SCX #1 2012 Steilacoom Race Report

   

 Let's FLY over the barriers !!

Back in 2005 Hottie suggested we go and watch a pro bike race down in Tacoma at Fort Steilacoom.   It didn’t take long for me to convert to the Gospel of Cyclocross.  Two weeks later I was racing. Every race at Ft. Steilacoom since has been special.

We brought along the woman who has come to be known as the Cyclocross Superfan; Betty the (Cyclocross) Beast!  She came with cowbell in hand and peanut butter and jelly sandwich in her padlocked purse.

Betty the (Cyclocross) Beast a.k.a Superfan on the right, Granddaughter Sophie on the left

We arrived just before the first race took off.  We managed to find a spot and soon the team tent went up and lawn chairs and trainers were out. 

Our team has opted to throw its support behind the MFG series this year, so our numbers at this Seattle Cyclocross event were thinner.  Seph snagged a fifth place in his race, which had a field of seventy young studly riders.   Leann had a good finish in her race as well. 

Matthew was among the select few who met for some Cyclocross practice Saturday morning.   We practiced turns, starts and some hot laps at a local park.  Our morning practice ended when Matthew ducked under a branch whilst taking a turn and the branch caught his helmet, then his glasses, then cut his nose, and finally sliced his eyelid.

We had one of our quiver of doctors riding with us and Matthew is an RN himself.  Soon Matthew’s wounds had been cleaned and he had ice on his face.  He got a ride home and just based on how Matthew was talking, I fully expected to see him at the race Sunday. 

Sure enough Matthew rolled up to the tent on Sunday with his right eye purple and swollen shut.  He came to race. I’ll just call him “Blood and Guts” henceforth.

Blood and Guts and I took a couple laps and Matthew was running a notubes front tire. With a belch sound, his tire flatted and he was walking back to look for a pump.  He didn’t mention that he was looking for a sign from a higher power to help him decide if he was supposed to ride or not, but things were lining up for a good day for him.

Our race was at 1:30, which is pretty late in the day, especially a hot day, for Davo to race.  My daughter and her family came so I had four generations of fans rooting for me.   How could I fail?

Kyson enjoying the day and the races

Clayton isn't even two weeks old and he is cheering on Grandpa Davo

I'm not sure what he did wrong, but I'm sure choking him stopped it..

Blood and Guts himself had crashed in a bloody mess at the start of this race last year on the rough pavement and that thought was heavy on my mind at the start. As a result I found myself pretty much at the back of the pack a minute into the race.  That wasn’t the plan.  I began to move up.

After a set of grassy zig zags and barriers at speed (way to go SCX !) we were squirted onto a hundred meters of singletrack then a long loose section where I blitzed past a few riders.  Then we took a sharp loose left hand turn onto dusty climb where I continued to move up.   Then a soft switchback and the climbing continued. The middle of this portion was loose dust with a wider trail of grass on the left and a narrow patch of trail on the right side.  As I expected everyone went left and I took the right side and moved up. 

There was a long downhill on gravel that claimed more than a few riders. My daily commute includes a short gravel section and my training from that has taught me to shift my weight back and let it ride.  That worked well and I was able to survive all five laps of my race.  On the last lap a rider from Blue Rooster was in a heap and had to leave the race in an ambulance.  We were then slaloming around big trees before attacking the final climb.

After the climb we were spilled out on a short section of single track. The single track here started the day with a couple patches of dusty potholes and evolved into a long skinny beach of loamy quicksand.   That sand grabbed two riders in front of my on the first lap and pulled them down on the right side as if they had been tacked by linebackers.  I jumped from the right to the left side and, adopting the racers mentality, I dismissed them with narcissistic indifference.  I wouldn’t see them again today.

A short steep descent on a glass smooth road with a dusty sheen led to a sharp left onto loose bark then some grassy turns, two more barriers, again at speed, and then you cross the line. 

I continued to move up and can’t recall being passed by anyone.  I was catching single speeders who started a minute ahead of us and I spotted Spinner John struggling just ahead of me on his single speed. I had been chasing a rider in my cat and he passed Spinner John and John asked him if he was a Cat 3 racer. 

There are three races at my time; single speed men, Cat 3 men 45+ and Cat ½ Women.  Now let’s fire up our powers of deduction.  The guy who passed Spinner John was on a geared bike and he didn’t have boobs.  It therefore strikes me as a dumb question. Although it was only the second lap, John was gassed and couldn’t have chased anyway.  Just before entering the single track I blitzed past John on his right and said, “All us 3’s look the same.”  It startled John and I felt bad for a second. Maybe two seconds, no… as I think about it just one second.

I moved up and up passing riders on single speed bikes as well as my own category.  On the last lap I was passed by the first woman who gave me a warning shout; “on the inside.” I gladly swung wide and thanked her for the verbal warning.  Riding her wheel was a guy I had passed earlier.

“Hey, I opened that spot for her,” I said out loud as he pulled along side me on a sweeping right hand turn.  Before he could respond his front wheel slid out and he went tumbling off course as I smiled and realized there was no need to say another word. 

Evo looking fast.  No I don't have braces, that is dirt in my teeth (just like last week actually)

I settled in and on my last lap I committed my own mortal sin of waiting to pass a rider I was chasing.  I was behind him at the barriers eighty meters from the line and he remounted and cut off my line as the course swung left and I tried to go right and ran out of room.  Will I ever learn?

I finished 24^th of 42 fast guys and know I can do better.  I was pleased. Blood and Guts grabbed a top ten with a ninth.

Evo and the Hardman himself, Blood and Guts !

I had dust in my eyes on my teeth and my legs looked like I had spent the summer in Arizona.   I was tired and glad to be done.  My fans came over and we had pasta on the deck and enjoyed our Indian summer evening.  Or is that a Native America Summer now?

Cyclocross Pedal Review Crank Brothers Eggbeater 3

These Rock !

There are a few assumptions that can be made for almost any cyclist. One such assumption is that everyone has at one time or another owned a bike make by Specialized. Everyone who rides off road, including Cyclocross, has owned at least one set of SPD pedals. Evo is no different.

I can recall the race in the Seattle Cyclocross Series at the classic venue of South Seatac. The day was wet and the mud was sticky. I had just passed a small group of riders on a short run up and I remounted and went to clip in. I tried, and tried. Too much goo on my shoes and thick mud caked on my Shimano SPD pedals. I groaned as the riders I had just passed flew past me. I finished in a foul mood and cursed my pedals. That week I got a set of Eggbeater pedals and I have never looked back.

The pedals look different from everything else out there. They don't have a platform per se. For many this is disconcerting, as you don't have as big of a "target," to aim your foot at. The upside is that mud has very little real estate to call home. The "open" nature of the pedal also ensures that any mud that does accumulate can easily be pushed through with minimal effort. Another benefit is you don't have to worry about pedal orientation when clipping in. There is no platform to hinder your cleat from engaging. When your shoe contacts the pedal if your cleat is not over the cage, you can slide your shoe forward or backward and it engages.

The Crank Bros cleats have a unique and excellent feature. You have two mounting options so you can vary your float when you install your cleats.

A design feature that can viewed as a positive or a negative is that release tension is NOT adjustable. This means as a rider you won't have little screws to lose, or a crash because you set your release tension too tight or too loose. At first I was bothered by the lack of adjustability, but I can say that after six years I have never had a premature release and when I have crashed or needed a quick exit, they have been predictable and consistent. I now consider the lack of adjustability to be a huge positive.

I have lubed them a few times and they are still going strong. A little love goes a long way.

To get the ideal set up, play with the included plastic shims (add them and test, remove them and test) and if you are wearing carbon soled shoes, get the shields to protect the carbon. You will know when it is right as the release is exactly when you want it and clipping in is easy.

The cleats are brass, so the soft material will alter the feel over time. If you service your pedals you will go through an extra set or two of cleats before it is time to retire the pedals.

I did try a set of the cheaper Eggbeaters and found the engagement clunky and release awkward and variable. If you are looking to save money, don't look at your pedals. Get the 3's or the 11's.

How happy is Evo with his pedals? I won't even think about using anything other than Crank Bro pedals. I do entertain trying a race with the new Candy 3's, but it hasn't happened yet.

The Eggbeater 3's (or better) get a full five of five Evos !

 



 

Using the "Window"

Sometimes you just can't get enough Tux !

After my Race Sunday I felt pretty good. I knew, however, that I was operating on borrowed time. I had crashed and while the adrenaline had come and gone, the soreness hadn't yet set it. The skies were clouding up and I guessed that it was now or never for my concrete project. I worked for a few hours and it was all good when I went to bed, tired, but intact.

Monday morning came and it hadn't yet been twenty-four hours since my race or since my physical labor so I felt pretty good. I went to the Y and did weights. Then during my day at work it caught up with me. My shoulder ached from the crash and my calf was sore from the pedal encounter during the crash. I took some Aleve and a back rub from Hottie in the evening to put me straight.

This morning I rode in and did my (new) usual in-season intervals on the ride. I felt a little sluggish, but not too bad and was able to get in the requisite suffering. Only after I was at work did I eclipse the twenty-four hour time window since completing my weight workout Monday morning. Oh those hip flexors...

I am now realizing why the riders in the Tour de France have mixed emotions about rest days. You can't really rest, or the pain sets in. If you keep riding, you keep that window open.

I discovered this over labor day weekend when I had a miserable home project that involved, stacking wood, digging, nailing, hauling six thousand pounds of cement first onto a cart, then into the car, then out of the car, then into a wheelbarrow, then mixing it and finally shoveling it into place. I did this ten to sixteen bags at a time as our car cant carry more than that. At the end of each long day I dreaded how I would feel the next morning. Every time to my surprise, I awoke and felt okay. It wasn't until Tuesday when I was back at work that the magic twenty-four hour window expired. That sucked!

There is a point as you grow older when you do something you know will cause you to hurt later. Those are borrowed time moments as the reckoning always comes.

As I try and race faster (and why not at least try?) I am figuring out this window thing and will try to use it to my advantage.

I recall many years ago a neighbor coming over and asking how many bruises were on our children's legs. It seems her daughter's doctor had told her that at her age her daughter should have ten to fifteen bruises on her legs as an indication she is being active enough.

I don't know how many scrapes and bruises I should have on my body as an indication that I am active enough for my age. I am, however, confident that I would meet that criteria.

 

First Blood Kick off cross race report 2012

Evo rippin it up in 2012 !!

Remember this shot from the Tour de France?

After a leisurely Saturday spent putting fresh cables, bar tape and brake pads onto my cross bike the season kicked off Sunday.

We arrived early and put up the team tent. My mom (the human pallet jack) came out and helped with the set up. Hottie did most of the heavy lifting and took some great shots as well.

We cheered on Scott, Willard and a different Scott in the early races. Spinner John raced as well. He had his traditional race expression that made one wonder if he was passing a kidney stone during the race.

A loop around the course was encouraging. Some power, some technical and mixed terrain. I got in a few warm up laps and was excited to race.

Call ups were by number and it wasn't exactly a well oiled machine as riders snuck in and nobody said anything. I was it he back of the Cat 3 45 plus pack, so I wasn't too worried.

At the gun (or whistle, or holler, I can't recall) we were off. Just as I got rolling someone in front drifted way left into my lane and myself, and twenty of my riding friends grabbed our brakes. Soon we were up to speed, the we were stopped as the course turned from a thirty foot wide road to a four foot wide dusty trail and we were there waiting for our turn to go.

Soon we were zipping along a gravel road and then we were dumped onto the dried grass and a zig zag course that allowed us to string out a bit. There were clever off camber corners that if taken tight at the apex, would spill you down the hill and toward the tape. If you went tight you would find yourself braking then accelerating. If you started wide you could keep your speed and avoid the off camber. I was riding well and passing riders and then we were pinched as the course went onto some single track that included a wooden footbridge. With both feet on the ground we had to wait to go single file whilst the leaders were gaining minutes on the other side of the single track.

When I emerged I quickly moved up on a long gradual corner then a zig zag and onto the road for a long uphill that would be a site for suffering on later laps. The climb topped out as we rounded a tree and then a screaming descent followed by a dry dust right turn on asphalt that saw many a rider slide out. The descent continued on a gravel road followed by a one eighty turn that would be the sight of my crash in a few laps.

A fun banked corner followed by grassy turns and two barriers and a steep uphill that would see many a rider dab, stumble, stall and fall. Then we crossed a parking lot and more grassy zig zags as we gain elevation. Then a long off camber that dumps you onto the road for a short sprint to the start/finish line.

As we passed the finish line I saw six more laps to go.

The pinch points caught me on the second lap as well. It was frustrating to see the gaps I had gained with handling and/or power disappear as I waited to climb the dusty path or cross onto the single track. I took notice that I was behind Matthew and Big John and ahead of El Hefe and Tom B.

As the laps ticked on, John moved up and then I was moving up on him. I saw El Hefe gaining on me as well. On about the fourth lap I was in the middle of about eight riders and we were poaching each other in corners and on the brief straights. As we hit the long road uphill, the race fatigue showed and I was able to power past ALL of them and take my lead on the descent. El Hefe caught me and he moved to the front of a small group of four or so riders I had just caught onto.

On the fifth lap Sam (El Hefe) was pulling away and I was hanging on to my group. Tom B was way behind and Big John wasn't too far ahead. After the climb and screaming descent I took the dusty turn wide and shot down the loose gravel. At the bottom was a turn and someone else came in tight after I came in wide and we both hit the apex at the same time (albeit from different angles) the laws of centrifugal force are always enforced and I went down hard and rolled over.

That little drip of blood in the Curtlo head badge is soooo cool. I may look for some clear nail polish so I can keep it forever!

When I got up I was dazed and losing time. My left calf had caught a pedal and was cramping so I walked a few feet before remounting and discovering my chain had come off. It took me a full minute to get it on and I gored the middle finger of my left hand in the process.

I remounted and Tom B had caught me and asked if I was okay. Tom is a surgeon and if I had stopped and shown him my finger he would have had to stop (trapped by the hypocratic oath). Beating Tom was my goal on the day, so I had to dig to keep him from going ahead of me.

As I continued on the lap I realized my finger didn't just hurt, it was bleeding. It was bleeding a lot. It was someone's bright idea to wear our white jerseys for this one race and I didn't want to get blood on it. I wiped my finger on my shorts because my brake lever was getting slippery from the blood. As I streaked by the team tent I wondered if anyone would notice my bloody hand. I guess I was just going so fast they couldn't. Even my own mom would shout "go 20/20," which she said to every rider on my team. If she doesn't recognize my face she won't notice my bloody hand.

Bloody lever....

I was actually feeling really good and was preparing to gas it for my last lap. I could not see crowd that I had been racing with ahead of me as the gap from my crash was large. As I approached the finish line I looked at the lap board and it said "finished." I was done.

Aside from my crash I was pleased with my performance. I didn't have my usual miserable first race of season finish. I felt strong, my handling skills were good, and I had something left in the tank that I will get to use next time.

After making my way back to the team tent my mom offered me a crumpled Kleenex to wipe my wound. Declining to mix her mucus with my blood I went to the first aid tent. In our other local series, they lay you out and treat you. In this series they hand you a handy wipe and a band aid.

As the adrenaline wore off my finger started throbbing. A tooth of my crankset had pierced my fingernail and all injuries to fingertips hurt more than they should.

We watched the kids race and then McWoodie and Brad tore up the master 1/2's.

Returning home I cleaned the bike and washed clothes (twice, as this is cyclocross and my white jersey still isn't back to its usual white splendor). I showered and washed the blood and dirt off and then cursed when I dried off and got blood and dirt on our white towel.

How do I know it is cyclocross season? After my shower I grab the antibiotic cream and dab it onto my left hand, right hand, left shoulder, left leg, right leg, and left hip. I don't know where most of these scrapes and divots came from.

Oh yes; it is good to be racing cross again!

Video Review.. Jeremy Powers Cross Camp

This is the cover.  I just bought the download, so I only see it for a second..

Yes I bought it.  It was affordable and I'd fill my shoes with peanut butter if it made me faster.  Will this video make you faster?  Will it make me faster?  That is the question we ask ourselves before we shell out our hard earned bucks.

I once had a Geology professor who said something that always stuck with me.  He said, "If they sold smart pills, I'd stand in line to buy some."  My take away from that is you do what you can to be better. Now on to the video.

The video covers the full spectrum. Jeremy starts with what he packs and what he wears in different weather conditions.  As a veteran of several season that have included sun, sand, mud, rain, snow, ice etc. I know a few things. I watched and listened to every word.  I learned something.  Also, like so many things, we forget and it is easier on my body to be reminded as opposed to suffering in a 2012 race and then remembering.

This was the tone for a lot of things. Yeah, I kinda knew that, but it has been dormant for a long time and this was a timely reminder.  There were also some things that I learned that I didn't know before.  Will I use them? Yes I will.

There is slow motion section on tire pressure that is worth the price of the video.  He covers run ups, cornering, barriers (no hopping) and sand.  The video is good.  It will make you faster.  If you race in my category, don't buy it, I'll loan you my copy.  Oops, I forgot it, I'll bring in next week..

What do the pros know that we don't?  My second year at Nationals in Bend Oregon I raced and watched races.  There was a corner that was muddy and everyone, and I mean EVERYONE took it tight.  Then when the pros were warming up, they took it wide and kept their speed. Every pro took it wide.  What do the pros know that we don't? They know how to go fast.  Want to go fast?  Buy the video.

Because it isn't too expensive, too pretentious, or too basic, I give it Five of five Evos !

Here is his website

Pedaling toward Jesus

Blinded by the light

These are weird training days for Evo.  With the Equinox fast approaching the sun is lining up so that every time I turn east in the morning (and every time I turn west in the evening) I encounter this deity-like light.  I've been doing intervals on the way in to work twice a week and it seems to be paying off.  I'll find out this weekend when I pin on a number and race with the Cat 3 old men. 

This week, after my usual fifteen minute warm up, I crossed 220th street and took a deep breath and checked the time on my bike computer. As it ticked over I got out of the saddle and with a firm grip on my bars I cranked. On the first pedal stroke, my right pedal sheared off. 

Yeah, I know !

To my amazement, I stayed up, managed NOT to gore myself, or even scrape myself. I coasted to the side of the quiet street and stepped off the bike. I looked at the bottom of my shoe to see if there was a pedal stall attached. There was not.  I looked around. I could not see it anywhere.  I paused and tried to get my pointed head around what had happened and what I should do.

Hottie and I shared a cup of coffee before I rolled out, so I knew she was awake. I called the her and in a few minutes she brought the team car with spare pedals and tools (is she AWESOME of what?).  Tux came along for the ride and seemed happy to be out. I know I broke all of the self sufficient rules, but if I had called for a ride home and then driven to work that would have been more fuel burned and a good workout missed.

Hottie is ALWAYS prepared to take a picture..  

Note the Stanley Coffee mug, the Road ID on my right  wrist, the Stella 300 on my helmet 

(the helmet was on sale for CHEAP) and my frame pump.  

I have NEVER had to use the frame pump for an on-route flat..

After the bike was returned to working order I kissed the driver of the team car, I resumed my ride.  In five minutes I was doing intervals and sucking air.  During my recovery between intervals I pondered upon my pedal failure. My thoughts ran from, "I am so freakin' strong, the other riders should just step aside and let me win all the races this year," to "I know I lubed that pedal a while ago..."  In the end I concluded I was just cheap and had squeezed a bit too much out of my pedals.

As I turned the right hand corner the sun blinded me and I had to come to a complete stop just so I could see if there was traffic on the road. There was; I waited and crossed and resumed my workout.

I had a home project that I tackled over the long weekend. I took of Friday to get a head start.  It was manual labor that, among other things, involved mixing ninety bags of cement in a wheelbarrow with a shovel and then shoveling it into the forms I put together using twelve doors that were left over reclaimed from our remodel project.

My hands are numb and my back is sore. My neck is sunburned. My body feels a strange combination of being a grandfather yet feeling alive from the aches and scratches that remind me I am living a full life.

6,472 kilometers so far in 2012

As my loyal fans may recall during my riding in the French Alps we all committed to make the transition from miles to kilometers.  Last year, for the first time in my fifty plus years I rode over four thousand miles. I passed three thousand miles earlier this this year.  Grab your conversion table and you can see how far I've ridden in 2012.  Six thousand four hundred and seventy two kilometers is a long way.