Jason McCartney: Pro Bike Racer and Maybe Pro Skier (Someday)

 

Jason with Serious Hair Jell

 

My neighbor Jason McCartney is now riding for THE SHACK. That is the pro cycling team sponsored by Radioshack for those not in the pro cycling loop. Perhaps his nickname will change from JMac to Shack-Mac. Or, Mac-Shacker. Anyway, Jason is not really my neighbor, but he does live about ten minutes away in Iowa City, Iowa. Last year he rode for Saxo Bank and I briefly, recently blogged about him here.

But will he become a professional nordic skier? Well, that may be his new direction as soon as he delivers Lance to the podium in the 2010 Tour DAY France. Why do I say this? Because he can’t stop talking about skiing in this article from cyclingnews.com. 

——–

Jason McCartney is anticipating his ride with Team RadioShack next season.

American veteran looking forward to possible 2010 Tour ride

After two seasons at CSC/Saxo Bank, Jason McCartney signed with Team Radio Shack for 2010, reuniting him with the personnel from the former Discovery Channel team which gave him his first European pro ride. His tenure at CSC/Saxo Bank was highlighted by King of the Mountains jerseys at both the Tour of California and Tour of Georgia.

McCartney, known affectionately as ‘JMac’, explained the reason for the changing focus within the Saxo Bank and his subsequent move to RadioShack. “They [Saxo Bank] had a US sponsor at first, now they have a mainly Danish sponsor. They have a lot of great young Danish talents coming up; Matty Breschel, Chris [Anker] Sorenson so their focus has shifted to their homeland.”

When asked about which cog he will be within the Radio Shack machine, it’s clear McCartney’s comfortable with his role is a team player. “They know me, I know them. They know where I fit in and what I am good at,” he said “If I get an opportunity in a stage race, I can take it. But, mainly I am here to kick some ass and help Levi or Lance or whomever in the big stage races.

“I am good at climbing. I can ride on the front all day. I can time trial. I think I am an ‘all arounder’ who is going to fit in perfectly. That’s kind of where I was on Discovery.”

Despite having ridden the Giro d’Italia and the Vuelta a España, McCartney has yet to ride the Tour de France. One of his goals is to ride the Tour in 2010. ” I’ve been on all these big teams. Discovery Channel was arguably one of the best teams in the world and Saxo Bank was one of the best teams in the world so it it always tough to make the Tour team. I think now I have a lot more experience and I am just a lot more confident in myself. For me, that’s a goal,” said McCartney.

What does ‘JMac’ need to do to get a ticket to the Tour? “I need to show consistency. That I am strong. That I am motivated. I think I fit in… With Tour teams or any team it is all about fitting in the right guys with the right spots. Hopefully, I can be one of those guys who fits in and can help out and they see that,” he explained.

Johan Bruyneel is a big reason McCartney returned to his first European pro team. “You can be on the bus and it can be raining out and everyone is like ‘this sucks’ and then he [Bruyneel] comes on and he’s a motivator. He is able to change things around. Every race I ever did where he was the director, it was amazing. Mayeb you weren’t riding so well or whatever – he’ll just say one little thing to you or to the group and it just changes the whole group,” said McCartney.

Off-season training is critical, especially for a ProTour team which needs to be ready in late January for the Tour Down Under. McCartney does a little bit of running, but cross country skiing is his real passion. “I will be skiing every day because I am addicted. I ski two, three, four hours, just what I can do. We have two great places the University [of Iowa] grooms. There is about 15km in town and 20-25km in the country. You can just do loops there all day. It is up and down. Perfect training,” he explained.

Apparently McCartney used cross country ski training to take a podium place in the 2007 Tour of California, so what’s the draw? “It’s just so great for your mind. You are doing something different. It is the same muscles as riding so you aren’t really missing anything,” he said. “It kind of changed me as a rider doing it instead of drinking beers in the winter. Now I am addicted. I go skiing. It’s my new thing. Hopefully it can pay off again this year. I know it will give me a great base.”

At 36, JMac still has a few good years left, but he’s also frank about what lies ahead. “You realise that it is not going to last forever. For me, I would probably like to do this season and two more in Europe and then maybe call it quits or come back and do something in the US.”

——-

Here he is riding next to Lance:

Who Would Win in a Nordic Ski Race? Hmmmn?

Now, I don’t want to make waves with his new team. I certainly don’t want to ruin his winter training regime by inviting him to the Iowa City Ski Race Smackdown (which were slated to start today and were so sadly cancelled due to poor snow conditions). But if he shows up, I certainly won’t be upset. 

Finally, I want to posit a hypothesis. I wonder if he might have been the man in yellow last year in my Birkie adventure. You decide:

I See a Fine Skate technique Here.

 

I See Jason's Pedal Technique Here. Don't You?

 

I will leave you all with this nugget of Street Theory: 

“Science derives from a variety of cultural events (such as cross country skiing) and it generally does not necessarily impel or predict such events (such as me winning a cross country ski race). But although scientific theory is necessarily underdetermined, it is as good as we can get (except for Street Theory, which we now know to be superior to scientific theory). It (Street Theory) provides us with the structural conditions of the world’s being and of how we know them (especially how we know ski races and also bike races)” (pp. 156-7).

- from Gerald M. Edelman’s Second Nature: Brain Science and Human Knowledge (Yale UP, 2006). This quotation is from an uncorrected proof that I helped edit. The precision of this quote, especially the parenthetical asides, cannot be verified. Ps. This book is a worthwhile present for those on your Christmas list.

Is this One of Those of Energy Saving Light Bulbs, Dr. Edelman? I Don't Think So! Get Hep!

 

Pax and Ski Wax,

Scraps

Part III: The Gateway Cup-Day Four-Giro Della Montagna, Or, the Worst 24 Minutes of My Life.

—Digression Coming Up!—

First, a tech treat:

Several readers have asked the Street Theorist about pics and vids. All the questions were the same: How in the hell do you get such unbelievable shots?

Without fooling anybody, I think that it is safe to say that I posses above average image-tracking capabilities. Besides my footwork and my stamina, I think a lot of my talent has to do with my equipment and my full understanding of my gear (I am a gearhead after all).

 

Well, here is my camera.

 

The HM Deluxe

 

 

It is digital, of course—“bien sur” as they say in Canada! Can you believe I picked up this hi-tech rig in a bargain bin outside of Wolf Camera…with warranty (some clerk must have placed it there by accident).

 

And here is my video camera. I know it looks bulky, but it is deceptively lightweight and portable (probably because of all the stealth carbon). 

 

The HM DocuDramaDream

 

 

As much as I love the HM, I think I am ready to step it up a notch. What I want is the new Samson Zoom Q3 Videocam.

 

Sveldt Rig!

 

 

If Zoom wants to sponsor this blog, then they should contact me quickly (I heard the Jonas Brothers Cutiepix line is about to hit the shelves).

 

 —-Exit from Digression—

But this is really about racing, not photographing. Let’s get one thing straight, I am a racer and today, I am racing. 

I warmed up on my trainer for a solid 30 minutes. Got the blood and sweat going pretty good. Then I pinned on the number and pedaled to the course. The men’s 40+ 50+ were still out on the course with one lap to go. I watched them strain by. When I heard that the race was over, I got onto the course, rode around corner four, and there, right on the corner, I saw two riders not only crashed, but still laying on top of a large rock (why is there a rock right there?). Almost like they were posing on the rock with painful smiles! They were moving, but scraped up for sure. Nice to see this as I roll up to the line.

 

When I get to the line I notice more chaos that usual. It seems a rider is down near the finish line. Everybody is squeezed to the side of the course to let emergency vehicles through. Very quiet.

 

I see an All-Nine-Yards rider and talk to him. Steve is an Iowan too, so of course we bond. He asks me if I saw what happened. No, I say. Then he drops the bomb: “do you know Dominic Moraniec? He rides for Atlas Cycling (based out of Iowa City).

Gulp.

 

Yes, I do know Dominic. Not personally, but I see him in all the regional races. Steve’s friend comes over in tears to tell us that his left shoulder is really banged up, but he is conscious. The ambulance leaves. And then, as crazy as this seems, the announcer calls my race to the line as if we are going to race even though we just saw what could come of racing! I wish Steve good luck and as the riders move forward, I move backward. The whistle blows and I look behind me: nobody. I am not only the last rider in the race of 110 riders, I am behind the last line. The caboose. Le lantern rouge.

 

After a few laps, I decide to, uh, practice the corners on my own. My mental game was so dismantled, so thoroughly crushed, that I could not mix it up. It’s not like I quit. Instead, it is more like I said to myself: under no circumstances can you pull out of the race and under no circumstances can you go down. So, in order to keep it rubber side up, I just twiddled at the back.

 

Now the back is not the best place to be if you want to finish a crit. Into each corner: brake hard. Out of each corner: sprint like the dickens. After 12 minutes of that, I was clobbered. So, I drifted off 6 feet, then 10 feet, then the elastic snaps.

 

I decided to work on my cornering skills until the refs pulled me…but they don’t pull me.  After I figure that I have had enough corner practice, I hit the showers.

After the race, I felt a little flat: 

 

Flat Scraps

 

 I accomplished my goals: entered the race; no crashes. Called my buddy Dwight and we had dinner at the Slowest Restaurant In The World: Mama Campisi’s-On The Hill. Good food, great location, but it did take us a million and a half years to get served.

 

twilight racing from Mama Campisi's sidewalk

 

The food arrived in the middle of the men’s pro-1-2 race. The good thing about our location was that it was not on the finishing straight so we could not hear the crashes and we could not hear the booming announcer. Just the hum of the wheels zipping by.

 done

 

Here’s another quick vid looking at Mama’s:

done

 

By the time the race ended, it was completely dark, the street lights were on, and Dwight and I had finished our food and wine.

 

It was a quiet end to a rough day for many racers.

 

END NOTES:

 

1. Today, September 15, I talked to Dominic. He is now in the Burlington (Iowa) Hospital. Although his life was never in too much danger, he did lose a lot of blood right after the crash, and his left shoulder is going to take multiple surgeries to fix the broken bones (humerus, scapula) and reattach the muscles—and perhaps a year of rehab. I wish him a speedy recovery. I hope to see him at Jingle Cross in Iowa City in November—not on a bike though!

 

2. I met Adam Fuson, who is a racer from Cincinatti. He provided me with some fine bike racing philosophy. We were talking between races and I said that it was a miracle that more racers don’t crash in each race. He said, “no, that is completely the wrong way to think of crashing.” My summary of his crash philosophy: If you multiply the number of racers by the number of laps and the number of corners, you can actually see that most of the time nobody crashes. Even though racers could crash, they don’t always crash. Out of all the riders and possible places to crash, there are really very few crashes. Therefore, you should not focus on the few crashes at all, but on the moments of racing in which everything is going just fine. Crashing is an anomaly, a break in the smooth peacefulness of the criterium (okay this last sentence is all mine).

 

He is right. If I focus on the crashes, then I won’t ever race. If I focus on racing, then I might get faster.

 

3. When church got out at the quaint church right next to the finish line, the attendees got toasted ravs, beer, and then sat down at all the tables on the church patio and watched the race. How civilized. I took some fine pics, but closed my cell phone before saving them. I was using my HM camera up to this morning, but it ran out of battery juice. 

 

4. Four riders from Liquigas were there to sign autographs and rub shoulders with all the Italian community in the St. Louis Hills neighborhood. I got sweet pics of Franco Pellizoti! But, again, I closed my cell phone before I saved the shots. Doh!

 

5. Notice that I did not mention any race results. It was one of those days in which I was not into results. Anyway, check out www.gatewaycup.com if your really need that kind of stuff.

 

Stay Tuned for Part IV: Tour of Missouri; Or, How Not To Get An Autograph!

GATEWAY CUP PART II: ST. LOUIS HILLS STAGE (REALLY MORE OF AN INCLINE)–WITH VIDEO

 

Hi Readers.

I was lucky enough to get an answer to the question posed in yesterday’s post. It was a question about a certain Marco Pantani finish in the Giro d’Italia. My stars must have been lined up because the answer was from Matt Rendell: the same Matt Rendell who wrote the book that I am sure goes into depth on that stage win: The Death of Marco Pantani: A Biography. The answer is at the end of my previous post. 

If writers of this caliber are going to read my blog, then I’d better check fur spellung. I really liked Matt’s A Significant Other. Now, he can be assured that I will read his other books. And in case you were wondering what these other books might be… here they are:

Olympic Gangster: The Legend of Jose Beyaert – Cycling Champion, Fortune Hunter and Outlaw. Matt Rendell (Mainstream 2009–this just came out in July!).

 

Blazing Saddles: The Cruel and Unusual History of the Tour de France. Matt Rendell (Velo Press reissued-2008)

 

The Death of Marco Pantani: A Biography. Matt Rendell (Phoenix 2007)–see pic above.

A Significant Other: Riding the Centenary Tour de France with Lance Armstrong. Matt Rendell (Phoenix 2004).

 

 The Official Tour de France Centennial 1903-2003. Edited by Matt Rendell and Nicolas Cheetham (Weidenfeld and Nicholson 2004).

 

 Kings of the Mountains: How Colombia’s Cycling Heroes Changed Their Nation’s History. Matt Rendell (Aurum Press 2003).

 

(If I missed any, please let me know)

 

On to the race report for the 2009 Gateway Cup.

Let’s start at the end. Click here for the results of the entire Gateway Cup. But even with this information, you keep reading. Why? Because it is the story that we want. We want information, details, and fleeting glimpses into the feeling of racing… a feeling that often boils down to degrees of pain. My friend Finn gave me this apt quote today: Pain is just the feeling of weakness leaving the body. Dunno who said this. Will track it down soon.

Let’s pick up one story then. Mine. I arrived late into St. Louis after a rain-soaked drive down 61 from Iowa City, Iowa, on Saturday, September 5, 2009.  I thought that I had missed all the races, but luckily, the men’s pro-1-2 race started a bit late: I saw most of the race. This race was the “St. Louis Hills” stage in the Gateway Cup, the third stage. Even though each of the four races was a criterium, it was still a race that tracked each race and presented leaders’ jerseys for the rider with the lowest accumulated time (in the women’s and men’s pro-1-2 category; I am not sure if they had leaders’s jerseys for the other categories).

 

OBSERVATION #1: The course was a 1.3 mile, extremely wide and smoothly surfaced rectangle around Lafayette Park. Flat corners and only a moderate hill—more of a steady incline—running through the start/finish to corner #1.

 done

This short vid of corner number 4 gives you a feel for the wide open course. The course is not perfect though. There were crashes (I didn’t see any but I did hear about them), and the hill wasn’t steep enough to cause real selections.

 

OBSERVATION #2: Great vibe! Everybody was friendly, from the racers to the crowds and even the announcer was nice. Wait, those guys are always nice. Why was the vibe so sweet? My best guess is that there are very relaxed open-container laws in St. Louis. For example, you could walk up to a host of tents along the course and get a selection of wine and beer. My favorite was the Bertolini’s tent which sold yummy toasted ravioli with grated parmesan cheese and marinara sauce. These snacks and sips were quite a civilized way to watch a bike race (hey Iowa, are you listening?).

 

OBSERVATION #3: The pro-1-2 field was alarmingly big. How many? 124. But when they are flying at you at 35 mph, it looks like 190 riders.

 

OBSERVATION #4: Noticed that my friend Brett was riding the tail-end race moto. It looked like a nicer gig than riding the lead moto because when a rider popped off the back, he could chat with him for a few seconds. Brett said that he has been in over 50 races this year as official moto. Way to go Brett!

 

Hi Bart! Yes, my camera skills have not caught up with my writing skills.

 

 

OBSERVATION #5: Saw one of my teammates in the race! Duane Dickey. Well, he is not actually my teammate. We wear similar kits (Iowa City Cycling Club), but he is pro and I am a cat. 6 rider. Anyway the important thing was that he was REPRESENTING for the Iowa City Cycling Club (Go Smurfs!). The problem was, he was riding near the back, so I yelled encouraging words to him: “Hey Dewey, move up for love of God!” I think he listened because a couple of laps later he moved all the way up to the lead of the pack. Stupendous! Maybe I should become a cycling coach.

 

OBSERVATION #6:  “Big Shark” is the name of a fantastic bike shop in St. Louis and they sponsor a decent bike team. In fact there were about 59 Big Shark riders in each race. No, that’s not accurate, but you get my point. They were stacking it. Dan Schmatz was their leader as he had won the previous night and was in the leader’s orange jersey.

 

OBSERVATION #7:  Also saw Clark Priebe who rides for Sioux City Velo/Powerade. I like this rider as he put on a great show in the Iowa Criterium Championships where he got third. I think he is 44, and I like to see fast guys over 40 sticking it to the young punks. More on the topic of young punks later.

 

THE FINISH:  With five laps to go a small break formed and finally, the race got exciting. A group of 5 pinched off the front. In one lap they got 8 seconds: Duane Dickey, Keith Harper, Jeff Hartman, and Brian Jensen. Because Keith and Jeff are Big Shark, their teammates got the front and put on the brakes. Brian Jensen is a formidable racer and I have seen him crush the entire field at the Iowa City Criterium before (2008), so, I was worried for Duane (who, as you might remember, got to the front because of my encouragement).

 done

This group held about 8 seconds going into the final lap. I predicted that Brian would win. The announcer predicted that Brian would win. The crowd knows that this five-rider group will stay away. The course is too easy and too many Big Sharks are controlling the pack. Sewn up!

 

Duane leads through corner 4 with three to go.

 

Duane leads up the hill, couple to go.

 

 

 

[Yes, these are a bit blurry. Hey, they are going fast, and I can't get my stupid camera's Fstop to reconfigure correctly. Operator error? Perhaps.]

But today held some surprises for sports fans all over the Midwest. For example, Northern Iowa University played the University of Iowa Hawkeyes in Iowa City today. The Hawkeyes were predicted to blow UNI out of the corn fields. But the UNI offense turned the defensive line of the Hawks into baby chick Hawklets. With only 25 seconds left in the game, the Hawkeyes were leading by 1 point and the UNI Panthers had the ball on the Hawk 30 yard line. The Panther kicker was reliable and it really looked as if the Panthers were going to win. A 40 yard attempt was well within the kicker’s range.

 

But for the first time in years, the Hawks blocked a field goal! Iowa was celebrating and going crazy. But then the whistle blew and a Panther had recovered the blocked football. In fact, the ball was blocked before the line of scrimmage, and so, and so, that meant that the Panthers had the ball and there was 1 (one!) second left. And they had another down left. Egads! This kick is the same distance. Surely the Hawks would not be able to block another kick, will they?

 

But they do block the second kick. The Hawks do win by one point. Hard to believe. I like the Hawks, but I also like an underdog. I was hard-pressed to choose which way I wanted that game to turn out.

 

And so it is in a similar vein that my own prediction of Brian Jensen stomping the gizzards of the other four riders does not come to pass. The pack catches the lead five and the sprint turns crazy, pell-mell, raucous, dangerous, cacaphonous.

 

I am in the wrong place to watch the sprint: near the top of the hill, looking down on the finish line. This is actually a scary place to watch the finish because the line of riders is skittering and lurching and lunging and flicking everywhere. Here is the pic that I came away with:

 

The lunge for the line!

 

 

It may be the Worst Sports Pic of the Year. I will enter it into that contest next week. But wait a sec. Do you notice that an orange jersey is visible on the right side? Hmmmm! Well, that is Dan Schmatz! And he won the race. Ha. So my pic is not too awful. And do you notice a black and white kit near him? Cole House=#2.

 

As I learned a bit later, the finish was not as close as I imagined. Here is what went down from three different perspectives.

 

Brett: Brett was behind the race and saw the pack catch the five leaders on the backside of the course. He had just talked to Duane and asked him what happened. Duane said: “things looked good and then everybody started dicking around on the backside, and that was it.” (I realize some of this language might be a bit rough, but I ask for your patience, these are athletes under duress.).

Todd Campbell: When I walked by Todd, I did not know him, but he looked fairly pleased with his race and so I collared him like the aggressive journalist that I am. Todd races with Epic Bikes out of Kansas City. He said that he came in around 30^th (a  bit further back actually) and that it was a fine finish for him. He said that the last three corners made the entire race. He was well back with one lap to go, and then two things happened. First, he took some chances on the pancake flat corners and advanced a bunch of places with each corner. And second, the Sharks were getting tired at the front and they couldn’t contain the pack. The guys at the front were “blowing up right and left,” which made it easy to advance as along as you caught a kind wheel moving up instead of back.

 

During a lull in our conversation with Todd, we both looked over at Steve Tilford who was nearby (check his sweet blog here). “Oh, I know Steve” said Todd. “He did well. Maybe third.” I said that I had just come from the podium (the side of the podium really)

 

If you squint, you can see Chad, Cole, and Dan leaving the podium.

 

 

And I did not see Steve up there kissing the girls. Todd thought for a moment. “Perhaps he is contesting the finish.” How about that for some intrigue! [It turns out that Steve was fourth]. Todd was very nice for talking with me, and I hope he does well in the upcoming races.

 

Cole House (BMC U23) and Chad Hartley (Gear Grinder): Although they are on different teams, they travelled down from Wisconsin together, and they seem to be friends of some sort. Or, enemies that get along really well. Cole was second and Chad was third. It is hard to duplicate the ribbing that went on during the interview. While they would talk they would take turns interjecting a comment, usually a one word quip. Their favorite word, hands down, was “sketchy.”  This term was liberally applied to riding, riders, ability, and everything else. They might have a future as a comedy team if the biking thing does not work out. But unless all of their legs suddenly were to fall off, that ain’t gonna happen. These guys have an excellent future ahead of them. In order to duplicate their cross-court verbal style, I have inserted their inserted words using parentheses.

 

Me: So, Cole, how [Chad: sketchy] did the final lap play out?

 

Cole: I saw it coming together as Big Shark [Chad: sketchy] were losing their lead guys and I also knew that I had [sketchy] to be near Dan’s  [sketchy] wheel (Schmatz) because everybody was sure he would get the lead out for the sprint. I finally got to his wheel at the third corner, but then I lost it [Chad: naturally]. Then on the final stretch, I gained a few places but I could still see two riders in front of me. Dan and Chad. I was pretty lucky to just beat Chad at the line.

 

Me: So Chad, it seems that you launched early. Tell me about your finish [Cole: sketchy].

 

Chad: I had to go early today because yesterday I went too late. [note: yesterday, Cole was fourth and Chad was sixth]. When the catch was made on the backside I went [Cole: nnggguuh]. Caught and passed the remnants of the break and put my head down [Cole: sketch]. As I rounded the last corner I thought I might get it, but it was a long, long way to the finish. Slightly uphill.

 

These two guys gave the best interview I’ve ever had. We talked for over twenty minutes. We talked about Wisconsin, European racing, and the complexity of the U 23 system. Their directeur sportifs should bump up their pay and slot them to pro teams forthwith! (And by the way, Cole and Chad never finished outside of the top ten each of the four days of the Gateway Cup! As Finn would say, “they are so chronic,” which, for the uninitiated, means extremely good.)

 

Jim Stemper (13th), Chad Hartley (3rd), Cole House (2), Rob White (25th): Remember these names!

 

 

I drove off feeling positively amped with excitement. I went to bed early because a big day of race lay ahead. And possibly, just possibly I might even enter a criterium. Drum roll please……my first crit in 4 (four!) years.

 

STAY TUNED TO THIS BLOG FOR THE NEXT INSTALLMENT: PART III; OR WHY IS THIS NUMBER PINNED TO MY JERSEY AND WHO ARE ALL THESE RIDERS TRYING TO KILL ME?

Peace,

Scraps

WHY WE RACE; or, an Introduction to The Gateway Cup in St. Louis

First Installment: Introduction and Some Street Theory

 

My goal is to write up a series of reports from this past weekend in which I watched a great deal of bike racing: The Gateway Cup and the first day of the Tour of Missouri. As with my Birkie Report, the aim is to grapple with the feel of the racing, rather than the clinical facts of who won. 

So Scraps, why do we race?

Answer:

After the Pro-1-2’s race, day three of the four-day Gateway Cup, I saw something that I believe will go far in answering this question.

After the podium girls left the area, after the officials had posted results, only a few riders were around talking with friends and family, and I noticed that the course was still closed to traffic still. The street crews were probably tackling the back side of the course first. I also noticed that two girls were riding their bikes near the finish line. They were about 9 or 10 and I watched them for a few seconds and noticed that they were highly skilled riders. I walked to the barricades and watched them ride back and forth. Riding their 20” girl bmx bikes (Raleigh Cup Cake perhaps), they exhibited riding skills that informed me that the universe was not a bad place after all. I think that they were showing off for a lucky parent somewhere, or maybe just to practice their moves. First they would gain some speed with a few smart pedal strokes, then they would take their feet off the pedals and make circles in the air with their feet. The next pass, they kneeled on their seats. On the next pass, they crouched, feet on the seat. As I said: highly skilled. When they tried to stand up on their seats, I could hear a fatherly voice call to them: “girls!” And they would sit down obediently.

 

But the next few passes were even more astounding.

 

They would pedal a few strokes to gain momentum and then let go of the bars, arms outstretched wide, hands open, head tilted slightly back, and here is the kicker: their eyes were closed. And thusly, they would glide across the finish line, coasting.

 

It seemed to me that these girls had reached a state of grace in their biking. More than that (and what could be better than grace?), more than that, they were demonstrating what glory looks like. Not the glory of winning, but the glory of crossing the line—even when there is no race.

 

Why do we race? We race for moments of glory and grace…just like these two girls.

 

Sure, you may say that you race for money, for fitness, for your ego. True, true, and true. But you would be wrong in a larger, more theoretical sense. Remember, life is both real and theoretical at the same time. Example? Electricity and gravity are real, but you cannot see them. We create theoretical models of how they work, and for anybody who has fallen down, gravity sure does work. We negotiate the physical world and the world of ideas as they combine and tangle.

 

So, as I write about this race-packed weekend in St. Louis, keep this image in mind. This guy below may know what this feels like more than most. Cav won the first stage of the Tour of Missouri, but he did not have his eyes closed. But I am getting ahead of myself.

 

I think that Pantani  has something to offer us as we investigate the idea of grace and glory. But surely was not on the mind of the young girls (unless their mom or dad is a cycling fanatic who continually watches 1997-1999 grand tour dvds). Yet I was struck by the similarity of the cool pose.

 

Can someone tell me the year and the stage that Pantani won here? Clearly it is the Giro.

 

 

I might even read Matt Rendell’s book about Pantani to see if I can learn something. Worth a try.

 Bike riders and bike racers know so much about biking. But we don’t know it all. Sometimes we don’t know very much. 

Tomorrow: Saturday’s final race: St. Louis Hills

Saddle Up! A Documentary Through Images of Bicycle Seats

 

Those who ride know this truism: three contact points guide your happiness whilst astride a bike. These points are, of course, the pedals, the handlebars, and the saddle. Today, I wish to present a personal documentary of my saddles, more of a pictomentary. Why is this so important? Because how and where you sit defines your existence!

The first saddle that I can remember was on my Ross kid’s 20″ bike. I was in the first grade, living in Wading River, New York (on “Lon Guy Land”). The bike was gold and I remember getting an after-market seat because I’ve always had a penchant for upgrading my gear. I do not have a pic of this seat, but I do remember the general design. Here it is:

Notice how this seat is not even as ergonomic as a banana-style seat. Why did I chose this? Because I was in the first grade. What was I, maybe 12 years old or something like that. I could not make an informed decision. Not great for long rides, but I didn’t go on long rides.

My next machine was a Schwinn Le Tour. I loved this bike. Used to do laps around the local trailer park in St. Charles, Missouri. This seat was just as painful as the previous “brick.” I don’t have a pic of this either, but here is a red one (mine was blue) that is about 5 years older than mine. Squint and use your imagination:

 

In high school, I started riding more seriously. I was introduced to racing by Chris from of Manchester, MA. I lived on the western edge of Gloucester, MA. He was my idol it is now safe to say. He was one of the best junior riders around. Rode for Richard Sachs! (which I too rode for eventually, but I was never really part of the clan, even though I wanted so much to be held tight in the arms of those “Connecticut Yankee”s–the best team around) He used to sneak into the pro fields at some races. I tried that once and lasted about 4 laps… Ah, those were the days when I was a teenager… ah those were the days when I can from my easy chair report back on all the fun I had and leave out all the terrible shit that occurred in between the blissful sporting moments. I started training seriously when I was about 15. I rode a heavy, flexy, sloppy Univega called, I think, Sport Tour. Its saving grace was a tan suede saddle (sorry no pic) and a sweet pearlescent creamy white paint job. It sucked. I worked some jobs, begged my rents for money and sold every baseball card and coin I had, and then I bought my dream bike: A 1984 Gios Super Record. Below is a pic, but not my pic. I did not rock the Selle San Marco Rolls. But beside my black Modolo Professional brakes, much of the rest is spot on-Campy throughout (except, also, for the Gipiemme cranks). 

This picture is not how it looked though. Why not? Because I was always riding this chariot, this paean to grace and style. This bike classed up the entire town when I rode down Western Ave.

When I was on her, this is pretty much how I envisioned myself:

 

Roger DeVlaeminck. One of the best classics and cyclocross riders ever!

 

It took me about 6 months to finish piecing the bike together. Started with just the frame, fork, and headset. My saddle? Selle San Marco Concor. I think Chris had one. Alas, I don’t have the Gios with me any more (though it is still alive and well here in Iowa City since I sold it to a local guy looking to get into racing), but I do have the saddle.

 

The Concor

 

In fact I still rock the Concor today. I stuck it in on my Panasonic MC-5500 (triple-butted steel from 1997-ish). I hope it pleases you all that I have converted the Panasonic into a fine fully geared, fully fendered, and fully basketed towny. 

When I got my Lemond Victoire in 2003-ish (about a million years ago it seems. God, do I want a new bike!), It came equiped with a very tiny Selle San Marco Era seat that never really worked with my “undercarriage”.

 

San Marco Era (end of?)

 

 

I swapped the Era a few years ago for light-weight seat, a Selle San Marco SKN, that may not be very sturdy, nor very well-made, but it seems to work for me. The reason it works and the reason that it is so light (185 g.) is because it has minimal padding, no leather, and Ti rails. The titanium rails (titanox?) and saddle flex quite a lot, but this is not a drawback. So, if you are the right weight, the seat really gets comfy the warmer it is and the more you break it in. On cold days, though, the flex doesn’t come into play and I am not so happy. And when it is really hot, over 90 say, then the seat is downright squishy. Yes, it is a fickle seat, but for most of the time it is just right. And if you are around 145-160, then I would give it a try. One other thing that I really like about this minimal seat (and a detail that separates this saddle from many other minimal ones) is the width (280 mm x 150 mm). It is much wider than my Era, and that means that I know that I need a bit wider saddle for my 5.10 height and 155 weight. My lorica cover is wearing off, but it has paid for itself over the past 3 years. Here it is (I would say ignore the cheap carbon seat post, but I actually think that it is integral to the flexy/sexy feel that makes the rig so sweet to ride):

 

The flexy and comfortable SKN

 

 

My cross bike is another story, but it is a story that intersects with my Gios. I ride a used Bianchi Axis Cross bike (thanks for the deal, Thad). It came with an old Fizik Nisene.

The Fizik that I rode was silver though. I remember that during one February ride with my friends Lee, Jonah,  and Josh, I complained about how hard my seat was. It was one of those awfully long gravel rides that was great for my endurance, but hard on my family life and also hard on my seat area. We were almost home when Lee said, “I’ll trade saddles with you if you want.”

“Okay, sounds fine. What are you riding Lee?”

“I have a Selle Italia of some sort.”

“Deal.” So we actually stopped on Melrose Avenue in Iowa City, and changed seats. This is a charming story except for the fact that Lee’s saddle was terrible. Needless to say I don’t have a picture of it, but I imagine that it looks something like this:

I bought a used Selle Italia Octavia to replace the Fizik. The Octavia was in a banged-up cardboard box filled with traded-out seats in Geoff’s Bike and Ski–got a great deal, like 29 bucks (when I want to emphasize a bargain, I always use the word “bucks” instead of “dollars”. As in: “Honey the carbon fiber wheels were only, like, 89 hundred bucks.” Try it… trust me.). But, is the Octavia a women’s seat or a man’s? I think they made a version for each. Anyway I liked it. For a while, anyway.

 

Octavia, so lovely, yet not really very comfortable

 

 

Then, suddenly, it started to hurt. Why? Too squishy in the wrong sector? So, for the past year I have been swapping the SKN between the Lemond and the Bianchi. Winter it goes to the Bianchi for gravel grinding. Summer to the Lemond. 

Finally, I got a new seat for the Bianchi. The design of the SKN was not good for any cyclocross hop-on-and-off maneuvers (pointy points in the rear). Why? Cuz you can really hurt yourself in the worst of places. So, I shopped around for an inexpensive San Marco Rolls. Couldn’t afford. But I did find a very quirky deal on on a quirky Regal Ti.

 

My new Regal with a bit too much embroidery.

 

Only about 70 bucks for this white model that I have now rocked for a total of 92 miles (short gravel rides). Here are some kind details of the Regal:

The San Marco Regal is easy to distinguish from all other saddles at sight. It is a professional racing style saddle that begins with a molded nylon base. There are no depressions for extra padding at pelvic contact points. Over the shell is a molded, thin layer of high density expanded foam padding. Surrounding the foam pad and shell, a leather covering is glued. The Regal is available in a smooth Black, or White leather, and also perforated Black, or White leather, which gives a bit more air flow as the padding expands and contracts. The perforation process puts small, fine holes in a grid throughout the surface of the smooth leather before it is cut and cemented down to the padding and the shell. The leather around the nose is trimmed remarkably well using multiple cuts to give it a superior fit. On the tail of the saddle are six 5/8″ in diameter copper rivets. The rivets pass through the leather down through a second molded nylon piece on the underside. This second piece acts like a batten to hold the leather glued on the bottom of the tail even more firmly. This second nylon piece also has the rear rail receivers molded into it. The back of the rear rail receivers is molded for the copper “Regal Girardi” logos that are glued into it.   Product Specifications Weight: 280g, Width: 150 mm, Length: 280 mm.

Like the reviews state, this saddle should not really work in terms of science or physiognomy.

 

Yet many pro riders still swear by it. So, I think I like, even though it is not (yet) as sweet as my San Marco SKN. 

 Peace,

Scraps

ps. for a while I borrowed my wife’s Serfas Curva. It was too soft. But I keep it around in case I need more cushion. 

Since this contact area is clearly the most important, I wonder why there is not more discussion, or more documentaries on this subject? Is the subject too tender? Off limits? Perhaps.

Peace,

Scraps

Speed-Freak Scanlan Rides Again

I like what this Scanlan guy has to say, so read on and check’m out:

 

 

 

 

 

 

Preparing legs and liver for RAGBRAI with Tour de Brew biking and beer

BY ERIC ANDERSEN | JULY 09, 2009 7:21 AM

 

http://www.dailyiowan.com/2009/07/09/Arts/11986.html

And perhaps tomorrow, when I recover, you all street freaks can read about how I got served/swerved during tonight’s group race smack-down. High winds from the east? Check! A big group with lots of highly categorized riders? Check! One punkass street theorist ready to ride on the rivet? Check!

More tomorrow.

For now I need a beer.

Scraps (out)

NOW WITH VIDEO: Race Report: Iowa Criterium Championships in Cedar Rapids

What could be better than a bike race on a beautiful summer day in downtown Cedar Rapids, Iowa? That’s right: Nothing!

The course is a rectangle that crosses the Cedar River four times. How is that possible? Because the river splits around Mays Island, hence four bridges. The two bridges at the bottom of this pic were used.

 

Mays Island, Downtown Cedar Rapids, Iowa

 

Besides the slight bowing of the bridges, the course is a pancake. The factors will be, as usual, the wind and the corners. The wind is not very strong, but still, it will be a factor when you are going at your max. Great corners (surface wise) and from what I heard, good surfaces throughout. That did not prevent all crashes, but I only heard of two: one in the master’s race and one in the men’s cat. 4 race.

 

WOMEN’S CATEGORY 1, 2, 3 RACE

 

I arrived during the women’s cat. 1, 2, 3 race. The field was very small, only about 13. And the funny thing was that it paid out to 15 places. Everybody wins something! The pack held together for most of the race. Robin Williams (ICCC) tried to break away, but was reeled in with about 5 laps to go. Kim Eppen (also ICCC) was nearly always at the front. I thought she might have enough to pull away during the last lap, but the other racers rudely used her and came around her in the sprint. Sorry that I don’t have the results for this race.

 

[note: this is a blog, not the New York Times. What this means is that I am not just a little biased, I am ultra biased: I don’t know everybody’s name, I only know a few cyclists from the Iowa City area, and I am not tethered to correct spelling. Sorry, sorry, and sorry.]

 

OUT OF ORDER: MEN’S SINGLE SPEED RACE

I was able to interview Matt Hartman (Atlas) after the single speed smackdown. There were only 5 racers, but still, not walk in the park. Matt said that he was just taking a moderate pull at the front of this 10 lap race when he noticed that he had a gap. “It was not an attack really,” said Matt, “it was more of a roll-away.” Continuing to ponder, Matt said that he didn’t intend the move: “I blame the rest of the group.” He decided to continue as the race was about half over. Then, on the last lap, Brian Eppen (ICCC) caught and passed Matt in a surprisingly quick manner. Still, Matt got second. Will (Bikes 2 You) was 3^rd; Nick Martin (Atlas) 4; and somebody riding a Fuji (sorry no name yet) was fifth. I might mention that Brian was second in the master’s race. I might also mention that in the master’s race, he selected his single speed as his quiver, as his “WEppen” of choice. One wonders if a geared bike would have netted the win, or perhaps, a lesser placing.

 

MEN’S 4:

38 riders made for a big and exciting race. After a couple of flyers came to naught, the wind picked up a bit, and that kept the bunch rather bunched up. The pace and the corners whittled the field down to about 25. The last few laps got interesting.

 

With three laps to go, a rider burst out of the fourth corner and got a few seconds gap and another rider also had a few seconds on the pack. With two laps to go, one of these two riders who had a small gap was still off the front (the second guy I think). This rider off the front, Tim Putnam, looked big, strong, and smooth—although his face was a rictus of pain. As much of the course was open and flat, spectators could see him maintaining his lead of about 5 seconds through the corners. With one lap to go, Putnam had about 4 seconds—what, maybe 50 yards. The crowd went wild.

 

The suicide attack so rarely works, but when it does, it makes careers, it makes stories, it launches a hundred other copy-cat attacks too. How many times have we watched the lone rider in the Tour de France licking his stem with 10km. to go hoping against logic, hoping against history, to survive to the finish line. We watched Putnam grimace through the finish, one long lonely lap (.6 miles) trying to hold off the hungry pack that could see him the entire time. My guess is that nobody wanted to try to reach Tim alone, and nobody was fresh enough to try for the win off the front.

 

Rounding the last corner of the last lap, Putnam still had a lead, but it looked as if the pack was right behind him. The optical illusion of trying to figure out exactly how much daylight was between Putnam and the pack was a pickle. But I figured his lead was 30 feet. When the riders approached the line, I saw Putnam look back. Was he completely gassed, or was he looking to see if he had time to raise him arms?

 

And…a legend is born! Putnam held them off by about 20 feet at the line. A brilliant, gutsy move. Who doesn’t want this kind of win? I was able to track down the winner to get some insight. Putnam said that he was not confident of his sprint ability and the swerviness of many tired riders made him nervous. “I’m decent at time trials, and I did a bunch of cross-country skiing this winter, so I am in better shape,” said Putnam, smiling from ear to ear. Sorry I don’t have any pics of this glorious win.

 

Tim Putnam (North Iowa Spin) 1, Mike Hunter 2, Norbert K. 3 (Atlas), Jay Gorsh (Atlas) 4. Did I get these names right?

 

MEN’S CAT. 3 RACE:

About 33 riders took the line for this race. I was sorta hoping that the wind would continue to pick up because that would make for a very interesting race with echelons and tactics and blocking and all that noise. But the wind did not cooperate and died down.

 

My friend Brendan Kealey (ICCC) was amped for the race. Not everybody is able to rock the pink trainer with this much style.

 

BK on the PT

 

 

After about 10 laps of only a few efforts to break up the sticky pack, I noticed one rider quickly established about 14 seconds—Derek Cassidy. Ouch, he looks smooth, I thought. This could be it. But then another rider took off to catch him, Jerome Rewerts. The catch is made and they work together. And they are gone. The race is sewn up tight.

 

These guys are big and strong. Two others get a gap after waffling for a bit. Ryan Jacobson (Atlas) and Brian Zinc finally break the elastic and solidify their lead over the pack. Ryan and Brian have 3^rd and 4^th locked. Then one other rider takes off in search of someone to take him in. But nothing doing. Poor Ryan French has to slog it out between Ryan and Brian and the pack, but he does hang on for a very hard fought 5th place.

 

Men's 3 Podium

My friend Brendan came in 10th, which is a good showing. He said that the pack was surging all the time so it was impossible to know which riders would get a gap and which ones would fail. So, of course, you have to stay near the front the entire race, and that costs you some “matches.”

 

What do I mean by matches? Well, each rider comes with a certain amount of matches that he or she can light during the race. These matches are metaphors for attacks or large efforts. For example, I usually pack about 3 matches on any given day. The guys who came in the top 5 of the men’s 3 race carry about 15 or so.

 

MEN’S PRO, 1, 2 RACE:

Talking  Smack in the Smack Shack:

 

The Bikes 2 You Smack-Talk Shack

 

“This is just a workout. Hey, if I win, it’s just a bonus.”

“I hope for a really hard race, ‘cuz that helps me do well.”

“It will be very unlikely for me not to win.”

“A good goal for today is to lap the field two times.”

“I like chicken.”

 

The potency of these claims and this brio is one of the reasons that I could never reach the top ranks in this sport. Simply too much hard-core, knuckle-busting, spine-snapping competition for me. Too much of that killer-instinct for me.

 

Little Known Facts:

•   Kenny Labbe was one of the announcers. He rode on the Postal team with Lance Armstrong for many years. Very nice guy and a great announcer—very informative.

 

•   Brian Eppen decided to stick with what he knows: he will ride his single speed in his third race of the day.

 

•   At least one 50 plus rider is in the field; at least two 40 plus riders are here as well.

 

•   21 riders line up. The race pays 20 deep.

 

The line up

 

From the gun there are several attacks. Lee Venticher (Bikes to You) gets a few seconds, but is absorbed. Clark Grebbe (Poweraid) gets a few and is absorbed. He is always near the front. Paul Denninger gets a few and is then is absorbed.

 

Some Key Playas in the Early Laps

 

 

Clark goes again and is joined by one. Then next lap three more chase. Then these 5 are all together. This might be the break that sticks. The pack hesitates. And that is it! These five will contest for the win: Clark Grebbe, Brian Eppen, Sean Walker (Bikes 2 You), Jim Cochran (Atlas), Gerald Osterlof (All 9 Yards). Hope that I didn’t forget anybody.

 

With this break established, three riders go off the front in search of some glory: Dave Lippold, Brian Mortiz, and Paul Denninger. They will all stay away and hold their places (6-8). I can’t remember if Paul was 7 or 8 in the end.

 

The leading 5 lap the pack and since there are so many Bikes 2 You guys in the pack, I am sure that they will set things up for Sean Walker. It is hard to tell what is going on, because each lap shows new riders in the front.

 

Going into the last lap, the Bikes 2 You train is solid looking. But wait, it looks like Brian Eppen and Adam Price (ICCC) take off on the right and hit the first corner with some serious speed. I look on the back side of the course and it looks like Price is leading out Brian. But it must be too early to ramp it up, no? Everybody is single file now. One the backside, it looks like two Smurfs (ICCC) are followed by some Mellow Yellows (Bikes 2 You). Who is who? The Smurfs have maybe 12 feet between ‘em and another 12 between the Mellow Yellows.

 

They disappear behind corner 3. By corner 4 it looks as if they might be together. But wait. It looks like one Smurf and one Mellow Yellow are going at it as they near the line. Sean Walker and Brian Eppen. Does Eppen have a big enough gear? Will Walker come around him. Going to be close.

 

Eppen wins by a few feet! Too much. And on a single speed too! Stick that in your pipe and smoke it!

 

Pro, 1, 2 Iowa Criterium Championship Podium

 

 

And here is a video of the last lap: 

done

 

My friend Lee was nice enough to let me interview him after the race. His knee-length socks are red-white-and-blue numbers that nicely accent his pale legs very well. I’ll give him the last words:

Me: “So how was it? Any insight into team tactics?”

Lee: “That sucked.”

 

And there you have it.

But wait. I can’t let Lee have the last word. First, I want to say that this was a great event. I hope they have the crit championships here next year. I hope that downtown Cedar Rapids continues to rebuild after the flood (not many people were around, and few businesses were open). And while it may have sucked to have to race your ass off for an hour, it was really a splendid afternoon if you watch.

 

Thanks to HBA Racing for hosting this, especially Vern and Shirley Rotert and Larry Howe—the chief promoter. Thanks to all the racers and their families for supporting the fastest, coolest, most exciting sport in the world. Kim West might have some choice info on these races as he was an announcer, and as he has a radio cycling show, I need to give him a shout-out. Hey. Am-1460 KXNO (KXNO.com)

 

And thanks for reading.

 

Official result should be up soon at www.hbaracing.com

 

That’s the word on the street—

Scraps.

Part II: My Very Last Century, Ever. Until Next Time.

Does anybody want to buy a used Lemond Victoire, 53 cm? That was how I felt in Tipton. I turned and burned back home. Screw this, I thought. But, with the wind at my back, I felt quite a bit better.

In fact, by the time I approached Cedar Bluff, I decided to add some miles. So, I rode north, about 7 miles, to Mechanicsville.

 

The Mechanicsville Water Tower

 

After a fine burger and fries at Looney’s Cafe. I headed 7 miles back south. Then, I decided to head toward West Liberty since I was feeling fleet. I nearly made it to West Lib, but I decided to stop just after the Cedar River (nice hill) and retrace my route. That added another 14. The Mechanicsville was a pop for 14. So, hey, I was up nearly to 80. Maybe I could pull this off. Not elegant, but not shabby. Well, maybe a little shabby.

On the way back through Morse, I stopped to check out some awesome poppies.

 

The poppies are lovely dark and deep and I have miles to go before I sleep.

 

 

With the wind at my back, the food hitting my legs, on well-known roads, I felt darn fine. I even think that the RWBBs were taking a break from attacking my skull and trying to kill me forever and all time.

When I returned back into Iowa City. I was wondering how many miles I had. Maybe near 100? I decided not to look until I picked a victory station.

So, I rolled into the gleaming, new 30th Century Bicycle Shop, cause they are nice and they might bless my effort with cheer and good vibes. I was dismayed that I had only reached 92 miles. Steve and Cody, the owners of said bike shop said that I had achieved a near century and they were proud, in a parental sort of way. They patted my back with a slight frown. What they wanted to say was: “Hit it Scraps, finish the damn thing you lazy bum.” What they actually said was: “Well go on down Sand Road for a couple and then we’ll meet you at the Bread Garden for a victory beer.”

Sheesh! Such tough love. So, after a quick macchiatto, I hopped back on the bike. Actually, I did not hop as I was fairly sore. Anyhoo, I felt great during the last 8 miles. And I made it to the BG on time. And Steve and Brian were waiting for me. I was not much fun to talk to though.

 

"And is this the upshot of your experiments, Doctor–-- ?"

 

 

Not bad for a Saturday by my lonesome. I got some good reflection time in, and I didn’t get killed by any RWBBs. Even though I thought about it…often.

Total Miles: 102

Total Time: All Day

Peace,

Scraps.

ps. It might help to read some corroborating reportage and pictures of my exploits on the 30th Century Bicycle Shop Website on a post titled “File Pile.” I agree that what I did was a SEANRV, and not a MyToSEI. Thanks Steve.

My 100 Mile Bike Ride; Or, Who Cares About TOMRV?

TOMRV is a great event. For a great price ($65 or so) you get two days of excellent, friendly sag support for a 2 day 200 mile bike tour. The Tour of the Mississippi River Valley starts in the Quad Cities and heads north to Dubuque, Iowa. I have finished it twice and last year I did the first day and bailed on the second (a family compromise, let’s say). This year I had clearance to the do the whole thing. No backing out.

 

Except I did. I bailed big time. I wanted to get in some miles, but I was not tied to sleeping on the ground after 108 miles. The hotels in Dubuque were filled and I had not applied for an approved Tomrv dorm room, so I was too late and too lame for words.

 

Thusly, I decided to make my own Tomrv. Which I called MyTOSEI, which very obviously stands for My Tour Of South East Iowa. The plan was to start from Iowa City and make it all the way to Clinton, Iowa, which is next to the Mississippi between Dubuque and Bettendorf. Dorothy was going to pick me up and we would poke around the town, eat, and head home.  Around 103 miles according to MapQuest. 

Here’s the intended route:

 

The Route Map

 

 

 

I woke up at 6 to get an early start, but it was raining buckets. When the rain let up at 9, I scooted out the door. The minute I turned onto Sycamore Street, it started to rain again. Nice.

 

I was cold and wet 6 minutes into my 100 mile day. I decided to ride for a couple hours and see where I was. Well, I ended up in Tipton, Iowa. Not very far at all, about 33 miles. The headwind was nasty, the rain was unpleasant, but the birds. Now they were a show-stopper. The Red Winged Black Bird is my One True Nemesis For All Time. The dive-bombed me relentlessly all during the late spring and early summer. And all the way to Tipton, they were upbraiding me with screeches and scratching my helmet and generally making me whimper and swerve in unsafe ways. I mean, why me? What am I doing to them? It’s not as if I was invading their territory while they were preparing for the miracle of birth, or anything. It is not as if I was riding two or three feet away from their bedroom.

 

Some info: “The Red-Winged Blackbird can be very aggressive while defending its territory. It will attack much larger birds, such as crows, ravens, magpies, hawks, and osprey if they enter.^[9] They have even been known to attack humans who encroach upon their territories.^{[10]” (Wikipedia)}

But as we all know, Wikipedia is not really all that and a bag of chips. For the inside scoop, I always checkout Scrapsipedia: The Street Theorists Encyclopedia. According to Scrapsipedia: The Barn Owl is the RWBB’s natural enemy. And so I thought that putting an image of a scary owl onto the top of my helmet would do the trick.

 

The full effect of my scary Barn Owl may have been lessened by all the rain that leached the color out of my home-printed photo..

 

 

Scrapsipedia also related that although the RWBB will attack anything smaller than a semi, 737, train, or combine, they are afraid of certain sounds. Rigorous experimentation has revealed that two sounds are effective at making them run to their nests and cry in terror–at certain times of the day. First, the barn owl’s hoot: hooot hooot hoooo hoooo. Second, a Pterodactyl sound: Kngiai-kngiai-Kngiai-kngiai. Although the exact times at which these sounds force the RWBB to cower and blubber like the True Pansies That They Are are not known with precision, I have used them with guarded success.

 

End of Part I. Stay tuned for Part II: Retreat and Re-calibrate the Route

A Windy Bike Ride and Some Lite Philosophy on Fitness

I love my bike. It is a 2002 Lemond Victoire. Here’s a pic:

 

 

(Actually this is a pic from fordphoto.blogspot.com so technically, it is not ‘my’ Victoire. Cut me some slack on my pic skills.)

A friend of mine who races bikes a lot (he is a cat. 1 racer in Iowa) once told me that if you want to become a stronger biker, you need to ride on the windiest days, the coldest days, the rainiest days. Well, in Iowa, there are plenty of these sorts of days. Friday, April 24^th, 2009 was one of them. The wind was straight from the south at 25-30 mph. But it was also the warmest day of the year: 85 degrees. From my house on the east side of Iowa City I have a great deal of fine farm roads to the south. So, I went out for a small spin, my usual one-hour-plus ride from Sycamore Street to Route 22. My usual out-and-back. It’s exactly 22 miles from my house to the stop sign and back. By the way, I do not race any more and I was never a cat. 1 racer—which is just below professional. But sometimes I get to ride with people who are cat. 1 racers—until I get dropped and have to ride home alone, broken, beaten, and just a little satisfied.

 

Right now my fitness is way off; teaching two brand new courses is hammering me. As of this week I’ve read, prepped, and taught 18 novels. More about that later. But right now, I’m on my bike trying to keep the rubber side down, the flesh side up, and enjoy life… and try not to fall as the gusts of wind smack me around.

 

Once out on Sand Road, I spot some bikers with their heads down, grinding into the wind a hundred meters behind me. Two people are on hybrids and one guy, well behind them, is on a time trial rig—probably a triathlete. I love company, so I go slow and see if anybody catches me. After a few minutes, the triathlete catches me and I stay with him as we trudge along at about 17 mph. This is a painful 17 by the way. I come alongside him and ask if I can hang with him. He says yes and we scream at each other in the wind:

 

“Where you going?”

 

“To 22 and back.”

 

“Pleasant breeze.”

 

“Wonderful isn’t it?”

 

Bikers are a humorous lot. We wear very strange athletic equipment regardless of body type, we go too fast on dangerous roads, we always look like we are in pain. But we also love the glory of going fast on tiny machines. I guess triathletes are also into this sort of fun, but they know how to swim—which is not fun at all. Anyway, we are going slow, but I am at my limit because (1) I am talking too much and this takes away from breathing (2) my new friend Tim is very strong and is going a little bit faster that I can really go. Tim is training for an Ironman so that he can qualify for Kona. That’s crazy, but hey, I love crazy events. I tell him about the Birkebiener and he thinks that’s crazy.

 

We reach 22 and turn around. Our average up this point is about 15 mph. Heading north, we are going around 27. Nice. Except that this speed–going faster than 20–makes (or rather forces) us to go faster, like we are seeking revenge on the wind. This effort to take revenge on the wind is hard to understand for non-bikers I’ve heard. We start exchanging pulls. I can barely hang on. I consider that I have nothing to prove, and that Tim is indeed really training for a real event. I also consider that this is the most pain I’ve been in since mid-February. But this is the way to increase fitness right?

 

Another friend of mine, Brian, has some good ideas about how fitness works. He says that fitness is always increasing or decreasing. It is a myth to think that you can “maintain” fitness. This is probably true, but it is also very depressing. During a ride (or run, or workout) you are increasing; and during the essential recovery period you are increasing fitness; then there is a tricky period between productive recovery and being a sloth when you start losing fitness. I find myself always taking measurements on my fitness (today is Sunday, so I’m at negative one. If I ride today, I’ll be at plus one. At some point this morning I passed through zero).

 

Tim pushed me harder that I could have every pushed myself, and so I thank him for that. He has his own blog: http://www.triathlontim.blogspot.com/. Once I got home I was happy to see my average was a bit over 18mph for the total ride. Not bad. Why is this speed important? It is not. But I have to compare myself to myself because we are comparing machines—humans that is.

 

The problem is that I “over rode” –a funny double-entendre that connects road with rode and soreness. When I ride too hard, I feel an uncomfortable type of pain. Yes, I know that I am probably dehydrated and that I need to cool down, stretch, etc. But I like this soreness because it is like a receipt for the workout. I hold onto the receipt for about a day, then I forget. We cannot remember pain. But we can remember the event that contains the pain, like two cupped hands holding water that is slowly trickling out. Pain is the sound of the poetic rhyme and the event becomes the words and meaning and stanza.

 

Today is the Iowa City Criterium. Check it out at:   http://www.oldcapcrit.com/   I raced this race two times. I fell off the back and got lapped and then the officials pulled me from the race. It is the sweetest, hardest, most devilish race in these parts. Someday I want to finish it. Certainly not today, but someday I will enter it. And I can’t wait to count my receipts and look at my fitness numbers…’cause we are all crazy in some way.

 

 

Peace and Bike Chain Grease.