The rain wasn't a problem

Bombing rain on the ride in this morning. I was dressed for it and I was fine. The evening commute was dry but windy. Really windy. Like I was riding uphill with brake drag and low pressure windy. I was slow. Uphill into a headwind is a double whammy, but downhill with a headwind is like a broken promise.

Cross Camp 2011

Our bikes were flying. We had trouble keeping them on the ground.



Someone asked me how training camp was and I told them it was, “fast, fun, intense, relaxing and scary.”

We had the van loaded up and FUEL coffee in our cups and we were well on our way before eight Friday morning. We lamented that we were making the journey without one of our stalwarts, who had to stay to monitor a patient following surgery. If all went well, he would be joining the reinforcements coming over Saturday. We discussed the recent Tour de France in detail and speculated on all manner of cycling minutia. There was a light but persistent mist that didn’t let up until we were high in the Cascades. We expected, or rather hoped, it would be dry and sunny on the east side of the pass. We were right/lucky and it was nice.

On route to camp

One of our team members has a vacation home on the sunny side of the Cascades and when we rolled up, he stepped out to greet us. We unloaded the bikes and dropped our bags inside. We changed shoes and rode to the local general store and bought cold sandwiches, chips and drinks. After eating we returned and dressed for an afternoon ride.

With our cross bikes between our legs we hit the trail, and the sun felt wonderful on our arms. We had not yet seen summer in Seattle, so we soaked in the sunshine with the enthusiasm of a thirsty man drinking water. We started slowly and less than five minutes from the house, Matthew had our first flat. Changing out the tube like the seasoned veteran he is, we were soon on our way loving the single track trail. There were some small rollers that were fun to power up and then carry your speed over the top and down the far side. “Flat,” was yelled from behind. This time Sam was the victim. We all took the opportunity to add a few PSI to our tires. There would be two more flats on this Friday ride and we would refer to the ride distance as “a four flat ride.”

Sam led us in a rolling, rollicking rendition of "YMCA."

The trail had some rocks that necessitated backing off on the speed at times to avoid even more snakebites (pinch flats). When the trail was good we ramped up the speed and it was pure child-like fun. We were hot, but didn’t dare complain. We stopped by the house and grabbed thongs, suits and towels and pedaled up the road to a wide spot in the Methow River and jumped in.

Part of being President is having someone else carry your supplies

Nobody can style the team kit like the man we called "Flats."

Having the sun dry your skin in five minutes was a thrill we had forgotten in this summer-less summer.

We knew the stars were aligning when we enjoyed a tailwind all the way back. With man-like communication (almost none) we all pitched in and soon we had a salad, pizza and pasta salad for dinner. I brought some cookies Hottie had baked for us (is she cool or what?) and we savored some chocolate happiness after dinner.

Saturday brought the promise of a perfect day. Once again, with nary a word eggs and toast were cooking and soon we were seated outside eating and figuring out plans. We opted for a trail hike/run that took a lightly used foot trail that zigzagged straight up the south side of the valley. As we climbed the views just got better and better. A check of the watch told us we needed to turn around and after tightening my shoe laces we dropped back to the valley floor. As we turned toward the cabin we saw the Saturday reinforcements had arrived, and now we had ten middle aged bike riders.

We repeated the lunch at the general store and then we returned and dressed for the epic of the weekend.

Sometimes a "BEFORE" photo is a good reference point

This time we went down canyon and the single track trail swung back and forth and we challenged ourselves to go faster and faster. We were snaking back and forth upwards of twenty miles an hour. I found myself altering my position on the bike to increase my stability on the bike. My thoughts jumped back and forth between, “I can’t believe how fast we are taking these turns,” to “Wow, when I do THIS with my body weight, I feel almost…stable.” Brad had billed the weekend as “cross camp” and it was actually turning out that way.

Rolling on the road..

Instead of gravel made from rocks along this trail they have recycled glass that gets heated and turns into glass pellets. These beads are like rock gravel in every way including slowing you down like an anchor being dropped. If you get the light just right, they can look like a shooting star rooster tail, and it looks sooo awesome.

Preparing for track starts on the suspension bridge.

We crossed the road onto a jeep trail on the other side. We were riding on fire roads now and in addition to weaving back and forth, it climbed in chunks and we challenged ourselves to keep the pace high. Attack, turn, turn, attack, turn, turn power on; somehow we had a rhythm going and we were flying up these hills. It felt like we were on motorcycles. Our president misjudged a hill and went down hard; ending his day. That is all I’m going to say about that.

Our flow was interrupted as we collected a few more flats and then we stopped in town to buy some more tubes and Kevin needed more sealant for his tubeless tires as well. While we were stopped I downed two more bottles of nuun-enhanced water. The day was warm and we had lots of miles ahead of us.

Don't worry about how this looks. He's a doctor.

Just as we were ready to roll, Scott looked down to see that his rear tire had flatted just sitting there. It is difficult to maintain the façade of being serious cyclists when you have this comedy of errors that we called the flat parade. Marc was nursing a sore back and el Hefe was out of commission so they abandoned in town.

The remaining eight climbed out of town on paved road and in four miles we turned off a spur and the climbing got serious fast. We were exposed, and the sun cooked us and I gave thanks for full zippers. The grade would let up to four and five percent and then return to double digit steepness. The pavement ended and still we climbed. I watched my GARMIN. It had read 2,150 when we turned off the road. My cross bike has a single 42 tooth ring on the front and my legs were working hard just to keep moving.

We passed 3,000 feet. Then we began to string out and at 3,600’ we regrouped. I drank the last of my water. After a short stretch with a mild grade it was full on once again. Everyone was hurting as the grade would not let up and when you blinked, the loose stuff caused you to spin out. It required concentration and suffering. Finally we topped out at the cattle grate at 4,750 Banker Pass.

With the climbing behind us we headed down toward water, food and showers. We had 2,900’ to drop and about a dozen miles before we could call it a day. The road down followed a river and we were in shade on loose gravel with intermittent washboard that left our teeth rattling.

We made the most out of the chance to get more flats and our tally ticked up and up. We would finish the day with nine flats spread out over 50 miles and almost 4,000 of climbing.

Dave and his back up singers

I felt great and my theory about mixing Hammer products with different products with simple sugars proved correct. Just like in Ghostbusters, don’t cross the streams.

When we finally spilled out onto the valley floor we turned west and rode like the hungry fools we were. When we got to Brad’s place Sam and Marc had been shopping and were preparing dinner.

Before I washed off my "tan."

We showered and gorged ourselves on pasta with bacon and cheese, hot dogs, a green salad, and the last of Hottie’s cookies. We all drank like fish. I had no less than six bottles of water after returning and finally felt hydrated about ten that night.

Can you say "cooked?"

I was sore and it was comforting to see the others stretching and rubbing sore muscles and sucking down ibuprofen.

Each evening was filled with tire patching..

The effort of the day made sleep a welcome friend. After the dishes were done the conversation was short and we were soon horizontal.

I rose earlier than most and whipped out a double batch of competition scones. It may have been everyone was hungry, or far from civilization, or just kind, but the scones met with grand praise.

Can you believe we're doing it again ?

With mild trepidation, we donned our kits for the Sunday ride. We again headed east retracing the beginning of our epic the previous day. Despite sore legs and tired bones, after a social roll out, the pace ramped up to a furious pace on the single track.

Bee sting to the forehead

The uphill rollers were even faster today.

A bee tried to bite Matthew on the chest, but you can't bite through STEEL...

About ten miles in we took an alternate path and climbed some super steep loose trail that required skill just to stay upright. I leaned back to maintain traction as my quads screamed for a break.

At the bottom of the "plunge." Hmm, it even sounds steep..

The trail continued sharply up and if you stopped, you would be walking to the top. Finally the grade lessened and to a person we all blurted our joy at completing the climb.

The return was equally wild, but we had grown comfortable on our cross bikes at scary speeds. When we got to the house, we quickly packed and lashed the bikes for the return trip. To save time, we drove to the wide part of the river and washed the trail dirt from our bodies. We changed clothes in the woods and soon we were on our way home.

Le Tour de Crash

These riders aren't striking a pose to look good, they are trying to minimize the pain.
Graham Watson is full of crap. The pretty pictures we have in our minds of the riders going through fields of sunflowers is a lie. It is my belief that a more appropriate image would be that of a rat in a cage on a treadmill chasing a piece of cheese. Really good French cheese, but cheese none the less.

Last year we attended two stages of the Tour of California. There were bike riders to be sure. The riders were squeezed in between motorcycles and cars and vans in a procession that was nothing short of ridiculous.

In 1984 I happened to be working for the Los Angeles Olympic Organizing Committee when the Israeli athletes arrived for the Olympic Games. They closed down the freeway and the bus had a humongous escort that included US Army Huey helicopters flying overhead with doors open and trigger happy soldiers manning the Gatling guns who were whispering to themselves something to the effect of “make my day.” Since I am digressing I will say it made me proud to be an American and proud that we support Israel. The escort these riders get, while very different, is equally as impressive and/or ridiculous.

As we watch the TDF we forget that every picture comes from a camera on a motorcycle, or a helicopter, or some other unnatural object that is intruding on the riders. Yesterday I watched an official TDF car hit a rider at 40mph and two cyclists went down hard. One hit the pavement, the other landed on a barbed wire fence.

A bike racer shouldn't have to look between his legs and take inventory before continuing..

The commentators said it was unprecedented. I could only believe it was inevitable considering the narrow roads and aggressive nature of the whole spectacle. In the world that is professional cycling in 2011 there are so many players with so much money and so much power it seems as if the ones who have been squeezed out are the cyclists.

I must confess that I laugh when I see the tape of Chris Horner after completing the stage as he is the absolute definition of “dazed and confused.” “Did I finish?...I don’t understand, do I have a bruise?...did I finish? He asks in a sincere tone, his questions repeating in an endless loop.

While we fancy ourselves as discerning fans, we behave as if we are attending an event at a Roman Coliseum. We cheer as they carry off the fallen, only to then turn our attention to the survivors. While we would believe that cycling is bigger than any one rider, is it so big that the riders don’t matter.

I follow cycling enough to know the riders by sight. When I see the riders broken and bloodied it bothers me. I will admit I don’t like Vino and Alberto, but watching Vino break his femur as he flew into, and over, a guardrail makes even the most cynical Evo feel sympathy. Images of Jens, DZ, Levi, VDV, Chris Horner and others with broken bones reminds me this is a high stakes sport.

When a baseball player (like Ken Griffy) or a soccer player (like Steve Zakuani) breaks a bone in competition it is often front page news. In cycling, where theoretically there is no contact between contestants, it happens every day and nobody blinks.

The amazing thing is if you don’t crash, you just ride your bike until your body screams and you see who can suffer the most and then you find out who is a fraction of a percent better.

These guys are warriors. I just hope the battle is worth it.

Mountain biking is also pretty fun

A real "Sound of Music moment" (above Pipestone Canyon)

Hottie and I took some time in our favorite spot of Winthrop, Washington. We mixed road and mountain biking with eating and napping. My mum hung with Tux back at Bridge house and the break was wonderful.

Hottie sporting the summer colors on the backroads of Okanogan county

This was the first time Hottie was allowed to get on her mountain bike since her horrific surgery back in January 2010. She is so much stronger than she has been in years. I was reminded how scary fast she likes to go on downhills. I asked her to slow down and she ignored me.

Try and keep up, Evo...

After climbing to the top on the fire road, we now get to fly down the trail!

Congratulations, here is your cup

Thank me, I went out of my way to find a photo that didn't have a negative impact on appetite.

Last night, Hottie and I turned on the TV in time to watch the Dallas Mavericks win the NBA championship. Unlike cycling, they didn't usher them into a tent and ask them to pee in cups to test for drugs. As a cyclist, getting handed "the cup" usually doesn't mean a gold plated loving cup, it means pee here sir, and don't flush, or wash your hands until instructed to do so...

I was recently, "handed the cup." Did I win a race ? Well, sort of, I'm starting a new job and I guess I "beat" the other applicants. Just as if I had won my race at Nationals (I was in the top 100), I was asked to give a sample.

To celebrate, Hottie and I are enjoying some recreation, and we flogged ourselves on mountain bikes today.

A welcome break, in more ways than one...

Listen young stunners

Listen young stunners;
wintertime is over.
-Head Like A Kite
Spring has sprung!

Yesterday Hottie and I put in nearly forty hilly miles around the north end of Lake Washington. I commented to Hottie that I had forgotten about my riding companion. When she looked confused, I informed her that I meant that dark silhouette on the ground that looks like a stretched version of me. I couldn’t remember when last I had seen my shadow while riding. The warmth of sunshine on my black clothing was wonderful.

This weekend was the first time this year I spotted people riding who were seriously underdressed. We saw guys with bright red legs wearing shorts and short-sleeved jerseys. We still saw the crowd of bundled riders on the trail. So far in 2011 the riders on the road were generally serious and prepared accordingly.

Hottie and I didn’t drink enough so the ride took more out of us than it should have. We indulged in a couple of Kidd Valley burgers post ride. While I love my vegetarian brothers and sisters, every now and then a burger just tastes so right that I feel like singing. Lucky for everyone who isn’t me, I didn’t.

Tux got a chance to get out and stretch his legs before we rode so he would be a little tired while we were out. He pulled the covers down on our bed so he could lay his furry rump on our sheets. In that blissful state, he snoozed the hours away.

Today I went for my usual team ride and that was fun. I pushed a couple hills and got comments on my strength. I am planning a race next weekend. Stay tuned !! Near the end of the ride John had some wheel wobble and later found out he had a spoke nipple pull out and it cracked his rear rim. John is a beast who can, and does, destroy bike equipment at will.

I love a good omen and after playing HLAK’s “Listen young Stunners” on the way to the hill for the ride. After coffee on our way back we passed Dave (The HLAK Man) and he wished us well.

I am ready for winter to be over. Bring on the warmth.

An afternoon visit from my daughter, her husband and the superstar..
Speaking of warmth. Here is a bonus shot of Kyson:

I hope I am not cheapening my blog using photos of dogs and babies..

Cold news, hot news

Juxtaposition ?
First the cold news:
During lunch hour Tuesday I took the TT bike on a shakedown ride before the event this weekend. I'm glad I did as it needed some derailleur adjustment and I needed some more time in my "crouching tiger, hidden backache" position. When I rolled out, it was sunny and very chilly. After turning around on my out-and-back course, I spotted a few errant snowflakes blowing around, but nothing to get excited about. In a few short minutes big, wet flakes were coming down hard and were coating me like frosting. The combo of a time trial bike and snow just isn't something you see every day. Hottie and have been dreaming of hot weather, and were even planning a trip to a warmer place, but our invitation was suddenly withdrawn. We find ourselves feeling awkward, like a kid showing up at a ski slope in a swimsuit. But we will make the best of it I suppose.

The hot news:

Yes, I made this. I know, I know.
It has taken me a few years but I believe I have perfected scone baking. If the opportunity came up, I would enter my scones in a competition. I am grateful to my family for enduring the long road to success with the scones. In sharp contrast to my success with scones, I have had an equivalently extreme level of failure making bread. My failures have been so dramatic that many attempts went from oven to compost in a matter of seconds. Usually with a heavy thud; not traditionally associated with bread. I have also harbored a semi-secret desire to produce that holy grail of bread making, sourdough. After nearly two weeks of "grooming" (my word) my starter, I have had success with making sourdough. Last night, Hottie commented that a particular sample was the best bread I had ever made. Years and years ago a baseball player named Steve Garvey shared some insight into how he learned his backhand stroke in tennis. My bread success is similar.

Hottie update

Hottie rolling along

Hottie and I did a thirty mile ride recently. That is a new record since her back surgery a year ago. There was 1,450' of climbing and she didn't even flinch on the steep grade 26 miles into the ride.

Note the guy in the background that Hottie just dropped sitting up and peeling down after trying unsuccessfully to hang onto Hottie's fast moving wheel. It can be a cruel and competitive world out on the trail....

Squirt wax-based chain lube product review

Clean is beautiful !!

Eleven years ago I tried White Lightening chain lube. It went on clean looked to be the real deal. After just a few minutes of riding my drive train looked like I had ridden through an ocean of volcanic ash. I cleaned and re-applied and had the same result. To keep this brief I will simply tell you the same bottle is sitting in my garage at this moment. I quickly stopped using it.

Maintenance Prophet Lennard Zinn has proclaimed ProLink Gold to be the magic stuff and my limited testing of alternatives has given me no cause to doubt his proclamation. I have used it and turned on numerous friends to the wonderful liquid. I’ve tried Tri-flow, assorted lubes from Pedro’s, and the Rock and Roll stuff. For super wet conditions I may use some Pedro’s synthetic, otherwise I’m sticking with ProLink Gold.

At a cross race last season my teammate Kevin, with whom I share occasional tool and bike porn, pointed to a clean chain and told me of a new wonder lube. It is called “Squirt” and is made in South Africa. His chain looked clean compared to his rear cassette and I was curious. He said it was a wax based lube and I was predictably doubtful. Kevin has proven time and again to be knowledgeable, so I decided I would try it.

A few weeks later I obtained a small bottle and after dutifully cleaning my chain, cassette and rings, I gave it a try. Following the instructions I shook the bottle like crazy before applying, and dutifully dripped some on each link.

I reapplied the wax lube after a wet ride and had not yet formed an opinion. My next ride was long and wet and after I returned I decided to remove the chain so I could floss the cassette with a clean rag without the chain in the way.

The chain was gooey as if it had been lubed with bacon fat. Specifically it looked like bacon fat with dirt seasoning. The chain looked filthy and felt stiff. I didn’t have any frozen links, but it felt like the chain I pulled off a 1974 old Schwinn LeTour that sat idle for thirty years.

I cleaned the chain and put on some ProLink Gold. Then I repeated this process because it still looked dirty. Finally satisfied, I turned to the cassette. I flossed and flossed. I scrubbed with a brush and citrus degreaser. It still looked dirty. More flossing.

Nine years ago I regularly got schooled on rides by a guy named Felix. He road Campy equipped Italian bike with an eight speed cassette that was always black and dirty. I vowed never to let any bike get that dirty. My cassette was “Felix dirty.”

I pulled the wheel off and kept at it. I knew the cassette was silver in color and was determined to work until I saw that color again. Floss, brush, douse with degreaser, floss and repeat and repeat. Then on to the chainrings..

I’ve got half a bottle of Squirt you can have for cheap. And I’ll throw in the White Lightening as a bonus. If someone is reading this and can share some positive words about wax-based lubes, please tell me what I’m missing. Really.

Race Report Steilacoom 2010

I can see my shadow. Six more weeks of cyclocross ?
We Cyclocrossers like miserable conditions. But to be completely honest, we like it to be somewhat of an exception. Typically seasons start with races in the sunshine and each race the air gets cooler, leaves get brighter and the ground gets wetter. The conditions worsen each week until the lunacy of racing in the mud, wind and rain combine with a season of fatigue, injury, illness and equipment issues to reach a welcomed season ending finale in December.

This year the first race was held in a tropical downpour and every race this season has been a soggy two part event. First is the race to the finish line, the second, and simulations race, is a competition with hypothermia. Battling the cold seems to take an even harder toll on the body. After watching the rain bomb us on Saturday, I was not excited about racing Sunday.

Getting up and brewing coffee and Bob’s Red Mill steel cut oats which are awesome with brown sugar and buttermilk, yes buttermilk (forgive the shameless plug for one of the sponsors of our racing series) before dawn I noted our deck was wet. As the light grew in the east, I saw a partly clear sky with friendly clouds. The day turned out to be bright and that was the perfect antidote for my mid season blues.

Since my last two races were on my single speed it took me a few minutes to get used to shifting again. The course was a power course with a long gradual uphill and plenty of grass. Since it was Halloween, I was in the spirit.

I typically get a good start and fade after the first lap. I got my call up to the front row; which is still a thrill, and took my spot. I hit the first corner in the middle of a 55 person pack and then a series of switchback corners on grass gave me no chance to pass. If I could get around one guy, there was another rider next to him in the line I would have used to pass. We then hit the dirt in a line and I moved up a couple spots. A sharp and loose left hand turn signaled the beginning of the climbing. The curvy path was a little wider than singletrack with only one sharp corner; it ascended to the top of the course. I flew past people. I hit the top in much better position and spent the rest of the race moving past people. I thought I finished about 13th, but in fact ended up 19th. I guess the real fast guys just rode off the front and I didn’t see them at all. It was a nice course with four distinct sections so mentally you couldn’t get too far ahead of yourself.

My bike collected some wet mud, but I ended up fairly clean. After washing my face off I went to help Hottie photograph the other races. Since it was sunny I didn’t need to carry an umbrella, so I just carried her bag. She never opened it, so I have no idea what was in it.

I’m still 8th in points in the series, so I should enjoy one more week on the front row. After this weekend there is a break in the series so I can regroup for the final push of the last two Seattle races, Portland and Bend.

Guest Post RACE REPORT Cascade Classic 2010

John racing Cyclocross Nationals in Bend in December 2009. Note the hint of intensity...
If I get some photos of John from the race, I will amend the post accordingly.

Big John is one of the cornerstones of team 20/20 Fuel and this was what his second year of the Cascade Classic looked like from his Italian saddle.

I finished the Cascade Classic Stage Race in central Oregon yesterday afternoon and am now here for a week with the family. I ultimately finished 27th in the GC. 38 riders started in my 45 + category. At the end of the grueling 4 races over 3 days, we were down to 28. As mentioned to some of you previously, the Masters category includes 35+ and 45 + riders. We race together, but are placed separately. There was no Cat 1 to Cat 5 distinction. Accordingly, there were 100 riders starting the race in our Masters group. All the riders that I recognized from Seattle were Cat 2's, including Kyle Farrell of Garage, who actually won the Cat 2 race here last year. Participating in this race was a humbling experience.

7/23/10 Stage 1 Cascade Lakes Road Race (71 miles) 28th place

88 degrees at the 11:50 AM start and it climbed to 92 during the ride. (The new 2020 white jersey was a Godsend. Whose idea was that?) With less than a minute to go at the start line, we were informed that there would only be one feed zone for water bottle distribution even though the Tech Guide had two shown on the map. Luckily, I had an extra 1/2 bottle in my jersey pocket with two full bottles in the cages. This race immediately started with a 3 mile climb toward the Mount Bachelor ski area and then turned to the left and headed downhill for about 11 miles toward Sunriver before it headed gradually back upward on Forest Service roads to the ski area parking lot from the back side of the mountain. The Forest Service roads undulated a bit. There was a strict yellow line rule in effect for the entire race. The race was fast from the beginning with surges and slowing in the pack that kept me on my toes at all times. I hung on well until the sanctioned feed zone at 49.1 miles. It was great to see my wife there in the 2020/Fuel jersey and she made a perfect bottle hand off with words of encouragement.

Leaving the feed zone, the pace quickened and I had to ride like hell to hang on up a rise for about a kilometer. Finally, things settled and I found myself safely back in a mid pack position near Greg Kauper and Todd Gallagher of IJM. I was starting to feel like I was up to the task at this point of hanging on with the big boys for the next 20 miles. There I stayed for another 10 miles. Unfortunately, at mile 61, the real climbing began with sharp acceleration. I tried to stay on, but realized quickly that I couldn't and kept in mind that I had 3 more races to complete over the next two days. I backed off and trudged up at my own pace.

After the surge, I passed several other 35 + and 45 + straggling riders and then was totally on my own. I began to feel horrible in the heat and wind as my water bottles drained. Luckily, I got an extra bottle from the wheel car as it passed me. Otherwise, I would not have made it. Eight of the last ten kilometers were a steep ascent in direct sun and I was happy to have 27 teeth to use on the inside of the cassette. Finally, with the road flattening a bit with 2 K to go, I was able to pick up speed for the big ride around the ski area parking lot to the finish. Exhausted, I finished 28th at 3:04:51. This was nearly 4 minutes slower than my finish in this race last year. Interestingly, to give you some idea of the strength of the masters field, my time in 28th position was still five, count them, FIVE minutes ahead of the Cat 4 winning time.

Overall, a disappointing result, but I survived to race the next day.

7/24/10 Stage 2 Skyliner Drive Time Trial (15.2 miles) 24th place

Finishing the road race in 28th place left me with an early 9:21 AM start time.

The course was literally 7.6 miles up and 7.6 miles down from the turnaround. I started out spry at a constant 25 to 27 mph out of the parking lot and onto the first relatively flat 1/2 mile, but then felt heaviness in the legs from the day before as the climb went on and on and on. Luckily, I saw the turnaround ahead just as I was contemplating giving up. I flew down at a constant speed of about 30 mph on average and finished at 38:46. All in all, I was not unhappy with the result and still felt that I had life in the legs for the crit later in the afternoon.

7/24/10 Stage 3 Downtown Criterium (40 minutes) 32nd place

This was an amazing course. Downtown Bend's main streets were totally blocked off. A huge crowd lined the course.

Why did I take that last pre-race ride around the course? As a result, I started one row from the back in a crowd of 100. From the beginning it was a rocket fast race on a superfast, clockwise, 4 corners course. One end of the course was a sharp turn protected by hay bales. I hung on for dear life looking at the radar speed sign near the finish line at each lap. Honestly, I never saw the reading go below 31 mph while with the pack. With about 15 minutes to go, I lost my grip and got dropped. I gave it all I had to get back on, but to no avail and was pulled with just about 10 minutes left. I worked really hard in this attempt riding solo and had good call outs on the PA system for 2020/Fuel from Seattle. Only later did I learn that I was one of the last riders pulled and that the chief judge gave me an additional lap because I appeared to be gaining ground in my second to last lap. Fortunately, I had enough time in when I was pulled to make the time cut to continue into the next stage.

Again, I was not happy with my placing, but gave all I had.

7/25/10 Stage 4 Aubrey Butte Circuit Race (67 miles)

This race was a 4 lap race run on a 17-mile circuit. In the last third of the circuit there was a significant 1 K climb at about mile 11 and 2 k's of climbing with a steep stretch at about mile 13. This was yet another course that Brothers Laesch and Wood would have eaten up. The second climb section was a bear, at least for me. However, I figured with my size I could make up time and hang on with the descents. Unfortunately, things did not work out as planned.

In the first lap, I hung front to mid pack, really moving forward on descents and keeping momentum up rolling hills. I stayed in place in the first 1 k climb and for most of the second big climb at miles 13 to 15. I dropped off a bit at 15, but with the pack in striking distance and a long descent, I figured I would catch on just after the sharp right turn at a traffic circle to start the second lap on the circuit. Unfortunately, I carried too much speed into the sharp right and had to abort the turn just ahead of the following official car and headed around the traffic circle for a ways to the left. By the time I turned around, the pack was well down the road and out of reach. This left me with a 50 mile solo ride to finish the race.

I rode at a steady pace alone for the remaining 3 laps, but it was tough in 90 degree heat and with a slight wind from the west. I came upon several other dropped riders early on, but no one showed interest in working together. I toyed with the idea of calling it a day after the third lap, but knew deep inside that I had to finish. The final lap was literally painful, but I ultimately finished 27th out of the 28 remaining riders in my category with a solid out of the saddle solo sprint at the end. I sprinted because I was so ready to get off my bike.

My time in this one, was over 20 minutes off my time in this race last year, but last year I stayed with the group into the third lap final climb. It was impossible to keep much speed riding alone for 50 miles. I was totally exhausted after the race and my feet were on fire at the pedal points. I was pleased that I simply finished the race. Looking at the results today, I noted that there were 3 DNF's among the 45 + riders and 5 DNF's among the 35 + riders in the race and that I also finished ahead of 3 other 35 + riders. This made me feel a little bit better about the result, as I sure felt like I was the very last rider on the course when I finished.

Conclusion

As mentioned, I finished 27th in the GC with 38 starting 45 + riders and 28 finishing. I had hoped to have a better result this year than last year, but things did not work out as planned. I believe altitude and heat, in particular, impacted me significantly. This is a tough race with a strong masters field. Today, I feel good about sticking with it and finishing each of the stages. Although last night, I was of a different mindset, today I am beginning to think I might try this again next year.

Being in central Oregon, I am well aware that CX season is just around the corner. Nationals will here again in December. Today, it was 100 degrees warmer than it was here on the first day of Nationals last December.

I rode in SHORTS yesterday

Although these are my bony knees as photographed in September; aside from the color, they look the same.

The warmest Seattle January on record has given way to a February that isn't too bad either. Paolo and I were able to ride again on Thursday. When the sun was shining Saturday I had to hop on the Ti miracle and go for a spin. I was able to go with shorts and a long sleeve jersey. I enjoyed another dry one today. Life is good.

First impressions Fizik Aliante

My loyal followers will note that I usually wear something out before I feel I can provide an adequate product review of said item. Those of you foolish enough to check this space often are aware I am searching for a new saddle. I concluded the Arione was not for me and I tried an Antares. While drastically different than the Arione, my initial impression was that (like the Arione) it must be an acquired taste. I was resigned to the fact that my search would be long and painful.

When I plopped my backside on the Aliante today, I wondered if some Italian elves had secretly made a plaster cast of my butt and then built the Aliante, because the saddle felt wonderful. I may not be out of the woods yet, but I am hopeful. Perhaps there is cause for joy in Mudville tonight. If this does work, and I think it will be the one, I will give a full review when I have a several hundred more miles on it.

Runnin on empty

Summer is going full speed and I've been catching up since returning from Syria-Egypt-France. To prepare for the team trip I started riding before work on Wednesdays. I have been spinning on Mondays and Fridays and those are pretty intense, but are short. I've been going 32-42 miles in the early mornings. For those of you who don't tickle the 48th parallel, it gets light about 5AM (sunrise 5:15 or so these days). I am able to rise, ride, shower and make it to my office before anyone notices I'm a little late. I feel pretty good until about 11AM when I feel like eating my desk.

As an added bonus, since returning my back has been strong and I've been running a little bit again. I heard from an old running friend who confessed to running a marathon not too long ago. It brought back some memories of my old running days. This is where you connect the photo to the text. While I am passionate (OCD) about cycling, it is fun to run a bit again. And since Zach is willing to run at the crack of dawn, we've been logging some miles together.