Chilled Out

Wednesday morning cool-down - windy and cooler but not yet "cold."

Last week was my lowest mileage week since I broke my collarbone on a car way back in the Spring. The reasons were numerous - work responsibilities, officiating responsibilities, domestic responsibilities. Somehow these things always seem to come together this time of year, so I guess it was "situation normal."

Most of the weekday rides were largely in the dark, not particularly hard, and not particularly cold. Speaking of cold, the air-conditioner stopped cooling again last weekend and so on Tuesday I was at home with the technicians who installed a new coil for the bargain price of about two grand. The weather around here had already been cooling down a bit, and I knew that the mere act of repairing the A/C would practically guarantee the prompt arrival of a cold front. Indeed, by the time the thing was fixed Tuesday evening it was already cool enough that it has only rarely kicked on at all (although I think it will be running a bit next week). For the past three or four days we've been quite comfortable with just open windows and ceiling fans.

I went out on Wednesday for the WeMoRi, arriving a little later than I've been recently, merging into the group on Marconi. It's so freaking dark for the morning rides right now that I'm really having a hard time putting in much effort. We've got just one more week until the switch back to standard time on Sunday, and for those of us who ride in the mornings, it can't come soon enough. It was cool enough on Wednesday for arm-warmers or long-sleeve jerseys. Another cold front moved through shortly afterward, so by Thursday and Friday I was searching through my stuff for knickers and long-sleeve jerseys. Unfortunately, Friday was my last day to ride because I had to go up to Baton Rouge on Saturday morning to officiate the LAMBRA Track Championships.

Linescan finish camera image from the Velodrome

Up at the Velodrome I was wearing a fleece pullover and winter jacket, and every time I'd step out of the sun, which fortunately wasn't very often, I'd get cold. Everybody has complications this time of year, and officials are no exceptions. I could officiate on Saturday morning, but absolutely had to be out of there at 1 pm because we were having our annual neighborhood Halloween party that night. Ricky had come down from Monroe to officiate on Saturday, but had to go back for Sunday.

Closest finish of the day

Mike was out of town, but the LAMBRA camera and stuff were at his house, so Ricky had to pick that up in the morning.  We ran the flying 200 qualifiers, the Points races, and the first round of Matched Sprints, finishing up right at 1 pm, which worked out great for me. The Points Races are always hard to judge. You have to pick four-deep for each sprint, keep track of the leaders, keep track of the "pack" (if any), keep track of lapped riders, keep track of riders to gain a lap, and remember to score double points for the finish sprint. Luckily there were only one or two sprints where we had to confirm the finish order with the camera. In the afternoon after I'd left, Chris came in to help officiate the evening session, which from all reports was freezing cold, which means it may have touched the upper end of the 30s.

The Halloween party was fun and we went through a lot of food and I think eight or nine bottles of wine in addition to beer. I'd been up since about 5:30 am, driven to Baton Rouge, officiated, driven back, set up Halloween decorations, etc., so by the time everyone left I was more than ready for bed, especially since I'd have to hit the road for Baton Rouge again at 6:30 the next morning. I think everyone had a good time at the party, which was nice. The Halloween party really started on Halloween night in 2005, two months after Katrina, and the first week when most of the people on our block were back in their houses. We sat out on the front porch at the neighbor's house that night and got re-acquainted with each other, told our Katrina stories, and handed out candy to the one lonely trick-or-treater who came by.  Most of the city was still not back at that point.

On Sunday I headed out before sunrise again, stopping at the Maple Street Starbucks for a cup of Thanksgiving Blend first. The drive was actually quite nice. Traffic was sparse, so I was just cruising on cruise-control, listening to the satellite radio, and watching the thermometer drop. Fortunately the racing didn't start until 9 am, the sky was clear and sunny, and the previous day's wind had died down considerably, so I was pretty comfortable without the winter jacket. The racing went smoothly. We finished up the Sprint competitions, held the Scratch Races, and finished  up with the Pursuit/TTs. I got back home to New Orleans in the early afternoon, posted the results to the LAMBRA website, finished up the USAC Post-event Report, and spent the rest of the day eating things I shouldn't be eating like leftover party food, Halloween candy, cookies, etc. Not riding and eating a lot of junk food makes for a bad combination, but for some reason the arrival of cold weather always makes me hungry. I could have gone out for a ride in the late afternoon, but frankly I just didn't have it in me. I was tired, it was chilly outside, and I felt like I needed a little break. From what, I don't really know.

So Monday morning was pretty chilly. I had a 9 am conference call that I wanted to take at the office, so I was out the door a few minutes after 6 am, which is over an hour before sunrise right now. I knew I'd be chilled, so I was wearing the thermal knickers, base layer, and long-sleeve jersey, which turned out to be just right, considering the fact that I wouldn't be going particularly hard. It looks like it will be warmer for the next couple of weeks, so that may be the last time I'll need the thermal stuff until the next cold front comes through, probably around the second week of November.

October Transitions

Last week's rides felt mostly robotic. I guess I'm in a mid-October slump where it's gotten hard to generate much enthusiasm as things begin to transition into Fall. I didn't even take may photos, partially because it's usually too dark to get anything good, and partially because there just wasn't anything interesting. I always find it hard to push myself very much when I'm riding in the dark. We don't switch back to regular Central Time until November 5, which I think it ridiculous, so there will be a lot more dark morning rides before then. As we got closer to the end of the week it became apparent that an approaching cold front was threatening to mess up the weekend's outdoor activities, of which there were many. The first thing to go was the Oak Street Po-boy Festival that re-scheduled for November 12 rather than risk getting rained out at the last minute. Since that festival involves a huge number of restaurants that set up tents and food preparation equipment, it was wise to make the call earlier rather than later.

On Saturday I rode the Giro as usual. There was a pretty big group on hand despite the weather forecast. Fortunately they had been pushing back the arrival time for the rain since Friday and so Saturday morning's rain chances were still pretty low. Heading out on Hayne Blvd. it was nice to see that all of the holes in the concrete roadway had been patched. That was not the work of our fine city, of course. That was the work of Premier Event Management, promoters of Sunday's Ochsner Ironman 70.3 race that had still not been cancelled. That race uses the traditional Giro route for most of the bike portion. Saturday's Giro seemed kind of fast, although I think that was largely due to just a handful of riders at the front who were perhaps trying to get in a hard workout on the assumption that everything would be rained out on Sunday. At the time, Sunday's rain forecast was still pegged at 100%. We were on the way back, on the service road alongside I-10, when I saw Daniel dropping back. His rear tire was almost flat. The pace at the front, however, had just started to ramp up, so although somebody yelled "flat!" the only person to stop with him was me. I was actually fine with that since I was not feeling very good anyway and had been doing little except sucking wheels at the back anyway.

So the air-conditioner stopped working again last week. I spent most of the day on Friday at home waiting for the service guy who told me that the evaporator coil was leaking, which we had earlier suspected was happening. He put some more Freon (or whatever they actually use now) in and got it running again, but the plan is to replace it on Tuesday at the bargain price of about $2k. Having to fix the air-conditioner, of course, virtually guarantees that summer is over. Anyway, it cooled down the house nicely and ran just fine until around 9 pm when it shut itself off again, which made Friday night rather uncomfortable, especially since Danielle was away at a conference in Orlando and as a result her two dogs were in our bed. When I got home from the Giro on Saturday, still wearing my kit, we dragged the big old backup window unit up the stairs from the basement and stuck it into the bedroom window.

Inched over the 10,000 mile mark this morning

Sunday morning the bedroom was freezing cold and when I got up all I could hear was the window unit which was about a foot from my head. In my usual early morning daze I got up, pulled on shorts and jersey, and headed for the basement stairs to get the bike and go out to meet the Giro. The forecast from the night before was showing the rain moving in around 10 am. It was wrong. When I walked into the kitchen I could see S. Claiborne Avenue through the window and it was obviously wet. On closer inspection, I could see that it was actually raining. Crap. 6:00 am, all dressed out, and no place to go. I fired up the computer and the radar looked bad. There was a whole line of rain well ahead of the real cold front and it was right on top of us. The real front wouldn't be arriving until around noon. I also noticed that they had announced a last-minute cancellation of the Ironman. I had been planning on doing only part of the Sunday Giro because my brother was going to be passing through town on his way from Baton Rouge to Orlando and we were meeting for coffee at CC's on Magazine at 10:30 with him and the sisters and everyone. I ended up down in the basement putting a new chain on the Bianchi and cleaning up the whole drivetrain before it was time to go. Afterward, I ran over to SuperCuts and got a somewhat overdue haircut, getting back home just as the sky turned black. The cold front came through right on schedule, and by 3 pm the sun was out, there was a strong breeze blowing, and it was already feeling a bit cooler. I had to pick Danielle up from the airport around 6:30, so I jumped on the bike and got in a couple of hours of riding on the levee. After I got home and checked Strava I realized I was just five miles short of 10,000 for the year. That milestone would have to wait until Monday.

This morning it was cool enough for a little wind protection underneath the jersey, but not quite what you'd want to call "cold." I guess it was around 60F. I went out and did a fairly casual 20-odd miles on the levee where it was pretty windy. At least that pushed my annual mileage over the 10,000 mark. I guess I'm on track for the usual 11k - 12k miles again this year. Having to spend a few weekends officiating instead of riding in the fall and winter usually takes a bit of a toll on my mileage. The first cyclocross race was yesterday up in Baton Rouge, but the other officials had that one covered so I was quite happy to stay home where my feet were dry. The Track championships are next weekend, so I guess I'll be helping with the officiating for that. Then there are eight cyclocross races in November and December.

A Front

Tuesday morning on the levee, heading back downriver

Last week's weekday morning rides seemed mostly hot and dark and humid. Just the other day I mentioned how surprised I was that, halfway through October, I hadn't yet pulled out even the arm-warmers.

It was hard to get out of bed Tuesday morning. It always is this time of year when 5:30 am may as well be midnight for all the sunlight there is, or isn't. Although I can't deny that there's a certain rush that one feels when riding down quiet streets in the dark, I've never been much of a fan of nighttime riding. It's at best a necessary evil for working stiffs like myself who aren't up to fighting it out with post-rush-hour distracted-driver evening traffic on city streets. So once again I was up atop the levee at the designated time, which happens to be 6 am on Tuesdays and Thursdays, along with a handful of other riders. Riding the levee bike path in the dark requires a lot of attention. If you're not on the front, your headlight is likely shining mostly on the rider ahead of you, which kind of blinds you. If that rider also has a bright tail light blinking two feet from your face the situation is even worse. So it really amounts to trust. You have to just trust that the rider on the front is paying attention and will give ample notice as the group comes up on pedestrians, dog-walkers, bike riders, coyotes, chickens, alligators, and potholes. I'm not really all that good at the trust thing, myself. Right now, if the sky is cloudy, it's pretty dark for most of the first hour of riding. Anyway, Tuesday's ride was about par for the course with mostly just a smooth paceline where each rider takes long steady pulls.

WeMoRi cool-down

On Wednesday I rode out as usual to meet up with the WeMoRi group at the lakefront. Since the Wisner overpass was finally re-opened, my route to the lakefront is a bit shorter now, and since I somehow managed to get on the road a little early I met up with the group only a mile or two after the start. That was nice since it allowed me to get warmed gradually as the pace ramped up. Unfortunately there were a couple of traffic issues that brought most of the group to practically a stop, which kind of spoiled the fun, but not as much as having the group hit by a car would have spoiled it, so I guess it was OK. At the end, around a mile from the sprint, Daniel came by on the left and I took his wheel as he rode past the group. I was hoping he'd take me to within attack distance, but as luck would have it, he moved over to the right and dropped me off with about half a K to go, which is pretty much my worst-case scenario, so I took a brief pull up to 33 mph that basically constituted a lead-out. Afterward I stopped in at Starbucks for a recovery coffee since I knew we were out of coffee beans at home.

Thursday's long ride on the levee seemed darker than usual but was otherwise normal. Nobody seemed too interested in going very hard. I moved the pace up a notch or so when I came to the front but it was never sustained very long.

Saturday's Giro group heading out on Lakeshore Dr.

Saturday's Giro had a small group. The weather actually wasn't all that bad, except that it was pretty windy. There were a lot of things going on in town and elsewhere and so a number of the usual riders were missing. There was a headwind going out and so it was by no means an easy ride. We were just part-way down Chef highway on the way out when we came upon most of the 6:45 group on the side of the road watching Geoff fix what was apparently his second or third flat. After slowing down the group kind of decided to merge in with that group, some of which had continued on to the turnaround, so when we saw then coming back we turned around. That gave us a larger group plus a tailwind, so it was like 30 mph all the way back down Chef. Then Brian flatted on the service road and the group split with just a few of us going back to help. We still had the tailwind most of the way but the effort level was a bit dampened after that. Coming down the Seabrook bridge we found a police car blocking the curve onto Lakeshore Drive because of the Bike the Big Easy ride, so Stephanie and I went straight on to Leon C. Simon, only to look back and discover that the police officer had let the rest of the group through. We got back onto Lakeshore Drive a little later at Franklin but had to chase a bit to catch up with everyone. I spend the afternoon putting up Halloween decorations. I hate putting up decorations. Then we went and voted. All I can say about the Mayor's race is that whoever ends up winning the runoff -- well, we're pretty much screwed either way. The City Council actually doesn't look to be quite as bad, so maybe there's hope, but I wouldn't bet on it. After voting we went town to Magazine Street for the Art for Art's Sake night where most of the shops stay open late and offer things like wine and cheeze and stuff. It was actually pretty nice and we ran into a few people we knew, including Andrew, Kenny, Brian, and their assorted significant others and/or progeny.

Sunday's Giro had a big group so the pace was brisk, at least until someone flatted on Chef near that first stop light. Again, some of the group kept going while the rest of us circled back. That kind of took the wind out of our sails, making the rest of the ride back relatively serene. The rest of Sunday went kind of downhill weather-wise because there was finally a cold front on the way. That made Monday morning windy but much cooler, which is to say it was 70 instead of 80. It'll be a bit cooler tomorrow morning but I don't know if I'll be able to justify even arm-warmers. I mean, is 59F cold enough for arm-warmers? Temperatures in the 50s always confuse me.

Hurricane Hype

The Giro coming back across the still-open Hwy 90 floodgate.

It was an emergency, an imminent disaster, the end of life as we know it. At least, that's what it sounded like on Friday. The mayor put on his disaster costume (as if he was out there filling sandbags himself) and got onto television with his entire entourage behind him - Disaster Response, Sewerage and Water Board, Police Chief, etc., etc. He imposed a city-wide curfew to which I knew nobody would pay the least bit of attention. I had been following the storm for days via spaghettimodels.com and was pretty sure this wasn't going to be much of a disaster. Of course, there's always the possibility of a tornado, or just having some old termite-damaged part of the house collapse, but at the worst I was expecting maybe one day without electricity and a few tree branches on the ground.

The price of riding Chef Highway through Gentilly.

Hurricane Nate was supposed to make landfall late Saturday night. I immediately began making plans - for how we would get in our weekend training rides. On Friday they started closing floodgates, of which there were many. The Giro Ride crosses two floodgates on the way out and three on the way back, so it was by no means certain that we'd be able to do the usual route. Putting some faith in the city's sluggishness to do anything, however, a big group rolled out from Starbucks at 7 am anyway. We figured that the floodgates at the lakefront would be closed already (they were), so we headed out down Robert E. Lee to Leon C. Simon, and from there it was the usual Giro out to Chef Highway. The Highway 90 floodgate was open, so we rode hard out to the turnaround at Venetian Isles (which was under an evacuation order with the streets already under water because the lake was so high from two days of strong southeast winds). On the way back we again made it through the open Highway 90 floodgate, but by the time we got to the Casino bridge near Lakefront Airport there was a police car blocking the overpass. The floodgate at Dowman Road was already closed, so we had to detour to the Highway 90 bridge, which meant riding back in to town on Chef Highway, which is not a whole lot of fun because of stop lights and traffic and sketchy roads. Matt flatted. Twice. Even so, I was only a few miles short compared to a normal Giro, so that was good.

By the time I got home it was already looking like the hurricane, which was moving at the unheard-of speed of 25 mph, was going to come ashore somewhere in Mississippi. Of course, nobody was making any promises, so much of the day was spent watching local newscasters and Weather Channel people kill time with painfully repetitive talk. They were doing their best to make something big out of the story, but the reality was that this was going to be a fairly minor hurricane, as hurricanes go, and since it was moving so quickly, the effects would be minimized even more. By early evening it was obvious we were going to miss out on all of the excitement. I went downstairs and cleaned the bike and started thinking about Sunday morning. Around midnight, when I was sound asleep, the hurricane finally came ashore around Biloxi as a Category 1. Basically they had about 30 minutes of significant wind and some flooding. It was a bit worse to the east around Mobile where there were more power outages, but in general this storm was more of a nuisance than anything else.

Nice weather for Sunday's ride out to the Spillway.

As it turned out, we never got much rain, or wind even. Nothing even approaching a normal summer afternoon thunderstorm, really. The power never went out, the streets never flooded, the party on Bourbon Street never stopped. I felt strangely disappointed even though I had made only the most minimal of preparations. I took the fern plant and chair cushions inside from the front porch and put the barbecue pit in the garage. Candy had taken the opportunity to stockpile food and water and after work on Friday we'd made a special trip to Whole Foods on Broad to buy more water. I have no idea why. We could survive for weeks just on the wine, beer and soft drinks already in the house. Anyway, I sent out a FB post Saturday evening to the Tulane group, and later to the NOBC group, saying I'd be riding the levee at 7 am on Sunday since I was pretty sure that various lakefront floodgates would still be closed and that Lakeshore Drive would probably be pretty wet.

Sunday morning Elliot, Jerry and Grayson showed up and we did a really nice ride up the river to the Spillway and back, which got me around 55 miles, so I felt satisfied with that even though it would turn out to be one of the lowest mileage weeks I'd had in a while. It wasn't even particularly windy. I spent the afternoon trimming hedges and trees at home, from which my back will probably not recover until Wednesday.

Ride it Out

Nice weather for the Friday morning Coffee Ride.

The weather this morning for the Friday Coffee Ride was so very nice. It was likely the last nice weather we'll see for a few days, though, because Tropical Storm Nate is making a bee-line for New Orleans right now, and doing so at 21 mph. This morning there was a pretty brisk ENE wind blowing, but the sky was clear and air was reasonably cool and dry. I would have liked to have ridden for another couple of hours since I'm going to be really mileage-deprived this week.

On Wednesday I rushed out of work a few minutes early, rode home, jumped in the car, and drove up to Baton Rouge to officiate the first race of the Track series at the velodrome. There was a healthy turnout of 23 riders and some really close finishes in the match sprints. Even with just 200 meter TTs for qualifying and then the double-elimination match sprints, I wasn't back home until around midnight. Then on Thursday I had to go right back to Baton Rouge for a morning meeting at the Board of Regents and didn't ride at all. These things always seem to happen this time of year.

I am hoping to get in a ride tomorrow morning, possibly some version of the Giro Ride, depending on which floodgates have been closed by then, but by midnight on Saturday it should be pretty much on top of us, possibly as a Category 1 hurricane by then. As hurricanes go, Category 1 isn't generally all that bad, but it's nothing to ignore either. Right now we're planning on being back at work as usual on Monday. At any rate, I expect that most of Saturday will be spent battening down whatever hatches we can at home, depending on how the situation looks at that point, and then "hunkering down" for the duration. I don't know who invented the term "hunkering," but I've never been able to come up with a more elegant way of saying what we do when we decide to ride out a hurricane at home. It's really more like waiting for the power to go out and then just hoping the roof doesn't get blown off.

Not Over Yet

October is always a transition month - on multiple levels. The last LAMBRA road race was last weekend, but really that just opens up the calendar for a whole string of "it's not a race" races, the Track Series, and of course the impending cyclocross season. I remember back when late October and early November constituted the "off" season. For a number of years I'd cut back a bit on riding and start doing a little running, entering various little local 5k type races and collecting T-shirts.

Yesterday I spent the whole day at home because the A/C had gone out (again) and I had to wait for the service guys. It turned out that some components on the condenser circuit board had gotten fried, shorted out, and therefore the system thought the refrigerant pressure was too high and shut down the compressor. That little glitch, along with topping up the refrigerant that is apparently leaking very slowly, cost just a hair under $1,000. If the leak gets worse I'll probably be looking at something more like $4,000. This is why I can't have nice things, like race wheels less than ten years old.

So there's another Tropical Depression about to enter the Gulf now. Hurricane season doesn't officially end until the end of November, but generally if we can get through September things start to settle down considerably. This one, which is still going by "TD-16," is expected to become a Tropical Storm shortly and could make it up to Hurricane status by Sunday when it should be coming ashore around Alabama and the Florida panhandle. If it actually sticks to that track we will be on the "good" side, which means north and northeast winds.

This morning the WeMoRi was finally back to its original route, or at least mostly its original route, now that the Wisner Overpass, closed since December of 2015, has been re-built and re-opened. I rode out there a little early, and since I could now go straight up Wisner to the lake I hit Lakeshore Drive considerably earlier than usual. It was super-windy as it's been for the past couple of days, and the lake was really high - up to the top two steps on the seawall - because of the consistent east winds. I was actually just a couple of minutes behind the group, which was apparently taking its time riding into the headwind. I rode all the way down to Elysian Fields, turned around, rode all the way down to Marconi, and still couldn't see the group. I rode back a minute or two and then finally saw the group coming over the levee a the Swim Hole, so turned around again and made it to the turn onto Marconi just as the breakaway came flying by. I jumped onto the last rider, gasping and wheezing and drooling as one does when going from 14 mph and 85 bpm to 27 mph and 150 bpm in half a mile.  Suffice it to say I was already gassed as we turned onto Robt. E. Lee. The small breakaway group of maybe eight started coming apart at the turn onto Wisner and two of us were spit out the back. I was still trying to catch my breath and couldn't do much except hang on for dear life. A couple more guys came out of that break, and we saw Eddie C. at the base of the overpass putting his chain back on, but we never caught the lead group. I'd been hoping that after sprinting to the top of the overpass, and then again on City Park Avenue, they would ease up after the turn onto Marconi, but no such luck. Back on Marconi we were thankfully absorbed by the main group around Harrison Avenue. There was coffee and cake for the group at Robert's grocery since it was a "birthday ride."

This evening I'm going to have to hustle to get over to Baton Rouge to officiate the first race of the Wednesday night track series. Given the rush-hour traffic, I'll be lucky to get there by 6:30 (it starts at 7:00) even if I can get out of the office a little early. My regular track bike is out on loan to Jerry, so I'm thinking about bringing the old Viner with me so I can ride a few laps, although the tires on that bike are about twenty years old, so I won't be doing anything dramatic on them. I'm more concerned with the base tape separating from the casing than from the rim. I pumped them up yesterday and they seem OK, but you never know. If I'm really pressed for time this afternoon I may end up leaving the bike at home anyway.

On Sunday I'll probably go up to St. Francisville for the annual collegiate ride. It's also the annual MS Tour weekend, so I'm sure some people will be doing that.

Up to S'port

The Sunday Giro coming down the Casino bridge onto Hayne Blvd.

After eighteen hours of driving the prior weekend, I was kind of dreading the 5-hour drive up to Shreveport for the Rocky Mount Road Race. On the other hand, I've always liked the course up there, even when it's kicked my butt. The race had originally been scheduled as a Stage Race back in May, but was cancelled at the last minute because of severe weather. I was glad that they had quickly decided to re-schedule it, even though it was ultimately shortened to just the Road Race. Given the late date on the calendar, that made a lot of sense because a low turnout was to be expected. A couple of days earlier I had installed a new set of Campi Record shifters to replace the old Super-Record ones that, by then, had at least 55,000 miles on them and were pretty worn out with broken return springs and generally sloppy action. It was quite a change to have shifters that actually shifted immediately and with a reassuring click!

Fortunately, I was able to leave work early and was on the road by 4 pm or so, not that it saved me from being stuck in traffic heading out of New Orleans and then again coming into Baton Rouge. I was travelling alone, so between the satellite radio and Spotify, and the fact that I wasn't in any particular hurry, it was a relatively easy drive if you ignore how much my back was hurting by the time I arrived. Naturally, when I got to the hotel they were checking in an entire high-school basketball team. Then my room key didn't work so I had to go back down to the desk to get them re-coded. I put the bike and the bag in the room and then went down the street and was that lonely looking guy eating dinner alone at Burger King.

I was up early Saturday morning and enjoyed a relaxed cup of coffee at the Starbucks near the hotel (frankly, that was a major factor in my choice of hotels) before making the half-hour drive up to the road course at - you guessed it - Rocky Mount, Louisiana, which consists of an intersection with a small school, two houses, and an abundance of insect life. Thanks to the 9:30 am start time, the officials were all there early as well, so I got the radio base station set up, handed out a few of the handhelds to the EMS and lead vehicles, dropped off my spare wheels, and rode a couple of easy miles before my 10:10 am start. Despite the expected small turnout, the LaS'port team had everything well under control with lead and follow cars, a couple of moto-refs, police at the intersections, etc.

The Master 55 race would be three laps of the rolling 21-mile course, and with ten riders at the start, ours was actually one of the largest of the day. I have no idea why people don't seem willing to make the effort to go to organized races lately, especially the well-established ones with nice prizes and good organization. The LaS'port folks even had food for everyone after the race. Anyway, looking at the riders around me I realized that I was once again rather badly outnumbered. Six of the ten riders were from the LaS'port team, unless you count Tim Perry who rides for Ft. Wayne Outfitters who lives right down the road and is practically a LaS'port teammate as well. For the past few years Tim has been focused on time trials, and just this year has won his age group at the state championships in Louisiana/Mississippi, Texas, Georgia, Arkansas, and Missouri, and also won the National TT Championship. So you can probably guess what his race strategy was. I was coming into this race feeling still a little tired from 6 Gap, but was determined to make it a workout regardless.

The first lap was pretty steady, although I was pushing the pace a bit on the climbs. Master's races sometimes get really slow, and I just wasn't in the mood for it I guess. Around the end of the first lap Tim attacked and opened a gap that we closed fairly quickly. He attacked again a while later and that resulted in only two of us making it across. Although I knew Tim would eventually take off on a 30 mph time trial, I liked the group of Tim, Grant and me and when we came together said, "let's keep this together!" The next lap and a half was a nice 3-man rotation. Tim was obviously soft-pedaling when he'd come to the front and was going up the hills particularly slowly. I knew there was a group chasing us, so I didn't want the pace to lag too much. I also knew that Tim probably didn't care if we were caught or not since he was probably going to launch a decisive attack on one of the bigger hills on the second half of the loop and drop everyone anyway. Of course, that's exactly what happened about seven miles from the finish. Grant and I were starting to hurt, and when Tim went flying past me about five mph faster all I could do was shake my head and make a feeble and largely unsuccessful attempt to match his pace. Grant and I traded pulls the rest of the way in. I jumped at about 200 meters to go and immediately felt my calf muscle start to cramp. I'd caught him a bit by surprise and had a nice gap, but when I glanced back I could see him gaining on me so I had to accelerate again, just barely making it across the line in time.

I was pleasantly surprised how good I'd felt in this race. I'd been expecting the effects of 6-gap to still be lingering like they had been for most of the week, but I guess the easy ride on Friday gave them that final bit of recovery time they needed.

I rode out to the Giro Ride this morning in a pretty stiff ENE wind, knowing that the wind and moderate threat of rain, along with other things going on in town, would make for a small group. Jaden was there, though, so things were reasonably fast and although my quads were complaining a bit from Saturday's thrashing I was otherwise fine. Granted, I spent a lot of time sitting on the back of the group, especially on the way back when the speeds got fast because of the tailwind. By the time I got close to home I could feel a light rain starting to fall. I'd been planning on riding with the Tulane Sunday Social group at 10:30, but by then it was genuinely raining so I called it a wrap for the week at 284 miles.