THE CLAW - a reality check

I had a fun if somewhat unsuccessful stage race in Enumclaw aka "The Claw".  This race has been around for a long time, but this year was the first time it was being run as a stage race rather than an omnium.  In an omnium, riders receive points based on their placing for each stage and the rider with the most points at the end of all the stages wins.  In a stage race, the overall winner is the rider who finishes all of the stages in the least total amount of time.  Stage races favor time trailists and climbers.  TT's and mountaintop finishes generate the biggest time gaps between racers since drafting is taken out of the equation.  I was stoked about the switch from omnium to stage race given my recent Coburg TT results.  I was hoping to put time into my competitors in the TT, and then do my best to finish with the same time as the winners of the crit and road race, resulting in a solid overall placing.  That was the plan anyway.

The first stage was the TT.  I arrived at the course somewhat late and spent several minutes struggling to get my power meter working.  I finally managed to fix it and got a bit of a trainer warmup, only to break the valve extender on my new super deep aero front wheel right before my start requiring a frantic wheel change.  I fortunately didn't miss my start time, sprinted out of the gate, and felt pretty good during the first leg of the TT. After the first turn, the course got pretty twisty and I found myself having to look up quite a bit to avoid crashing.  Looking up in a TT annoys me because I really have to strain to do so and it totally screws up my aero tuck.  Despite all of the craning of my neck, I kept the watts high and kept my effort steady up the short climb on the course.  I eventually reached what I thought was the final stretch of road and began wondering where the hell the finish line was.  I passed a couple of people on the side of the road who I thought might be race officials in my TT-induced delirium.  I sat up after passing them, and then noticed a corner marshal who was gesturing that I needed to turn onto another road.  I made the turn, saw the real finish line, and made a sprint for it, pissed that I had lost a few seconds because of my confusion.  I didn't come close to vomiting during the ride and was therefore disappointed with my performance, until I looked at my power data which was actually solid.  Sure enough, when the results came out I was happy to have taken 3rd in the TT, missing 2nd place by only one freakin' second.

Next up was the crit.  Bourcier had warned me ahead of time about the technical nature of the course, and he wasn't kidding.  There were 8 corners and each one of them had crosswalk paint, manhole covers and sewer grates galore.  On top of that, there were a few potholes and gobs of rough pavement.  I got to line up in front because they called up the GC leaders at the start, but once the race began I was quickly shouldered aside by more aggressive riders and ended up near the back of the pack on the first lap.  The pace was high from the start and never let up, making it pretty hard to move up especially since the straightaways were fairly short.  About 15 minutes in to the race, the rain began.  A few drops here and there rapidly turned in to an all-out downpour and the course went from "technical" to "dangerous" in my opinion.  Not surprisingly, there were several big pileups as riders lost traction on the numerous ice-like paint and metal features in the corners.  As the course got progressively wetter and more slippery, the field became even more strung out and my position remained just as crappy near the back.  Eventually the rider in front of me lost the wheel in front of him, and I was unable to come around and close the gap.  It turned into another TT for me, only this time much more miserable and sketchy.  When it was all said and done, I had lost 40 seconds and dropped to 12th on GC.  As if to drive home the insanity of the course, a rider crashed in the warm down lap as we were all rolling around the course at an easy pace.

After the crit, Lisa and I took advantage of a coupon that we found at race registration for a free buffet dinner at the nearby Muckleshoot casino.  Of course there was the usual broad selection of greasy stuff, but there was also a limitless bounty of smoked salmon, shrimp, and crab legs.  With some bread and veggies, we had a fantastic dinner and were stupefied by the fact that we didn't see any other bike racers there.  We went back to our hotel and slept well with full bellies.

 Mmmmmm crab legs!

With Sunday came the road race.  The weather had not improved much since the crit so I piled on the layers.  We got underway, and shortly after the neutral roll out ended, I noticed that my bike was feeling a bit more cushy than normal.  As I feared, a minute later my rear tire had gone totally flat and I pulled to the side of the road for a wheel change. The car pulled right up and the change was quick, but the field had still pulled pretty far away.  I got back on the bike and began a frantic chase.  I probably would not have made it, but I was able to draft behind the wheel car, and then the official car once I got reasonably close to the pack.  Once I was back in the fold, I realized that it wasn't going to be a good day for me.  I was pretty exhausted from the few minute chase after my flat, and was having trouble moving up through the strung out field of riders.  I started feeling even worse when we hit the climb. The hill on the course is pretty similar to McBeth.  It starts off steep, then levels off, then gets steep again.  I felt like crap on all of the steep bits, and didn't feel much better on the more gradual parts.  It was nothing like Cherry Blossom or even Silverton where I have been able to use the climbs to move up through the pack.  I was hanging on for dear life every time up that damn thing.  I managed to stay in the fold until the 3rd time up.  The strong guys at the front really turned the screws that time and the field shattered into 3 different groups.  I was in the 3rd one.  I was somewhat reassured that I didn't totally suck when I saw the skinny climber kid from Cherry Blossom ride up next to me on the climb.  He and I began working to bridge up to the second group on the road, trading pulls. Unfortunately, he was able to summon up a final kick at the summit and join them, while I just didn't have the horsepower to do the same.  I dangled in no-man's land for a while and was shortly caught by the group behind me.
 



We got a hard rotating paceline going, but we simply could not close the gap.  We had the lead group within sight for the first half of the final lap, but they eventually pulled away when we approached the climb for the final time.  Everyone was pretty dejected, and to add insult to injury, it began pouring rain on us at the top of the climb.  We kept a decent tempo going, and rolled across the finish line several minutes after the lead group.

Overall, this race was a bit of a reality check for me.  Sure I can TT pretty well for a cat 3, but I am certainly not a fantastic crit rider or climber.  I guess it is good to know what I need to work on to be a better all around road racer.  Then again, if the weather ever improves I think I would like to start spending a lot more time on my mountain bike.  The creampuff is coming up soon.  Enough of this road bike stuff.  I really need to get in some epic MTB rides!

A weekend in the dirt: Eugene Roubaix and Mudslinger MTB

This weekend I decided to take advantage of my seemingly good form and resolved to race on both Saturday and Sunday.  Both races would be dirty ones: Saturday's Eugene Roubaix is a road race that features a stretch of gravel road, and Sunday's Mudslinger promised to live up to its billing as a particularly muddy mountain bike race with all of the "liquid sunshine" we have been enjoying this spring.

I have helped put on Eugene Roubaix for the past few years and I always wanted to be fit enough to race it.  Since I am actually riding well this year I was stoked to make a serious effort at winning the race I had been involved in since its inception.  I even bought special Schwalbe tires for the event with extra volume and reinforced sidewalls to help combat gravel induced punctures.  Since it was a local race, I got all lycra-ed up at home and rode my bike out to the course.

I lined up for the start and noticed that the Pacific Power team was again out in force amassed at the front of the field, no doubt as part of a plan to control the race from the beginning.  Unfortunately for me, they were somewhat successful this time.  From the gun, one Pacific Power and one Life Cycle rider went on the attack.  The gap began to grow alarmingly so I went to the front to keep my eye on it.  I decided that it was too early in the race for a break to succeed and put in some hard pulls to reel the escapees back in rather than attempting to bridge the gap and join them.  Soon after they were caught, another P.P. guy went for it, and this time I jumped on his wheel to join him.  The field was having none of it, however, and we got no more than a few bike lengths of a gap before giving up and slowing down.  This pattern essentially went on for the rest of the race.  The only move I went with that I felt had any chance of success was an attack I put in on Crow Rd. to bridge up to a couple of guys that had gotten about 50 yards ahead of the pack.  One of the stronger P.P. riders went with me and was keen on working to make the break stick.  We reached the pair that was up the road and continued working together trying to stay away.  It only lasted for a couple of minutes, however.  There must have some pretty strong or at least fresh guys still in the pack, because they reeled us in disappointingly quickly.

 Riding through the gravel.  Photo by Lou Swing.

I put in a couple more attacks on the last lap, but didn't have enough power to stay away from the field alone.  I realized that my last chance to make a move would be on the gravel section immediately prior to the finish.  Going in to the gravel, things got pretty sketchy as everyone attempted to move to the front of the pack.  At the start of the gravel, I was about 10 riders from the front, which was too far back in my estimation.  A couple of wheels in front of me a strong Bend Bike and Sport rider pulled out in to the rougher part of the gravel and accelerated to the front of the pack.  I liked the looks of his move and did the same.  He had a small gap at the front, and I pulled in right behind him.  That is where I stayed until the end of the gravel, thinking I could come around him and sprint to victory at the line.  In hindsight, I should have pulled to the left again in the gravel and put in an attack to get a gap on the field.  Maybe I'll try that next year.  This time, I was second wheel, right behind Mr. B. B. and S. coming off the gravel on to the pavement 200 meters from the finish line.  I tried to sprint for it, but got passed by 3 riders before I crossed the line in 5th place. 

It was a decent result, and I know what I need to work on to do better next time: my short explosive power.  If I could produce stronger accelerations I could generate bigger gaps when attacking and have more success getting away from the field.  I could also have a chance in sprint finishes like the one in Roubaix this year.

In other news, my friend and teammate Matt Baumann put on a spectacular show in the Cat. 3 race, staying off the front of his field for almost a full lap before being joined by two riders in the break.  He killed it on the front through the gravel the final time and got 2nd in the sprint at the finish.  Way to go Mateo!

After Roubaix I went home, donned the recovery stockings, and prepared for my early departure for the Mudslinger MTB race the following morning.  Todd Gardner built me an amazing mountain bike this winter and I was eager to race it.  I fitted some mud-appropriate tires, generously lubed the chain, and declared my steed ready for racing.  Unfortunately all of my Paul's team kit was stankified, so I was going to be racing incognito in an old (and now baggy) Midtown Racing kit.

My beautiful bicycle.  Todd can build one for you too!

I arrived in Blodgett the next morning, registered for the race, warmed up, and rolled down with the massive pack of MTB riders to the start line.  I sort of did a MTB race once before, but it was before I had ever raced a bicycle and had no idea what I was in for.  I ended up just riding (not racing) the course keeping Lisa (who had never even considered racing a bicycle before that day) company.  There were thunderstorms and my bike broke multiple times.  I finished, but was DFL.  I lined up knowing that despite all that could go wrong in this race, it couldn't possibly go worse for me than my previous attempt at racing in the dirt.

When the race got underway the organizers sent us off in waves with our respective categories, which finally made clear who we were racing against after the chaos of the start line.

Photo by Oregon Velo I'm near the road sign in the red and black kit.

The race began with a long gravel road climb.  It felt like a road race as we were all bunched up in a peloton on the road.  After Roubaix on Saturday, Baumann told me that I would like MTB racing because it was like a TT and I generally do alright at those.  Matt's words were echoing in my head early on the climb and I realized that I wasn't riding anywhere near my TT pace in the pack.  I pulled up to the front of the field and cranked it up to the intensity I would be at had I been hunched over in a skinsuit and aero helmet.  This was enough to separate me from the pack.  Since no one was following me, I got a little worried that I was doing something stupid that was due to my inexperience at this discipline.  The knowledge that I couldn't possibly do worse than the last time I attempted a MTB race encouraged me to press on, however, despite the possibility that my strategy was flawed.

On the gravel climbs, I managed to work my through the shrapnel of dropped riders from the Cat 1 women and singlespeed fields.  Once I got on the singletrack, however, I stopped passing people with regularity.  I was a bit sketched out by the muddy conditions and almost crashed a few times.  There were a couple of doubletrack stretches with very deep waterbars cut in them that caused me to bottom out my fork and almost go over the bars on multiple occasions.  I came to a horrifying realization: I am becoming a freakin' roadie!  I've been spending way too much time on the pavement and not enough time in the dirt honing my bike handling skills.  Something must be done about this....

This was one of the less muddy parts of the course.  Photo by Oregon Velo

Eventually I was passed on the singletrack by a rider who I thought was in my category.  He was also pretty fast on the climbs and I lost sight of him after a few miles.  I continued going all out since 2nd place would still be pretty sweet and I really wanted to hold on to it.  I didn't get passed again until the final stretch of singletrack on the course which also turned out to be the most muddy.  I clumsily made my down the trail with one foot unclipped and heard a rider coming up behind me.  It turned out to be not one, but two guys who came around me just as we emerged from the trail on to the gravel road that led to the finish line.  One of the guys accelerated violently on the slightly downhill road, and I jumped into his draft.  I don't think he noticed me back there.  I rested up for a little bit, and then sprinted around him, getting enough of a gap so that he wasn't in my draft.  I got as aero as one can get on a mountain bike, and hammered all the way to the final climb to the finish line.  I emptied the gas tank on the climb, all the while expecting one of my chasers to sprint around me.  It never happened, though and I held my position across the line.  

The organizers provided free post-race spaghetti and bread to the racers, which was incredibly awesome.  I hung out and ate my noodles and wandered over to the results board.  To my surprise, it turned out that I had actually won my category!  The one rider who had passed me was from the category that started immediately after ours.  After the race I stuck around for the awards ceremony and raffle.  I have to say that the post race atmosphere and activities were way more cool than at any road race I have taken part in.  I think roadies could learn a lot about having fun from the mountain bike crowd. 

Hooray! only 4 seconds away from Double Hooray!

Unlike all previous stages, I would actually had to get up early for Sunday's decisive time trial.  I spent Saturday night in frantic preparation for the race.  I was only 18 seconds away from the race lead and felt like it was within reach if I had a strong TT.  To have a shot, I knew I would have to pull out all the stops: I attached a plastic cover to my rear wheel for maximum aerodynamics, tinkered with the power meter on my TT bike so that it would work in every gear combination, and of course gave my legs a fresh shave.  I got everything ready that night and still had time to get 8 hours or sleep, but only just barely.  Thankfully sleep came easily thanks to the intensity of the circuit race that day.

I woke up feeling pretty good on Sunday morning.  After a delicious breakfast of oats and bananas, I loaded up all my time trial gadgetry and headed down to the course.  Once I got there and got my bike set up on the trainer for warm up, I got a little concerned.  My legs (aka the TWIN TOWERS) felt fine while spinning easily, but winding up to anywhere near TT wattage was pretty agonizing.  I could really feel the effects of the previous day's efforts.  Despite my misgivings I strapped on my futuristic "Spaceballs"-looking TT helmet and rode down to the start line.

In most stage races, riders start time trials at 30 second intervals in reverse order of GC.  The top placed riders have the advantage of those below them in the standings being out on the road in front, serving as rabbits to chase.  I was reasonably confident that I could ride fast enough to hang on to 3rd, but was worried about the rider just below me on GC.  He was a rather strapping fellow on who had crossed the line solo on Saturday, just over 30 seconds behind me.  The fact that he was strong enough to make his way through the last lap of Saturday's course by himself and only lost 30 seconds to the 3 of us suggested he had some good time trial power.  He was also on the Lenovo team out of Seattle, which contains many very fast category 1/2 riders.  On top of all that, he had even faster looking TT gear than mine.  I was seriously concerned that he would beat me by over 30 seconds in the TT and steal my place on the podium.  Since he was starting 30 seconds in front of me, I resolved to keep him within sight during the race and pass him if at all possible.  I felt that if I could achieve that goal I wouldn't need to worry about the two riders who were starting behind me.

I watched the Lenovo guy take off and lined up for my start.  I got clipped in, took a few deep breaths, and sprinted out of the gate.  Once I settled down in to the aero bars, I looked at the power meter and noticed that I was doing well over 400 watts (that is a lot of watts for me).  Last year, my best Coburg TT was around 345 average watts.  I knew that the out-and-back course was uphill on the first leg.  Since the uphill portion would be the slowest, I knew that it would pay off to go out a little bit too hard for the first half even if I suffered and was able to do fewer watts for the trip back down hill.  To my surprise, I found that holding over 400 watts was no problem for a lot of the climb.  I've averaged 389 up McBeth on the ghetto ride so I guess it wasn't too much of a stretch, but I was still shocked that I was able to go so hard for so long.  I think it must have been the adrenaline rush of being in a race because I really didn't feel any of the sluggishness that had plagued my warmup.  Before long, the wattage output paid off.  Within 5 minutes I was rapidly closing on the strapping Lenovo guy.  I slowed down a touch for a few seconds, and then cranked it up and blew past him.  It always pays to demoralize your TT competition by passing them at an elevated rate of speed.  I managed not to overcook it during the pass and held my pace until the turn around point.

At the turn around, I was able to see my chasers coming at me and noted that I had put a fair bit of time into Lenovo guy, but that the dude just ahead of me on GC was still fairly close behind.  There was no room to slack off on the way back down the grade.  I kept the watts high and my speed went way up with the slight downhill.  My time trial position is very aero with the unfortunate consequence of me not being able to see where I am going.  This caused a few terrifying moments because I really didn't remember the course being that curvy on the way up.  I actually had to get out of the aero bars and hit the brakes at one point to avoid a head on collision with a rider coming up in the opposite lane.  I managed to not crash, passed a few more riders, and accelerated for the finish despite the lack of a 1k to go sign.

On the way back to the staging area, I chatted with Phil (the Lenovo guy) who turned out to be a very nice dude.  He told me that he had never been passed like that in a time trial which made me feel pretty good about my ride.  I got back to the car and hung out while Lisa did her "race of truth", all the while wondering whether I had been fast enough to move up on GC.

My uncertainty lasted until I ventured downtown for the final stage of the race, the criterium.  It took some searching, but I finally found the time trial results.

I found the sheet for cat 4 men, and was elated!

Then I looked more closely at my margin of victory and looked down at the GC rankings following the TT.

NOOOOOO!!!!!  4 FREAKING SECONDS!!!!!!  If only I had not had to hit the brakes!!  If only I knew the finish was coming sooner and exhausted myself more completely!!  As always, I feel like I could have gone a little bit harder now that the race is in the books.  In truth though, I had a great ride in the TT and probably could not have gone any faster.  I decided to be happy with my victory and to see what the crit would bring.  Perhaps I could attack and get more than 4 seconds on the field... I've done it before in a crit...

I joined the throng of riders at the start line before the criterium and got called up to be recognized at the front for my GC placing, which was pretty cool.  Then the race got underway and the suffering began.  The pace seemed extremely high.  Either that, or I was extremely out of gas.  I am pretty sure both were true.  After a few laps I realized that there was no way I was going to get away from the field in my state of exhaustion.  I went in to survival mode and adopted the alternate goals of not crashing or getting shelled.  Fortunately for me, the crit was very short and I made it through to finish with the same time as the winner. 

 Not my field but similar.  You get the idea.

Travis Monroe, the skinny 15 year old from stage 2, won a boatload of primes in the race.  He is going to be a beast once he grows up and gets some meat on his bones.  I wouldn't be surprised to hear about him joining the pros one day.

Also impressive was the fact that the GC leader, Rusty Dodge sprinted to victory in the criterium.  That guy is one hell of an athlete.

After the crit I got to enjoy the podium ceremony for the time trial.  Climbing on to the top step was quite a thrill.  I have to hand it to the race organizers for allowing us rank amateurs to have a podium.  That kind of recognition made all of my lonely suffering on Wolf Creek Rd. this winter worth it.  Here is a shot of the TT podium (warning: skinsuit content)

And here is a shot of the top 5 on GC at the conclusion of the Cherry Blossom Classic.

I had the opportunity to chat with the winner a bit over the course of the weekend.  His name is Rusty Dodge and he is from Bellingham, WA.  I am alright being runner up to him for the following reasons:

1: He has one of the coolest names ever.  It is in the same league as Rip Torn and Red Fox.
2: He is a more well rounded rider than I am.  Sure I have the edge in time trialing, but he came damn close to me in the TT and won two field sprints as well.
3: He is a really nice guy.


After the podium my race weekend was officially over.  No more anti-embolism stockings and paranoia about eating the right things for recovery and hydration... at least not for a day or two.  After getting Lisa squared away for her race I went into relaxation mode.  It was a blast hanging out in the beer garden and watching the really fast people race in the pro/1/2 fields.  The knowledge that I had worked hard and had a successful stage race made the beer taste extra delicious. 

Hopefully the beers after the Cascade Cream Puff 100 this year will be just as tasty!

Podium!

After a night of restless sleep I woke up today to the sound of howling winds buffeting our host house.  I looked outside and noticed a few raindrops on the window.  The day was shaping up to be epic from the get go.  Thankfully the rain went away, but the wind kept on blowing with a vengeance.  We eventually found our way to the start, despite some slightly confusing directions in the race packet, and lined up to start.

I overheard multiple riders who had already finished their races talking about how hard the course was, and started to get nervous.  I decided that it would be crucial to remain near the front of the race because it sounded like every previous field had completely exploded, with riders trickling in to the finish in small groups.  Time gaps affecting GC were a certainty.

Today the race got hard from the gun.  On the first climb I made my way to the front where the GC leader was setting a hard tempo.  I was already suffering and hoped that the pace would be hard enough to split the field since I really didn't want to have a replay of yesterday where the large crowd contributed to the catastrophic crash.  I decided to contribute to making us all suffer and willingly took hard pulls.  Our efforts on the hills and in the wind quickly paid off.  We had whittled the lead pack down to about 15 riders on the first of our 7 laps. 

Things didn't get any easier once we had the break established.  We continued to kill it, and our pack got smaller and smaller.  The course was such that if you weren't climbing a hill, you were fighting an insane head or cross wind.  There was not anywhere to recover out there.  I was suffering so badly that I had no idea how many laps we had remaining until we heard the bell signaling 1 lap to go.

On the final lap, the race leader went to the front on the feed zone climb and set an even harder tempo than normal.  Behind him was a skinny 15 year old kid who can climb like a scared cat, one random dude behind the skinny kid, and then me.  Abruptly, the dude in front of me decided he had had enough of the pace being set, sat up and veered to the left, almost colliding with me.  This had the effect of opening a few bike length gap to the skinny kid and the GC leader.  They kept hammering and I immediately realized that this would probably be the winning move.  I gritted my teeth, accelerated from the already painful pace and tried to close the gap.  It took me at least a minute, but I finally made my way up to them.  Fortunately, I didn't bring anyone with me.  I had to sit in for a while after bridging up because I was so spent.  I eventually started taking pulls with them, but it became clear that they had a lot more left than I did.

Finally, we turned on to the final climb that was 300 meters from the finish line.  My two companions began to sprint, and I was instantly popped.  What followed was what seemed like the longest 200 meters I have ever traveled on a bicycle.  I actually had to shift in to my lowest gear to make it across the line because of the combination of climb and headwind.  I lost 18 seconds to the kid that won, but still put 30 seconds in to the guy that got 4th on the stage. 

Getting 3rd on the stage put me in to 3rd on GC, which meant I actually got to spend some time on the podium for the first time in my life.  I won a somewhat effeminate tote bag decorated with a cherry motif that was stuffed full of nature valley granola bars and other treats.  The 15 year old that won the stage donated his prize bottle of wine to me for legal reasons, which is pretty cool.

Tomorrow will bring the time trial and crit.  I am really wondering how the two guys in front of me are in the race against the clock.

Cherry Blossom: Stage 1

Today was the first stage of my first stage race in several years - the Cherry Blossom Classic.  This is only the second time it has been put on, so I am not sure how it is already a "classic", but I suppose that isn't important.  Anyway, my cat. 4 field was more than full with 78 competitors, so I was a touch concerned with the prospect of gobs of semi to uber sketchy riders packed tightly across the road like sardines.  It turns out that my concern was warranted.

After rolling out of the parking lot, the pace stayed conversational for a few miles before the guys at the front decided to pick it up on a few rollers.  There is a team called "Ten Guys Named Alex", and their riders always seem to be at the front pulling during races this year.  As usual, they seemed content to tow the field around for the first circuit of the course.  I stayed tucked in behind a heavily muscled Life Cycle guy who won King's Valley since I figured his would be a good wheel on the climb.  When we did hit the long climb the pace picked up nicely and I ended up abandoning Mr. Life Cycle and weaseled my way up through the pack, which was finally beginning to string out.  I slotted in around 4th wheel at the summit and we began the descent.  Shortly afterward, a couple of Hagens Berman guys came up beside us and squeezed into the line of riders.  These two HB fellows then proceeded to rub bars and shoulders with each other and it quickly became apparent to me (I was 2 wheels behind them in the line) that they were going down.  Sure enough, CRUNCH - down they went effectively blocking the entire lane of the road.  Perhaps because I saw it coming it seemed like the crash happened in Matrix-style slow motion and I managed to steer my way around the carnage.  I sprinted back up to the leaders and we kept riding along.  A few miles later I realized two things:
1. We were going much faster than on the first lap
2. There were only about 15 of us

I felt a bit cheesy being in a breakaway that was caused by a crash, but wasn't about to sit up and rejoin the field because of it.  We ended up getting a decent rotating paceline going, although it was nowhere near as fast as ghetto ride pacelines.  We kept the pace high around the rest of the course, and went quite hard up the climb the second time which popped a few people out the back.  I crested the climb at the front and the descent went smoothly.  I was at the front with 1 k to go, which was apparently when both lanes of the road became open to us because a big load of riders came around me in the left lane.  I realized that I wasn't going to contend for the sprint and stayed tucked in and rolled across the line in 10th, happy to have finished with the same time as the winner.

I hung around the line to wait for the field to finish, and was pretty surprised when they didn't come in until over 3 minutes after us.  It turns out that the crash got much worse after I darted around it and lots of guys went down.  There were stories of broken frames and taco-ed carbon wheels, and apparently at least one guy went to the hospital.  I snapped a couple of pictures what I think was aftermath of the crash, a Hagens Berman Ridley with a front wheel with fewer spokes than the new Rolf TT models:

Something is not quite right with this bike...

 Ummmm thats probably not fixable with a few turns of a spoke wrench

I am really hoping I don't get caught behind a crash tomorrow.  I'm learning that there is quite a bit of luck involved in bike racing.  Had I been a little closer or a little further away from the first guys that crashed, I would have either went down or at least have missed the winning break.  Provided things go alright tomorrow, I like my chances on GC with the time trial coming up.

A late King's Valley / Icebreaker Crit race report. Or: MY FIRST WIN!!

Two weekends ago I doubled up on bike races: the King's Valley Road Race near Corvallis on Saturday, and the Icebreaker Criterium in west Eugene on Sunday.  I had attempted King's Valley twice before, and on both occasions was dropped handily on the longest hill on the course.  I am much more fit now than in previous years, so I decided it was time to give it another go.

No one took any photos of my field. Here is what Google came up with.

After the customary early departure, we arrived in the staging area, which was quite frigid with a gusty cold wind blowing through.  I was looking forward to getting the race going so I could warm up.  Once the race was underway a couple of guys attacked during the first lap but no one seemed at all interested in joining them and working so they always came back in to the fold quickly.  I think all the rollers kept the field from getting complacent since the pace was fairly consistently high whenever the road pitched up.  This also discouraged would be attackers.  I wouldn't say any major selections happened, but I know there were people getting shelled in the crosswind section and probably on the climb.  I worked very hard to stay near the front going into the final climb on each lap, and was one of the first few over the top every time.  Coming in to the climb on the final lap, a few more guys managed to sneak around me in the pack and I was a little boxed in, but still fairly close to the front.  I applied the gas gradually as the climb started and rolled past a fair number of dudes who probably hit the gas too hard early on the slope.  I think I should have gone harder from the beginning in hindsight, but that is easy to say now that I am sitting on my couch and not suffering.  One dude clipped someone's wheel and rode in to the ditch ahead of me, and Kennet's little brother blew up spectacularly while sprinting for the line.  I was happy with a 5th place finish, but I think I could have done better if I had hit it earlier on the climb and got with the leaders at the beginning.  5th place was good enough for a cash prize, and I even got Goldstein's trivia question correct for $5 more (it was Tom Boonen winning Paris Roubaix - duh!).  After the race, I put on my recovery compression socks and did some lawn mowing and yard work.

 Kind of like plowing through the wind on a solo breakaway.  

Dammit why didn't anyone bring a camera!?!

Later that night, one of the torrential downpours we have been having occurred and I started to worry about the conditions of the course for the Icebreaker crit.  I've crashed a few times this season, and taking corners at high speed on a wet road didn't sound too appealing.  By the morning of the race things were drying out a bit, so at the last minute I made the decision to go for it, kitted up and jumped in the car to get my crit on.  There were about five riders from the Pacific Power team in the field, and I was initially worried that they were going to effectively use their numbers to dominate the race.  They did a bit of attacking and counter attacking early on and made some attempts at "blocking" which really didn't work.  They had riders off the front for a couple of laps, but none of the moves looked very threatening. When the first bell rang for a prime, a couple of guys from Portland attacked hard and went free at the beginning of the lap.  Two more riders went on the back stretch to try to bridge, and then I went because I figured that if all five of us got a gap we could work together and make the break stick.  Even though there were still 18 laps to go, I thought a break of a few strong guys could run away with the race.  After the prime, all of us who were off the front came together and it became apparent that those dudes were only interested in the prime because they sat up despite the decent gap back to the main field.  I didn't attack them since I actually was hoping at least one of them would go with me.  I just ramped it up to a time trial effort and quickly noticed that I was all alone.  I had a pretty sizable gap on the field, which was catching the 4 other guys.  I thought things might slow down when they re joined the pack, so I was motivated to make my gap even bigger and kept going as hard as I could.  I noticed that there were still 17 laps to go, but I figured that if I could meter my effort and not blow up, either someone would join me and we could stay away, or the worst thing that could happen is that I would get caught and have to make another plan.  I put my head down and kept suffering, using the thought of lapping the field and getting back in to the draft as motivation to keep going.  The laps kept ticking by and I didn't start really hurting bad until about 5 to go.  This was also when one guy got pretty close to bridging up to me.  He must have motivated the pack, because they got a fair bit closer as well.  I knew that if the solo guy caught me at that point he would most likely take me in the sprint, so I didn't wait for him at all.  I managed to pick it up a mph or so, and finally heard the bell for 1 to go.  Knowing the field would be winding it up for the sprint, I emptied the gas tank, and managed to hold them off for the win.  That was the first mass start race that I have ever won; it was certainly one of the most thrilling moments I have ever experienced on two wheels.

Lisa raced with the cat. 3 men along with several of my Paul's teammates.  Their race was quite animated and a lot of fun to watch.  It ended up being won by a couple of dudes in a breakaway, with 3rd and 4th place going to yet another breakaway containing my buddy Matt Baumann.  Winning is much more fun than being dropped.  Now that I am somewhat fit I am going to be chasing that dragon for the rest of the season.  Hopefully I will get another "W" under my belt before winter rolls around.

Tobacco - Live in PDX

Last week, Kat, Todd and I ventured up to Portland to catch Tobacco on his tour up the west coast. For those not in the know, Tobacco is the pseudonym of Tom Fec, the man behind Black Moth Super Rainbow. BMSR is a 5-piece band, complete with live drums, bass, and multiple analog synths. Tobacco is essentially Fec on his own, and the music is more similar to hip-hop than the electronic hippie rock of BMSR. It is definitely not your garden-variety hip-hop, however. To my ears, it sounds like music from a ghetto in the distant utopian future, where the obsolete robots hang out and unsavory things sometimes happen after dark. Back to the events of the night though…





There were several other acts performing that night. We arrived at the venue during Pictureplane's set. His music is similar to mainstream late 90’s dance techno, except with vocals and some dissonance. It wasn’t really my cup of tea but it was fun watching the throngs of Portland kids dancing away with abandon. Especially impressive was the dance troupe that came in matching outfits with a load of accessories including strings of Christmas lights.

Next up was Small Black, an indie pop band from New York. They had good energy, especially their bass player. I think a bass player that really gets into it does a lot for a live band, but maybe I am biased since I used to be a bass player that got into it during my days as a rock star in the massive liberal arts college music scene in Tacoma WA. Unfortunately, small Black’s music was pretty forgettable.

Finally it came time for Tobacco to perform. Tobacco was backed up on synth by a woman from BMSR (his girlfriend?) who calls herself “The Seven Fields of Aphelion” and a mysterious masked individual who’s function seemed to largely be that of a hype man. They took the stage and set up two data projectors. One featured video mashups from the 80’s and 90’s – lots of low budget horror movies, break dancing clips, and some bizarre though not technically obscene porno. The other projector was hooked up to a laptop that was running Chat Roulette. I was unfamiliar with this program until the concert, but quickly learned that it connects you with random individuals that you are supposed to video-chat with. It turns out that a large number of the users consist of fellows that like to show each other their respective junks. As the concert went on, the program switched from dude to dude in their bedrooms and connected them to a room full of dancing weirdos. We more than once served as an audience for a junk display. Kat took the stage and typed out conversations with a few of these dudes. She also kept the laptop appropriately aimed at the crowd and served as a very effective hype assistant.



Aside from the projected wackiness the performance wasn’t super exciting. I think this is a common problem with live electronic music. Most of the music was coming from Tobacco’s laptop. It sounded great, but watching someone play guitar is certainly more interesting than watching someone type. He did do the vocals through a guitar talk box instead of his usual vocoder though. It was visually a little more entertaining but it didn’t sound quite as cool. BMSR was a lot more fun to watch with their live drummer and bassist. I am pretty sure Tobacco realized this, and that is why he had the hype man up there going nuts. He did a pretty good job of going nuts- his activities included crowd surfing, dancing on stage with random Portland girls, and occasionally manning the chat roulette laptop with vigor. As a side note, there is a rumor that the hype man in the Los Angeles show was Tobacco’s collaborator and all around famous guy Beck.

The hype mask

The crowd was quite in to the performance and there was much dancing and merrymaking. Everyone was very disappointed when the set ended and there was no encore. After the show, I visited the merchandise table where Tobacco and "The Seven Fields of Aphelion" (I really wish I knew her real name so I wouldn’t have to type that anymore) were selling stuff. I chatted with them for a bit and bought a DVD of the crazy shit that was projected during the show. They both came across as very down to earth and friendly, especially TSFOA.  As a fan, it sure is a lot of fun to chat in person with the musicians you listen to every day.

We skipped out on The Hood Internet’s set and left the venue on a quest for food as Todd had skipped dinner. I was turned away at the the Doug Fir because my driver’s license was expired (oops), so we went to Voodo Doughnut. They were sadly out of bacon maple bars, much to Kat’s displeasure, so we made do with apple fritters and regular maple bars. The fritter was delicious, although it probably contained more than one day’s worth of calories. One can’t be an anal cyclist all the time though, right? The drive back to Eugene went quickly with the good conversation provided by my chums. Overall it was a fantastic experience. Look forward to more reports from Portland concerts in the future.

Doug has a blog now? Yes indeed I do. I have been quantifying my vanity pretty carefully for the past while and it has finally crossed the blogging threshold (this is just beyond the point where hair product seems like a good idea in case you were wondering). Happy Cycling it is the title. I stole that from a Boards of Canada song. It seems appropriate because I plan on writing about music and cycling. I’ll also throw in some science from time to time to keep you on your toes. I used to do radio as an undergrad and have been missing it for years now. I plan on running this thing like my old radio show, so stay tuned.