Tubular Fail: Pictures of Gary's Wheelworks Tubular Gluing Debacle.

I just found these on my camera. When Gary was going through his ongoing ordeal with Wheelworks (Part 1, 2 and 3), he asked me to corraborate his assessment of the shoddiness of the glue jobs that Wheelworks claimed were solid.

Though delayed, here is the photographic evidence:













I wouldn't ride these, let alone race them, you?

The Internet: Cyclingnews.com is Ruined

I just wanted to comment on how terrible cyclingnews.com's new format is. Its jumbled, you can't find a damn thing...

Check out this jumbled mess on the "Fitness" section. Sure, you can figure out what is going on if you take a few minutes, but seriously? The old website was no great shakes, but at least you could navigate it.

I sense a spike in web traffic at Velonews.com and pezcyclingnews.com

Race Report: 17th West Hill Shop Mountain Bike Race--Root 66--2009

My first impression of the course, as shown by Cary:

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I learned a few things this weekend. First and foremost, racing mountain bikes involves far more suffering than criterium racing. Saturday I raced the Twilight Criterium and was able to pull a couple of breaks back, get in a few breaks, bridge to and then sit in a break or two and then give the initial leadout to my riders during the final sprint. 4th and 8th (?) for Kyle and Ryan respectively. I worked hard in this race. But man did I work harder on Sunday.

I had been told that the West Hill Shop Race had some climbs. I had been told that it was hard. Little did I know. Second thing that I learned, when competitive cyclists of all stripes tell you that something is hard, believe them.

Wilcox and I left Cambridge with plenty of time to get to our 2pm start. The Pros and cat 1's were racing before us, so I was hoping that we'd get both a pre-ride and course intelligence from finishers.

It was raining as we drove into VT. They looked like passing showers, but when we got to the dirt roads near the venue (after getting lost when the signs that the promoter told us to follow proved to be flopped over and thereby not visible) we found them to be quite pasty and saturated. Lesson Three: If a mountain bike race promoter tells you that there will be signs, Google map it anyway, the signs are usually useless.

We got to ride the easy part of the course and listen to blown riders tell us that it was hard...and oh, Cary pointed out that my tires that were poorly suited to the course.




Then right before staging, Colin Reuter questioned my low tire pressure (though once he found out that I was running tubeless, he approved). Since I have only the tires that came with the bike, Racing Ralphs it was, tough shit for RMM.

The start was fairly tame. 20-30 dudes in my field (cat 2 30-39), most of them behind me. I was settled at third place,

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fighting hard to keep it. After the hole shot, which was at the end of a 150 meter field, the course had some smooth single track that was slick though tacky. I was feeling good, though I was working quite hard. I eventually came around 2nd place and had the leader in sight. I was near my limit, breathing hard and panicked since we were only 3-5 minutes into an hour and a half race. I considered closing the gap and coming around 1^st too...lost opportunities.

I remained in 2nd with a traffic jam of better bike handlers behind me. I would gap them on the flats and climbs, stay about even in the smooth "S" turns and get caught quickly on the descents and the technical sections. The trails were narrow enough in the middle of the course, that it was difficult to pass. I was riding fast enough that a rider would have to dig deep to get around me, but not fast enough to create a gap big enough to make up for my poor descending and technical skills. It was frustrating to clearly outride people on the climbs and then have them close a 15-30 second gap in less than a minute by just not being pussies. Lesson Four: skill trumps fitness in mtb racing.

My tires were completely compacted with mud within 5 minutes and I was slipping all over the course. Damn you Cary, I probably wouldn't have even noticed if you hadn't pointed it out. Lesson five: tire selection is really important in mountain bike racing.

On the first really fast descent, I missed a corner and went off the course by a few feet. I didn't crash, but I had to unclip a foot and hop back over to the trail. The line of riders stacked up behind me came whooshing by in an evenly spaced line and I had no choice but to wait for each one to pass before I could resume embarrassing myself. I was now in tenth and pissed.

I kept this group in sight. They remained about 30 seconds up the road until the first big climb. The climb was steep. Not so steep that you'd loose traction, but the tacky slickness combined with the roots, left you in danger of slipping out and being forced to dismount. Even on the first lap there were riders walking. I started in my middle ring and locked out my front fork and inefficiently stomped while out of the saddle. This worked well until I realized that this was not a power climb, that the climb wound up much further than it originally appeared to. Lesson Six: PreRide the course.

I made contact with my original group and came around a couple of riders. I was digging quite deep. It was only halfway through the first lap and I was doubting my ability to keep the pace.

I fell in Eric Petterson from Back Bay at the top of the climb. I was in front and flailing in the corners. He graciously pointed out the he had prerode the course and offered to lead. I gladly allowed him to. Minutes later, he announced that a certain descent was a place to go fast. He rode away from me and then yardsaled into the woods after missing a corner.

There were a number of short, technical power climbs. They were rideable, but if you bobbled, you were dismounting and running (read trudging) the remainder, as they offered no place to remount. I saw many riders dismount before these sections. I gamely tried to ride every section, even in the last lap. I was able to pass riders as they walked. Often I'd bobble halfway up, but sometimes I didn't and either way, I got around those competitors. Lesson Seven: try to ride everything, every time.

The final climb is right before the finish line. On a dry day, it would just be a moderately steep, straight dirt climb on a relatively smooth fire road. Today, it was a slippery muddy mess. Most of the time you would have fairly good traction, but then you'd deviate from the packed part and sink into squelchy sucking mud that sapped your momentum.





Then you'd stand to power out and hit an exposed root and your rear wheel would slip out. I was able to remain on the bike, but I was in the little ring and cursing the whole time. Hecklers took thier shots, but I was enclosed in a silent fortress of pain that mere taunts could not penetrate.

I was forced to relent on the second lap. I had overdrawn my account on the two climbs in lap one. In a road race, the peloton would take it easy on the flats, maybe set people up for the climb, in the leadup to it and then suffer up the climb. In this race, I was arriving at the base of the climbs blown and then putting out watts. Unsustainable. Lesson eight: pacing oneself is important.

There were no split times, but I think that I was faster in the second lap. Since I now knew the course, I was more confident in the tech sections and the descents. I recovered on the flats by riding a little below all-out. I still put in efforts on the climbs, attempting to ride everything. I passed a rider or two. On the final climb in the second lap, I seriously considered pulling out. I was struggling to complete the climb and was doubting that I would make it up it even this time, let alone a third. I think the only thing that kept me going was the fact that Cary would make fun of me forever if I did.

The third lap was pure hell. I knew the course, but was spent. Getting out of the saddle to go over a technical section was a chore. I was sloppy.

Near the bottom of the first big climb, a rider from my field came out of nowhere and passed me. I felt like I was at my limit, but I dug in and kept him within spitting distance, getting right on him at the crest. He easily gapped me on the descent, taking crazy risks to hold me off. I stayed off the brakes and kept him in sight.

He took a corner into a mud bog poorly. I didn't see the crash, but I sensed it. I passed him as he sorted out his bike (mechanical failure). I didn't see him until the final climb a few minutes later.

At the base of the final climb, I set a pace that was sustainable. The climb was steep enough and the mud squishy enough that keeping enough momentum to remain upright and moving was difficult. People were cheering. But wait, they were looking through me. They were cheering for the mud bog crasher who was closing on me. I looked back and estimated his speed versus mine and dug for a little more. My left hip flexor and my right inner quad were both threatening to cramp up irreparably. He continued to close as his friend cheered and I struggled.

Once I got over near the crest of the climb, I knew it was over. I wasn't sure how far he was from me, but no matter how blown I am, I have a sprint left. I locked out the fork, got to the big ring and laid it down like I was at the track.

I felt like I won, but the officials thought that I got 5th. The evidence was on their side.

On the other hand, Wilcox won the single speed (out of 2 riders), but got 4th overall out of his starting group (cat 2 19-29) and put 2 minutes into my time.

Photos of an Attack

Croth captured this series of photos at the track last week. The photos illustrate some of the great features of bicycle racing: an attack, a counter attack, a chase group, sitting in on a chase, and the results (the finish line is just outside of the frame in the last photo).

One of the great things about track racing is that the strageties and patterns that take hours to play out in a road race and tens of minutes in a criterium, play out in mere minutes and seconds on the track. There is no time to think, there is barely time to act.

Dan Butler is the rider in Blue, Brooke O' Connor is the female in red who bridges to Dan, I am the CB black and white kit on the red bike, Nick Machburn is my teammate in B and W on the ivory bike, Colin H. Murphy is my good friend (though he is not acting like it in this race) in the yellow kit, and the two red kitted riders are Jay Francis and Barry Greenburg.

Instead of telling you the story in words, I will allow you to interpret the photos.

Cyclocross in August?

The Accelerated Cure Series has posted thier dates for the 2009 season. The series has expanded to 4 races, 2 of them in August. You may remember the first race in this series last year was in August, Blunt Park. I raced Blunt Park last year and enjoyed it. My 5th place result, combined with my OK results at the other 2 races in the series allowed me to place 3rd in the series, yeilding about $80 and untold glory.

I am posting, not to promote the series, but to ask a question: Is mid-August too early for cyclocross? I am wondering if the sweet pain that is cyclocross is diluting itself by overspreading its traditional season. Deep thinker and cycling philosopher PVB has been heard saying that New England cyclocross begins with Suckerbrook in mid-September. What do you think?

I should clarify that I am not chastizing the organizers of this great local series. In order to successfully put on a cross race in New England, you must tip toe around the increasingly demanding Verge schedule which will balloon to 12 races in 2009. Considering that there are other well established regional races (Canton Cup, Suckerbrook) to contend with as well, this leaves precious little time on the race calendar to introduce a new race, let alone a series.

Part of me wants to race these August races because the diluted fields allow hacks like me to pull down decent results (and I was able to beat Bailey at Blunt Park). The other half of me wants to shun these races since they are bleeding outside of the traditional boundries of the cyclocross season. No one would put on a road race in mid November and if they did, none of us would show up.

Rosey has come down in favor of these race, Holmes taunted me last year when I opted to attend Blunt Park instead of getting thrashed on the 6 gaps ride, Yash raced with me in 2008, the little woman just likes bike racing and PVB is clearly against these dates. I am curious what everyone else thinks.

Boston Velodrome: Fill Out the Survey Please.

Perhaps you have already filled out the survey, if so, you can move on to the next blog.  

If not, below is a link to a survey that is part of a feasibility study concerning the construction of a national level indoor velodrome and full service cycling center in the Boston area.  

Even if you don't race track and don't plan to, this would be a great asset to the competitive cycling community.  All you have to do is fill out the survey so that the developer can assure the investors that the center will make money.   Easy, right?

Survey

Race Report: Connecticut Stage Race 2009

Our Cat 3 squad decided to represent at the first annual CT Stage Race.  The stages were, 1^st a 8 mile ITT on Saturday morning, 2^nd a 24  mile circuit race later Saturday afternoon and a 91 mile Road Race on Sunday.  The race was scored based on accumulated time and there were no time bonuses for sprints or stage wins. 

We came deep:  Kyler, Spaits, Jordan, Cary, Jackson, The Filthy Rosenberg and of course myself.  Our plan was to each perform as well as we could in the TT and then make a team strategy for the circuit and the road race based on who we had in the GC and how close they were to the leader.

Our car left Cambridge too late.  An hour before my start, I was in the front seat of Jordan’s car, kitting up.  I had the first TT start out of the CB riders and we arrived about 35 minutes before my start.  Riders who were going off an hour after me were already on trainers and sweating when we exploded from the station wagon in a whirlwind of panic, carbon and lycra.  Excuse number one for my crappy results: 15 minute warmup.

Excuse number 2: I didn’t bother with aero bars.  Excuse number 3: I didn’t have a PowerTap to monitor my power output. 

I was about 50^th in the TT.  Jackson was 10^th and less than a minute off of the leader.  The rest of us fell in between.  Since there were no time bonuses offered for the circuit race finish our team plan was to sit in.  We didn’t feel like we could get Jackson far enough up the road to make a significant dent in the leader’s gap.  Kyler was gunning for the stage win.  The circuit was fast with 4 corners and a couple of grinding hills. 

Jackson’s Sarah, had a car accident while driving somewhere between the stages.  Her airbags deployed and she was taken to the hospital in an ambulance.  We figured that Jackson was out of the race, since he was being a good boyfriend and attending her in the hospital.  On the starting line of the race, we started replanning, since we figured that our GC guy had to drop out. 

With less than 15 minutes to go, Jackson rolled up to the start line and was promptly and roundly balled out for not having his frame number attached.  A brief recount of his afternoon elicited no sympathy from the official.  This was to become a theme for the rest of the race. 

The pace was fairly low, since most other teams seemed to have the same plan as us, sit in and wait for the road race.  A few small breaks shook free, me in one, Spaits in another, but nothing committed.  In fact, we may have gotten in splits, but we didn’t really work once there, since we were saving ourselves for the intimidating 91 mile stage that went off in 18 hours.

Cary led Kyle out and he got 3^rd.  We are confident if we had put another rider in front of Kyler that he would have won the stage, which is what we should have done.

We all ate heartily after the stage and were in bed by 10.  We awoke rested, though I was dehydrated (Excuse number 4).  We had huge breakfasts and kitted up at the hotel.  Coffee was a problem, since CT diner coffee does not pack the punch that Cambridge French press or espresso does.  The lack of caffeine made me feel flat (Excuse number 5). 

Even though we had lots of time before our 11 am start, I had  last minute panic when my valve on my front tubular became stuck down inside the valve extender about 25 minutes before our start.  Since the Challenge tubular uses a latex tube, it had deflated to around 80 psi overnight, which is too low to race on.  I had no spare wheel.  I spent 10 feverish minutes sweating in the sun trying to fix it.  Finally Spaits had me remove the valve extender and use it to unscrew the valve, which worked surprisingly well.  Thanks Spaits (excuse number 6 averted).

The pace was slow rolling out, punctuated by attacks.  A Cadence rider kept chasing everything down, which caused the peloton to accelerate.  Riders were grumbling about “Can’t we agree to let a group go, since there are 85 miles left, they aren’t staying away?”  But none were allowed to go and we all were forced to put in efforts and burn little matches.  Josh was animating the front of the race, flying the colors and trying to get into breaks. 

There were no decisive hills, only rollers and long grinding hills little more than false flats.  The pack stayed together over everything for the first 40 miles.  The attacks stopped after about mile 30 when everyone realized that they would be chased down. 

The first feed zone between 40 and 50 miles.  It was located on a flattish stretch of road with a wide shoulder.  The peloton exploded into chaos at the sight of the oasis.  I was near the front and I was swarmed by riders jostling for their food.  I ended up having to sprint out into the front so that I could get our bag.  Sarah, the day after her car accident, was dutifully holding our feed near the end of the feed zone.  I almost stacked it trying to get the strap of the mussette over my head. 

After the feed is a long desolate highway with wide shoulders and some flora.  I had publically spoken to the race leader on the start line about having him agree to call a nature break somewhere in the middle of the race.  I had mentioned this to the race official and she said nothing.  Well wooded, no houses, desolate, this seemed like a good spot to answer the call of nature.  I went to the front of the field and began building support for a nature break, kibitzing with the race leader.  It took us about ½ a kilo to slow down as everyone was nervous that a group of people would ride away and take a few minutes out of us as we relieved ourselves.  Finally we all stopped and pulled out our junk.  Unfortunately, the cars that had been backed up behind us were allowed to pass.  So our nature break was more public than had originally been planned.  The peloton was good about waiting for everyone to get done before rolling. 

The pace stayed low.  An Adler rider attacked decisively on a multi kilo false flat.  Within a few minutes, he was out of sight.  While I was confident that he wasn’t going hold us off for 45 miles, I also was uncomfortable with how slowly we were going up the “climb.”  Since we had the biggest team, I got on the front and rode tempo in order to keep the break on a reasonable leash.  No one else seemed willing to work, so I stayed up front all the way up the false flat, allowing others to pull, but doing more than my share of the work (excuse 7). 

Jackson asked me for a bottle.  I had two left and knew that I needed them to finish the race.  Since Jackson was in line for a big result, I handed it over without question (excuse 8).

After rolling through the staging at mile 50ish the pace picked up.  I found myself chasing after feeling dead on a short climb.  I thought that my race was over.  But Cort Cramer came by me and I hopped on his wheel, digging fairly deep to hold on.  By the time we were within 100 meters, I had recovered enough to pull us the rest of the way.  I rode straight to the front, knowing that I was going to struggle again.

Sure enough, I was dropped again on the next short climb.  Again, Cort came up from behind we had a hair raising chase through the follow vehicles, weaving in and out, catching drafts where possible. 

A light rain fell, coating the pavement.  Steam and fog clung to the road obscuring the longitudinal cracks and huge pot holes.

My race ended on a sketchy descent.  I started near the front but lacked the balls to rail into corners on the rough pavement.  I couldn’t see the ground and I was freaked out.  On the previous time through here, my PowerTap computer flew off and shattered. 

Literally, I watched the peloton ride away from me on a descent.  I worked with Cort and others to chase back on, but gave up around mile 75. 

The peloton dangled out in front for a few miles and I got closer.  Along the way, it grew hot and I ran out of water.  I started cramping and had to give up.  The last 10 miles of the race was the most painful experience that I have had on a bicycle.  I was dehydrated and alone.  I rode in alone and broken. 

David Chui came up behind me with 1 or 2 miles to go.  We rode in together.  At the finish our respective teammates started cheering for a sprint.  Neither of us accelerated, but we did throw our bikes at the line.  

Meanwhile the rest of the peloton stayed together since there were no decisive sections to launch a break or create a split. 

Jackson won the sprint.  Well actually, A Harvard rider won the sprint after attacking over the yellow line multiple times.  The official had personally warned him.  Despite that, he attacked over the yellow line again.  Despite his protests, Harvard was DQ’ed out of first.  Hopefully, dude learns his lesson, since he is a noted yellow line violator.  Either way, Jackson gets a well earned stage win. 

While I sat on the grass shaking, our official came over and asked the group of cat 3’s “who called the nature break?”  I didn’t hesitate to accept responsibility and the tongue lashing that followed.  The official told me that I could have found a more appropriate spot for the stop.  I pointed out that I didn’t know the course and that she had a chance to tell us where to stop while we were planning the stop on the start line.  Strangely, as the official and I were discussing the issue, more than one rider came by to thank me for calling it.  I sheepishly accepted the thanks while simultaneously accepting the official’s criticism, all the while, I had only been off the bike for 5 minutes after killing myself jut to ride in.  Surreal. 

This was a good race.  The only thing that could have improved the race would be time bonuses for stage placings.  This would animate the circuit race and make people more willing to take risks in the road race.  As it stood without the time bonuses, the GC was decided largely by the TT.  All the race leader needed to do to win after the TT was sit on for the other two stages and have his team prevent a break from putting multiple minutes into him.   As for the sprints, he just needed to maintain contact with the main group so that he would be given the same time.

While we weren’t able to move Jackson up too much on the GC, we did a great job of working the stage wins.  If we could do it over, I would suggest that we could have sacrificed another rider in the circuit race in order to take the stage.