Validation

Reading through my latest issue of COG magazine I was happy to run across this little quote - it accompanied a review of the latest "cycling jeans."

"... this urban cycling "trend" isn't going away anytime soon."

I hope not.

Tomorrow my partner, Bianca, and I are heading back down to Pioneer Square for a second fitting with Matt and Maikoiyo at Georgetown Sewing. Exciting times that' for sure.

I doubt many folks die unhappy because they took too many risks, I speculate that few last words are on the order of "damn I wish I hadn't taken so many chances, I should have taken the safe route, stayed close to home." Bianca and I are taking a shot here, we're not sitting close to home, we're not "doing what we do best," instead we're doing what we don't know anything about. And hey isn't that what it's all about.

5000 Miles

The goal for 2012 is to log 5000 miles on my bicycle(s). I've decided that these should be actual road/trail miles and that the trainer and rollers don't count. Bummer because I spent two hours on the trainer today.

I signed up for a 30 mile mountain bike race in May. 30 miles on a mountain bike is a significant undertaking. I'll have to start racking up some trail miles.

What Was I Thinking

With the possible exception of going to college every worthwhile thing I've done in my life has had a "what the hell was I thinking" moment, so when I woke up the other night wondering "what the hell am I thinking trying to start a clothing company," I took it as a welcome omen.

The guys at Tarboo provided Bianca and I with a first run sample of our urban biking pant. I was able to get about 40 miles in them before Donna cut them up in preparation for iteration number two. I'm getting a big kick out of working with Matt, Mikoyo and Donna at Tarboo; it's a nice feeling when you are confident that you've found the right people.

Single Speed

I showed up at the MFG Raceway CX at Marymore with only fifteen bucks in my thin wallet, so the first order of business was to saddle up and ride to the nearest ATM. Fortunately I’d arrived ninety minutes prior my race and, doubly fortunate, the bank machine was only about two miles away. Unfortunate was the three bucks I had to pay to make a withdrawal, but that’s a different story. A different story entirely.

After paying up, I skirted under the danger tape and hit the soggy course. Kore Kross has gotten me accustomed to the funky off camber hillsides, claylike slime and zero friction when wet blue paint; I felt like I had a bit of a home field advantage, excepting, of course, all the other guys who do Kore Kross. The layout of the course was nice, no crazy tight turns or barriers placed on uphill sections, the short wooden stairway was right up my alley – the more running the better I say.

I took two solid laps and then returned to the car where I screwed my rear skewer into the trainer and worked on getting my heart rate up. I’ve found that I have to push through what I call the “race heart attack” before I can really settle in and start pushing hard. It happens about five or eight minutes into the race, suddenly I can’t seem to get enough air and I swear I’m going into cardiac arrest, it only happens once and if I can push through it I’m set for the remainder of the race. I’ve had my ticker checked out on a stress test – I watched my heart beat in real time, that was cool – and I’m totally fine, it’s just one of those things. Anyway my plan now is to crank up my heart rate pre-race, so then I’ll be good to go by the time the starting gun fires.

I was only on the trainer for fifteen minutes when the announcer said that all ten thirty racers should be at the starting line. Heck it was only ten fifteen. I undid the bike and rolled over to the start line. I entered at the back and started nudging forward – using the tactics I learned in the eighties to get front stage at the big arena rock concerts. So many teammates, I think there were seven or eight of us in the forty five plus race. The rain had stopped but I was cooling down fast, start the race, start the race.

I was in the rear third of the pack at the start, but I got a number of lucky breaks during the lead out drag race and rounded the first turn in the top third. I only use one chain ring in the front and had switched to a thirty four tooth ring, it looked kind of tiny, but combined with a eleven twenty four in the back I had more than enough gears. I was rolling along really well when I slid out while paralleling a slimy slope. I got up fell again, lost my chain, fixed that got up started pedaling only to realize that my left shift/brake lever was broken off. Good thing I don’t have a front derailleur. Midway through the second lap I broke the shift mechanism on the right side. Now I was down to one brake and one gear. Luckily it was a good gear.

As I came around by the parking lot I seriously considered just ducking the tape and going home – mechanical failure – who would blame me. The biggest problem I had wasn’t the lack of brakes or gears it was holding onto the broken shift lever. I normally ride on the hoods and my left lever was held on by rubbery rubber. If that lever came off completely I was going over the handlebars.

Honestly I don’t think I would have placed any higher had I had a full set of twenty gears. Riding with a single gear wasn’t a terrible handicap. Maybe I could have spun up the hills a little better, but really it was no big deal. I never really got used to that SRAM Doubletap stuff anyway; breaking the levers gave me an excuse to switch out to Ultegra. Dang those shift levers are expensive.

Under Pressure

My Office - my dad gave me that

pencil in 1983 - used it ever since

Still trying to crack the cyclocross nut. Got beat up fairly bad last night at Kore Kross. My main problem is holding a tight line on the grassy corners: I routinely get passed on the tight curves. Yesterday I mounted up a pair of Kenda Kross Supremes; I went to three bike shops and these were the toughest tire I could find. As a side note I’m a bit surprised by how little space Seattle bike shops dedicate to cyclocross. The races here are immense – the turnout dwarfs that of road races. In addition the cyclocross design is far and away the most versatile bicycle style: if I could only own one bike it would be a cross bike. Anyway I got new tires and pumped them up to a risky thirty five psi.
Prior to my first cross race I’d heard that you should run your tires a bit “soft,” so I raced with what a road racer would consider low pressure – eighty psi. I’m lucky I didn’t kill myself. Now I drop it all the way down to the mid-thirties - seriously risking a pinch flat – in order to rail through the corners. I know it’s possible to hold a tight fast line through the grassy curves, but still I’m wobbly, wide and sketchy at best.
The new tires didn’t make much of a difference, so I guess the rider is at fault. Unlike road riding, it’s hard to practice cross racing, especially grassy turns. There are a few trails near my house where I can practice single track riding, but most of the courses that I’ve seen have a lot more grass than dirt.

Be The Aggressor

Rode cyclocross training last night, the evenings are getting darker, wetter and colder around here. Only the geezers and die-hards remain in attendance. I enjoy these Wednesday night sessions because they allow me an opportunity to work on my aggression.

A young guy showed up last night – I’d never seen him before – with a Motobecane single speed and he tore up the course. Normally when you get tangled up with another rider there are a lot of apologies and oh go ahead’s but this guy bashed on past without so much as a flick of the head. He wasn’t goofy and unpredictable, like most of the juniors, he was solid, he was fast and if you were in his way he was going on by. On the final lap I decided to take his queue and upped my aggression three or four notches.

It’s easy to suck wheel in cyclocross. First of all, if you’re a road rider sitting on a wheel becomes kind of ingrained behavior. Secondly it’s easy. The guy in front will always take the best line, so if you want to get around you’re going to have to take the longest, roughest, suckiest route. In other words, passing is really tough. You have to really want it. At the North Bend race two weeks ago my wherewithal was put to the test. On the final two laps I ran up against the tail end of the 35+ racers (I race 45+) and if I wanted to get anywhere I had to push past. It was a good lesson; I kept my pace up, pushed on by and didn’t look back.

Ying and Yang in Ballard

Had some business in Ballard yesterday and was able to spend a rainy hour walking the main drag. Stopped in at the Dutch Bike Company some coffee then wandered north stopping in at Second Ascent - just to see if they had anything cool - they did.