Good

Yesterday's and today's training consisted of Olbrich Park hill loops. In the 34x18 I can easily climb for a minute and brake-drag the downhill for a 30 second rest. 30 minutes yesterday, 55 minutes today. The head wasn't so bad with the helmet sitting at the bottom of the hill.

Karen comes back Saturday afternoon. She'll be greeted by my Dad and Sephie as I'll be in Wausau for the Marathon
. I just saw the race distance is 9 miles shorter. The distance is now 29 miles in 3 laps. I saw Jesse will be running a 36x16 for his race. Unless the course is similar to Rock Cut I'll be comfortable running a 34x17 on Saturday's sighting with a 34x18 potentially the race gearing.

Where's P-Lip at these days?

Republican Neglect

The sun was out and the sky cloud free, so I cleaned the garage work bench. Sephie and I managed to while away the morning and early afternoon relaxing and playing with neighbors. Guess who did which. Once I'd made up my mind to do MOTAB I arranged child care for Sephie. She spent the afternoon and evening with Kenisha's family having a great time.

With Seph occupied I had one thing on my agenda- a real ride. So I loaded up the Rig and went to Quarry Ridge Park. When I arrived there were 3 cars and only two riders on the trail. Where the hell is everyone, the Kettles? With the trail wide open I started burning laps. I don't know who is maintaining the trail but I need to volunteer some weed whacker time. The weeds are almost grip high on my bike and the lines on the lower side of the trail are pretty limited. As I was running the 32x22 from Lake Geneva I thought I'd just work on the sandstone climb and the descent switchbacks on the final part of the loop. 2 hours later I was getting bored turning 9 minute laps. I'm pretty sure I have every rock, root and tree memorized on that trail. Also, a 34x18 is a better gearing for that loop.

On the way back I stopped into Mickey's for the MOTAB pre-lube. DJ John, Elizabeth, Lyle, Zack, Kelly, 9, Tim and P-lip all helped kill 4 pitchers of Shiner Bock. Maybe it's just me but Shiner tastes significantly better from a keg than from a bottle. Or maybe it's because it was before a ride. At zero hour I went back to the house and grabbed the Tanknium for the "race." There were many others in attendance, CF Guru & neighbor Paul, Revolution Jeff and maybe 15 others. Beer varied from PBR to a mini keg of Oberon. Bikes were piled and Kittens gave us the start... I'm getting ahead of myself. Dial back the Way-back Machine to Mickey's. Kittens had a mysterious silver box with "DFL" spray painted on the lid. He told us we lacked the clearance for him to reveal the contents, but told us we'd see when the DFL was awarded later. Mr Peabody has returned us to the start of the "race." Once the bikes were un-piled we started doing counterclockwise loops around the building. Ramps were erected with cinder blocks on both sides and jumping occured. 9 was regularly ghost-riding his bike under the tubular gate. In the end a winner was declared and I started to trackstand at the finish hoping to discover what was contained within the DFL "football". I gave it my best shot but I put my foot down a fraction of a second before Lyle crossed earning him the DFL. At ceremonies Kittens revealed that the contents of the box, F&R quick releases and a chainstay protector, were stripped from the POTUS Trek Fuel which had been warrantied for a second time. It seems W doesn't know how to maintain the shock so it leaks pressure during normal use. Eventually it lacks any air so it effectively becomes a hardtail, but the shock mount embedded in the carbonfiber of the frame can't handle the stress of a neglected shock so it cracks the frame. So Trek warrantied his frame twice. The option of repainting the frame without repairing it was shot down as they thought the paint would crack before the end of his administration. Maybe I should submit my resume and hope for an appointment the post of "White House Bike Mechanic." I'd probably get fired for constantly forgetting to put a seat on the bike.

MOTAB tonight

It's a bella day out there and I'm sitting at the computer while Seph watches TV. Yesterday was overcast and raining so we were confined to indoor activites. A visit to an LBS - in this case Village Pedaler showed me the depth of Sephie's thoughts. "Daddy, why is it 'Village' and not city? They named their shop wrong. They should change that." I explained to her that possibly it was a village when they started selling bikes and they've been so busy they haven't had time to change the sign. I don't think she bought into that answer. While there she keenly noticed the Planet Bike pump handle was shaped like a video game controller, and we don't own a video game.

Hey, if shaping a pump handle like a video game controller gets couch potatoEs out on the road, great.

Anyhow, after talking to Karen I registered and paid for the race at 9 Mile. I'llbe working in Madison this week so I should be able to train for an hour or so before picking Seph up from school.

Not that it should be remotely considered as training, tonight is MOTAB. Since it is just down the street at the area behind Olbrich Gardens I don't have an excuse not to attend. I'll either drop Seph off at Kenisha's or bring her along. From what I've heard, MOTAB is a lot like a Hash, only without the bullshit.

Time to start the day.

Drama

Life continues as the bikes sit idle. Sephie had a good day at school save for a broken ankle. Perhaps broken is too strong a word. During her gym class she turned it a bit though not enough to justify a call by the school nurse. She did turn it enough to have her Pop-Pop make custom crutches from some fallen branches on her walk home. I consulted my medical books and the course of treatment will try her constitution...TV and seedless watermelon.

Is there a relationship between VW's and hitchhikers? At the Hwy 73 exit where I meet my co-worker every day for the drive to Beloit there was a young couple sitting at the on-ramp. As I loaded my tools into my trunk I contemplated giving them a ride. I had the room. Thunderstorms were looming. The truck stop at that exit was closed for business so their opportunities for a trucker picking them up were less than normal. They were surprised when I stopped and popped the trunk. Dave and Cheryl had come from Tennessee and were on their way to Seattle. Dave's southern drawl was as thick as the blacktop he hoped to be spreading when he gets to Washington. They smelled human but they were good kids and were very grateful for the lift. I took them 40 miles to the TA Truck Stop just north of the airport here, which took me a whopping 4 miles past my home. I hope they do well, and not just with their road trip.

Karen will be staying in Seattle long enough to greet them. Weirder things have happened, it could happen. Her mom is doing better and may be discharged Monday. Karen wants to help her in her own home rather than being cared for in a nursing home, so until Janice is better at home Karen will stay. We'll miss her but we're fine.

Nietzsche can lick my balls

Friedrich Nietzsche wrote "That which does not kill us makes us stronger." I hope he routinely had the crap beat out of him.

Karen and her Mom are doing well. The results of a CAT scan have revealed the nature of her illness and distress is pneumonia and not cancer as we had feared. She'll remain in the hospital until next Friday, at least, but there is significant cautious optimism. If all holds true, Karen will be returning Monday.

Sephie and I are well with the help of my Dad and Judy. Seph's soccer and swimming last night was a welcome distraction for her. She was loaned to the opposing team and learned how to be a full-time defender. The coach of the other team was able to complete his roster with Seph and her teammate Sawyer. They don't keep score but it was easily 20+ to almost nothing. Seph enjoyed scoring against her regular team and almost defended a shut-out. After that she wanted Sushi. It was late so we had that tonight for dinner. I love having a 1st grader who knows seafood is more than breaded pollock.

Yin & Yang

While today started as a good day and progressed to a better day, it has now officially become crap. After work I had to make a house call to Kenisha's parent's house to rewire a fixture so their new house guest would have light. After that a ride on the 1x8 felt good. Dinner with Karen and Sephie, doing math riddles and talking about our days with Sephie... all very good. Then the phone rang. I'm not sure who it was, Karen's sister or brother, her Mon's doctor or a nurse, but by the end of the converstation our day had changed. Karen's mom had been admitted to the hospital last week when her cancer had got the better of her. Matters have become much worse so she's leaving tomorrow morning for Seattle. Everything is on hold.

Race turned Track meet

As is visible below things in Lake Geneva could have been better. The first 2 1/2 laps were fine. The 32x22 gearing was perfect and as predicted slower and lapped traffic was an issue but the gearing help make it managable. 10th place looking very doable and disaster struck. You know those little saplings that are cut away leaving a mini-stump about 3 inches high? Well, today's race was the first at this new venue at the old PlayBoy Club, so there were too many of those things to count. Overall the trail was great, but I managed to clip one of those mini-stumps with half a lap to go. It acted like a tire lever and off came the bead of the rear tire and the tube popped out bringing the bike to a stop. I grabbed the valve stem and started to let the air out in the hopes I could get going again. It took forever to get deflated enough to put back inside the tire and by then Rob, Greg and a few other SS's came and went. I like the guys on SS's. They all asked the same question. "Are you okay?" Young Greg even asked If I needed anything. Just a CO2 cartridge. I ripped off my frame pump and got to work. I grew impatient and gave up on the pump. I started riding with what must have been 10psi and it lasted 100 feet before the tube was out again only this time it wrapped around the rear hub and in between the cog and chain. So I reseated the tire and started running and riding. I figured I'd try to salvage a placing, which I did... second to last, but only 14 minutes behind 1st place. Looking at the results I was running roughly 3 minutes behind Rich before disaster struck.

I did find amusement in the Multi's that caught me. Most of them simply noted the flat and commented "that sucks." But there were a few that were hilarious. On one ridable area a guy in the 40-44 group asked "did you know you have something caught in your chain? It looks like tube." I told him I hadn't noticed and let him pass. Another 40-44 guy commented "all you Singlespeeds should have to race with one flat tire. It's the only way I can keep up with you young guys." He didn't seem any happier when I told him my age. Another guy made the usual "that sucks" comment but asked what it was in my chain. When I told him it was my tube he said "most guys put the tube inside their tires. You might try that next time."


Away I went.

Yup, it's a fast start

John(Kittens) in the BKB kit being shown how to target fixate before a ridable downhill. I'm a couple of bikes behind off camera.

I didn't see this but I feel his pain.

Thanks to Rusty for the pics above.

After the race the weather changed. It had been 50 degrees all day but it started raining. A lot. The Comp/Elite race was going to get interesting. Jesse was doing well running in 2nd with Marco just behind. But on the 3rd (4th?) lap he was in first. I think the multi he was chasing became a Singlespeed and he couldn't adapt, or maybe he crashed. The mud was slippery enough it looked as though they were trying to ride across a floor covered in marbles.

I'm irritated the tire came off, but as I chanted to myself for 15 minutes after the race "that's racing." The IRC Mythos CX is a loose beaded tire... maybe I'll just get an the similar Bontrager I saw on the back of John's Rig. In two weeks I'll either ...
... get a CO2 cartridge set-up
... Stans
... do nothing

At least I didn't crash.

Pear Shaped

"...Can do, can do..."

"I got a horse right here, his name is Paul Revere... can do..."

I'll be running that old show tune through my head during my race. Yeah, go ahead and mock, but show tunes have tempo. I'll need tempo after passing all the back markers. That will be the day's theme. We, the collective of SS's, will be gridded last for the start. Sounds like some fun. After doing a lap with a 34x22 I thought I had it dialed. As I rolled through the parking lot I saw Rich trying to change his chainring on his El Mariachi while Rob unloaded his Rig. As we talked about the course and gearing Rich said the smartest thing about gearing I've heard in a while. "we'll be passing all the slow multis so we should be geared accordingly." I'd geared the Rig as if I was riding unimpaired. He was right, I needed a lower gear. So I needed to put on the 32. Not having it with me I definately had to go home for the night. So after a Muddy Cup smoothie and hanging out with the usual suspects, I headed home.

After dinner and a beer I'll watch "The Good Shepherd" and hit the sack. It's better than camping.

Here's some images from the photographer at the Platteville TT.

Zen and now

Everything came together this evening. I hopped on the Rig with the intention of reliving MBM solo. When I got to the cut-off under the bridge I decided to do laps at Badger Prairie instead. As I turned onto the approprite trail I saw a woman on an MTB coming from the other intersecting trail. When I got to Verona Road, she wasn;t too far back so I waited so I could ahve some company for the boring spin out to BP. Her name is Amelia, I think, and wouldn't you know the first person she mentions is Fang. She knows the BKB and asks if I'm headed to Quarry Ridge Park. Ummm... Quarry Ridge? So she showed me the the park right off the trail. She was there to ride with the MadFORCs groups so I thanked her for the company and I took off down the Quarry trail. Finally a trail close to home. After a lap I came out at the trail head and was greeted by familiar faces. Fang, Ryan Shiroma, Josh Giffey and a coworker of Josh's were hanging out. Those sandbaggers had met at 5 and were doing laps. So went back to riding after a chat. I'll be going back often. There was speculation it will be an alternative site for Wednesday TT's. I hope so. I remember suffering more at Blackhawk TT's so I'd rather suffer less. Everyone took off after a couple of laps. I did a couple more laps solo and headed home. 2 hours spinning the shit out of the 34x19 and an hour of trail.

Sweet! Bummer...

Today was the final day of day school. Sweet! Now I have to work a full 40 hours a week. Bummer. Took the final exam and got a 100%. Sweet! Spent the rest of the day fucking off with the other apprentices. Sweet! Zip-tied one to his chair after he fell asleep. Sweet! Had to go inside when the rain came. Bummer.

Enough of that. Stopped by TBS East Sieeeeda and found out it won't be too long before 19" Ferrous' will be availible. I may have to pull the pin on one... maybe. In the mean time I picked up a sweet pair of pink grips with white stars for the Rig. It might contrast the BKB kit well when it shows.

After the exam today we had a cook-out before the rain came. Before the burgers & brats were ready, a few of us started playing baseball. Nothing serious, just keeping busy with guys half my age. One of the guys hit a bouncing ball to me out in left field which I scooped up with my Dale Murphy Rawlings glove and promptly fired to second base. Right into the waiting glove for a quick tag out. Everyone looked stunned and one of the guys says "shit! you know how to play baseball?! We thought you just rode bicycles." Later, before the movie they were talking about plans for the summer, Volleyball, Softball, Bowling(?) and other "games" these guys will try to endure without pulling a muscle or otherwise hurting themselves. I thought about my summer plans, which almost exclusively consists of dodging handlebars at the start of the race followed by trees and other obstacles. How was I fortunate enough to find cycling? An abondoned green Sekine on the corner of Bryan & Milwaukee makes it easy to remember. My Sekine was purple. I bought it used from a buddy in Menasha and spent the next few years changing the very basic SunTour parts to Campagnolo. By 1980 it was full Nuovo Record with tubulars and not getting raced. Long training rides around Dodgeville, where cycling was ridiculed, and a trip up to Reedsburg and back kept me thinking of racing. The summer between sophomore and junior year was somewhat special. A classmate had a foreign exchange student from France. When I rode into town to hang out with my classmate the french student saw my Campy equipment and thought he'd found a civilized and worldly cyclist. I'd heard of the TdF but that i had no reference for his enthusiasm. Now I understand, but then his stories of Hinault and Fignon and other French cyclists were lost on a phillistine. It wouldn't be until 1984 when I dragged out the Sekine while in the Army in Tacoma, Washington that I would feel the passion again. Again, long training rides around Mt Rainer and the Cascades would suppliment my running. While I enjoyed ripping off 10K's in 32 minutes all day long, I wanted to race the bicycle. It wouldn't be until 1987 when I would be tested. I was living in Arlington, Texas and I discovered a criterium at a nearby industrial park. Not being licensed I entered the citizens race wearing the jersey a girlfriend had givien me... a white jersey with a rainbow of blue, red, black, yellow and green. At the start an official came up to me and said "do you know you can't race in that jersey?" I didn't know, it was the only jersey I had. He chucked and said "Good luck Mr Roche" as he walked away. I did the jersey proud. Having been carless for the better part of that year I was averaging 60 miles a day just commuting to work. I didn't have any tactics to use so I thought I'd try to learn as I went. I got bored with the pace so I took off and started pulling everyone around the lap. In no time I'd ridden everyone off my wheel, but the announcer with the bullhorn was really excited when I lapped the field a second time. I got a nice blue ribbon that has been lost to too many moves, but my best prize was when the official gave me a USCF license application and a rule book before I rode home. Someone else wanted me to race. That winter I joined a team, the Mid-Cities Wheelman sponsored by Bicycles, Inc., as a Cat 4. Halfway through the year I was a 3. The next year I was asked to join a 2/3 team and I had my hands full. Weekends in 1/2/3 races for truckloads of cash and as many racers wanting the win. Weeknights in Plano doing "training" criteriums and circuit races with 150 riders for the princely sum of your entry fee if you placed in the top 10. At least I got my name in the paper a few times for placing in the top 5. More fuel for the fire. Then came the reality check. At a crit in Irving, Tx there was a young Subaru-Montgomery rider. Word was out the owner of Richardson Bike Mart would pay cash to any rider who could beat him. He'd never get to spend a dime. His bounty went unspent as Lance Armstrong lapped us solo that day. Later that year Lance would lap us twice while towing 5 other riders in a crit in Waco and still sprint to the win. The next year I would do my last race at that level with a desire to win. It was Texas District Championships. Lance would win and I would survive. My brother Dan was my soigneur on the brute of a feed zone climb. Water and encouragement were there every lap but I was easily 30 minutes back with too many miles to go. It was a matter of pride to finish TDC. On average only 25% finished a 100+ mile course in the hill country south of Austin in late May. Heat and hills took their toll on most and I'd failed to finish 3 times before. Knowing my competitive days were gone had a sobering effect when I came to that realization during a race.

That fall brought me into mountain bike racing with some enthusiasm. I'd dorked around the winter before riding the trails south of DFW airport at Hwy 360. The service manager of the shop, Butch Wells, had been Tx State Expert Champion twice so he was good to have as a skills mentor. We did group/employee rides before and after work and I was finding enthusiasm again. Butch convinced me to do the Beginner race at the Waco stop for the TX State MTB Series on my full rigid (duh, no Rockshox around yet) Mongoose with U-brake). I should have been racing a category up so the win wasn't as big of surprise as it could have been. Top 5 finishes the rest of the series brought an automatic upgrade to Sport where I found happiness in competition. Training less made racing harder and a move to Wisconsin killed training as work and school took a priority.

Today it only takes me a moment to find satisfaction in cycling. I can go out on the Seven and hammer as best I can. I can go out on the Rig and dodge trees. If I'm only able to maintain my current fitness I'll be happy at the end of the year, but I do have expectations of improvement. I would like to feel the pleasure of a win again. I'm not dilusional, I won't be keeping my wheel on Jesse's except around the parking lot...

but I do have Desire.

I feel like shit

I don't know the facts but I had to do something. After a really good day at work I came home ready to brave the 86 degree heat and winds on a bike. As I'm sitting in the upstairs, um, office, I can hear the neighbors behind my house having a domestic dispute. With just open windows, at 150 feet, and with a stiff crosswind I could hear a >300lb man raging verbally against his wife. So I called 911. Better safe than sorry. In the time it took me to get my kit on and air up the rear tire on the Rig there were 3 MPD squads in the street. I roll off toward the RR tracks for a rough work-out and the Thin Blue Line has things under control. After a brief stop at TBS East Sieeeeeeeda to check the slow leak on the rear tire I head down the RR line easterly. Suffice it to say I had a good ride. Upon my return 3 hours later the neighbors are in chaos. I suspect the husband was arrested as his wife and childeren are being attended to by a few of the wife's family. Currently a 2yr old is hysterically refusing to enter a car. The other neighbors seem to feel the right thing was done but it doesn't make me feel better.

Finished the cleaning of the plumbing after a rainy Mother's Day. Met a new neighbor, James Derby, Comp racer and friend to BKB. It took me a while to remember cheering him on at Iola. Found a few Xtreme Photos online http://xtrphoto.com/gallery/main.php?g2_itemId=496106 I like the one where I'm passing the guy in the green jersey. He'd repass me on the next climb but I beat him to the finish. Tomorrow I WILL RIDE HARD.

Lake Geneva next week.

I've found myself distracted by a conversation I had with Jesse, Marco and Fang in Rockford about me dragging out the multispeed for some races. I'm feeling like the multispeed, in this case my 1995 Cannondale M900 1x8, is a tattered parachute. I should be "fighting" with the rigid Rig and never considering using the M900 to "bail out." Sometimes I see multis like this...


Still, I look at the 40-44 multi group and I wonder how far up in their grill I'd be on the M900. They were barely 9 minutes ahead with the "advantage" of gears. But then so was 1st SS. Maybe I'll bring it just to see if it feels better. Or maybe I'll leave it in the garage, finish the 69er conversion and use it for the WEMS races. the shopping list for that is short.. Fork, grips, Mary or Origin 8 Space Bar, Disc brake set for the front and a longer stem.

I'll have a good excuse

This week has been shot in the foot. Paying attention to true priorities has significantly reduced my training time. The joys of home ownership. Sephie's soccer yesterday went as well as it could given the leadership of the other team. Last year when her team played them they got schooled on how to play dirty. When 6 and 7 year olds are causing intentional harm to other 6 and 7 year olds there's a problem. Last year it was another father and I confronting the "coach" of the other team. I've never been serious about having a 7 year old and his coach arrested before then... it was either that or punch the coach in the nose. Yesterday was better, our kids played solidly, no score is kept so they're focused on having fun. I had to mock the other coach when he continually used hockey terms with his thugs. "Billy you're the right wing" and so on. Even in adult soccer the boundries are guidlines and continual play is encouraged. This idiot is the only coach, and I do mean only, that has a whistle. He loves stopping play at incedental hand balls and when the dandelions cause the ball to walk out of bounds. I did have to tell him that it is more important that the kids have time playing rather than running throw-in drills for his team. Still, the kids retained their focus and showed us the real reason they play... the treats at the end of the game. Whether it's grapes and water or cookies and juice boxes they all bee-line to the parent with the treats and it's back to being the kids they want to be without our direction.

the 3 most important rules

Early in my apprenticeship I had a chance to work with plumbers. Everyone always jokes about other trades being lesser than their own, but the best joke I heard relates to plumbers.

There are 3 things a plumber needs to know.
1. Shit flows down hill. (but you can pump it up hill with an electrician's help)
2. Payday is Friday.
3. Never chew your fingernails.

You might think #3 is a no brainer, but there are guys in all the trades that will not be able to get that one straight.

With Dennis' help and guidance I was successful in replacing and repairing the sewer drain and stack from the kitchen. It doesn't leak and the pipe I installed is plumb and square. It's a shame to cover it in drywall, but then all my work it that way.

Now that I'm done playing "This Old House" I can ride my bike again. I hope to do that tonight.

People

I am not generally a calm person. When someone causes damage to my home and then takes money for services not rendered I want to cause them harm. Slow, focused and intense harm. Harm that makes them plead to me to stop.

When I came home from 8 hours of bullshit at school to find that RotoRooter had broken a sewer drain pipe during the annual root removal I schedule... and charged me $225 forthe pleasure, I went through the roof.

Fortunately I know a plumber/cyclist. Tomorrow I'll be in a better frame of mind after borrowing a few tools of destruction from the service truck and a visit to Home Depot.

A ride made things better, until I found a broken spoke from Sunday. I thought I'd just put a minor kick in the rear wheel while blasting through the pine tree tunnel, but after my 12th climb up the sled hill at Hiestand Park I paused to assess the rear wheel wobble. Wouldn't you know it was a simple spoke broken at the hub flange on the rotor side. So I did a set of sit-ups and two more hill climbs and toddled home.

I zipped over to the East Sieeeeeeeda Trek store and Kevin hooked me up with a shiny new 292mm DT, and tossed in a nipple for free. Before leaving he let me put a Paragon front wheel in a Cronus equipped with a 26" Al Switchblade fork. There is plenty of room for a Jones ACX , which means it will allow the M900 to be a 69er.

But the fork will come after the plumbing repairs.

The WORS beings

Saturday's preride told me two things about my fitness. I'm not as fit as I had hoped but I'm not that far from where I want to be, for a month ago. I'm caught in limbo. As I explained to Spencer Strigel after the race, I'm caught between gears. I could have ridden up all the climbs if I'd run a 21 or 22, but then I'd have been screwed on the flats where everyone else was running a 19, 18 or 17. I socialized with a trio of newbies camped across from me. They had great attitudes but I didn't get their names and they packed up and were gone before I finished my race. I hope I run into them again. I went into Iola for dinner and shared a table with Rick Walls and his Significant Other Elizabeth. Rick had a rough season last year in SS Comp so he downgraded to Sport. He was going to be running the same 34x19 so I felt somewhat more comfortable but I sensed he would be faster than me.

Race day brought slightly warmer temps and a desire to put a 20 on the back. I resisted and left the gearing alone and had a good warm-up ride with John. Don fucked us royally when he staged all the first timers and teen multispeeders in the front. The familiar faces of Stuart Sheldon and Josh Giffey were with me when the flag dropped. Stuart and others were gone but I found myself with KittenFactory for the first lap... well, most of it until he left me. I settled into a tempo and made the best of it. There was one SS within sight so I kept trying to gain ground. I slowly started to reel him in, especially on descents and the twisties. I put a solid move on him on the last part of the second lap and the tempo resumed. As I came out of the pine tree tunnel Ben Griggs told me I had another SS ahead and I should push the pace. Sooooo... back to work I went. Sure enough, as I began the first climb after the start I saw a SS in a green jersey walking. That was all the motivation I needed to climb that hill for the third time. He remounted as I got to the top and I showed him the fast lines around all the multispeeds on the way to the bowl. He rode the steeper climb after the bowl but I'd shot my wad climbing out of the bowl so I had to walk. I caught him again by the start of the next climb and the cycle began again. On the last hard climb I had nothing and he ran up leaving me with some spinning multis. I could still see him a couple hundred yards ahead so I wasn't going to give up. I concentrated on riding the technical sections as smoothly as possible without using the brakes and in no time I has on him. As I started to wind up to get his wheel he made a last second move on a group of much slower multis. I was stuck behind a 12-14 yr old but he was trying his best. I gave him words of encouragement and blasted cleanly past when the trail widened. By marker number 7 I had whittled his lead down to 50 feet but there was a Multi in the way. He was cool though, as I announced to him I needed to catch the guy ahead because he was in my class he said "no problem, he's been surging so we'll just have to stick with him. I'll let you around at the next wide spot." He upped his tempo and stayed at a fairly steady interval and as soon as the trail widened he let me pass. I closed on him gradually and then the back markers started to work for me. A woman on a multi had the trail blocked and wasn't the least bit interested in letting us around. At a straight section there wasn't room for a pass, but he went right so I went left and we squeezed by her. I knew I had him. As we exited the by marker 9 jeep road I dropped the hammer and spun it up. By the time I entered the pine tree tunnel I had at least a 100 feet on him. I kept on the gas just in case he was waiting to counter. It didn't happen. At the line I was almost 5 seconds ahead.

All in all it was a good race but if I had to rate my performance I give myself a B-. Here's the breakdown...

Bike handling ... A+
Gearing... A, given my conditioning
Conditioning... C
Focus... B+
Tempo... A

1st lap... 27:42 average HR 161
2nd lap... 27:50 average HR 162
3rd lap... 27:47 average HR 164

Total Official time 1:22:28.3 Total Average HR 162, Max HR 175

...and 10th place.

Time of the first place rider... 1:12:40.7
Rick... 1:12:42.2 and second place
Stuart... 1:15:04.0 and 4th
John... 1:18:06.0 and 6th
Josh... 1:29:44.4 and 14th

After putting on some warm clothes I joined John in rooting for friends and singlespeeders. Fellow BKB and former Sport rider Joel Coon gets my version of the Rube Goldberg Award for his bike. This year he's astride his Slingshot... with last year's thudbuster seatpost, but with a Cannondale Lefty fork. If ever there was a bike that looked like it could turn in 4 directions at once while absorbing every bump this one could do it. He did us proud finishing 7th in Comp SS. John Fang looked solid all race long on his multispeed powering to a 4th in his agegroup and 9th overall! Brett Gave finished 10th in age group despite being on a SS. Jesse and Marco creamed the experts, well most of them anyway, with Jesse finishing 3rd and Marco 6th.

I wondering if I want to try converting the M900 into a 69er and taking a shot at my age group for Lake Geneva.

Too many days without pain

I was jonzin for some saddle time. 50 miles later I feel better. I kept it in a gear that was just a bit harder than I needed and kept the tempo around 90rpm's. No heart monitor, I just had to keep going hard. A nice roll down Hwy T at a solid 37 mph for almost 3 miles made me feel old. Yeah, I should feel good I can go that fast, but I used to not need a tailwind or a slight downhill to hit it that hard. Just gotta keep riding hard.

Images from RCR

Dave


Jesse & Marco


Me in the neon on the left- 6th into the woods


Still me


Dave in the BKB kit


Me showing a multi how to corner.

John Fang

down time

school was the usual BS but it put me in the mood for some sprinting. An hour on the Rig going around the old AmFam lot had the mission accomplished. After hitting the bank I stopped by Trek East Sieeeeeda to have a look at the new Bones RS rack for the Jetta. Two hours later I saw the rack and the new Trek 69er. A sweet sub 24# single speed for $2400. I'll have to finish top 3 in Comp every race to justify buying one. Just before and after the visit I saw and met fellow BKB rider Kitty. I'm not sure where she falls into things but I gathered she works wtih Jesse & Marco at TBSW. I guess I'll get to know her and others as the season progresses.