Team Mango

Back Into It

I decided at the last moment to enter my first mountain bike race in four years on Saturday. I’ve been doing some light training this winter and spring, so I thought this would be a nice race-as-training-ride event. It was the sixth race in the Westside MTB Series put on by BuDu Racing. And even though they don’t officially sanction their members for MTB races, this would be my first race wearing the ByrneInvent team kit.

As the 60 or so Sport class riders were gathering at the start line to be seeded by age group, a cyclist came speeding up the road behind us yelling “WE NEED A MEDIC!”. Some guy in the stunt jump area of the park where the BMX’ers hang out had apparently taken a hard fall and sustained a head injury. The race official called 911, and delayed our race for half an hour so that the emergency vehicles could get through. Within minutes, two fire trucks, the fire chief’s truck, an ambulance and 3 police squad cars sped past us and made their way to the jump area. I didn’t hear any details about the injury other than overhearing someone that watched the paramedics do their work say that they had to induce paralysis in order to insert a breathing tube. This sounded to me like a pretty extreme measure for paramedics to be taking in the field, but apparently it *is* done. I also heard someone ask another person who had witnessed the crash, “was it bad?”. The response was a wide-eyed and very solemn, “yeah, it’s really fucking bad.”

The 30 minute delay allowed me and others the opportunity to warm up some more and get familiar with the course. I’ve done many races at South Seatac Park, but the course is always different, owing to the maze of trails that can be cordoned off in countless ways. So a quick lap was just the thing to prep me for the race. Best of all, it allowed me to scout out the best opportunities for passing riders on what has always been an incredibly tight course.

The emergency crew cleared out of the park, and the starting gun went off about 45 minutes after our scheduled 11:00a start. There were 20 riders in my age group, and as we sped up the road before entering the singletrack, I found my usual place in the middle of the pack. A guy 3 riders ahead of me was already slowing me and some other riders down after 5 minutes. We waited until the trail crossed one of the park’s road and then all made a burst to get around. I wound up at the front of this small pack as we entered the singletrack again, which meant that *I* would now be holding up traffic if I didn’t keep the pace up. To my amazement, I began pulling away from those behind me, and began to edge up on another guy in front. Again, once I caught up to him, I waited for the wide spot in the trail, but powered past him. By the end of the first lap, I had passed 3 or 4 riders and not been passed myself. I hit the lap button on my heart rate monitor at 0:20:30.

Lap two was spent largely on my own, with no one in immediate sight of me, either in front or behind. So without other riders with which to gage my progress, I concentrated on keeping my pace up without setting myself up to bonk later on. My lap 2 time was 0:20:03.

On the third and final lap, I caught up to another rider. But just as I thought I was ready to pass, he would gain some ground on me. I caught up to him again only to have him pull away once more, and on and on like this through most of the lap. But my chance came on a steep climb, when he lost traction and had to put a foot down. I cranked up past him, and he gave me a good-spirited “nice job, man!”. He added, “we’ve almost got the guy in front of us”. Indeed, a few turns later and I saw my next target. I had almost caught up to him at the highest point on the course when it turns into a long, curving and very fast descent. I kept on his tail as best as I could and noted that he was a little wobbly on some of the tighter curves. And then the moment that I had been hoping for happened; he took a sliding fall on a turn right in front of me. I yelled out “rider down!” to alert the riders behind me, which also prompted him to jump out of my way as I sped through. This would be my last passing opportunity, so the rest of the race consisted of trying to outrun anyone behind me. In the last few turns of the course, I could hear a few riders closing in behind me, but I crossed the finish line before they got to me. Turns out I had slowed down on a bit on this lap; completing it in 0:20:40.

Results have me in 7th place out of 20 riders in the Sport 40+ group, which completely surpassed my expectations! The Indie Series MTB race are just starting up for the season, so I’ll definitely be getting back into the sport this year. Road racing can wait a few months…

indie race #5 - padden mountain pedal

NOTE: I started writing this entry soon after the race happened, but it fell by the wayside. I just noticed it sitting on my desktop, so I thought I’d post it for the record… and to continue my exercises in self-deprecation. I’ve got one more entry for the last race of the season which I’ll post… oh…. next year sometime?

——————
Sunday, July 10, was the “Padden Mountain Pedal” — the fifth race in the Indie Series. My support crew — Pam, Alexander and Louise— joined me for a day trip up to Bellingham for the race. Instead of a test lap of the course, we all took a relaxing spin around Lake Padden before the race. Then the three of them went off to play in the park while I did my dirty work.

From the start line, I took off with the bulk of the pack and decided to see if I could keep up with the pace. I did… for about the first mile. But as soon as the course turned upwards, I started lagging behind and the pack breezed by me. Oh well, typical for this season, I’m just here to finish.

The course was an excellent mix of terrain and trail types. The first half wound gently uphill with a fast, smooth, gravelly doubletrack. There were a few uphill technical root crossings, but nothing that made anyone jump off their bike and run. There were, however, a few very short steep rises that were slippery enough to force most riders to run instead of spinning their wheels. At the top of the hill (about 500 vertical feet up from the start), the trail turned into singletrack and descended the other side of the hill. It was a long series of switchbacks, with each leg being about 500 yards long. The trail was exceptionally smooth and very fast, which made some of the small maneuvers along the trail quite exciting. Each switchback ended with a 180 degree turn which required a leg out for stability.

On the last leg of the switchback section (on my first lap), the trail came up to a large tree directly in the path of travel. The trail then made a 90 degree turn to the left while simultaneously dropping down about 6 vertical feet over exposed roots, then a 90 degree turn back to the right at the bottom, then continuing sharply downhill from there (I’ll call it the “big ass drop” or BAD). As I hadn’t preridden the course, I had to assess this situation on the fly. I decided to go for it. I got down into the roots then immediately felt my weight too far forward. The ass end of my bike rose up and I made an emergency ejection, stepping clean over the handlebars and coming to a running stop while my bike bounded end over end behind me. It was one of those wipeouts where I’m not sure exactly how I survived, but I did. No one was behind me, so I picked up my bike and continued on.

About half a mile later on a flat straight-away, I reached down to discover that my water bottle had flown the coup, most likely during my previous endo. Great, now I’m screwed, I thought. Hopefully Pam was standing at the start line watching so I could have her give me her water bottle. As I finished my first lap, I kept a sharp eye out for Pam, but didn’t see her in the crowd. The water station further up the trail would be my only source of water now, I guess.

Lap Two started out tamely enough, huffing it up the hill to the top and back down the other side. I broke into the switchback section again and came upon the BAD again. I wanted to get a better look at it before trying the drop again in earnest, so I decided to hop off the bike and run down the drop to check out a potential line for the next lap. At the bottom, a young woman was standing there waiting to take a photo of some friend of hers attempt the BAD. I asked her if she’d seen an errant water bottle lying in the woods nearby, but she hadn’t. I hopped back on my bike and hurriedly took off. Half a second later she yelled “wait! here it is!!!”. In my excitement I hit the brakes a little too hard and went endo again — this time with an audience. Lovely. I ran back up to her and indeed she had found my water bottle lying underneath a fern. I thanked her profusely, if not a little embarrassingly, and took off, quenching my incredible thirst.

The rest of lap two was a complete technical disaster. At every tricky part in the trail, I seemed to lose my balance. The simplest switchback turn dumped me on my side. Several times I couldn’t clip out of my pedals in time and went down still attached to my bike. After another endo, I fumbled with clipping back into my pedals and went endo again! What was wrong with me? I stopped for a moment to catch my breath, shake off, and have a little zen moment to calm down (somehow I doubt that serious competitors ever stop mid-race to have a zen moment…).

I took off again, rounded the start/finish line and successfully completed laps three and four with much trouble at all. To redeem my previous performance to this point, I successfully maneuvered down and through the BAD (on my bike) on both laps three and four! A little meditation did the trick after all. My shoddy coordination had disappeared. However, my stamina was quickly fading and I was walking more and more of the uphills. I wasn’t surprised at all to finish second to last out of about 20 riders.

indie race #4 - leavenworth

the “bavarian bike & brew festival” in leavenworth, washington was last saturday, june 4th. i made the 2-hour drive out there at the crack o’ dawn. unfortunately, i didn’t have time to pre-ride the course before the first race began, so i had to gather beta from those around me that had. the comments i heard made it quickly apparent that a pre-ride wasn’t really necessary. a 4-mile, 1800’ climb straight up, a 4-mile 1800’ non-technical singletrack back down, and repeat. …and they weren’t kidding.

after registering, i warmed up on the short hill just below the start line, did some stretching, then did the usual 20 minute wait at the start line for the race to begin. at the starting gun, i, and my racing brethren, went from a dead-stop and resting heart rate, to a hard crank uphill at almost max heart rate in the tiny space of about 2 minutes. i think all of us had in mind that this race would be won on the long drawn out uphill slog.

all season long, i had started each race in my rightful place somewhere near the end of the pack so as to avoid potential collisions as racers vied for position. at this race, though, the pack spread out quite nicely at the start and i was able to work my way up through the pack at whatever pace worked for me. i decided to push myself a bit harder than usual for a race start and soon found myself passing about three quarters of the pack. i kept my HR at a manageable 165 and just kept cranking away.

at about 1.2 miles, the doubletrack road turned to singletrack (still uphill). passing was nearly impossible on this section as the narrow trail was severely off-camber with a huge drop to the side. crank, breathe, crank, breathe, creeping along at about 4 mph until the 4-mile mark. at the top, there was a water station with a wide spot in the trail. i grabbed a cup and doused my head, then geared up to enjoy the ride back down.

like the others had said, the ride back down was almost totally non-technical. except for the high speeds (i hit 39.5 mph), it was merely a matter of staying on course. one exception to this, though, were the occasional “waterbars”. for those who don’t know, a waterbar is a mound of dirt piled up perpendicularly across the trail to prevent water from running straight down the trail and eroding it. the waterbars on this trail were about two to three feet tall. soooo…, about every two hundred yards, i’d have to go from 40mph down to about 15 in order to avoid launching myself off the mountain, go over the waterbar, then do a short sprint to get back up to cruising speed.

once i got a feel for how the waterbars felt, i started getting cocky and hitting them at faster and faster speeds, catching a little air. that cockiness came to an abrupt halt when i hit one waterbar in particular, entered said air, then returned to earth on my front tire with my rear end dangerously close to traveling in the wrong direction (over my handlebars). i don’t know quite how i did it, but somehow i maintained my balance, swerved a wee bit while riding my front tire in a sort of brake-stand, then returning to normal with both wheels on the ground. it was extremely uncoordinated, but at least i didn’t crash. i toned it down a bit and continued on, doing my best to keep close to the earth.

at the bottom of the downhill (40 minutes up, 13 minutes down!), i exited the singletrack and settled in for another long slog up. i knew a was still in the front half of the pack as no one had passed me on the downhill. so i cranked as hard as i thought i could sustain for the next 4 miles. i passed a few more people on the uphill, but found out they were in the 40’s age group.

at the top, i geared up again and sped back down — keeping in mind the lesson i learned on the first lap. towards the bottom, i came up on one rider going about my speed but i couldn’t find a good place to pass. i ended up coasting closely behind him until exiting the singletrack. we both broke into a sprint and i managed to eek by him, beating him to the finish line. after stopping, the two of us shook hands and found out we were in different age groups (he was quite relieved).

i’m happy to say that i did indeed finish a lot higher than i typically have so far this season — 13th out of 34 riders! that helped to jump me up to sixth place overall in points for the series, but there are now only 10 riders still in contention for the whole series in my age group.

after the results were posted, i started playing “what if” games with myself. if i had only cut 60 seconds off of my two climbs, i would potentially have passed *four* riders in my age group, putting me in 9th! as always, if only i had pushed just a *little bit* harder…….

next race is the padden mountain pedal, part of the WHIMP FEST in bellingham, july 10th.

indie race #3 - whidbey island

last sunday’s aptly named “whidbey island mudder” was for me a reaffirmation that mountain biking is by far my favorite sport to participate in — if nothing more than it satisfies my boyhood need to play in the mud.

a couple days before the race, the weather had been quite soggy. driving up to catch the ferry in mukilteo on sunday morning, i drove through some torrential rain. but just about every other car lined up to catch the ferry that morning had a mountain bike attached to it somehow. a little rain, or even a lot, wasn’t going to scare any racers away. in fact, the possibility of mud seemed to draw them out of their warm, cozy homes.

the course for “the mudder” was laid out on someone’s private property — about 15-20 acres of densely forested land. after registering, i took off for a slow test lap to check the course. besides the short rise leading away from the start/finish line, the terrain was amazingly flat — flatter than many of the courses i used to race in nebraska! under the tree cover, the course was a moist forest trail. in the open, though, large areas of mud awaited us. i did my best to steer clear of the mud bogs on my test lap, so as not to gunk up my gears before the race. mostly, the course was a meandering maze with tight turns, some nice technical sections, and a few manmade jumps and dropoffs. the big one was a 10 foot, almost completly vertical drop with a ramp up and sharp left turn at the bottom. this is where most of the spectators would gather in hopes of seeing either amazing bicycle maneuvering, or some hard falls.

the race promoters were testing out a new race format for the series — the technical timed short course. for ‘sport’ class, we would all ride for 75 minutes. each time we crossed the start/finish line, our race number would be logged and our laps counted (each lap was about 3.0 miles). after 75 minutes, a bell would ring, signifying that all racers would finish whatever lap they were on.

because the course was so tight and didn’t present a lot of passing opportunities, i jumped off the start line and powered up the short hill, finding a spot about mid-pack before diving into the singletrack. the first half lap was bumper-to-bumper traffic, although i managed to pass a couple gents, and got passed myself by a couple others.

i felt surprisingly good after my first lap and settled in a groove that i thought i could sustain for 90 minutes. lap #1 took me about 13:30, so i spent lap #2 doing some higher math in my head to figure out how many laps i could get in before the bell (about 5 1/2 laps), and what it would take to squeeze a full six laps (i’d have to reduce my lap time to about 12:30 — not bloody likely). so i held my pace and decided to adjust it depending on how i felt later on.

by the third or fourth lap, the course was really ripped up by the 75+ sport class riders that were on it presently. the covered sections were still holding up, but the open, muddy sections had been thoroughly dug out and were getting really boggy. one section in particular consisted of a fast, sweeping turn on soggy grass, which dumped into a six foot long section of axle-deep muddy water. i didn’t have the joy of experiencing it, but if one were to blow through this puddle just behind another rider, he/she would have been bathed in a wall of mirky, brown, cold water. anyway, after exiting this small pond up a muddy embankment, there was a 30 foot long unrideable stretch of ankle deep mud. this meant hopping of my steed and tromping through the goo. on the far end, i would jump back in the saddle and spend the next quarter mile trying to clear my cleats of the thick paste stuck to the bottom of my shoes. as i pedaled, i would wiggle my feet back and forth trying to scrape the mud off. but when they were clean enough, my cleats did not so much “click” into the pedals as they did “ooooozzze” into them.

around and around i went, counting the laps, and enjoying the ever-thickening coating of mud on my bike and my body. one thing i didn’t enjoy, though, was the coating of mud on my water bottle, which made my swigs of gatorade a little on the gritty side. surprisingly, my gears were remaining relatively mud free and i didn’t have any problems with shifting the entire race. my front disc brake worked like a charm the whole race, but my rear brake (a v-brake on the rim), was pretty much useless.

i had just completed my fifth lap and was about 2 minutes into my sixth when the 75 minute bell rang. my arms and my lower back were starting to get sore from the intensely technical course, so the thought of doing one more lap was a bit daunting. but i continued on and finished feeling quite good (and like i could have pushed myself a bit harder).

i checked in at the scoring table, then headed back to the car to clean up and stuff some food and water down my throat. after resting for a bit, i returned to the finish line to wait for the results to be posted. as the result sheets were displayed, all the racers gathered around to see how they did. i was a bit startled to see that they had shown me only completing 5 laps, not 6 like i had counted. as i continued scanning the results, i heard another person compain about how they know they finished better than what the results showed. and still others said they know other racers finished in front of them. mass pandemonium broke out and i’d say roughly a quarter or more of the racers were soon protesting the results. the race official was being berated with complaints about bogus results and misplaced finishers. entire classes of riders were holding their own conferences to the side to determine amongst themselves what order they finished in. in the end, the final results were largely confirmed by the riders themselves, not the race official. my own gripe was not so much about what place i finished in (i was shown 10th out of 13 riders), but that the number of laps i had completed was shown incorrectly. however, i knew the name and race number of the rider i finished immediately after in the race, and i was indeed shown finishing right after him in the results, so i called it good and went home.

a few days later, the results were posted on the website, and showed me finishing 13th out of 13, but the 9th place finisher was still in 9th. i emailed the official and said “WTF?” and explained my case. he agreed that i had been shown in 10th and took me on my word that i had finished immediately after the guy shown in 9th and readjusted the results. he didn’t have an explanation for the change in the final results but understandably was a bit confused at this point with the myriad complaints he had to field after the race. he admitted “that’s the last time i ever organize a race with that format!”.

so, another sub-mid-pack finish for me this year, but once again i jump a little higher in the overall standings — i’m now 8th out of 42 riders in ‘sport men 30-39’. next race is june 4th at the “bavarian bike & brew festival” in leavenworth!

indie race #2 - seatac

well, life is too busy right now to write my usual wordy report about this sunday’s race, so i’ll just say that my two weeks of illness and one week of half-assed training before the race showed! but here are some photos that at least make me *look* good…

(yes, that’s a seat post in the photo)

(i can’t remember if i was trying to soak up the bump in the trail or about to vomit at this point)

i finished 16 out of 20 in my class. because some riders didn’t participate in either this race or the last race, i actually jumped up to 13th place for series points. like last year, i’ll probably continue to climb in the rankings as other riders drop out (most below me) and i’ll end up close to last place for those riders who actually complete the series.

next race is may 15th on whidbey island…

indie race #1 - belfair

another year, another race season.

i’ve really been looking forward to this season after abandoning last season due to a cavalcade of illnesses. i started my training in earnest in december with weights and some light cycling. i soon abandoned my training owing to a huge workload at the office and managed only to get in one good ride per week.

but at least i was staying healthy.

the biggest news this week comes in the area of technology. this year… well, actually saturday night before the race, i finally made the switch to disc brakes (avid BB7 mechanical disc brakes). i’ve always heard that one should never be wrenching on one’s bike the night before the a race, but i’d had my new brakes and wheel sitting in my shop for months and couldn’t resist trying them out.

my kestrel CSX frame does not have disc brake mountain tabs on the rear triangle, so i was only able to install a disc on the front. but that suits me fine since 90% of braking effective comes from the front wheel anyway.

the installation was amazingly easy. simply bolt the calipers to the fork, mount the wheel, and adjust the pads and that’s that.

when i first arrived at the race, i had about 2 hours to spare before my start time. so, i hopped on my bike to test the brakes out. when i first applied the brakes, the disc was squealing HORRIBLY! this was going to be embarrassing if i had to do the whole race with loudly squealing brakes. but i did some quick adjustments and rode around for another 15 minutes and the squealing soon dissipated.

and for those of you who have experienced the tremendous difference when upgrading from cantilever to v-brakes, the disc brake had an equally impressive jump in grabbiness over v-brakes! i almost went endo on my first couple of hard stops, but soon got the feel for them.

one other new gadget is a recently upgraded heart rate monitor — the polar S520. besides monitoring my heart rate (what else would you expect a heart rate monitor to do?), it has a built in bike computer (speed, distance) with a wireless remote sensor. also, i’m able to upload my readings to my PC so i can create these nifty and extremely useful graphs! (the graph below is from sunday’s race).

anyway, on to the race…

this race is the first in a new series called the “indie series”. for some reason, round and round productions, the promoter of the WIM series i used to race in, scheduled all of their races in spokane this year. because of that, the good folks at JF2 racing decided to hold non-NORBA sanctioned races for those of us in western washington — hence the “indie” moniker. this first race was held in belfair, washington, just west of bremerton on the kitsap peninsula.

given my lack of adequate training, i started the race by taking my rightful place at the back of the pack early on. there would be no grand delusions of killing myself in the first 1/2 mile to fight for good placement that i knew i could never maintain. besides, i didn’t want anyone to be around if my brakes started squealing again.

the course was run on what was usually a motocross trail. i hate these courses. they are full of whoop-dee-doos ad nauseum, lots of exposed roots, and loose golfball-sized rocks. on the other hand, it was probably the flattest course i’ve ridden in washington. there was only about 200’ difference between the high and low spots, so i’m guessing the elevation gain was 800’ per lap max.

the roots, most of all, made it a very technical, yet very slow course. there was rarely an occasion where one could build up any speed. technical skills are where i excel, so the course was great practice if not enjoyable.

about halfway through the first lap, i was alone. at times it seemed more like a leisurely ride through the forest rather than an organized race (except for the $25 entry fee and the race number attached to my handlebars). i regularly saw yellow caution tape, so i knew i was still on course. but i pedaled on, concentrating most on technical skills while still moderately challenging my lungs and heart — i kept my HR in the high 160’s to low 170’s.

on lap two, it was more of the same, although i toned it down a notch as i was running out of steam. my arms and hands were also getting numb from the brutal and relentless pounding of the rough trail. there were a few steep climbs that required a dismount, and a couple times i had trouble clipping my shoes back into the pedals. i fiddled around, trying to get my shoes to clip in while simultaneously bounding down the next stretch of rooty descent. with no feet to support me, that left my crotch to handle the blunt force of each drop. oooowwwww….

oh, and i fell once.

on and on i pedaled, crossing the finish line in 1:40:58 (from my HRM). for a 14 miles course, that’s a meager 8.3 mph average. and since this was a fairly low-budget production (non-NORBA sanctioned — that’s a totally different story), there was no official timing device. they simply wrote down our race numbers in the order we came in (i was 16th out of 20 in my class) and awarded points accordingly (60 points for me, 250 points for first place). to race time is kind of like school without grades, although it would have been nice to compare my time with those who were actually in shape. anyway, i collected my points and am already looking forward to the next race in april here in seattle.

i suppose i should start training again.

battle in seattle 2004

is it spring already?

having raced the “battle in seattle” course in seatac last year, i was familiar with its tight turns and limited passing opportunities (both in number and in length). knowing this, i decided that vying for position on the lead-in was the way to go if i wanted get a decent placement. at the starting gun, our mass of 44 riders had a mere 300 yards of cranking hard on asphalt before diving into the singletrack. i gave it my all and found a spot somewhere near the front 1/4 of the line.

the trick then was to keep my position (or better it if possible). however, i quickly found that the pace of those in front of me and immediately behind was a wee-bit more than i could handle. after the starting loop and about halfway through the first lap, i noticed that my heart rate had been almost constantly above my anaerobic threshold — obviously something i couldn’t sustain for any great length of time. i found a nice wide spot in the trail, pulled politely off to the side, and watched almost the entire pack pass me as i sucked wind and fumbled for my gu packets. oh well, first race, i thought. just try to survive and finish.

my heart settled down and i hit the trail again. it became almost leisurely cycling along with no one else around me. i picked a pace that kept my HR just below my AT and just tried to have fun. and that i did!

so rather than killing myself with exersion, i thought i’d work on getting my mountain biking skills back into shape after a trail-less winter. doing so had me wiping out not once, not twice, but three times! the first happened after running up a steep incline. i went for the quick remount, but failed to notice that my tires were on a sandy off-camber slope which sent me immediately to the ground. the second was a tight, very technical section of roots crammed between a group of tree trunks. most riders seemed to be walking it, but i (foolishly) thought i’d go for it. i got hung up about half way through, wedging my bike between two trees and leaving me on the ground once again. and lastly, the 20’ dropoff from last year that ejected me from my bike did the same again this year. last year’s slippery muddy slope was replaced with slippery sand this year. on my first lap, i went full-bore down the slope and quickly realized that i wouldn’t be able to hold much traction. i’m not sure how it happened, but i basically stepped both feet over my handlebars and found myself running down the slope with my bike tumbling wheel-over-wheel behind me. still alive, i guess. the following two laps i navigated the dropoff successfully but oh so cautiously.

the remainder of the ride i simply pedaled until it was over. at 2:02:19.47, i was 41st out of 44 riders in my class. a disappointing result for someone who usually strives for the mid-pack finish, but it was a nice wake-up call saying that i should be a little more religious about my training. and with an age group of 30-39, at 36 i’m definitely feeling like an oldie within my group. maybe i’ll do better when i hit 40!

"greenwater thriller"

the aptly named “greenwater thriller” in greenwater, washington was by far my favorite course of the race series this year. it had a little of everything: a 200 yard sprint on a flat gravel road, a twisty singletrack through a forest carpeted with exposed tree roots, some muddy sections, some rocky sections along a riverbank, a long slow climb up a logging road, a fast but technical downhill section, an unrideable hill, 2 bridge crossings, 2 stream crossings…

the starting gun sent us sprinting along a gravel road, directly towards the pierce county sheriff, who had parked his green and white SUV at the end of the sprint and was clocking us on his radar gun (as well as on each successive lap). he would call out speeds to the announcer, who would broadcast them over the P.A. system. turns out whoever was clocked at the highest speed for the day would win a free bike paint job. i never heard the winning speed, although 28mph was the fastest i heard announced. i also never heard my speed announced, but i doubt it was anywhere close. i got the feeling that it was a cruel joke to entice riders to blow themselves out on the sprint right before starting the more technical and physically gruelling sections of the ride. suckers…

and into the trees we went. on the first lap, there was the usual traffic jam as someone would get hung up on a tree root, denying anyone behind the opportunity to pass. as the first mile and a half was fairly technical, it was pretty much single file riding until the trail dumped out onto a logging road.

from here, the long climb began. i decided to be a little more aggressive about my climbs than usual to try and pass as many riders as i could, which i think eventually paid off. plus the climb was one of the shorter ‘long’ climbs this season, so it didn’t wipe me out as much by the time i reached the top.

at the top, the real fun began. the trail contoured down along a slope, over tree roots, down rock steps, an occasional 2’ high jump. halfway down, the trail turned into a swale in the hillside to present us with a 20’ long stream crossing. the stream was about 6” deep, lined with rocks the size of cantaloupes, had a 90 degree turn around a log halfway through, and exited the stream by hopping over bare, wet tree roots. about half of the riders would dismount and run this section, while the other half would attempt it on two wheels. i’ve always loved technical stream crossings, so i chose the latter option. on my first two laps, i got about 1/2 then 3/4 of the way through before getting hung up on a rock and having to run the rest of the way. but on my third lap, i managed to find a decent line through, up onto the opposite bank. there was a small crowd that had gathered at this point to watch the foibles and soggy crashes. but as i successfully maneuvered the stream, a cheer went up and i was told that i was the first person that day to have gotten all the way through!

but that’s not to say i’m by any means a pro at this stuff (even though none of the pros who had raced previously that day could do it). at the bottom of the downhill section, there was a nice, gently curving section through the forest. at one point, there was another stream crossing. this one was very minor — maybe 3’ across, with an easy entry and exit. on my second lap through here, i approached the stream neglecting to shift down for the climb out of the stream. as i tried to pedal up the small bank on the other side, i didn’t have enough torque to get me over a couple tree roots, and i slowly and rather clumsily fell over to one side still clipped into my pedals into the side of tree while the rider behind me rode over my rear tire.

and one last crisis… about 1/2 a mile from the finish line on my last lap, i was biking along through the trees when all of a sudden a bee flew into one of the air vents in my helmet! it was buzzing around trying to escape, while i freaked out and started hitting myself in the head (rather, hitting my helmet) trying to dislodge it. after being stung by a bee a few weeks earlier on a ride, i had read that sweat actually aggravates bees… and here i was, my head drenched in sweat with a bee stuck inside. but somehow, i managed to slip my hand up under my helmet and the bee escaped before puncturing my skull.

i managed to pass one rider in the last couple hundred yards, sprinting as much as i could to the finish line. this time around, i finished a respectable 13th out of 42 riders! and once again, even though my results are improving, i continue to fall in the point standings for those riders completing at least six races out of the series. ironically, it is entirely possible for me to rally and take first place the finals in august (my next and last race) and still come in dead last place.

another boring success

last weekend’s race in the beautiful methow valley was a grab bag of disappointments — almost missing the 9:30am registration deadline; frantically searching for a checkbook because i forgot to bring cash for the race entry fee; suffering my worst case of pre-race jitters and nausea; and a persistent drivetrain problem on my bike. but that’s not to say i didn’t enjoy it…

oh yeah, and the course was kind of dull too.

the course (3 laps, each 7 miles long with 1000’ of climbing) consisted basically of a long climb up a fireroad punctuated by a couple forays into the trees which looped back to the fireroad, and an essentially non-technical, gently-curving, lightning-fast singletrack descent which, because of the speeds involved, afforded little opportunity for passing. so the race, i think, was pretty much decided on the climbs.

from the starting gun, i found my favorite mid-pack position and tried to find a pace i could sustain up the hill without wiping myself out for the rest of the race. when the course dove briefly into the trees, i discovered that my middle chainring was having severe problems skipping whenever i cranked hard on an uphill. so after repeated explatives, i relinquished myself to avoiding my middle chainring altogether.

at the top of the climb, we dove into the downhill singletrack section, reaching speeds upwards of 35mph, and often times sucking up the dust of a rider just a couple feet in front while trailing blindly behind in his/her dust.

and so it went, up the hill trying to pass as many people as possible (and trying not to be passed), then coasting quite quickly back down to the bottom. pam and alexander formed my support crew and cheered me on while i pedaled gasping up the road (actually alexander slept the whole race so he must have found it dull as well).

while i didn’t feel especially strong this time around, i ended up with my best finish to date in this race series… 18th out of 50 in “sport men 30-39” — almost the top third!!! but i’ve found my mediocrity is working against me. if you remove those riders who are no longer eligible for overall point standings for the series (i.e. they’ve missed more than two races), my current overall standing is 28th out of 35 in my class. oh well, in either case, i’m not taking home any prize money.

next race is the “greenwater thriller”, june 21st in greenwater, washington, just north of mount rainier.

chelan mud - it's light and fluffy

this weekend’s race (WIM #4, chelan mountain bike festival) provided a welcome counterpoint to last weekend’s disappointing (and expensive) mechanical failure. i also exchanged the usual post-race frosting layer of mud for a fine coating of bone-dry dust.

last thursday i purchased a new rear derailleur (and a new chain for good measure), installed them that evening, then used my bicycle commute to work on friday as a test ride. shifting was once again in order and luckily the dropout still seemed to be in proper alignment.

friday evening after work, i loaded up my borrowed minivan with bike, workstand and camping gear and made the four-hour drive to the town of manson on lake chelan. on the way, i stopped a grocery in leavenworth and loaded up with all the carbo-rich foods that sounded appetizing — croissants, jelly-filled doughnuts, molasses cookies, gallon of OJ… i arrived in the race parking lot at midnight and camped in the van.

i woke up well rested at about 7:30, registered for the race, and luckily had some time to take a spin around the course before it closed for the pro race.

the course was pretty much divided into two main sections: a long…. slow…. climb (600’ gain) up a fire road to the top of the hill (did i mention it was long?), followed by some rolling hills at the top of a sagebrushy ridge, then a lightning fast descent via a dry, dusty, heavily washboarded singletrack (mostly) back down to the bottom. three 7-mile laps for the sport class.

after my test lap, i had 3 hours to kill, so i found a decent vantage point to watch the pros go up the climb and later fly back down on nearby singletrack. at the start, these guys were CRANKING up the hill, standing on the pedals! if i tried to set that pace, i’d probaby peter out about a third of the way up, pass out, and then become cougar fodder. not only that, they had a full 4 laps to complete. ugh.

i spent the rest of the time checking my bike over, warming up, stretching, and trying to get over my ubiquitous pre-race jitters. i also tried not to listen to the race announcer on the PA system report how the dust was wreaking havoc on drivetrains — at least three pro riders had DNF’s because of broken chains. hmmm, i think i’ll carry my chain tool for this one…

for the first two laps, i picked a pace that i could easily maintain without bonking. i found the half-up / half-down design of the course worked nicely for recovering on the downs after the ups. by lap three, i mustered enough energy to move one gear above ‘granny’ and picked up the pace. i felt so good at the top of the course that i pulled out all the stops for the ride back down. at one point, my cyclometer clocked me at 47 mph. towards the end of the lap, i managed to pass at least three guys i knew to be in my age group (one due to a wipeout) and came to an anti-climatic finish 1:45 after i started. but i’m thrilled just to have another finish under my belt. results were just posted today. i finished a respectable 21st out of 43 riders in my age group (including 7 DNF’s!)

those long climbs usually get me, but i think this time around some careful pacing really paid off (that, and i’ve been a little more religious about my training in the past few weeks).

i’ve got 4 weeks off until the next WIM race in winthrop, but i might throw in a race or two for fun between now and then…

a slave to physics

NEWTON’S FIRST LAW: a body at rest remains at rest unless acted upon by some external force. a body in motion remains in motion unless acted upon by some external force.

the story of this week’s race (WIM #3, “olympic meltdown”) in port angeles will be a short one….

pam, alexander and i loaded up the family truckster and drove out to port angeles, arriving a mere one hour before my race time. that gave me just enough time to gear up, register, and get a few warm up hills in before the start. pam and i also scoped out a decent spot for her and alexander to see me go by twice during each of 4 laps (about every 10-15 minutes).

while we waited for the start, two events happened which brought back painful memories of my first race this season. a bus in the parking lot, not 15 feet from us, spontaneously blew a coolant hose, spilling gallons of antifreeze onto the ground and sending acrid smoke into the clean olympic air. then, not one minute before the race, a cyclist’s tire spontaneously exploded with a gunshot-like blast, prompting a few racers to believe the starting gun had been fired!

but the race started tamely enough. the real starting gun went off and we started a looonnngggg slow climb up a fire road, which served to spread the racers out nicely before heading into the singletrack. i found my spot cozily in mid-pack as usual.

at the top of the hill, the trail dove into the trees with a steep left-handed drop which turned into a very fast downhill run zig-zagging through the forest. later it emptied into a clearing below some powerlines, back onto a fire road, and a muddy uphill section of singletrack looping back to the start/finish line.

at lap #2, i made the long, slog up the fire road again. i found just enough ‘umph’ to pass two fellows at the top of the hill, before diving once again into the singletrack. on the descent through the steep entry, my front tire kicked up a rock about the size of, oh…, a large grapefruit. with my eyes concetrating on the trail in front of me, i’m not exactly sure of the chain of events that followed. as the rock kicked up, i heard it hit the rim of my rear tire, followed by what sounded like the rock getting wedged in the spokes and rotating with the wheel. there was a loud ‘CLUNK’, then finally just the normal sound of my freewheel as the rock was flung aside. “ok, crisis averted”, i thought.

as i continued downhill on the trial, i began to start pedaling again, only to find that pedaling wasn’t propelling me down the hill any faster. had my chain come off?? i stopped breifly to take a look. no, my chain was still there… but not my rear derailleur! the retaining bolt and a small remnant of the derailleur were still attached to the dropout at the rear axle where they should be, but the bulk of the horribly mangled derailleur was now hanging by the chain around the vicinity of my cranks. hmmm, that’s not right. race over.

luckily i still had two good tires and i was at the top of the race course. i wheeled my bike back up to the fire road and coasted speedily back down as racers inched their way up the fire road in the opposite direction. i went to the start/finish line to check in with a race official. “#186, DNF” i reported glumly.

i walked over to pam’s vantage point where i found her standing on her tip-toes eagerly trying to spot me ahead on the race course. i came up behind her and tapped her shoulder.

i guess all was not lost for the weekend. although i paid a $40 race entry fee and destroyed a $150 derailleur for 30 minutes of racing, at least i got to spend the next two hours quaffing IPA’s at the siren brew-pub in downtown port angeles rather than abusing my body.

the next race is this coming weekend already, in chelan. better get that derailleur fixed…. (photos of the damage to follow soon).

that's more like it!

i think crashing and racing are synonymous. it’s like someone once told me about skiing: “if you’re not falling down, you’re not trying hard enough”.

saturday’s race in beautiful seatac went just a WEE bit more successful than last week’s epic ride (walk). but it makes for a less colorful (and wordy) story… well, almost as wordy.

the race occurred in a strange netherworld environment — somewhere between city park and basic unused urban land. it’s a heavily wooded tract of land immediately at the south end of the seatac airport runways. actually, there’s a golf course immediately south of the runways, which makes perfect sense, then the race area is south of that. besides the trees, there are myriad singletrack trails blanketing the area, punctuated by the ocasional rusting automobile body or pile of excavated concrete and rebar.

the course was probably the most serpentine maze of oxbows i think i’ve ever ridden — no doubt that’s what had to happen to fit a 5-mile lap into the relatively small parcel of land that contained it. i arrived early and managed to squeeze in half of a practice lap to get familiar with the course.

my class (sport men, 30-39) was scheduled to start at 12:30p, for which all of us 30-somethings amassed at the start line at the properly appointed time… only to stand around shivering in the rain and wind for 25 minutes for our delayed start. during the wait, i noticed my heart rate monitor display was fading… and eventually the battery died. not a good omen, i thought.

the gun went off (noticeably BETWEEN 747’s passing dangerously low overhead) and we hit the trail. the bulk of the excitement happened within the first 10 minutes of riding. i was in the middle of the starting pack when all riding abruptly came to a halt (typical seattle traffic, i guess). each one of us eventually was presented with a scene of devestation (at least by mountain biking standards) — a 20 foot dropoff with a handful of riders and bikes strewn willy-nilly here and there on the ground. one by one, we riders in the bottleneck inched our way to said dropoff, making that vital decision: fight or flight. half of the riders ended up dismounting and walking down, the other half stayed firmly upon their steeds and maneuvered through the carnage. i opted for the latter…. but ended up like the carnage. my front tire found a root, which launched me over the handlebars — not an appealing proposition when going downhill. i ejected from my bike and chose a path of trajectory (actually i don’t think i had a choice in the matter) which deposited me on top of a previous victim and his bike. MY bike, consequently, chose a similar path of trajectory, making a jason sandwich between two slices of bicycle. mmmmmm…

of all the crashes i’ve experienced, this is one which, in that period of slow-motion thought whilst flying through the air, i thought would probably end either my life, or my ability to walk or hold a beer in my hands. but following the *OOF*, i (and my partner in sandwich making) exited completely unscathed! no blood, no scratches, no missing bike or body parts.

i returned to the top side of my velocipede and… well, rode around in circles for the next 2 hours. mud, roots, jumps, sand, drops, trees, log jumps, this course had everything. i found a pace and stuck to it with the sole purpose of finishing the race. i stopped about every 3/4 lap to catch my breath, gulp down some ‘gu’ and water, and let my heart rate return to the sub-200’s (at least that’s what it felt like without my HRM). i even managed to redeem myself by successfully maneuvering the aforementioned scene of carnage and devastation on each of the next 3 laps.

the last bit of excitement, though, happened in the last 1/4 mile. with the finish line drawing closer, i found my second (or should i say ‘final’) wind and stepped up the pace. i found myself inching up on a rider whom i knew to be in my age group, so i mustered as much oomph as my throbbing legs were capable of producing at this late stage. we both rounded the final bend as he looked back to see me — at which point we both broke into a mad sprint for the finish line as if we were battling for the win (actually, i’m guessing we were probably about mid-field). i shifted up a gear… which my mud-caked rear cogs didn’t like one bit. he beat me literally by a nose.

we both collapsed in the mud just past the finish line, laughing and gave each other a weak-armed high-five. it turns out he and i were standing next to each other while we waited for the race to start.

for those interested in the numbers, results were just posted today! i’m 32nd out of 65 in my class (including the DNF’s). i usually shoot for the mid-field (striving for mediocrity, y’know) so i’m pretty happy, although i hope to make some improvements as my training continues. i’m a little unhappy, though, that ferdinand flores (the guy i raced to the finish line) posted 1.2 seconds faster than me… it should be more like 0.2 seconds. i wonder if i should file an official grievance with NORBA….???

my next race is in port angeles on the 26th. pam and i were just gifted a new digital video camera, so future races should be well documented with amazing crash footage!

the best and worst ride of my life

it was a good feeling to get back into mountain bike racing after a 3 year hiatus — the taste of mud, the high-speed dodging of trees, the sting of prickly brush scraping my lower legs, the agony of defeat (remember ABC’s wide world of sports???… the ski jumper falling off the end of the ski jump in the opening credits?).

—————

saturday i drove down to the capitol state forest south of olympia for my first race of the season — the “peak to creek #1”. this point-to-point race was billed as a “gravity-assisted cross country race”, as it started with a bus ride to the summit of capitol peak (elev. 2658’), and ended 14 miles later at the middle waddell creek parking lot (elev. 250’). the course was fairly technical singletrack with not much chance for passing, so riders were started at 30 second intervals to spread everyone out.

i was about the 20th rider to start out of about 80 riders. as i hit the trail, i tried to remember when was the last time i had done any serious mountain biking… maybe 2 years ago?! but just like riding a bike, one never forgets… and what luck… i was on a bike! the first couple miles ran through dense forest and consisted of long zig-zaggy and very fast downhill sections, punctuated with 180-degree switchbacks. after about 15 minutes, my forearms were throbbing from squeezing the brakes hard every 2 minutes to maneuver the switchbacks.

twenty minutes into the ride i was feeling good, if somewhat cocky – which cost me dearly. i went into a right-hand turn way too fast, causing me to swing wide and run up against the side of the rutted trail. my front tire dug into the side of the rut, blowing the tire. consequently, with no control over my direction now, i was bucked off my bike and suddenly introduced to a lovely pine tree which helped arrest my forward bike-less motion.

i picked myself up, checked for bleeding, and came to the realization that i had neglected to pack a pump or patch kit. sooooo…. i shrugged my shoulders and began the long walk down the mountain. about every 30 seconds, i’d hear “TRAIL!” or “COMIN’ THROUGH!” yelled to me as i scrambled to pull my bike off the trail to let others pass. this was, after all, a race, so i didn’t want to eat up another rider’s valuable time asking them for assistance to make up for my poor planning.

after walking for about 30 minutes, a kindly samaritan stopped to see if he couldn’t lend a hand. he rooted around in his small backpack for his pump and tire patches but, like me, he was equally unprepared for such a simple repair (unlike me, he had two operable wheels).

before he rode away he offered a suggestion: “try stuffing some shit in it.” i thought briefly about finding a private spot in the forest and dropping trou’, but then i vaguely remembered reading something in a mountain bike magazine long ago. in desperate situations, one could fill one’s tires with leaves and get just enough buoyancy to limp back to civilization. ‘tis worth a try…

i looked around the forest floor and decided ferns were the ticket. the long leafy stalks of two full-grown sword ferns packed nicely into the tire. so much for “leave no trace”. i fastened the wheel back onto the front fork and away i went… for about 10 feet. “i’m going to need a lot more ferns.”

i scrapped that plan and took to hoofing it down the trail again, when another rider stopped. “i’ve tried that before with similar results” he said. he generously loaned me a new tube and his pump on the condition that i find him in the parking lot to return his gear after the race. sounds good to me. as i pulled the useless ferns out of the tire, he sped away trying to make up for the couple minutes he lost helping me.

in a jiffy, i was back on the trail trying to make up for the 45 minutes i had lost. the trail opened up into a clearcut, with smooth, dry and relatively straight hardpack. this lasted about 10 minutes before it dove into the trees and turned muddy and technical again. two or three tight turns later, i found myself ejected from my bike again as my front tire folded out off of the rim, leaving the inner tube fully inflated but now bulging out from underneath the tire. in a flash, i deflated the tube, wrestled the tire back onto the rim, pumped it up again, and pedaled away once more… only to have it do the same thing about 100’ feet later.

upon closer inspection, i found that the wire bead on the tire had been destroyed (probably on crash #2), making it impossible for the tire to stay on the rim, even on a smoothly paved road. i’m fucked.

riders kept passing me in roughly the 30 second start intervals, every now and then asking if i needed assistance. “no, i’m ok” i’d say, waving them on… “not unless you’ve got a spare freakin’ tire on ya” i’d mutter as they disappeared around the bend. after a while it became painfully obvious that i was not being passed anymore.

with about 30 minutes of actual riding, i figure i had enjoyed two-wheeled transportation for about 6 miles… leaving a hefty 8 miles of slippery, muddy and sometimes boggy trail, wheeling my bike by it’s rear tire.

three hours and 41 minutes after i had started the race, i crossed the finish line. eric, the race organizer, was there to hit the stopwatch and write down my time. dead fucking last. luckily he knew the guy that had loaned me the pump and tube

next saturday is a race in beautiful seatac, just south of the airport. i figure it couldn’t be much worse than this one. plus, the course is a 5 mile loop, so worst case scenario i’d have to walk about 2 1/2 miles.