Take to the streets

This past weekend marked my debut appearance as a "roadie." Well... a hairy legged Cat. 5 roadie...

Off to the races!

I had registered only a few days before, spurred on by the big red "Only 4 spots remaining!" text plastered on the organizer's homepage. The weather forecast looked optimistic for a spring day in Ohio. Party cloudy with a 50% chance of rain and a high of 65. Race day conditions, however, were a little different...

At one point I believe it made it up to 52, and every last drop of that 50% chance of rain was wrung out of the clouds. There was thunder, there was "Thank you God most of my bike isn't made of metal" amounts of lightning, and at one point the noise from the pounding of my heart and rush of the wind was drowned out by the clank of hail on my helmet. The rain and wind would change intensity as bands of the storm rolled across the course. Icy cold rain from high up in the stronger bands signaled bad news - things were going to get worse before they got better. Time to grit the teeth and light some fire in my legs!

"May flowers" better be good this year....

The race itself went better than the weather. After about a mile of racing (out of the 35 mile race distance) a small group took off the front and made a gap of a few hundred meters. (I'm hoping that saying "meters" makes me sound more European and, by association, faster). "Oh, we'll form up a little chase group and reel them back in" I thought to myself - citing my expansive 4 minutes of road racing knowledge. So I sat near the front and waited... But, 3 or 4 miles later, no one was getting organized - so I took off after them myself, in the rain and... wind...

Shelter is for sissies

I caught up to them at the end of the first lap - within a few 10's of meters anyways. But the lap ended going up a hill to the finish and then out into a field (of tears) where the winds whipped around and lightning flashed in the distance. I was feeling pretty spent playing solo catch-up, and when the lead pack made a turn directly into the wind, I could only watch them slowly pull away.

I spent the rest of the race in Limbo - close enough to catch glimpses of the lead pack, but far enough away that I wasn't able to bridge the gap; and well ahead of the non-chasing "chase" group. I had heard that people would stay away from you in the pack if you had some scruff on your legs - I just didn't know it would be so far!

In the end I finished 12th, good enough to earn some points with the UCI and gain a better understanding of the skinny tire street guys. I should also say a Thank You to my COMBO Race Team and our sponsors: Kenda, Roll:, and Whole Foods! And also to Nuun, Honey Stinger and Tifosi!

Don't wake me up

I must be dreaming.

Sitting in front of me is a bike more valuable than my first two cars combined, and that weighs less than my first laptop.

It was back in March that I learned I was a winner. Well... Not me in particular, my friend/manager Krista who I had persuaded to enter Orbea's MyO contest. Basically, the contest was to build your dream bike and submit it to Orbea - then they would pick one winner and build the bike. (See "Wednesday" here)

Unfortunately, the 2-6 week delivery timeline stretched to 16 weeks (but who's counting) and near the end I was dreading getting a "Your bike is being held by an African Prince for shipping, we only need a security deposit or major credit card number...." email.

But one Friday, the wait would be over. An email to the bike shop building my dreams led to some good news: Not only had the bike finally arrived stateside, it was at their shop - and more - it was ready to be picked up! Krista and I left work for a late "Lunch" and headed to Westerville.

With my heart-rate in the low hundreds, we walked in the door - and there it was. After months of looking at pictures online - and taking spyshots of its twin (in the pits of a Motorcycle racetrack of all places) - there it was, in the carbon flesh that covers every inch of its angular body.

I walked up to touch it, still in awe and not ready to accept that this could be mine. The shop owner, Mason, finished trimming the steer tube and passed the bike onto me - the first time to feel the incredible lightness - I stood there taking in the purposefulness of every detail.

We headed out the door, bike in hand, and with my mind adrift on mountain passes.

I rode it the next day - just over 80 miles. I climbed the biggest hill I know of (in Columbus) in the big ring, out of breath but smiling at the top. I've been up that hill a few times now, and every time I mash the pedals and feel the bike surge skyward, I smile. Then gasp for breath...

http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/view/53886122

I named her "Amante," a reference to her Spanish heritage. Roughly translated, it means "The Other Lady" (don't tell Fast Wife). I try to picture the Basque country, her homeland, when I'm on my trainer...

I'm sure the cool mountain breezes feel almost like the humid stale air the oscillating fan blows in my face in the small, windowless yoga room in my apartment complex

It's hard to adequately describe how incredible this bike is - Sammy Sanchez rode an Orbea Orca to Polka Dot Jersey fame in the TDF this year - my Orca is a pound lighter than his (Shhhh! Don't tell the UCI!). The wheels, Mavic R-Sys SL's, are some of the lightest clinchers ever made (fully carbon spokes!).

Carbon spokes and hubs

Making mountains look smaller since 2010

The Campy Super Record groupset is the lightest currently "available" in the world. It's spoken of in hushed tones and is about as available as any other Italian supermodel. The red "11" highlights pop against the shimmering black structural carbon, which is polished to a high shine - mostly from me continuously wiping off my drool. Here are some of the highlights:

And....

Due to a little mix up, I ended up with (only) a Dura-Ace crank mated to my otherwise Campy drivetrain. (the initial image that loaded in the MyO software for the Campy groupset rendered a Dura-Ace Crank) But as long as there were no issues with the super-skinny 11 speed chain, I'm not about to complain.

The saddle is a Selle Italia SLR with a monolink rail (yep - full carbon). As far as I can tell it's made of extremely lightweight butter - the top of the saddle is smooth and easy to reposition yourself on, the middle has a bit of give, and there is plenty of support where there needs to be.

Light, aero, flexy fast

It is a pro-tour machine, a bike fit for the best in the world. And that is my curse. I will spend this winter spinning, working, training, so that I can ride and race this bike - not like someone with a big wallet and a carbon fetish, but as someone who has the miles in their legs to earn some seat time on a bike of this caliber.

Storms and Speed-bumps

Today was my first day back on the bike since visiting my dad for Father's Day - and it's already been a rough one.

I love visiting my dad, always good times and great food. But, it did lead to a bit of a speed-bump in terms of my cycling - the 10lb one that formed over my belt during the 5 days I spent in sunny South Carolina. Who would have known that drinking gallons of sweet tea - Mmmm... Sweet tea - and eating copious amounts of BBQ and seafood served in a bath of butter could be bad for you?

Lucky for me, there's a conference at work (The "Donut Conference") where delicious Buckeye Donuts donuts are served all day long. I figure if you pile enough donuts around a speed bump it should level itself out - at least that's my rational for eating three before noon.

Where are the Blueberry Cake donuts? In my stomach - that's where.

This morning though, I earned at least the first one. I started out on my commute in to work as usual, happy to be back on familiar roads and trails, and happier still that it was only 70 degrees out this morning. South Carolina summers are just a bit hotter... at 10am...

**Now with matching humidity!!**

What started as a bright and sunny morning in Ohio had quickly turned cloudy and off to my West - a storm was brewing. So much for taking it easy y first day back. Now, it was a race - me against the storm.

It turns out storms don't play fair. It kept taunting me, blowing wind in my face, then calm, then more wind; and trying to intimidate me with flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder. It had even recruited geese to come out and hiss at me in a desperate attempt at a diversion.

I put my head down and pushed, it felt like a few days of getting a "reasonable" amount of sleep had done some good for my legs. My lungs on the other hand weren't so happy and they were letting me know about it. It was going to come down to the finish line. Huffing and puffing I sped on and the storm roared in. I don't mind getting a little wet on the bike - but my laptop is pickier. This was going to be close. Pop, another gear. Faster. Almost there. Pop. Raindrops were starting to fall now. One more hill.

In the end, it was a tie. With a flash of lightning as I opened the door serving as a photo finish, the storm hit; I had made it.

Sounds like a good time for another donut...

OMBC - Grassman

Ouch. That's the best word to describe what was the longest and possibly most difficult OMBC race in history - with finishers coming in well past the 4 hour ride time mark (on a course just over 20 miles long!!).

The course description (before the race):

"The start section is 0.8 miles;
The main loop is 4.8 miles;
The finish section is 1.3 miles.

OMBC Pro/Expert Champion Ben Ortt has redesigned the Grassman course for 2011 and it isn’t for the faint of heart.
Each main loop features the infamous Heart Attack Hill with a 170 vertical foot climb in a fifth of a mile, a 16% grade! Ben has also designed in 4 other significant climbs at over 10% grade. The expert course features 2960 feet of climbing over the 21.3 miles. You will need two or more hearts for this course!"

And after the race, this was posted:

"Thanks to everyone that endured what may be the most difficult ever, old school ninety's style course ever concocted. Thanks to Ben Ortt and Dave Ruble and fellow course marshalls for all the work you've done at the race and on the course. Ben has promised a more doable, flowable style for next year with a more novice friendly distance/difficulty."

What I think was meant by "a more doable, flowable style for next year with a more novice friendly distance/difficulty" was a profile with a little more recovery time than this one:

Like a saw for your legs

But, just before noon, the sun was shining, and people were lining up at the start not knowing what they were in for.


In fact, most riders were on the lookout for the course's namesake, the Ohio Grassman (like Bigfoot by most accounts, only smellier). Anyways, riders jostled around in the sun waiting for their turn to start off.

What is that in the background?!?!?! Could it be....

Yikes, with temps in the high 80's it's no wonder the Grassman smells

Finally, the call went out for my division. I positioned myself in the front for the start. I had pre-rode the first section of the course - gravel road up a hill, then down into the singletrack which quickly came to the first of the day's skyward reaching ascents - and knew I wanted to be near the front by the time we hit the hills to avoid any bottlenecks.
The horn sounded the start and we were off! I stayed with the lead group until about halfway up the first hill when I made a quick sprint to the top to be first into the singletrack.

This section was fun - quick, sweeping turns... And then the hills.
The last race at Mohican Wilderness has long been touted as the toughest of the series - not anymore. The hills on this course just kept coming. I've never been off my bike so much (or seen as many other people off theirs) as I did in this race. It wasn't really the height of the climbs, none were that long, it was that they had grades of ~15% and many were fresh cut, meaning that they were still slimy. Usually, when the hills are this ridiculous, you at least have the assurance of some really fun downhill sections ahead of you. But here, not so much. The downhill sections were STEEP and technical. Rocks, logs, and squirmy terra firma kept you on your toes and made any notion of a recovery on these downhills hard to come by. There were nearly as many shoe tracks on some of the downhill sections as there were on the uphill.

The smarter riders called it quits early and went back to enjoy some Great Lakes. The rest of us (probably delusional from the heat) stuck it out and did multiple laps through this monster. I will say, even through all this suffering, riders were respectful and encouraging - making room for people to pass, and shouting things like "Gbblahh!" as people tried to ride some of the hill sections (maybe that last one was just me gasping for air).

Being in the division with the fewest number of laps (and taking another win!) I was the first rider to cross the finish... And only an hour and 50 minutes after the race had started...

Congrats to my fellow COMBO Race team riders Heidi, Michael, Joe (This was his first race! Hell of a way to start!), and Shannon; who finished (a "W" on it's own) 1st, 7th, 6th, and 4th respectively.

Thanks to all the sponsors of our team (our big Kenda pop-up was a godsend!).

Looking forward now to the Mohican 100!

Goose Rant

I would guess that anyone who has ridden on a bike trail near a major body of water has had to deal with one of these:

She may look adorable, but she has the glassy eyes of a killer.

These menaces from the great white north have their way with area bike trails. Leaving little "presents" for everyone.

And now is the time of year they bring their fuzzy little devil progeny out to meet the world.

Yeah... Adorable...

"You seem pretty bitter" you may be saying.

Well... let me tell you a story.

I'm commuting in to work earlier this week, and I come across a mama goose ushering her little goslings across the trail. "Oh looook how fuzzzy and cute!" I think to myself. I slowed down, oblivious... I was about 5 feet from these little guys, nearly stopped - when out of the bushes rushes papa goose! Hissing wings out!! It was a trap!! I was being ambushed!!!

Papa goose

I stomped on the pedals to try to get away. Behind me I could hear hissing and wings flapping. I looked back and papa goose had taken flight and was tailing me "HISSSSS HISSSSSSS!!!!" I put my head down and barely made it out with my life.

A mile later (I was still recovering) I came across another group of geese. My heart rate picked up in a tense anticipation. Then, at the darkest hour, a man came riding in the opposite direction with a rolled up poster in his hand - jabbing it at the geese like some master fencer! "Watch out for the geese!" He shouted as he went by.

Glad to hear I'm not the only one...

OMBC - Mohican Wilderness (Race Season Begins)

This past weekend marked my start of this year's off road racing season, and my first race as part of the Combo Race Team. 

OMBC Race #2

It was a cold (Mid 40's) and windy (Mid 40mph gusts) day in the hilly part of central Ohio.
If you don't think there are any hills in central Ohio, look at the elevation profile from the Mohican 100 held on some of the same trails. Sure - none of the climbs will take you above the tree line in terms of overall gain - but there are no elevators to haul you up the walls that are some of the climbs on these trails.

The race description:
"The Race Course: Put on your big boy pants for the grandaddy of them all, The Wilderness features some of the toughest climbing in Ohio, technical rock gardens, and a few crazy descents to help you temporarily forget about the next big climb. Portions of the course will be included in the upcoming Mohican MTB100."
"Poached from Spoke Junkies : Features the longest climb in Ohio. On the downhill you will experience some radically cool rock gardens, some killer switchbacks, and a technical, loose, rocky, section that’ll make you wish for a bigger insurance policy. This downhill lasts for a couple of miles and is a blast! Technical bits, rollercoaster style singletrack, long grueling climbs, and bombastic downhills. Highlights include a semi-technical downhill with some light rock gardens and a short, steep climb on an old logging road. The end finishes off with a fun, fast rollercoaster style trail."

The climbs are what always have my attention at this course. As an ex-fat kid I always have the fear that I'll pop heading up one of the hills and turn into a giant gasping lung - mouth open, eyes glazed over - not a pretty picture. This year though, my training over the winter had been much better, and my wife got me some "Go fast wheels" for Christmas. My legs were feeling good even if my stomach was in knots.

Happy to see a number-plate back on the bike!

I milled around to stay warm and rode the first stretch of singletrack a few times. The hard rains from the night before had left some portions of the trail muddy, but most of the course was in good shape.
Eventually I heard the P.A. crackle that meant the start was coming up soon, so I headed up toward the start along with Combo teammates Paul, Heidi, and Shannon; as well as Lighty McClimberson (who said he was feeling more like "Heavy McWalks-up-hills" today).

I watched as the Sport and Expert classes took off into the hills and took my place at the starting line. I positioned myself near the front, hoping to get into the singletrack early to avoid any pileups and to see how muddy the trails were going to be after the Sport and Expert classes had their way with them.

I was first going into the singletrack (Yahoo!!) but clipped a pedal on a root during a short muddy uphill and had to hop off the side - 2 riders went by. We started climbing out into an open field that connects the start with the main section of the course and the wind was making itself known. I managed to pass one rider and tucked in behind another to "ride out" the wind. I saw that there was a small descent coming and knew I had to make a move (my belly would give me a nice boost heading downhill before turning into the woods for the start of the first big climb). I jumped past and opened up a good gap going into the woods.

We were climbing now and I was feeling it. I had tried to switch into my small ring, but my bike wasn't having it - today was going to be fast or nothing. I hunched down low over my bars and stuck it out, getting a good lead on the field going into the more technical stuff at the top of the hill.

Most of my memories from the rest of the race are of the downhill sections (which are awesome - fast, a little technical with rocks and roots to keep you on your toes, and fast again for good measure). My mind always seems to repress memories of the climbs, which is probably a good thing if I'm going to race here again at the Championship race in October.

Into the singletrack - look at that attack position! :/

I remember seeing Paul at one point - I think we were on the section the race director described as "a short, steep climb on an old logging road." I'm pretty sure that could be updated to "a barely walkable section of washed out, rutted road embedded with small boulders." If anyone on a singlespeed made it up that, I will meet you with a six-pack and some money to have your pant legs let out - I imagine there aren't any that would fit over your granite thighs.

The race rolled on and I was feeling pretty good.  I was catching some of the Sport riders and trying to maintain whatever lead I had. The week before I had started reading the book "A Dog in a Hat" and one of the chapters was titled : "Nobody else in the Photo" apparently a Belgian phrase meaning that the person who won the race was so far in the lead that there was Nobody else in the Photo on the sports page the next day. With no clear idea of how far ahead I was, it was that phrase that I kept repeating to myself when I would start to slack-off or slow up. "Maybe I'll just sit on this sport guy's wheel for the next climb.... Hey, that guy's walking the hill - maybe I should do that too..." And then another wave of "Nobody else in the Photo." I would press on.

My favorite part of the course is at the top of the hill that overlooks the finish area. From here, you know that the race is almost over, and, if you've ridden here before, you know that before you lies some seriously fast and fun downhill. With my belly out and no sight of anyone behind me, I knew I had a good shot at winning this thing. I let loose and went screaming down (literally and figuratively). Crossing from singletrack to the road leading to the finish is energizing no matter how far you've gone, and I popped gears until I ran out. My Kenda Small Block 8's (Thanks Kenda!) were humming like an electric motor. I big ringed my way down, flying into the parking lot - realized that I in fact had to go around the parking lot :/ - and then middle ringed it across the line. It was my first win and a great way to start the season with my new team.

Look at that split time - 6:12:31! A new record in slow!

Thanks to everyone who helped at the race - directing, placing signs, clearing the trail, etc. And to my sponsors! It feels good to finally win one.

Congrats to my fellow Combo teammates, and to Lighty who finished 3rd!

To the victor go the spoils

Next OMBC race is in a month - Grassman May 22. Hope to be in the new Team Kit by then!