guy that's in second. I started too far back to do much more than this, but I was happy with how it went. I passed 5 or 6 people in the sprint, and just managed to get the guy on the far right at the end.
This is the infamous corner on the crit course. This actually isn't a great line, but it was hard to roll it cleanly if I didn't have a clean road.
Entering the corner. I probably wasted too much energy doing this, but I tried to hit it first whenever I was near the front. Unfortunately that meant some work into the wind at the top of the front stretch, but I had last year's crash etched sufficiently into my brain that I preferred that to trusting someone else's line. The only crash of the day happened behind me with 3 laps to go.
This is the top of the front stretch with one to go. I had about 30 meters at this point and took it as hard as I could. The position of my chain on rear cogs is an indication of how hard the wind was blowing, because it really isn't that steep of a climb.
Just after the finish. Cooked, but happy.
And finally, even though this is really blurry, I can't brag about my cornering skills without some proof. I'm still a cocky SoB, but every once in a while (ok, every once in a long while), there's a reason. Any time I hit the corner first, I could open up gaps like this without really pushing it too hard. Sometimes I'd give it down the back stretch, other times I'd sit up and wait, but mostly I was just having fun. You can't quite tell, but if you finished the turn too wide, it got really off camber and pinched right as you exited the turn. I was able to avoid that on every lap. Everyone behind me in this photo is exiting too wide and is going to have to brake before then can start accelerating again.
The first photo is actually the finish of the first stage. You can just barely see my right shoe and shoulder behind the guy that's in second. I started too far back to do much more than this, but I was happy with how it went. I passed 5 or 6 people in the sprint, and just managed to get the guy on the far right at the end.
This is the infamous corner on the crit course. This actually isn't a great line, but it was hard to roll it cleanly if I didn't have a clean road.
Entering the corner. I probably wasted too much energy doing this, but I tried to hit it first whenever I was near the front. Unfortunately that meant some work into the wind at the top of the front stretch, but I had last year's crash etched sufficiently into my brain that I preferred that to trusting someone else's line. The only crash of the day happened behind me with 3 laps to go.
This is the top of the front stretch with one to go. I had about 30 meters at this point and took it as hard as I could. The position of my chain on rear cogs is an indication of how hard the wind was blowing, because it really isn't that steep of a climb.
Just after the finish. Cooked, but happy.
And finally, even though this is really blurry, I can't brag about my cornering skills without some proof. I'm still a cocky SoB, but every once in a while (ok, every once in a long while), there's a reason. Any time I hit the corner first, I could open up gaps like this without really pushing it too hard. Sometimes I'd give it down the back stretch, other times I'd sit up and wait, but mostly I was just having fun. You can't quite tell, but if you finished the turn too wide, it got really off camber and pinched right as you exited the turn. I was able to avoid that on every lap. Everyone behind me in this photo is exiting too wide and is going to have to brake before then can start accelerating again.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
I feel better now
Last night I woke up at 12:30 or so and couldn't get back to sleep for another hour. By the time I got back to sleep, I had decided I was never going to race bikes again.
But I changed my mind today.
Last year at this crit, I got taken out with a few laps to go and busted up both bike and body. My goals for today were to have fun and stay in one piece. I did both. Before the race we had about 30 minutes with the course open. I felt after Thursday's race that I could corner better than anyone else in the field, so I used the 30 minutes to get the nasty corner wired, hoping I might find it useful. There was a storm drain very deep in the corner on the outside that marked what I figured was the best spot to initiate the turn. It was really deep, and somewhat uncomfortable, but the rest of the field generally apexed too early and had to brake late in the turn. If I hit the first part of the turn hard and made it all the way to the curb, I was able to exit with a lot of speed right as most everyone else was slowing down to avoid the hay bales. Any time I had a open line through the turn, I was able to make up time or open up gaps on the people behind me. I used it to initiate a couple of moves, and join a few others, but nothing stuck.
With 2 laps to go, I found myself near the front as we rode through the start/finish. I decided to roll to the front and see how it worked out. I got through the sketchy turn with about 5 meters and put my head down and went with it. No one chased, so I heard the bell with about a 30 meter gap. I survived the backstretch, but the field finally caught me just as I finished the last turn and started up the finish stretch. I rolled through with the group in 17th.
Jess took a photo of me yesterday at the end of my race and another one today. I'll post them up when we get home, but today's photo was a lot happier. I had a blast in the crit, rode my legs off, kept it upright, and proved to myself that I can enjoy riding my bike. And I clipped a pedal in a turn and rolled out of it clean with no worries, so that's always nice too.
But I changed my mind today.
Last year at this crit, I got taken out with a few laps to go and busted up both bike and body. My goals for today were to have fun and stay in one piece. I did both. Before the race we had about 30 minutes with the course open. I felt after Thursday's race that I could corner better than anyone else in the field, so I used the 30 minutes to get the nasty corner wired, hoping I might find it useful. There was a storm drain very deep in the corner on the outside that marked what I figured was the best spot to initiate the turn. It was really deep, and somewhat uncomfortable, but the rest of the field generally apexed too early and had to brake late in the turn. If I hit the first part of the turn hard and made it all the way to the curb, I was able to exit with a lot of speed right as most everyone else was slowing down to avoid the hay bales. Any time I had a open line through the turn, I was able to make up time or open up gaps on the people behind me. I used it to initiate a couple of moves, and join a few others, but nothing stuck.
With 2 laps to go, I found myself near the front as we rode through the start/finish. I decided to roll to the front and see how it worked out. I got through the sketchy turn with about 5 meters and put my head down and went with it. No one chased, so I heard the bell with about a 30 meter gap. I survived the backstretch, but the field finally caught me just as I finished the last turn and started up the finish stretch. I rolled through with the group in 17th.
Jess took a photo of me yesterday at the end of my race and another one today. I'll post them up when we get home, but today's photo was a lot happier. I had a blast in the crit, rode my legs off, kept it upright, and proved to myself that I can enjoy riding my bike. And I clipped a pedal in a turn and rolled out of it clean with no worries, so that's always nice too.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Like an egg
I used to think I was a relatively smart racer. And that I was something of a climber. Wrong on both. I felt great at the start of the race, but I wasted a ton of energy for no reason, and by mile 70 I realized I was done. Got popped with 6 miles to go, chased back on then got popped again. At least I dropped the three guys that wouldn't pull through for the 3 miles before the steep part of the climb. Came in somewhere between 15 and 20, and probably lost a top 10.
In my defense, most of my wasted energy was marking the guy that eventually got away and won. Were it not for the 20mph headwind, it might not have hurt so much.
My pre-race analysis was that my best chance to do well was the first stage. Turns out I was right.
In my defense, most of my wasted energy was marking the guy that eventually got away and won. Were it not for the 20mph headwind, it might not have hurt so much.
My pre-race analysis was that my best chance to do well was the first stage. Turns out I was right.
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