Slept badly last night and even considered skipping the 6:15 a.m. long ride this morning, but by virtue of force of habit and lack of resolve I somehow found myself on the levee anyway. Ahead of a cool front expected this evening, there was strong and gusty South wind blowing warm humid air across the unprotected bike path - ample enough explanation for the anemic turnout of under 10 riders. Every now and then there would be a little blast of cooler air blowing up from the cold water of the Mississippi River. It was exactly like walking past the open door of an air-conditioned shop on a hot summer day. We battled the crosswind pretty much all the way out and all the way back today. There was just enough of an occasional tailwind component on the way out to lure six of us into doing the whole distance, the rest having turned back early.
It's a real challenge to ride in a group on the narrow levee bike path when there's a crosswind like this. The road is wide enough to provide good protection for only the first three or four riders in the eschelon. The rest ride the tightrope at the back, precariously balancing between the edge of the road and the wheel in front. It's like trying to ride a 6-inch wide set of rollers in a crosswind, and under such conditions the rider who takes long pulls at the front is no friend at all to the guys at the back.
On the way back, we finally got a circular paceline going so that nobody would be stuck for too long unprotected at the back, but the level of concentration needed to deal with the paceline (and the one or two guys who never seem to be able to ride a straight line), the gusting winds, and the wheel-hungry drop-off at the edge of the asphalt, takes a bit of the fun out of it. Since I was already feeling lousy anyway, I rode today like a zombie, thankful to have the benefit of Ronnie's ample draft, and communication mostly by way of grunts. Because of the wind, we rode mostly at 20-21 mph, except for the few sections where the road turned briefly downwind and we could easily roll up to 25 or so.
Still, I was glad to have ridden this morning because tomorrow promises to be rather chilly and probably windy as well. I just hope the rain is over so I'm not riding on a worm-infested wet road tomorrow morning!
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Monday, November 29, 2004
Sweet Fall Ride
We were promised classic Fall weather for Sunday's training ride, and, for once, the Weather Gods delivered. I drove over to Starbuck's and picked up a coffee before heading over to the Morning Call where we were to meet. The little cup of Cafe au Lait from the Morning Call just doesn't do it for me sometimes and the fact that they have the nerve to charge the same amount for a lot less than even Starbucks kind of rubs me the wrong way too. As usual, my kidneys and I were on a caffeine high for the next couple of hours.
Nobody there.
There was a group going up to St. Francisville for a training ride the same day, and of course the holidays have disrupted a lot of riders' training routines, so I headed out to the Causeway for the 24-mile drive across the water alone. The tape player in the Volvo is on the blink lately, having recently devoured a couple of inches of The Doors Greatest Hits, so it took a while to find something on the radio on a Sunday morning that wasn't another lame public service talk show.
At Abita Springs, we had a nice group of 9 0r 10 riders by the time we started, and I bundled up a bit against the 47 degree wind, knowing that the vest, at least, would soon be in my pocket.
This group was really in easy paceline mood today, and as we rolled through the Fall countryside the conversation stopped as riders were content to soak in the sunshine and scenery. There hasn't been a freeze on the Northshore yet this Fall, so there was still a lot of green. We did a few little town sign sprints and that sort of thing, of course, but in general the pace stayed in the low 20's, low enough to keep our one woman in contact except when we would surge for a mile or two. Everyone was happy to ease up and wait a few seconds at the intersections so she could latch back on, though.
We finished up with around 67 miles and back at the car I kept looking for Christine to come around the corner, since she had come off the back for the last time with only about 7 mi. to go. "She should have been back by now" one rider said as we loaded up the cars, and it was another few minutes before she finally appeared, having taken a wrong turn and done a few bonus miles near the end.
There's an article on the VeloNews site about Joey D. at http://www.velonews.com/news/fea/7245.0.html discussing the drug testing situation. Interesting. For the past month or so I have sensed a slight shift in attitude among many cyclists. Perhaps the USADA and WADA aren't infallible after all (duh!).
Nobody there.
There was a group going up to St. Francisville for a training ride the same day, and of course the holidays have disrupted a lot of riders' training routines, so I headed out to the Causeway for the 24-mile drive across the water alone. The tape player in the Volvo is on the blink lately, having recently devoured a couple of inches of The Doors Greatest Hits, so it took a while to find something on the radio on a Sunday morning that wasn't another lame public service talk show.
At Abita Springs, we had a nice group of 9 0r 10 riders by the time we started, and I bundled up a bit against the 47 degree wind, knowing that the vest, at least, would soon be in my pocket.
This group was really in easy paceline mood today, and as we rolled through the Fall countryside the conversation stopped as riders were content to soak in the sunshine and scenery. There hasn't been a freeze on the Northshore yet this Fall, so there was still a lot of green. We did a few little town sign sprints and that sort of thing, of course, but in general the pace stayed in the low 20's, low enough to keep our one woman in contact except when we would surge for a mile or two. Everyone was happy to ease up and wait a few seconds at the intersections so she could latch back on, though.
We finished up with around 67 miles and back at the car I kept looking for Christine to come around the corner, since she had come off the back for the last time with only about 7 mi. to go. "She should have been back by now" one rider said as we loaded up the cars, and it was another few minutes before she finally appeared, having taken a wrong turn and done a few bonus miles near the end.
There's an article on the VeloNews site about Joey D. at http://www.velonews.com/news/fea/7245.0.html discussing the drug testing situation. Interesting. For the past month or so I have sensed a slight shift in attitude among many cyclists. Perhaps the USADA and WADA aren't infallible after all (duh!).
Saturday, November 27, 2004
Drenched
We've had a bit of everything over the last few days! Thursday morning was chilly, but there were a lot of riders out on the levee. One new rider was in the group. He recently moved here from France (he's Dutch) where he was an active bike racer. His wife works for the French Cousulate here in New Orleans. He was asking about getting his USCF license and, not yet knowing his racing experience, I assured him that he would certainly not be assigned to Cat. 5, and that even if he were to be assigned to Cat. 4 we could probably get him upgraded right away to Cat.3. After listening him discuss his racing experience with Kenny (who raced in Belgium for a while) it was clear that he is more likely to be Cat. 2 or Cat. 1. Anyway, we had a great Thanksgiving morning ride. I spent the next 12 hours eating and drinking wine in the finest Thanksgiving tradition, and ended the day over at Kenny's house with Gina and her friend watching a DVD of Conan O'Brein show segments of the "insult dog." Funny stuff!
My brother and his family was in town from Orlando (and Tallahassee and Jackson) Thursday and Friday. On friday, after a nice easy training ride, we ended up having to drive The WIfe's mom back to Baton Rouge, which as usual ended up including lunch and a trip to Wal-Mart. At least I got a new $10 hair dryer, since our old one has burned out one of its heading circuits and wasn't drying too well.
So this morning I got up a little early and checked the weather radar. It looked bad. A big line of strong thunderstorms ahead of a cold front was about 80 miles West of us and heading this way fast. I seriously considered bagging it and heading back to bet. It was still pretty warm here, though, so I put on shoe-covers and an extra jersey, stuffed a pair of arm-warmers into my pocket, and headed out to the lakefront. There was a group of about 25 there as we headed out. I was figuring we'd turn around early, and I was absolutely sure I'd be riding home in the rain. We made it down to the end of Hayne Blvd. before the first raindrops started to fall. A group of riders turned around right away. We went another mile or so and a couple of us split off to head back by way of the service road. The remaining 10 riders or so kept going, and I wonder if they did the whole ride. As we rode back the raindrops got larger and we were soon in a steady light rain. It wasn't too cold though, and traffic was very light, so it wasn't too bad. About a mile before we got back to where the ride starts my friend flatted, but since it was raining pretty heavily, he just rode it in. I still had a 6-mile ride back home and within a couple of minutes the rain really started to come down hard. I was glad I had stopped to put on my arm warmers and to zip up my jerseys as I navigated my way through the flooding streets. I was absolutely soaked to the skin by the time I got home, but since the temperature never got much below 70F, it wasn't too bad. I wiped the bike down and pulled the seatopost out to check for water in the frame, but it was nice and dry.
Tomorrow I'll do a training ride across the lake and I'm expecting the weather to be rather nice.
My brother and his family was in town from Orlando (and Tallahassee and Jackson) Thursday and Friday. On friday, after a nice easy training ride, we ended up having to drive The WIfe's mom back to Baton Rouge, which as usual ended up including lunch and a trip to Wal-Mart. At least I got a new $10 hair dryer, since our old one has burned out one of its heading circuits and wasn't drying too well.
So this morning I got up a little early and checked the weather radar. It looked bad. A big line of strong thunderstorms ahead of a cold front was about 80 miles West of us and heading this way fast. I seriously considered bagging it and heading back to bet. It was still pretty warm here, though, so I put on shoe-covers and an extra jersey, stuffed a pair of arm-warmers into my pocket, and headed out to the lakefront. There was a group of about 25 there as we headed out. I was figuring we'd turn around early, and I was absolutely sure I'd be riding home in the rain. We made it down to the end of Hayne Blvd. before the first raindrops started to fall. A group of riders turned around right away. We went another mile or so and a couple of us split off to head back by way of the service road. The remaining 10 riders or so kept going, and I wonder if they did the whole ride. As we rode back the raindrops got larger and we were soon in a steady light rain. It wasn't too cold though, and traffic was very light, so it wasn't too bad. About a mile before we got back to where the ride starts my friend flatted, but since it was raining pretty heavily, he just rode it in. I still had a 6-mile ride back home and within a couple of minutes the rain really started to come down hard. I was glad I had stopped to put on my arm warmers and to zip up my jerseys as I navigated my way through the flooding streets. I was absolutely soaked to the skin by the time I got home, but since the temperature never got much below 70F, it wasn't too bad. I wiped the bike down and pulled the seatopost out to check for water in the frame, but it was nice and dry.
Tomorrow I'll do a training ride across the lake and I'm expecting the weather to be rather nice.
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Change is in the Air
It stormed early this morning. Thunder, lightning, even a tornado or two nearby. By 4:30 a.m. I had already switched off the alarm.
By 9 a.m. it was already clearing and the wind has, finally, shifted almost 180 degrees. It's blowing steadily out of the North now and cooler, drier weather is coming. About freaking time. I had the a/c running at the house again last night. Still, the forecast isn't calling for any really cold weather. It will dip down to maybe the upper 40s around here at night, but most likely we won't be firing up the central heat until some time in December. We have an old "unvented" gas heater in the living room, sort of built into the opening of the old coal-burning fireplace. It's the kind with the ceramic back that starts to glow red when it gets heated up. That one little heater can keep most of the house comfortable until the temperatures start to stay under 50 for extended periods of time, so we often prefer to use it rather than turn on the big old central heater down in the basement. That monstrosity was installed long before we owned the house. It resides in the spot where the original coal-burning furnace must have been. You can still find bits of coal scattered around down there. I am quite certain that the whole arrangement would send any good heating/air-conditioning expert into immediate cardiac arrest.
The timing of this change in the weather couldn't be better. With Thanksgiving tomorrow, people are starting to slip into the holiday mood. At the University, it always seems that people start kicking back a few days before any holiday. It's almost certain that by the time we're half-way through December most meaningful work around here will cease. The phones will stop ringing, the faculty will start to disappear, and the days will start to seem longer and longer. In fact, it's after 11 a.m. right now and my office phone hasn't rung once all morning!! Of course, I wouldn't mind hearing from those guys at Data Systems who were working on my computer and were supposed to return yesterday. I spend the better part of yesterday trying to get everything more or less back to normal, but some things are still kind of screwy.
By 9 a.m. it was already clearing and the wind has, finally, shifted almost 180 degrees. It's blowing steadily out of the North now and cooler, drier weather is coming. About freaking time. I had the a/c running at the house again last night. Still, the forecast isn't calling for any really cold weather. It will dip down to maybe the upper 40s around here at night, but most likely we won't be firing up the central heat until some time in December. We have an old "unvented" gas heater in the living room, sort of built into the opening of the old coal-burning fireplace. It's the kind with the ceramic back that starts to glow red when it gets heated up. That one little heater can keep most of the house comfortable until the temperatures start to stay under 50 for extended periods of time, so we often prefer to use it rather than turn on the big old central heater down in the basement. That monstrosity was installed long before we owned the house. It resides in the spot where the original coal-burning furnace must have been. You can still find bits of coal scattered around down there. I am quite certain that the whole arrangement would send any good heating/air-conditioning expert into immediate cardiac arrest.
The timing of this change in the weather couldn't be better. With Thanksgiving tomorrow, people are starting to slip into the holiday mood. At the University, it always seems that people start kicking back a few days before any holiday. It's almost certain that by the time we're half-way through December most meaningful work around here will cease. The phones will stop ringing, the faculty will start to disappear, and the days will start to seem longer and longer. In fact, it's after 11 a.m. right now and my office phone hasn't rung once all morning!! Of course, I wouldn't mind hearing from those guys at Data Systems who were working on my computer and were supposed to return yesterday. I spend the better part of yesterday trying to get everything more or less back to normal, but some things are still kind of screwy.
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Summertime in November
Man it's been warm and humid around here, which seems to be great weather for worms and mosquitoes, both of which tried to be intimate with my person this morning. As we were waiting on the levee in the early-morning dawn for the rest of the group to arrive, someone said something about mosquitoes. I looked down and found about ten of the little blood-suckers happily gourging themselves on my legs. Luckily, we took off soon after for the Tuesday long training ride.
After a mile or two, as I'm riding along with Rob, I realized that the group had dropped way back. We were zooming along at all of 16 or 17 mph, and I commented that they sure were going slow today. A little while later, The Howard showed up, having bridged up from the group. I found out later that someone in the group had a flat. Anyway, the next to arrive was Matt and soon after the pace started to increase. We were doing around 24 or so, except when The Howard would come to the front and try to nudge us up to 27 or so. Nobody was willing to play, though, so The Howard kept rolling off the front of our little group and then sitting up with a frustrated look and dropping back. This continued pretty much all the way to the turnaround when we slowed way down and waited for the group to catch.
The ride back was similar, with four or five on the front and The Howard trying to push the pace. Eventually it flipped my "race switch," and I started pulling a bit harder, which wasn't all that impressive considering that we had a lot more tailwind on the way back than we had on the way out.
Once again, there were road worms all over everything. I felt one on my face (got that one off in a hurry) and had a few of them on my legs and more stuck to the bike. I ended up just taking the garden hose to the bike when I got home.
We had our club meeting last night at a local restaurant where I had a nice Catfish Po-boy, and it was nice. I guess about 20 or 25 people showed up and we installed the new officers for the year. Laura and Robin handled a little sale of discounted jerseys from last season. I need to see if they have anything left that will fit me or The Daughter, since I forgot to bring any money to the meeting. The most exciting thing, to me, is having Charlie D. taking on the new Racing Director position. He'll be in charge of organizing training rides and getting good participation at races and that sort of thing.
From all accounts, summertime will be ending, again, tonight and it will get a bit cooler for Thanksgiving weekend. Not cold, mind you, but a little cooler. It was so warm last night that I ended turning on the air conditioner.
After a mile or two, as I'm riding along with Rob, I realized that the group had dropped way back. We were zooming along at all of 16 or 17 mph, and I commented that they sure were going slow today. A little while later, The Howard showed up, having bridged up from the group. I found out later that someone in the group had a flat. Anyway, the next to arrive was Matt and soon after the pace started to increase. We were doing around 24 or so, except when The Howard would come to the front and try to nudge us up to 27 or so. Nobody was willing to play, though, so The Howard kept rolling off the front of our little group and then sitting up with a frustrated look and dropping back. This continued pretty much all the way to the turnaround when we slowed way down and waited for the group to catch.
The ride back was similar, with four or five on the front and The Howard trying to push the pace. Eventually it flipped my "race switch," and I started pulling a bit harder, which wasn't all that impressive considering that we had a lot more tailwind on the way back than we had on the way out.
Once again, there were road worms all over everything. I felt one on my face (got that one off in a hurry) and had a few of them on my legs and more stuck to the bike. I ended up just taking the garden hose to the bike when I got home.
We had our club meeting last night at a local restaurant where I had a nice Catfish Po-boy, and it was nice. I guess about 20 or 25 people showed up and we installed the new officers for the year. Laura and Robin handled a little sale of discounted jerseys from last season. I need to see if they have anything left that will fit me or The Daughter, since I forgot to bring any money to the meeting. The most exciting thing, to me, is having Charlie D. taking on the new Racing Director position. He'll be in charge of organizing training rides and getting good participation at races and that sort of thing.
From all accounts, summertime will be ending, again, tonight and it will get a bit cooler for Thanksgiving weekend. Not cold, mind you, but a little cooler. It was so warm last night that I ended turning on the air conditioner.
Monday, November 22, 2004
Road Worms - Edited
Just what's the deal with these nasty little annelids anyway? Every now and then when it has been raining and the humidity is high, certain sections of the bike path will be covered with these little slimy worms. They get thrown up onto your bike and your body as you ride and if you don't remove them before they dry out, they stick like glue to your bike. This morning it was warm, humid and foggy on the bike path. Perfect conditions for road worms. I even had one get thrown up onto my face. Yeech!
=======
OK, so I eventually went searching on Google for an answer, rather than doing any actual research on the subject, and came up with two opposing theories. The first is that the worms are trying to avoid drowning when their burrows fill up with water. Plausible enough if it weren't for the fact that worms don't have lungs and are quite capable of surviving underwater. The second, and perhaps more likely, theory seems to be that (a) it's the only time they can get onto the pavement since they need sufficient moisture in order to move around, and (b) they are out looking for other worms with whom to copulate, which is difficult to do in a worm burrow (or the back seat of a 57 Chevy). Group worm sex. Right there on our bike path!
=======
OK, so I eventually went searching on Google for an answer, rather than doing any actual research on the subject, and came up with two opposing theories. The first is that the worms are trying to avoid drowning when their burrows fill up with water. Plausible enough if it weren't for the fact that worms don't have lungs and are quite capable of surviving underwater. The second, and perhaps more likely, theory seems to be that (a) it's the only time they can get onto the pavement since they need sufficient moisture in order to move around, and (b) they are out looking for other worms with whom to copulate, which is difficult to do in a worm burrow (or the back seat of a 57 Chevy). Group worm sex. Right there on our bike path!
Sunday, November 21, 2004
The Weather Gods Smile
It was looking pretty bleak for the Sunday training ride. Saturday's Giro had been washed out completely, and I spent the rest of the day looking out window at grey skies and wet streets, eating Oreos and generally whatever else was in the pantry that didn't require cooking. The forecast for Sunday was calling for a 60% chance of rain.
I got up a little early this morning and checked the radar on the Weather Channel. Three times. It was, basically, inconclusive. Like those satellite photos from Iraq showing the weapons of mass destruction. No way to predict where it would be raining and where it wouldn't, but it was definitely not raining anywhere on our route by 6:30 a.m., so I topped up the tires and headed out the door. Kaboom! The rear tire exploded as I'm walking out the house, so I pulled the tire and tube off my racing wheel, put them on my training wheel and then had to rush out to the Morning Call to meet whatever group of optimists might be there.
As it turned out, we ended up with 11 riders at the start, with a few turning back early for various reasons. For the first half of the 67 mile route, the skies didn't look bad at all. We even got a little sunshine now and then, but around the mid-point the streets were good and wet, like it had just finished raining. After a brief stop at a store in Folsom, LA, we spend 15 miles or so on wet roads with some very light rain. It was enough to spray water and grit all over everything, but not quite enough to soak through your socks and make your feet wet. I had stashed a couple of light shoe-covers in my pocket at the start, but never stopped to put them on. For the last 10 miles or so we had nice mostly dry roads and warmer temperatures. The pace got a bit faster, too. It was probably close to 78F by the time we finished. Only two flats - not bad considering all the riding on wet roads today. All in all, it was a great ride. I'm glad I didn't let the threat of rain force me to cancel it.
This time, the weather gods smiled on us. Actually, they messed with us a little bit just for fun, but I think they were smiling while they were doing it!
I got up a little early this morning and checked the radar on the Weather Channel. Three times. It was, basically, inconclusive. Like those satellite photos from Iraq showing the weapons of mass destruction. No way to predict where it would be raining and where it wouldn't, but it was definitely not raining anywhere on our route by 6:30 a.m., so I topped up the tires and headed out the door. Kaboom! The rear tire exploded as I'm walking out the house, so I pulled the tire and tube off my racing wheel, put them on my training wheel and then had to rush out to the Morning Call to meet whatever group of optimists might be there.
As it turned out, we ended up with 11 riders at the start, with a few turning back early for various reasons. For the first half of the 67 mile route, the skies didn't look bad at all. We even got a little sunshine now and then, but around the mid-point the streets were good and wet, like it had just finished raining. After a brief stop at a store in Folsom, LA, we spend 15 miles or so on wet roads with some very light rain. It was enough to spray water and grit all over everything, but not quite enough to soak through your socks and make your feet wet. I had stashed a couple of light shoe-covers in my pocket at the start, but never stopped to put them on. For the last 10 miles or so we had nice mostly dry roads and warmer temperatures. The pace got a bit faster, too. It was probably close to 78F by the time we finished. Only two flats - not bad considering all the riding on wet roads today. All in all, it was a great ride. I'm glad I didn't let the threat of rain force me to cancel it.
This time, the weather gods smiled on us. Actually, they messed with us a little bit just for fun, but I think they were smiling while they were doing it!
Friday, November 19, 2004
What a Day!
It was a good thing that I ventured out this morning despite the rather heavy fog and got in a nice ride even though I had to stop once to fix a flat tire. Why? Well, it's because the rest of the day was pretty much downhill from there. First, I find out that that $499 charge that appeared on my bank statement, that I had thought was from the hotel, wasn't. It was some kind of fraud or, to put in it's kindest light, mistake. The charge was from some company in New York that issues certificates of authority for computer systems. So I had to call the bank, fill out a "statement of dispute," fax it back to them, and have them cancel and re-issue my debit card. Of course my account probably won't be credited for three days and I won't get my new debit card for about a week. Isn't that just great?
As if that wasn't enough, I had two of the networking guys up here working on my computer for a few hours trying to fix the mess they created. It is still not right, of course, and they managed to lose all of my WS-FTP IDs and Passwords and connection information, along with most of the non-default configuration information for practically every piece of software on the machine. I had to completely reinstall Adobe Acrobat, Palm Desktop and the sync conduits for Meetingmaker, etc. At least the blasted thing is usable again, but I am NOT a happy camper by any stretch of imagination.
Last night one of our club members who had been the secretary/treasurer for years before moving to Houston sent out an email to the club list about how she was withdrawing her name from the list of candidates. She wrote: "Unfortunately, after being contacted by current leadership and exchanging ideas... We'll find some position for you (so you will shut up), does not sit well at this time. So it is with much sadness and disappointment that I am withdrawing my name in the upcoming "election"?/appointments."
This was rather bizarre. She was certainly welcome to run for office if she wanted. The president had, however, already asked other people to run for the offices because he wants to get some new blood in there, which I certainly support. It's not like we ever have people begging to be club officers. Quite the contrary. The President sent out a request for nominations, and as usual, received none. So a few of the more active riders have been talked into running for the various offices. But for this person to think that other people in the club don't like her or that there is some sort of conspiracy against her is just wierd, and sending it out to the whole e-mail list is even more wierd. Anyway, I don't get it. It's just a little bike club, not the United Nations.
As if that wasn't enough, I had two of the networking guys up here working on my computer for a few hours trying to fix the mess they created. It is still not right, of course, and they managed to lose all of my WS-FTP IDs and Passwords and connection information, along with most of the non-default configuration information for practically every piece of software on the machine. I had to completely reinstall Adobe Acrobat, Palm Desktop and the sync conduits for Meetingmaker, etc. At least the blasted thing is usable again, but I am NOT a happy camper by any stretch of imagination.
Last night one of our club members who had been the secretary/treasurer for years before moving to Houston sent out an email to the club list about how she was withdrawing her name from the list of candidates. She wrote: "Unfortunately, after being contacted by current leadership and exchanging ideas... We'll find some position for you (so you will shut up), does not sit well at this time. So it is with much sadness and disappointment that I am withdrawing my name in the upcoming "election"?/appointments."
This was rather bizarre. She was certainly welcome to run for office if she wanted. The president had, however, already asked other people to run for the offices because he wants to get some new blood in there, which I certainly support. It's not like we ever have people begging to be club officers. Quite the contrary. The President sent out a request for nominations, and as usual, received none. So a few of the more active riders have been talked into running for the various offices. But for this person to think that other people in the club don't like her or that there is some sort of conspiracy against her is just wierd, and sending it out to the whole e-mail list is even more wierd. Anyway, I don't get it. It's just a little bike club, not the United Nations.
Thursday, November 18, 2004
A Quick Ride and a Sneaky Hotel
The cloudy skies kept it dark a bit later than usual this morning and when I arrived to meet the group on the levee, I was the only one there. The streets were a little damp from an earlier sprinkling of rain, and I guess everyone had seen the big clump of green on the radar that was heading our way. Still, it didn't look too bad so I rolled out alone and was met after a couple of miles by Robin, Chris and a couple of other guys. In light of the small group, impending rain and strong winds, we decided to forgo the usual Thursday long ride and instead did the usual shorter ride, which landed me back home in time to catch a ride to work with The Wife. Even so, our little paceline was working pretty hard to maintain 22 mph into that wind on the way back. I'm glad I got in a few miles today, though, because the forecast for the next few days is not looking too good. Lots of rain is expected, but winter temperatures are nowhere in sight. It was nearly 70F this morning. I guess I shouldn't complain too much. I think I'd rather ride in our 70-degree drizzle than in the sub-freezing sleet that a lot of folks get this time of year.
I'm rather miffed right now at the Windham hotel in Boston where The Wife stayed for a few nights earlier this month. The hotel bill was supposed to be charged to the master account for the meeting organization (which I didn't know until yesterday). I had noticed the charge appearing on my online bank transaction report about a week and a half ago, and was expecting that we would get a reimbursement. When I asked The Wife about it last night, she said that there shouldn't have been anything charged to our account at all except for $30 or so. Well, when I checked back, I found that the hotel had charged the room to my account (along with the $30) to the tune of nearly $600. Then, yesterday, they had credited it back to my account (so they had it for about a week). I could live with that, but what really ticked me off was than in-between the debit and the credit, they had charged another $400 to the account, for which, of course, there has been no credit (or explanation). Typical Hotel BS. I swear, I think they do this stuff on purpose. So the bottom line is that they completely screwed everything up, have had up to $1,000 of mine that they never should have had, and now we're going to have to get the whole mess straightened out ourselves. It was a small miracle that it didn't overdraft my bank account, mainly because I had been holding off on paying some (overdue) bills until I saw the expected reimbursement. Geez. At this rate we'll be eating Thanksgiving dinner at McDonald's - from the super value menu.
I'm rather miffed right now at the Windham hotel in Boston where The Wife stayed for a few nights earlier this month. The hotel bill was supposed to be charged to the master account for the meeting organization (which I didn't know until yesterday). I had noticed the charge appearing on my online bank transaction report about a week and a half ago, and was expecting that we would get a reimbursement. When I asked The Wife about it last night, she said that there shouldn't have been anything charged to our account at all except for $30 or so. Well, when I checked back, I found that the hotel had charged the room to my account (along with the $30) to the tune of nearly $600. Then, yesterday, they had credited it back to my account (so they had it for about a week). I could live with that, but what really ticked me off was than in-between the debit and the credit, they had charged another $400 to the account, for which, of course, there has been no credit (or explanation). Typical Hotel BS. I swear, I think they do this stuff on purpose. So the bottom line is that they completely screwed everything up, have had up to $1,000 of mine that they never should have had, and now we're going to have to get the whole mess straightened out ourselves. It was a small miracle that it didn't overdraft my bank account, mainly because I had been holding off on paying some (overdue) bills until I saw the expected reimbursement. Geez. At this rate we'll be eating Thanksgiving dinner at McDonald's - from the super value menu.
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
Strange Ride
A bit warmer and quite nice this morning. The clouds that have enveloped the area for the past three or four days have finally broken up and we can see the sun again, but it was hard getting out of bed for some reason. I lay there in the dark, my 10-minute "get out the door" window ticking away on the nightstand, contemplating my options. Perhaps I should listen to that little voice telling me to skip the long ride today. Finally, with just a few minutes to spare, I brushed the lazy thoughts away and headed for the bike, gulping down a cookie on the way.
I was a little overdressed and I knew it, but the biggest challenge for me this time of year is getting out the door and on the road, and if an extra jersey and arm-warmers will do the trick, that's just fine. They can always go into the pockets later. What you'll remember the next morning when you repeat this little routine isn't how warm you were at the end of your ride, but how cold you were for the first two miles. To coin a phrase (with apologies to Teddy), when dealing with Winter, "dress warmly but carry a big pocket."
There was a lower turnout for the popular Tuesday morning long ride than usual today, and for some reason I was in no mood to have my pace dictated by someone else. A few of us rolled along at the front slowly, maybe 21 mph or so. We had to stop for a second to let a line of dumptrucks cross the levee and one of the guys asked if we should wait up for the rest of the group. I looked back and said there was no need, they would be on us soon enough. It stayed together after that and the pace stayed fairly slow all the way to the turnaround. As we started on the return trip, there was this idea to do a smooth circular paceline at around 20 mph. Damn, but it got squirrelly. Robin remarked at one point that these guys get more squirrelly the slower they go, and he was right. Although there was a significant headwind, we would have done better at 22 mph. As it was, almost every time I would take one of those very short "circular paceline" type pulls, there would be this long delay before anyone would come through. Geez, I was only going like 21 mph.
It was like the whole pack had gone passive-aggressive on me.
Toward the end of the ride, it happened again to the guy who had been behind me as he took his pull and then pulled over, so I moved in to fill the gap and took another pull to keep the pace the same. Three or four of us immediately separated from the group and for the last mile or two finally achieved a smooth paceline. I dunno, I am usually pretty tolerant of inconsistent riding in the pack, but for some reason it really started getting to me this morning.
On another note, I see that the new movie "Pro" is now available. There have been a couple of articles - interviews actually - about it on The Daily Peloton, and I think I might just have to get me a copy. It's done by the same guys who did "The Hard Road." Anyway, for any of you with bike racing significant others, this would probably make a nice Christmas present!
Yes, Christmas is coming. Every year it reminds me of the elegantly written line from a Peter Dickenson novel:
"The threat of Christmas hung in the air, visible already in the fretful look of passersby as they readied themselves for the meaningless but necessary rites of false jovialities and ill-considered gifts. "
Not that I dislike the holidays, you understand, but I can relate.
I was a little overdressed and I knew it, but the biggest challenge for me this time of year is getting out the door and on the road, and if an extra jersey and arm-warmers will do the trick, that's just fine. They can always go into the pockets later. What you'll remember the next morning when you repeat this little routine isn't how warm you were at the end of your ride, but how cold you were for the first two miles. To coin a phrase (with apologies to Teddy), when dealing with Winter, "dress warmly but carry a big pocket."
There was a lower turnout for the popular Tuesday morning long ride than usual today, and for some reason I was in no mood to have my pace dictated by someone else. A few of us rolled along at the front slowly, maybe 21 mph or so. We had to stop for a second to let a line of dumptrucks cross the levee and one of the guys asked if we should wait up for the rest of the group. I looked back and said there was no need, they would be on us soon enough. It stayed together after that and the pace stayed fairly slow all the way to the turnaround. As we started on the return trip, there was this idea to do a smooth circular paceline at around 20 mph. Damn, but it got squirrelly. Robin remarked at one point that these guys get more squirrelly the slower they go, and he was right. Although there was a significant headwind, we would have done better at 22 mph. As it was, almost every time I would take one of those very short "circular paceline" type pulls, there would be this long delay before anyone would come through. Geez, I was only going like 21 mph.
It was like the whole pack had gone passive-aggressive on me.
Toward the end of the ride, it happened again to the guy who had been behind me as he took his pull and then pulled over, so I moved in to fill the gap and took another pull to keep the pace the same. Three or four of us immediately separated from the group and for the last mile or two finally achieved a smooth paceline. I dunno, I am usually pretty tolerant of inconsistent riding in the pack, but for some reason it really started getting to me this morning.
On another note, I see that the new movie "Pro" is now available. There have been a couple of articles - interviews actually - about it on The Daily Peloton, and I think I might just have to get me a copy. It's done by the same guys who did "The Hard Road." Anyway, for any of you with bike racing significant others, this would probably make a nice Christmas present!
Yes, Christmas is coming. Every year it reminds me of the elegantly written line from a Peter Dickenson novel:
"The threat of Christmas hung in the air, visible already in the fretful look of passersby as they readied themselves for the meaningless but necessary rites of false jovialities and ill-considered gifts. "
Not that I dislike the holidays, you understand, but I can relate.
Sunday, November 14, 2004
LSD and the Guerilla Dog
It was cloudy and still a bit windy this morning, but that didn't stop a dozen of us from having a great "long, slow, distance" (LSD) winter training ride this morning. My feelings of impending holidays were strengthened by the recent appearance of Christmas tree lots and, particularly out in the country, yards full of Wal-Mart style light-up holiday lawn decorations. The holiday season is, for me, a particularly bipolar experience of fiscal dread in constant conflict with social exuberance. In other words, I have a hard time letting myself enjoy it very much, so it's always a little uncomfortable having to face the holiday pre-season icons of plastic Santas and excited sales pitches.
I had intentionally selected a rather oval route that had long stretches of east-west riding in order to minimize the effect of the predominantly North wind. As it turned out, though, the wind was never much of a factor. While the weather on the south shore of Lake Pontchartrain stayed misty and clammy, our route, which was 40-60 miles North of the city, was treated to much nicer weather, including a little bit of much-appreciated sunshine. As planned, the pace was smooth and moderate, which wasn't hard to maintain with our small group of similarly capable and experienced riders. It was really great being out on the old country roads I've come to know so well.
We were only about 10 miles from the end of our 65-mile ride when we turned onto one of the small country roads that the local Northshore guys use as part of their regular weekday training rides. As we approached a small cluster of homes set far back from the road, we spotted three dogs on an intercept trajectory for the tail end of our group. We sped up just a bit and so the chasers were only a problem for a few of us at the back of the group. As we got out of their home territory, Mike, Branden and I were looking back at the slowing dogs as Mike was calling one of them an "old fattie." At just that moment, we were ambushed by an enormous black dog who had been waiting for us in the bushes. This monster almost bounced off of Branden as we went by, catching the three of us completely by surprise. It was only Branden's mountain biking skills that kept him from becoming dog chow. This whole episode was disturbingly similar to a military operation worthy of the Army Special Services. I'm sure these dogs must have been plotting the three-dog diversionary tactic in order to maximize the effectiveness of the monster black dog hidden in the bushes!
So a great winter training ride today with lots of LSD and a few town sign 90% effort sign sprints thrown in for fun.
I had intentionally selected a rather oval route that had long stretches of east-west riding in order to minimize the effect of the predominantly North wind. As it turned out, though, the wind was never much of a factor. While the weather on the south shore of Lake Pontchartrain stayed misty and clammy, our route, which was 40-60 miles North of the city, was treated to much nicer weather, including a little bit of much-appreciated sunshine. As planned, the pace was smooth and moderate, which wasn't hard to maintain with our small group of similarly capable and experienced riders. It was really great being out on the old country roads I've come to know so well.
We were only about 10 miles from the end of our 65-mile ride when we turned onto one of the small country roads that the local Northshore guys use as part of their regular weekday training rides. As we approached a small cluster of homes set far back from the road, we spotted three dogs on an intercept trajectory for the tail end of our group. We sped up just a bit and so the chasers were only a problem for a few of us at the back of the group. As we got out of their home territory, Mike, Branden and I were looking back at the slowing dogs as Mike was calling one of them an "old fattie." At just that moment, we were ambushed by an enormous black dog who had been waiting for us in the bushes. This monster almost bounced off of Branden as we went by, catching the three of us completely by surprise. It was only Branden's mountain biking skills that kept him from becoming dog chow. This whole episode was disturbingly similar to a military operation worthy of the Army Special Services. I'm sure these dogs must have been plotting the three-dog diversionary tactic in order to maximize the effectiveness of the monster black dog hidden in the bushes!
So a great winter training ride today with lots of LSD and a few town sign 90% effort sign sprints thrown in for fun.
Saturday, November 13, 2004
Chilled
It wasn't so much the temperature this morning, it was the wind. On a nice sunny day, 50-55F can be quite pleasant for cycling, but this morning it was anything but sunny. There was a 20-30 mph wind blowing in from the North and the skies were thick and gray with November clouds. I put on two jerseys and a pair of arm-warmers, and suck a sheet of newspaper between the jerseys. At the last minute, I grabbed my vest. I was glad I did.
Arriving at the lakefront, I was surprised to see a big turnout for the Giro ride. It was cold when we started, but once the pace picked up a bit, I stuffed the vest in my pocket and before the turn-around I had also taken the newspaper out from under my jersey. It was windy enough that riding in the group required extra vigilance. The pace was unsteady and the gusty winds were blowing guys around a little bit, which can be a recipe for crashes.
On the return trip the pace slowed way down and there was lots of conversation in the pack, but I soon started to get really cold. It would have been better if we had ridden a bit harder because the combination of sweaty clothes from the earlier efforts and the slack pace dropped my core temp really fast. I was trying to take it a little easier than usual today because I'm planning on doing 65 miles of so tomorrow across the lake, and I didn't want to have sore legs.
Arriving at the lakefront, I was surprised to see a big turnout for the Giro ride. It was cold when we started, but once the pace picked up a bit, I stuffed the vest in my pocket and before the turn-around I had also taken the newspaper out from under my jersey. It was windy enough that riding in the group required extra vigilance. The pace was unsteady and the gusty winds were blowing guys around a little bit, which can be a recipe for crashes.
On the return trip the pace slowed way down and there was lots of conversation in the pack, but I soon started to get really cold. It would have been better if we had ridden a bit harder because the combination of sweaty clothes from the earlier efforts and the slack pace dropped my core temp really fast. I was trying to take it a little easier than usual today because I'm planning on doing 65 miles of so tomorrow across the lake, and I didn't want to have sore legs.
Friday, November 12, 2004
Surprise Visit
After a fast training ride yesterday and a night of wine-drinking last night at my sister-in-law's house, I was hoping for a nice easy Friday morning ride today. A cool front blew through yesterday evening and it was much cooler this morning, although the real issue was the strong North wind. Just as the small Friday group was about to start, Robin rode up accompanied by Brad. Surprise! Hadn't seen Brad in quite a while. He was very active racing around here a couple of years ago, but got married and moved to North Carolina and so there hasn't been a lot of communication since then. So anyway, it was nice to catch up with Brad, who was here for a friend's wedding, even though Rob was intent on keeping the pace faster than I would have liked. One thing I remember about Brad was the time that he and a few of the other local guys went up to ride the "Six-Gap Century." Brad and Kenny ended up finishing with the top 10 or so riders (I think Brad was 2nd or something), proving that there is no real secret to climbing hills other than having a very good power to weight ratio.
By the time I got back home this morning, I was really cold, even though the temperature was around 60F. I think that I got a little sweaty when the pace got fast and then when it slowed down and rode easily talking with Robin and Brad I got chilled. I suppose that cotton T-shirt I had on under my jersey contributed to that.
Still, the hardest thing I did all morning was plodding up the Broad St. overpass on the still overgeared commuter with a heavy bag over my shoulder and a strong headwind in my face! When I got to work today, I noticed a new fixie commuter in the bike room. Unlike the other one that's usually there, this one is built up in the true tradition, using a mixture of salvaged parts. An old Mondonico frame, bullhorn handlebars made from old racing bars and a hacksaw, an old mountain bike triple crankset converted to a single, etc. The other fixie is what you'd call "uptown retro." It's got a nice Miche track crank, drop bars with a fancy quill stem, a leather Brooks saddle with the big brass rivets, some kind of luggage rack thing attached to the seatpost, etc. Very nice, of course, but very few recycled parts.
We'll be doing our first winter training ride this Sunday, and so I need to send out an e-mail and map out a route today. It'll be nice to be out in the country again, and it's looking like the weather will be really nice.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
Missed the Boat
When I got to our usual meeting spot on the levee this morning, nobody was there. Odd, I thought, as I double-checked my watch. I was exactly on time, but there was not a rider in sight. For some reason, they left a few minutes early this morning. I felt rejected. An old bike racer coined a phrase back in the early 70s that I often repeat: "Bikies are like sheep." Indeed, if one of them starts to roll out early, they will all follow.
So I had a leisurely ride out under cloudy and drizzly skies, and met the group as they started their return trip. Big group for a Wednesday, and it was fairly brisk despite a good headwind. Talked for a while with Robin about some ongoing bike club stuff. There's this one club member who, for reasons I really cannot fathom, wants to be a club officer again. For some reason, this person has pretty much accused the president of the club, who has undoubtedly been the best president the club has had in the last 20 years, of trying to avoid having an actual election and instead appointing new officers for next year. In fact, the president has been trying to recruit a few people, particularly younger ones, into getting more involved and running for the officers' slots and doesn't have a problem with holding an election for positions where there might be more than one candidate. For my part, I would really like to see some new blood in the officers' positions.
Over the years, the club has managed to have actual elections only a handful of times. More often, however, when things are going well, nobody is willing to step up and the prior years' officers just continue on unopposed. There has been more than one occasion when we've "elected" riders who weren't even at the meeting and didn't know they had been nominated, much less elected, until afterward. I've always told people that they should be sure to attend the meeting where we have elections so that they can defend themselves! It's probably a pretty typical situation for a small organization like ours. I've tried quite a few times to have official elections, only to end up abandoning the idea because of a complete lack of interest.
Anyway, it seems to me that this person is intent on creating conflict where, as far as I can tell, there is none. The club is very open and most of the members work well together both when riding in races and when organizing them.
It's all kind of bizarre.
The weather here is dreary today. I made the ride in to work in-between the rain showers, so I didn't get too wet except when I had to ride through a rather deep puddle on the top of the Broad St. overpass. Even with full fenders, I still got a little splash on my shoe and pants legs. I sure wish they would clean out those drains up there. They have been clogged up so long that there are small trees growing out of some of them. There is a thick damp mist over the city and it's really starting to get to me. It looks like London in a Hollywood movie, and it's making me feel cold and sluggish like I should be storing brown fat and looking for a good hibernation cave.
So I had a leisurely ride out under cloudy and drizzly skies, and met the group as they started their return trip. Big group for a Wednesday, and it was fairly brisk despite a good headwind. Talked for a while with Robin about some ongoing bike club stuff. There's this one club member who, for reasons I really cannot fathom, wants to be a club officer again. For some reason, this person has pretty much accused the president of the club, who has undoubtedly been the best president the club has had in the last 20 years, of trying to avoid having an actual election and instead appointing new officers for next year. In fact, the president has been trying to recruit a few people, particularly younger ones, into getting more involved and running for the officers' slots and doesn't have a problem with holding an election for positions where there might be more than one candidate. For my part, I would really like to see some new blood in the officers' positions.
Over the years, the club has managed to have actual elections only a handful of times. More often, however, when things are going well, nobody is willing to step up and the prior years' officers just continue on unopposed. There has been more than one occasion when we've "elected" riders who weren't even at the meeting and didn't know they had been nominated, much less elected, until afterward. I've always told people that they should be sure to attend the meeting where we have elections so that they can defend themselves! It's probably a pretty typical situation for a small organization like ours. I've tried quite a few times to have official elections, only to end up abandoning the idea because of a complete lack of interest.
Anyway, it seems to me that this person is intent on creating conflict where, as far as I can tell, there is none. The club is very open and most of the members work well together both when riding in races and when organizing them.
It's all kind of bizarre.
The weather here is dreary today. I made the ride in to work in-between the rain showers, so I didn't get too wet except when I had to ride through a rather deep puddle on the top of the Broad St. overpass. Even with full fenders, I still got a little splash on my shoe and pants legs. I sure wish they would clean out those drains up there. They have been clogged up so long that there are small trees growing out of some of them. There is a thick damp mist over the city and it's really starting to get to me. It looks like London in a Hollywood movie, and it's making me feel cold and sluggish like I should be storing brown fat and looking for a good hibernation cave.
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
A Ride on the "D" Train
"D" is for "Donald."
There's this guy, you see, who's a regular on the morning levee training rides. In a way, this particular training ride owes its existence, if not its character, to this guy. For years, I had been in the habit of leaving the house at 6 a.m. every weekday, riding out to the lakefront, doing a 10-mile lap along the water, and returning home. It was all a very solitary routine.
Then, the Levee Board decided to start "improving" Lakeshore Drive and began ripping out bridges, tearing up roads and generally making it impossible to ride the full lap. About the same time, the city started ripping up a section of Carrollton Avenue, the road I use to get to the Lakefront, leaving it temporarily shoulderless and covered with debris. So, a few days a week, when I needed an easy day, I would go out to the levee instead. The group then tended to be a bit kinder and gentler than it is today, and it was always a nice, smooth ride at a moderate pace. More often than not, Donald would sit on the front and pull the short train of riders at a steady 23-24 mph most of the 11 miles out and most of the 11 miles back.
Eventually, I changed my routine and started riding with the levee group every day, since it wasn't worth dealing with all of the traffic and torn up roads just for a few miles on the lakefront. If I needed more of a workout than the group was offering, I would do catch-up intervals, dropping off way off the back and then sprinting back up to the group.
Despite my best efforts to keep the secret, word of the morning rides leaked out and the size of the group began to swell. Strong riders like Matt, Todd, Eddie, Rob, and of course "The Howard" started to show up on a regular basis. By early last year, the Tuesday ride, which was now up to 44 miles, had started to become a little more of a hammerfest.
Donald was still spending inordinate amounts of time on the front, but with speeds often well above 27 mph, nobody owned the front any more. But it was all good and guys were getting stronger and faster and it became what it has become - a Real(tm) group training ride.
So this morning, in keeping with the time of year and respectful of a rather brisk wind, the group was heading out at a pretty easy pace when, and after a few miles, Donald came past everyone and just started motoring. I waited for a second and then started to gradually bridge up, the rest of the group strung out behind me. We weren't going particularly hard like we would during the season; just a bit harder than most were hoping for. Soon enough I made up the gap and tucked in behind Donald.
For the next 10 miles or so, it was just like old times as Donald pulled the long train of riders at a steady 24 or 25 mph. It was nice to be aboard the D Train again, looking out the window at the ships on the river, lounging in Donald's ample draft and enjoying the ride.
The return trip seemed a bit harder for some reason as the group reverted to a regular paceline rotation to battle the wind.
The train was almost derailed near the end of the ride. Up near the front, big Ronnie started to swing off to the right and caught Con overlapping his wheel. They traded a bit of rubber and from my vantage point two riders back it looked like Con was going down for sure. That's when Todd, who was in front of me, bailed out onto the grass. I was about to do the same, and had already grapped a handful of brakes, but then Con got it back under control.
Whew! Didn't need that.
There's this guy, you see, who's a regular on the morning levee training rides. In a way, this particular training ride owes its existence, if not its character, to this guy. For years, I had been in the habit of leaving the house at 6 a.m. every weekday, riding out to the lakefront, doing a 10-mile lap along the water, and returning home. It was all a very solitary routine.
Then, the Levee Board decided to start "improving" Lakeshore Drive and began ripping out bridges, tearing up roads and generally making it impossible to ride the full lap. About the same time, the city started ripping up a section of Carrollton Avenue, the road I use to get to the Lakefront, leaving it temporarily shoulderless and covered with debris. So, a few days a week, when I needed an easy day, I would go out to the levee instead. The group then tended to be a bit kinder and gentler than it is today, and it was always a nice, smooth ride at a moderate pace. More often than not, Donald would sit on the front and pull the short train of riders at a steady 23-24 mph most of the 11 miles out and most of the 11 miles back.
Eventually, I changed my routine and started riding with the levee group every day, since it wasn't worth dealing with all of the traffic and torn up roads just for a few miles on the lakefront. If I needed more of a workout than the group was offering, I would do catch-up intervals, dropping off way off the back and then sprinting back up to the group.
Despite my best efforts to keep the secret, word of the morning rides leaked out and the size of the group began to swell. Strong riders like Matt, Todd, Eddie, Rob, and of course "The Howard" started to show up on a regular basis. By early last year, the Tuesday ride, which was now up to 44 miles, had started to become a little more of a hammerfest.
Donald was still spending inordinate amounts of time on the front, but with speeds often well above 27 mph, nobody owned the front any more. But it was all good and guys were getting stronger and faster and it became what it has become - a Real(tm) group training ride.
So this morning, in keeping with the time of year and respectful of a rather brisk wind, the group was heading out at a pretty easy pace when, and after a few miles, Donald came past everyone and just started motoring. I waited for a second and then started to gradually bridge up, the rest of the group strung out behind me. We weren't going particularly hard like we would during the season; just a bit harder than most were hoping for. Soon enough I made up the gap and tucked in behind Donald.
For the next 10 miles or so, it was just like old times as Donald pulled the long train of riders at a steady 24 or 25 mph. It was nice to be aboard the D Train again, looking out the window at the ships on the river, lounging in Donald's ample draft and enjoying the ride.
The return trip seemed a bit harder for some reason as the group reverted to a regular paceline rotation to battle the wind.
The train was almost derailed near the end of the ride. Up near the front, big Ronnie started to swing off to the right and caught Con overlapping his wheel. They traded a bit of rubber and from my vantage point two riders back it looked like Con was going down for sure. That's when Todd, who was in front of me, bailed out onto the grass. I was about to do the same, and had already grapped a handful of brakes, but then Con got it back under control.
Whew! Didn't need that.
Monday, November 08, 2004
Still Nice
Well the weather here is still really nice. This must be what it's like to live in some more normal part of the country during Fall. We had a nice Giro ride yesterday and the group is still in sightseeing mode, mostly content to let little breaks roll off the front without answer. As it should be.
So I broke down and changed the oil in the car, scraping up a knuckle or two wrestling with the drain plug because I didn't want to have to put the car on jackstands to get the clearance I needed. Did a few other fix-up chores around the house and a little yard work involving a tree saw. This morning I'm sore in all sorts of odd places. My neck is sore from being under the car (must be my enormous head), and my shoulders and arms seem to be sore too. Even my quads are a little sore from yesterday's ride. Y'know, I used to be able to recover from days like yesterday overnight.
This whole "getting old" thing is a real drag.
At 9:20 p.m. The Wife called from the airport to tell me she had arrived back from Boston. I was still at home, since her flight wasn't supposed to land until 9:46, so I hustled out to the airport only to find her just coming out because Delta had lost her luggage (again). They promised they would deliver it, and around 11 p.m. the phone rang and they told her they would send it in the morning. It finally arrived around 9 a.m. after two phone calls from whatever fly-by-night operation they contracted with to deliver lost luggage. I think they just hire whoever shows up with a car. We had to give them directions twice before they found the house.
We had the usual laid-back Monday morning ride today. It was a little warmer but still quite nice. Just me and Robin and Joe and one other guy I don't know very well. Along the way we stopped for a while to clean up a couple of broken bottles on the bike path, and one of the guys told us that there is apparently a group of people who live along the path/levee who are trying to get the Levee Board to impose more restrictions on cyclists. It was bound to happen, I guess.
Robin stopped by after the ride to give me a pair of handlebars he didn't need since I had mentioned the other day that mine were probably about to corrode all the way through. He also gave me about a dozen used tires in various states of usability. I'll sort through them and use the better ones this winter. I seem to have a much higher tolerance for old worn-out tires than most people and usually get another thousand miles or so on the ones they're throwing out.
Lots to do at work today but I've been kind of jumping around from one thing to another without really making much progress on anything. Must have been that cup of coffee I had. It always seems to have a bad effect on my attention span.
So I broke down and changed the oil in the car, scraping up a knuckle or two wrestling with the drain plug because I didn't want to have to put the car on jackstands to get the clearance I needed. Did a few other fix-up chores around the house and a little yard work involving a tree saw. This morning I'm sore in all sorts of odd places. My neck is sore from being under the car (must be my enormous head), and my shoulders and arms seem to be sore too. Even my quads are a little sore from yesterday's ride. Y'know, I used to be able to recover from days like yesterday overnight.
This whole "getting old" thing is a real drag.
At 9:20 p.m. The Wife called from the airport to tell me she had arrived back from Boston. I was still at home, since her flight wasn't supposed to land until 9:46, so I hustled out to the airport only to find her just coming out because Delta had lost her luggage (again). They promised they would deliver it, and around 11 p.m. the phone rang and they told her they would send it in the morning. It finally arrived around 9 a.m. after two phone calls from whatever fly-by-night operation they contracted with to deliver lost luggage. I think they just hire whoever shows up with a car. We had to give them directions twice before they found the house.
We had the usual laid-back Monday morning ride today. It was a little warmer but still quite nice. Just me and Robin and Joe and one other guy I don't know very well. Along the way we stopped for a while to clean up a couple of broken bottles on the bike path, and one of the guys told us that there is apparently a group of people who live along the path/levee who are trying to get the Levee Board to impose more restrictions on cyclists. It was bound to happen, I guess.
Robin stopped by after the ride to give me a pair of handlebars he didn't need since I had mentioned the other day that mine were probably about to corrode all the way through. He also gave me about a dozen used tires in various states of usability. I'll sort through them and use the better ones this winter. I seem to have a much higher tolerance for old worn-out tires than most people and usually get another thousand miles or so on the ones they're throwing out.
Lots to do at work today but I've been kind of jumping around from one thing to another without really making much progress on anything. Must have been that cup of coffee I had. It always seems to have a bad effect on my attention span.
Saturday, November 06, 2004
Spectacular Spin
Spectacular weather today. The Giro ride group was uncharacteristically civilized today. I think everyone was really enjoying the weather and didn't want to spoil it with too much heavy breathing. Had some discussion with Laura about the recent news that a bunch of our Cat. 4s are forming their own team (why, nobody can figure out - I think it's really all about having your own private team jersey). Anyway, that's a story for a different day.
We were most of the way down Hayne Blvd. before the pace picked up at all. I, for one, was just soaking in the sunshine back in the paceline while a handful of riders pursued a lonely effort to push the pace. On the way back a couple of riders, one on aero-bars, started rolling off the front. I watched for a while as the front of our group ignored them. I just hate watching people ride away from the pack. Well, OK, maybe I just hate watching ride away from me. So I just had to chase. They weren't going all that fast, and so after a minute or two at 27 mph I latched on. One of the guys was starting to die, so I made sure he got off of my wheel and onto Lawrence's, since drafting off of me is practically a waste of time for a normal-sized guy. When we hit the service road, which is a traditional regrouping spot, I sat up and waited for the group. With the pace a little slower, I worked on my spin for a while, keeping up around 120 rpm for a few miles as I twirled a 53x17. A while later, we turned onto Hayne Blvd. for the final stretch, and another group of three or four took off. I watched for a while as they built up 30 seconds or so and then, for reasons known only to some cluster of neurons in the base of my brain, I decided to go after them. Surprised? Didn't think so.
I switched into time-trial mode. At around 27 mph I was slowly gaining on them as we hit the Casino overpass. Riding steady up the overpass, the gap was down to 10 seconds or so and I was hoping they would ease up and coast down. No such luck. As I heard later, The Howard looked back and saw me coming and started pushing the pace again. I saw them pick up their pace and dropped down a couple of cogs on the downhill but I was pretty fried and for a while I was losing ground on them. A minute or two later, as we approached the Seabrook bridge, I was feeling a little bit recovered and started pushing again, eventually catching and passing all but The Howard as we climbed the bridge.
At home I turned on the TV and G.I. Jane was on and so I just had to watch the whole thing. I really like that movie - especially the music - for some reason.
So I picked up oil and an oil filter from the local auto parts store, which by the way is relentlessly sinking into an unbelievable state of non-management, and really should go out there and grovel around on the ground and change the oil, and later pay some bills, and do stuff like reorganize my sock drawer, but I think maybe I'll just blow it all off today and sit out on the porch and have a glass of wine instead.
Days like this are not to be wasted.
We were most of the way down Hayne Blvd. before the pace picked up at all. I, for one, was just soaking in the sunshine back in the paceline while a handful of riders pursued a lonely effort to push the pace. On the way back a couple of riders, one on aero-bars, started rolling off the front. I watched for a while as the front of our group ignored them. I just hate watching people ride away from the pack. Well, OK, maybe I just hate watching ride away from me. So I just had to chase. They weren't going all that fast, and so after a minute or two at 27 mph I latched on. One of the guys was starting to die, so I made sure he got off of my wheel and onto Lawrence's, since drafting off of me is practically a waste of time for a normal-sized guy. When we hit the service road, which is a traditional regrouping spot, I sat up and waited for the group. With the pace a little slower, I worked on my spin for a while, keeping up around 120 rpm for a few miles as I twirled a 53x17. A while later, we turned onto Hayne Blvd. for the final stretch, and another group of three or four took off. I watched for a while as they built up 30 seconds or so and then, for reasons known only to some cluster of neurons in the base of my brain, I decided to go after them. Surprised? Didn't think so.
I switched into time-trial mode. At around 27 mph I was slowly gaining on them as we hit the Casino overpass. Riding steady up the overpass, the gap was down to 10 seconds or so and I was hoping they would ease up and coast down. No such luck. As I heard later, The Howard looked back and saw me coming and started pushing the pace again. I saw them pick up their pace and dropped down a couple of cogs on the downhill but I was pretty fried and for a while I was losing ground on them. A minute or two later, as we approached the Seabrook bridge, I was feeling a little bit recovered and started pushing again, eventually catching and passing all but The Howard as we climbed the bridge.
At home I turned on the TV and G.I. Jane was on and so I just had to watch the whole thing. I really like that movie - especially the music - for some reason.
So I picked up oil and an oil filter from the local auto parts store, which by the way is relentlessly sinking into an unbelievable state of non-management, and really should go out there and grovel around on the ground and change the oil, and later pay some bills, and do stuff like reorganize my sock drawer, but I think maybe I'll just blow it all off today and sit out on the porch and have a glass of wine instead.
Days like this are not to be wasted.
Friday, November 05, 2004
Fall!
Well, it looks like it's finally arrived. A cool front came through yesterday and this morning there was a strong and steady wind out of the Northwest (where all cold weather comes from around here) and temperatures in the mid-50s. In other words, the weather is fantastic! So naturally, after I had donned arm-warmers and and two jerseys, I found that I had a flat tire. I should have known. Yesterday I was able to get in only a quick 45-minute ride because of a conference I had to attend in the morning and by the time I got back my rear tire was already a bit soft. Turned out I had missed a small secondary puncture when I patched it previously.
So I took my remaining spare tube (I usually try to carry two) out of my seat bag and it went into the rear tire. I patched the leaky tube, and then had to time-trial out to meet the group. Luckily, they were still hanging around on the levee hoping for a couple more riders to share the work, since the wind definitely going to be an issue.
Although most of the Mississippi River goes North to South, the section from New Orleans up toward Baton Rouge is more East-West, which means that we had more crosswind today than anything else. Nobody was pushing very hard, but on the return trip there was one section where we were we had a pretty strong headwind and although we were only going 20-21 mph, our little 8 or 9-person group split. The four of us in the front group didn't even know it until the gap was a good 30 seconds or so. I think Robin probably dropped back to help pace Joe back and a few of the guys stayed with them. Anyway, it was cool and dry and it actually felt a little bit like Fall this morning. We're promised about a week of similar weather, with tonight's low getting down to the very low 50s, so I think it is now safe to declare that Fall has arrived in New Orleans.
I spent all day yesterday at a "Homeland Security Conference" which was mostly fairly interesting. I have to say that the various Federal, State and Local agencies, from the Department of Homeland Security to the Parish Police departments, have really gotten a lot accomplished over the last few years. I am sure that the public does not even have a clue how much stronger national security and disaster response has become. What impressed me the most, though, was how dedicated these people were to cooperating with each other and making this complex network function so well. We heard from DHS, the Coast Guard, the National Guard, the State Police, etc. Almost every speaker, at some point, said he couldn't tell us the details of one thing or another because of national security (i.e. it was classified information). In a way, it was kind of reassuring, and on the other hand some of it, particularly the monitoring aspect, was a little bit reminiscent of George Orwell's "1984." I mean they are already using cameras and facial recognition software in a number of airports.
We'll be starting the winter ride series Nov. 14th, so I need to get that information out to the NOBC e-mail list. I'm a bit tempted to try and put together a group to go on a ride in the country this weekend since the weather should be spectacular.
So I took my remaining spare tube (I usually try to carry two) out of my seat bag and it went into the rear tire. I patched the leaky tube, and then had to time-trial out to meet the group. Luckily, they were still hanging around on the levee hoping for a couple more riders to share the work, since the wind definitely going to be an issue.
Although most of the Mississippi River goes North to South, the section from New Orleans up toward Baton Rouge is more East-West, which means that we had more crosswind today than anything else. Nobody was pushing very hard, but on the return trip there was one section where we were we had a pretty strong headwind and although we were only going 20-21 mph, our little 8 or 9-person group split. The four of us in the front group didn't even know it until the gap was a good 30 seconds or so. I think Robin probably dropped back to help pace Joe back and a few of the guys stayed with them. Anyway, it was cool and dry and it actually felt a little bit like Fall this morning. We're promised about a week of similar weather, with tonight's low getting down to the very low 50s, so I think it is now safe to declare that Fall has arrived in New Orleans.
I spent all day yesterday at a "Homeland Security Conference" which was mostly fairly interesting. I have to say that the various Federal, State and Local agencies, from the Department of Homeland Security to the Parish Police departments, have really gotten a lot accomplished over the last few years. I am sure that the public does not even have a clue how much stronger national security and disaster response has become. What impressed me the most, though, was how dedicated these people were to cooperating with each other and making this complex network function so well. We heard from DHS, the Coast Guard, the National Guard, the State Police, etc. Almost every speaker, at some point, said he couldn't tell us the details of one thing or another because of national security (i.e. it was classified information). In a way, it was kind of reassuring, and on the other hand some of it, particularly the monitoring aspect, was a little bit reminiscent of George Orwell's "1984." I mean they are already using cameras and facial recognition software in a number of airports.
We'll be starting the winter ride series Nov. 14th, so I need to get that information out to the NOBC e-mail list. I'm a bit tempted to try and put together a group to go on a ride in the country this weekend since the weather should be spectacular.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
Soggy Shorts
It was nice not to have to hit the road in the dark yesterday morning for the long group training ride, but my enthusiasm was dampened by the overcast skies full of clouds streaming in from the Gulf. I asked if anyone had checked the radar, and someone said we should be OK.
Shortly thereafter, the dry pavement ended. Through the occasional light rain, the group settled into a consensus pace of about 24 mph., with occasional surges, eventually ignored, by The Howard. Most of the ride back was even more wet with enough water on the road that getting a good draft in the headwind meant having gritty water sprayed in your face to accompany the water being sprayed up your backside and dripping down into your socks. Naturally, it also meant flat tires, one of which was mine. I was only a few miles from the end of the ride and for a minute I thought I might be able to ride it in before it hit bottom, but no such luck.
The worst thing about changing a flat under these conditions is that you get really dirty. By the time I got home, I was a bit of a mess with black smudges all over my hands and thighs from changing the tire and dirt and grit running down my legs into my socks.
I keep the bikes in the basement (which around here is at ground level) near the washer, so I peeled off all the lycra, threw the lot into the washer, headed up the stairs stark naked but for my sandals, and jumped in the shower.
It stayed cloudy all day and by mid-afternoon, the real weather was moving in and the skies turned really black. I'm talking sci-fi movie black - "dark and stormy night" black. At 4 p.m. it was dark enough that all the street lights automatically switched on. The wind started gusting and the rain came down in Biblical proportions. The bike and I got a ride home with The Wife after work.
It was still wet and drizzly this morning so I skipped the training ride and headed in to work early. There was still a light rain falling here and there, but not enough to get me really wet. We're expecting cooler temperatures tonight and by Friday it will be what we commonly refer to around here as "cold," which is to say it will be in the low 50s. Tomorrow morning should be rather nice. Definitely arm-warmer weather.
As Scarlett said, ". . . tomorrow is another day."
Shortly thereafter, the dry pavement ended. Through the occasional light rain, the group settled into a consensus pace of about 24 mph., with occasional surges, eventually ignored, by The Howard. Most of the ride back was even more wet with enough water on the road that getting a good draft in the headwind meant having gritty water sprayed in your face to accompany the water being sprayed up your backside and dripping down into your socks. Naturally, it also meant flat tires, one of which was mine. I was only a few miles from the end of the ride and for a minute I thought I might be able to ride it in before it hit bottom, but no such luck.
The worst thing about changing a flat under these conditions is that you get really dirty. By the time I got home, I was a bit of a mess with black smudges all over my hands and thighs from changing the tire and dirt and grit running down my legs into my socks.
I keep the bikes in the basement (which around here is at ground level) near the washer, so I peeled off all the lycra, threw the lot into the washer, headed up the stairs stark naked but for my sandals, and jumped in the shower.
It stayed cloudy all day and by mid-afternoon, the real weather was moving in and the skies turned really black. I'm talking sci-fi movie black - "dark and stormy night" black. At 4 p.m. it was dark enough that all the street lights automatically switched on. The wind started gusting and the rain came down in Biblical proportions. The bike and I got a ride home with The Wife after work.
It was still wet and drizzly this morning so I skipped the training ride and headed in to work early. There was still a light rain falling here and there, but not enough to get me really wet. We're expecting cooler temperatures tonight and by Friday it will be what we commonly refer to around here as "cold," which is to say it will be in the low 50s. Tomorrow morning should be rather nice. Definitely arm-warmer weather.
As Scarlett said, ". . . tomorrow is another day."
Monday, November 01, 2004
Rocktoberfest Race Report Sneak Preview
This morning's training ride was a bit windy but otherwise uneventful, so here's a copy of the writeup I did last night on Rocktoberfest for Christian at The Racing Post:
Rocktoberfest Reloaded
The 6th annual New Orleans Rocktoberfest circuit race finally got underway October 24th, having been rescheduled at the last minute because of a tropical storm that had blown through the Crescent City two weeks earlier. This fun event usually marks the end of the local road racing season, and despite the delayed date and unseasonably warm weather, we had some good racing.
Being a club-promoted event, a bunch of us do kind of an officiating/racing relay, taking turns at various duties so that we can put on the race and still get to ride it. This race seems to be very attractive to new riders, and once again the Cat. 5s outnumbered all the other classes. The large group, more than half of which were riding on one-day licenses, was a little scary, and since there wasn't the usual Fall crosswind, things stayed together, culminating in a big pack sprint. Unfortunately, about 500 meters from the line one rider went down hard and we had some anxious moments. The rider sustained a mild concussion, broken clavicle, and road rash from head to toe, but somehow nobody else went down, including the guy who rolled over his head.
I rode the Master-35+ race, officiated a bit, and then rode the Cat. 1,2,3 race, both of which were a blast. The masters race is usually a battle between two of the local teams, the New Orleans Bicycle Club and NBO Racing, and this year was no exception. Shortly after the start, NBO started launching attacks and my NOBC teammates and I were kept busy up front trying to keep things under control. NOBC rider Charlie Davis took on "counter-attack duty" and relentlessly countered the NBO attacks. A 3-man break containing NBO rider Cary Holle, NOBC rider Charlie Davis and unattached rider Jay Joyce, who was clearly working with NBO in this race, finally broke lose early in the race. The gap wasn't opening very fast, despite NBO's heavy blocking, and since I wasn't very comfortable with Charlie's chances in this break, I wasn't willing to let it get too much time on the group. The break was caught a lap or so later on the 3-mile course, but the pace stayed fast and soon another break went containing another of my teammates, Mike Lew. Mike was looking pretty good, but this break just never seemed to gel. I could see that they weren't working together very well, and after another lap or so it was swallowed up by the pack pretty easily.
Now it was looking like it would come down to a sprint and things eased up for a little while on the last lap. Things were still dangerously bunched up a mile from the finish, but finally Luke Ponseti (NBO) and a couple others got things started and just after the kilo marker we were already up to about 30 mph. With 300m to go Mike came hammering by me on the left and I latched onto his wheel, punching the shifter down to the 12 at the same time as the sprint started in earnest. Mike motored past everyone and as we approached the line he eased up just a bit. I figured we had this one in the bag and eased up a bit too to make sure Mike crossed the line first.
Then I heard it. The unmistakable "woosh, woosh, woosh" of a big guy in a 53x11. It was accompanied by guttural animal sounds most often heard through the wall of a cheap hotel room. I knew immediately we were in trouble and tried to respond, but it was too late. Howard Luna blasted past us at the line and took the win! We did OK, though, taking 2nd, 3rd and 4th. You'd think by now I'd know not to quit before crossing the line! I kind of doubt I would have been able to hold off Howard's charge anyway.
The next race, about an hour later, was the Cat. 1,2,3 race. I was in this one mainly to help our new Cat. 3 rider Branden Morvant. This would be his second race as a Cat. 3 and I knew he was strong enough to get a good result as long as he didn't miss a key break. If it came down to a sprint, I knew that all he needed was a clear shot at the line. As it turned out, he was to miss a break and definitely not get a clear shot at the line, but got a good result anyway. So, what do I know?
Starting this race was like a lot of short Cat. 1,2,3 races, which is to say it's like being shot out of a cannon. For the first six miles it was one attack after another, with the speed staying around 30 mph. A break of 5 or 6 riders finally broke loose and although it didn't include Branden or me, it included Tim Regan, Frank Moak and Troy Porter of the Herring team, along with one or two NBO riders and our rider Chalie Davis. NBO immediately started to block and it was largely up to me, Branden and Scott Kuppesmith of Pathworks to keep us within striking range. We had one Herring rider, Kenny Bellau (current La/Ms road and crit champion) in the pack.
I couldn't really figure out why NBO was blocking so much because their best sprinters were back in the chase group with us. I was trying to help Branden save his legs by doing a lot of work up front and at one point I dropped back to him for a chat. The gap was holding pretty steady at maybe 20 seconds, and I was sure that Kenny would try and bridge. I warned Branden about that and sure enough, Kenny attacked hard three different times. Each time, one of us was there and the pack was on us like white on rice, but by the time Kenny made his last attack the break was starting to disintegrate. Charlie had already been dropped, and a couple others were dangling off the back. Kenny's last attempt to bridge took us up to 31 mph for a while and got the pack close enough to smell blood. The break was caught right after that, but in the confusion Troy Porter took the opportunity to slip off the front and opened a huge gap with a bit over a lap to go. The pack was mostly toast by now and with three Herring guys now blocking it was looking like a race for 2nd place to me.
Coming into the final mile or so I knew I didn't' have the legs to provide a decent leadout, so I told Branden to "stay on Frank's wheel no matter what." About ten seconds later the sprint started and Branden was in a good spot behind Frank on the right side of the road, about 5 riders back. At around 200 meters, Frank slipped past between a dying rider and the curb and the door shut on Branden. Luckily he had the presence of mind to back out and go around on the left, putting in a great effort and placing third in the pack sprint behind Frank and Tim. I was pretty pleased with that result, although a podium spot for Branden would have been sweet. I rolled across after Kenny in 7th overall.
So that was it for the 2004 road racing season, my 33rd, and I'm looking forward to a few weeks of easy rides.
Now, where did I put those arm warmers and mountain bike shoes??
Rocktoberfest Reloaded
The 6th annual New Orleans Rocktoberfest circuit race finally got underway October 24th, having been rescheduled at the last minute because of a tropical storm that had blown through the Crescent City two weeks earlier. This fun event usually marks the end of the local road racing season, and despite the delayed date and unseasonably warm weather, we had some good racing.
Being a club-promoted event, a bunch of us do kind of an officiating/racing relay, taking turns at various duties so that we can put on the race and still get to ride it. This race seems to be very attractive to new riders, and once again the Cat. 5s outnumbered all the other classes. The large group, more than half of which were riding on one-day licenses, was a little scary, and since there wasn't the usual Fall crosswind, things stayed together, culminating in a big pack sprint. Unfortunately, about 500 meters from the line one rider went down hard and we had some anxious moments. The rider sustained a mild concussion, broken clavicle, and road rash from head to toe, but somehow nobody else went down, including the guy who rolled over his head.
I rode the Master-35+ race, officiated a bit, and then rode the Cat. 1,2,3 race, both of which were a blast. The masters race is usually a battle between two of the local teams, the New Orleans Bicycle Club and NBO Racing, and this year was no exception. Shortly after the start, NBO started launching attacks and my NOBC teammates and I were kept busy up front trying to keep things under control. NOBC rider Charlie Davis took on "counter-attack duty" and relentlessly countered the NBO attacks. A 3-man break containing NBO rider Cary Holle, NOBC rider Charlie Davis and unattached rider Jay Joyce, who was clearly working with NBO in this race, finally broke lose early in the race. The gap wasn't opening very fast, despite NBO's heavy blocking, and since I wasn't very comfortable with Charlie's chances in this break, I wasn't willing to let it get too much time on the group. The break was caught a lap or so later on the 3-mile course, but the pace stayed fast and soon another break went containing another of my teammates, Mike Lew. Mike was looking pretty good, but this break just never seemed to gel. I could see that they weren't working together very well, and after another lap or so it was swallowed up by the pack pretty easily.
Now it was looking like it would come down to a sprint and things eased up for a little while on the last lap. Things were still dangerously bunched up a mile from the finish, but finally Luke Ponseti (NBO) and a couple others got things started and just after the kilo marker we were already up to about 30 mph. With 300m to go Mike came hammering by me on the left and I latched onto his wheel, punching the shifter down to the 12 at the same time as the sprint started in earnest. Mike motored past everyone and as we approached the line he eased up just a bit. I figured we had this one in the bag and eased up a bit too to make sure Mike crossed the line first.
Then I heard it. The unmistakable "woosh, woosh, woosh" of a big guy in a 53x11. It was accompanied by guttural animal sounds most often heard through the wall of a cheap hotel room. I knew immediately we were in trouble and tried to respond, but it was too late. Howard Luna blasted past us at the line and took the win! We did OK, though, taking 2nd, 3rd and 4th. You'd think by now I'd know not to quit before crossing the line! I kind of doubt I would have been able to hold off Howard's charge anyway.
The next race, about an hour later, was the Cat. 1,2,3 race. I was in this one mainly to help our new Cat. 3 rider Branden Morvant. This would be his second race as a Cat. 3 and I knew he was strong enough to get a good result as long as he didn't miss a key break. If it came down to a sprint, I knew that all he needed was a clear shot at the line. As it turned out, he was to miss a break and definitely not get a clear shot at the line, but got a good result anyway. So, what do I know?
Starting this race was like a lot of short Cat. 1,2,3 races, which is to say it's like being shot out of a cannon. For the first six miles it was one attack after another, with the speed staying around 30 mph. A break of 5 or 6 riders finally broke loose and although it didn't include Branden or me, it included Tim Regan, Frank Moak and Troy Porter of the Herring team, along with one or two NBO riders and our rider Chalie Davis. NBO immediately started to block and it was largely up to me, Branden and Scott Kuppesmith of Pathworks to keep us within striking range. We had one Herring rider, Kenny Bellau (current La/Ms road and crit champion) in the pack.
I couldn't really figure out why NBO was blocking so much because their best sprinters were back in the chase group with us. I was trying to help Branden save his legs by doing a lot of work up front and at one point I dropped back to him for a chat. The gap was holding pretty steady at maybe 20 seconds, and I was sure that Kenny would try and bridge. I warned Branden about that and sure enough, Kenny attacked hard three different times. Each time, one of us was there and the pack was on us like white on rice, but by the time Kenny made his last attack the break was starting to disintegrate. Charlie had already been dropped, and a couple others were dangling off the back. Kenny's last attempt to bridge took us up to 31 mph for a while and got the pack close enough to smell blood. The break was caught right after that, but in the confusion Troy Porter took the opportunity to slip off the front and opened a huge gap with a bit over a lap to go. The pack was mostly toast by now and with three Herring guys now blocking it was looking like a race for 2nd place to me.
Coming into the final mile or so I knew I didn't' have the legs to provide a decent leadout, so I told Branden to "stay on Frank's wheel no matter what." About ten seconds later the sprint started and Branden was in a good spot behind Frank on the right side of the road, about 5 riders back. At around 200 meters, Frank slipped past between a dying rider and the curb and the door shut on Branden. Luckily he had the presence of mind to back out and go around on the left, putting in a great effort and placing third in the pack sprint behind Frank and Tim. I was pretty pleased with that result, although a podium spot for Branden would have been sweet. I rolled across after Kenny in 7th overall.
So that was it for the 2004 road racing season, my 33rd, and I'm looking forward to a few weeks of easy rides.
Now, where did I put those arm warmers and mountain bike shoes??
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