Back to Reality

Seeing that I'm signed up for VT50, I figured I'd better dedicate more of my riding time to mountain biking. I ended up doing 3 (2 of the hot variety) laps of the Winsted Woods course last Tuesday. A mere half mile from my house, it's a good training ground to work on my tech skills. It was WAY drier than my last venture up there so the trails were nice and tacky and it was fairly enjoyable.


Don't get me wrong, like most anyone else, I love being in the woods. However, I have one major beef with mountain biking. Lack of efficiency. The terrain coupled with the heavy bike (~27 lbs) make for some super slow going at times. I find this frustrating. Maybe it's the fact that 91.853% (actual figure, at least as % of miles ridden) of my riding this year has been of the ON road variety. I think I've been riding long enough now to realize what I'm NOT particularly good at (relative to myself anyway) and that's mountain biking. I find it absolutely thrashes my legs. It seems to be very similar physiologically to cyclocross. Perhaps that's why alot of the super strong cyclocrossers mountain bike and vice versa. Full gas, recover, full gas, recover. Over and over again. I find I can recover from the efforts alright but the problem is that my full gas is really more like 3/4 gas. I liken it to me driving a 1981 Diesel Volkswagon (sorry Doug, had to steal your year) through the woods chasing 300 horsepower turbo rally cars. Great. This is at least how I felt the other day trying to keep my buddy Brian in sight. I do take solace in knowing that he is a former Root 66 series Expert champ. And to think I was feeling pretty good about myself after 6 Gaps.


I wonder how much of my sub-par "mountain bike physiology" is a product of my genetics and how much is a product of "training". Mountain biking is very snappy. Road riding is more or less a steady continuous effort. Some days I feel like I can go ride at 18 mph for 10 hours. Take me out on a spirited 2 hour romp in the woods and I'm BLOWN. It's interesting because through the years I've put my legs through myriad activities. I played basketball all through my youth. To make up for my lack of height I was very quick and had a 36" standing vertical. This would lead me to believe that I have a fairly high percentage of fast twitch fibers in my legs. Also, when I used to run, I was decently fast in the 40 yd. dash at ~4.7 seconds though I did have the endurance to run a sub-15:30 5K. I really don't know. Maybe I just trained the shit out of my legs and they just became well-adapted for the functions I put them through. This leads me to believe that while we do have a genetic ceiling in regards to muscle fiber types, there seems to be a large percentage of fibers that are highly trainable. Or maybe I have a high percentage of highly trainable fibers. Ah, forget it.

As the great CB2 once told me while we were slogging through a half foot of crusty snow at 5mph, mountain biking and road biking both complement each other. Each addresses weaknesses inherent in there respective realms. Mountain biking without question has improved my bike handling and overall balance. Not to mention, my leg strength has also benefitted a great deal. I'm glad I got a mountain bike though some very twisted folks out there would probably prefer I got one without supsension AND gears. I do love being out in the woods and getting my ass handed me to boot. Everyone needs a good whooping now and then. It keeps the ego in check.

Summits, Sardines, and Slow-Twitch Freaks

"The limit of endurance, I found, was long after a tortured body had cried in agony for relief."



-Slavomir Rawicz, The Long Walk



If you are into testing the limits of your endurance (like I am) and you do the testing with your bike, may I suggest you venture North and tackle the 6 Gaps of Vermont. The ride is everything it is hyped to be- and then some. Kinda like Lebron James. Whereas D2R2 is analogous to getting smacked in the face by a 5 year old 50 times, 6 Gaps is like receiving 6 (if not more) blows to the midsection from Mike Tyson. Pick your poison. Personally, having now done both, 6 Gaps will test your manhood like nothing you can imagine. I will now go on record to say that Lincoln Gap is the toughest climb around (sorry Ascutney, not even close) and I would really like to meet the person who disagrees with me.

I've always had this perverse affinity for hills. In fact, "hills" is listed in my "Likes" in my high school yearbook. Of course, this was when I was running them and honestly I think riding them is harder. WAY harder. Perhaps it's my personal physiology that weighs in on my opinion but climbing hills on a bike hurts real bad. It seems that cycling allows you to max out both your anaerobic AND aerobic systems (much unlike running) to make for an incredibly painful yet "enlightening" experience. Of course, as you ride more and more (at least for me) hills that once were an absolute battle to the core become in a sense easier. It becomes not so much a matter of getting to the top but how fast I can get there. Well, 6 Gaps is a ride that has a retro feel in that it will make you feel like you just started riding your bike again. Speed is a non-issue. Survival is.

Looking back, most of the ride is a blur. I awoke to rain at 6:30 and it wasn't until I was about 5 miles from Rochester that it cleared up, thankfully. Temps were in the low 50's at the start so I went with arm warmers and vest to give myself some flexibility. Quite frankly, conditions were ideal for the 20-30 minute ascents up the Gaps. It was a bit cold on the descents but I would quickly warm up as soon as we hit the flats. I remember starting on Brandon Gap. It was a slow drag up to the summit with a few kickers that may have hit 13-14%. The pace was pretty high as a few of the riders with us were only doing 4 Gaps. I managed to keep the 4 Gappers within a 100 meters or so. Andrew Gardner, a mountain goat with the MetLife cycling team, however, was nowhere to be seen. I kept repeating "There's alot of game left" to myself because the last thing I wanted to do was bury myself on the first 2 or 3 Gaps.

We crested Brandon without incident and we had about 15 miles of flats before Middlebury Gap. Pace at this point was comfortable for a while and we chatted amongst ourselves. We soon did get a nice paceline going and were moving along at ~27 mph. I honestly don't remember much, if any, of Middlebury Gap. That's not to say it wasn't hard but I rode it at tempo and descended the other side with Dave to our first stop. I was feeling ok at this point but that would all soon change... We had about 20 miles to Lincoln and in between we had a little spanker called Granville Gulf on Rte. 100 that tacked yet another 500' onto the legs.

Descending Granville Gulf, there seemed to be an anxious pall that had descended upon the group. Little did I know, the source of the anxiety was Lincoln Gap. I remember talking to Jon Eichman on the way up Granville and he said in a very serious tone, "Lincoln will demand your utmost respect." I'm still on the fence as to whether it's a good or bad thing knowing what pain lies ahead of you. Regardless, I was soon to find out.

Lincoln Gap starts out innocous enough. It has a steep pitch in the beginning fairly short in length and then you have flat dirt for a while. At this point we were all strung out. Doug was within a 150 meters or so, Brett was just ahead with Andrew, and Jon and Dave were a little behind me. The dirt section of this road was in good shape. As soon as the dirt turned to pavement, shit hit the proverbial fan like nothing I've ever seen. Just imagine a wall of pavement slapped on the side of a mountain. I honestly don't know how this road was paved in the first place. I honestly don't know who would be stupid enough to ride a bike up this bitch. Oh yeah, I am. All I can say is that this climb is the REAL DEAL. Anybody that doesn't agree is lying to themselves. It is a legitimate 20+% for over a mile with ZERO relief. Imagine doing a one-legged press and a subsequent hamstring curl of ~170 lbs (Alex + bike) for 15 minutes. In my 34x28, I was churning away at 40 rpms, the equivalent of ~4 mph. And yes, as advertised, shifting my hips toward the rear wheel would mean wheelie time. Getting out of the saddle was a lesson in futility; My HR was just about pinned at ~190 so I just kept my head down and plugged my way up the mountain. Jon was just off my wheel and I remember being extremely jealous of those few extra teeth he had on his rear cassette. (I wonder how much faster (if at all) I could have ascended had I a 32 in the back.) Out of nowhere I hear a "Yeah, baby!" from Dave apparently at the point when Doug caught and passed Brett just up the road. I had originally thought that Dave was just relishing in the extreme pain of our 4 mph Conga line. I did find it incredibly funny at the time. Did I mention I have an odd sense of humor?

We all came together at the summit where the Long Trail actually crosses the road. Andrew was there for a while, followed by Doug, Brett, myself, Jon, and Dave. I thought I had it bad in my 34x28; Come to find out, Andrew was in a 39x26! Wow. It turns out he's an ex-singlespeed mtber. That would explain his ridiculous out-of-the-saddledness. Without hesitation, I asserted that Lincoln was the toughest around. Period. Even Ascutney's worst sections aren't close to Lincoln. After waiting several minutes for the others, we began our sketchy dirt descent. It is extremely steep going the other way and I wasn't about to throw caution to the wind on this one as there was still "alot of game left." I nearly lost it when a dog ran out and scared the shit out of me on a dirt section about 2/3 of the way down. I think I'm just conditioned to all dogs being electric-fenced. Not so in these parts. 70 miles and 3 Gaps to go.

App Gap was next up on the menu. I was told they finish at the summit of this one in one of the stages of the Green Mountain Stage Race. This Gap was to be my favorite. I rode tempo with Jon for the first mile or 2 with Andrew and fellow power tappers Brett and Dave just up the road. Jon and I have remarkably similar physiologies, at least HR wise. As we climbed the lower slopes together our HRs were within a beat on several occasions. I decided to have a bit of go on App. The grade was to my liking and the switchbacks were well-placed to get in a good rhythm and allow for a brief recovery. This climb was nice also because the last 2K's of the GMSR were marked on the side of the road so I knew how much I had left to contend with. I caught Brett with about 600 meters to go and closed on Dave up the last 250 meter ramp which is a sustained 19% to the summit. Yeah, it hurt BAD. I caught up with Dave as we crested by the radio tower. I stopped to take in the scenery, pull up the arm warmers and zip up the vest. The descent down the switchbacks on the other side was the best of the ride in my opinion.

We all reconvened at the store in Waitsfield. The group that was once 12 strong was now whittled down to 5, as 3 more riders decided they'd had enough with 4 Gaps. I knew this was going to make the already hard ride harder. Great. Not to mention, one of the guys that came with us was pretty much blown. This meant that what were once 30-40 second pulls on the flats with nearly 10 minute rests now became 2-3 minute pulls (I was doing a half mile each time) with about 1/3 less rest. You can understand what this is starting to feel like with 4 Gaps in the bag and over 90 miles in the legs. Just prior to the beginning of Roxbury Gap, Andrew gets a flat. A nasty 2 inch long piece of wire was the culprit. After a 10 minute rest while he changed it, we get going. This next couple of miles were to be the worst I would feel all day. I had a hell of a time getting blood back in the legs but thankfully things worked out for the better and I started to get them back on Roxbury. I was fast approaching the world of dubiousness, which according to Doug, means that the ride is doing what it's supposed to do. Wonderful. Doug, Andrew, and I crested Roxbury together after a spanking little dirt section the last 100 or so meters. We again regrouped and made our final stop at the store in Roxbury. Doug and Andrew downed sardines (gag) for sodium while I drank my 4th and final Coke of the trip. Hey, it works for the pros.

It was at this point (~100 miles) that my legs were really in a world of hurt. The most I'd done so far this year was about 5.5 hours so I chalk it up to muscle memory. It's funny how the body remembers. Well, we had 30 miles left in the "game" and I knew they were going to be soul-searching to say the least. I soon started counting tenths of a mile (much like D2R2) and I knew each half mile pull I took would bring me that much closer to the end. The 20 miles before Rochester, the final Gap, were flat with a slight downhill bias. Let me tell ya, any deviation from verticality was welcomed with open arms. This section wasn't without difficulty; Our good friend Mr. Wind had to make an appearance.

We make the turn on Camp Brook Road for our last Gasp, oops, I mean Gap, Rochester. With 120 miles and 10000+ ft. in the legs, this 1500' monster was going to be the last hurdle before the descent back to our cars. Andrew took off again but I kept him in sight. I remember Doug saying that once the guardrails stop, it's over. Well, let me tell ya, they never ended! The last 1K was a consistent 17% and it was here that I caught up to Andrew who again was putting on a ridiculous out of the saddle climbing display. I guess I was feeling pretty strong. I had half a notion of trying to go by him (I don't need KOM's to stroke the ego) but we crested Rochester together. (Not to mention, he buried himself on the previous 5 Gaps.) He did give me props for "thrashing" the climb. It's nice to get that kind of feedback from a Cat 2 climber. I guess I got my ego stroke afterall.

We rolled down the other side and not 2-3 minutes into the descent, Doug comes blowing by us at 45+ mph. It turns out he hit 50+ on 4 out of 6 of the Gap descents. Crazy. I don't think I broke 48. Apparently Doug was eyeballing his ride time and knew if he bombed Rochester he had a shot at a Gaps record. Rochester was my 2nd favorite descent behind App. I'm not sure if the fact that it dumps you right back at your car factors in to my high descent rating. Yeah, probably. Doug, Andrew, and I got back to the lot for what would turn out to be a new Gaps record despite a slight modification to the route.






A true dragon's back if you ask me.






Profile courtesy of Doug

Final statistics:

130 miles

7:19 ride time

11,700'

17.8 avg.


This was the greatest ride of my short cycling life. I would like to extend my thanks to Doug Jansen for his organization of this ride. His passion for cycling is contagious. I can't tell you how many times I've emailed him over the last couple of years with questions and he's taken the time to answer every single one of them.

I would also like to express how grateful I am of my girlfriend's support of my 2-wheeled hobby. Rides like this wouldn't be as fun without your support, Em!

Lastly, I'm thankful for my health. I don't think we relish enough in the times that our bodies perform how we want them to and get frustrated and impatient when they don't. I can remember when I started riding a bike less than 3 years ago. It came on the heels of almost 5 years of just swimming and yoga as my running odometer had flipped for the last time. The pounding had taken it's toll and so I was relegated to non weight-bearing activities. Despite developing life-long friendships in the pool, my soul still had the thirst for adventure. I never thought I'd be able to ride a bike given my bum left knee. But, I was patient and 10 mile jaunts on my mountain bike have become epic hillclimb rides. So as you can imagine, to be able to just do a ride of the magnitude and intensity of Vermont 6 Gaps is truly a blessing.

Pre 6-Gaps Thoughts

I think a pretty cool t-shirt design would be to pluralize "Gap" and put a silhouette of mountains within the red circle. Then on the back, list in order each of the gaps with profile, length, and avg. gradient. At the very bottom, draw a line as if adding each of the Gaps, and sum total the length and feet climbed. Just a thought.


I fully intend to "Mind the Gaps" tomorrow. The length and difficulty of this ride garner my utmost respect. At the moment, I'm stuck in that mental purgatory where I'm asking myself, Self, "Are you fit enough for this endeavor?" and "Have you done too much?" I'm hoping that the 2500+ miles and 240K of climbing I've done thus far will suffice. I definitely feel stronger than last year but I'm just hoping I'm fresh for this beast. After a hard 80 with 9K of climbing last Saturday, Tuesday night Amstel Gold (which I podiumed by the way), and a moderate ride on Wednesday, I was pretty fatigued yesterday. Thankfully, I was able to get a solid 9 hours of sleep. Hopefully, I can duplicate that feat tonight in the posh Red Roof Inn in Killington.

You see, that's what absolutely boggles my mind about the Pros, especially Grand Tour riders. Recovery. It's not so much the speeds (25+mph for 160 miles the other day in the Giro) which are amazing in themselves, but the fact that they get up and do it again day after day after day after day after day. I know, "That's why they're Pros" is what you're thinking. But, just for their bodies to be able to handle such loads in an event like a Grand Tour, their off season training must consist of 30+ hours a week of riding. I could see cycling becoming very unfun with that amount of riding. Thankfully, I'm not a Pro. It does however, make you feel like an amoeba on the evolutionary scale of cycling. Any domestique riding on a Pro Tour team in a Grand Tour could come over and smash 99% of the Cat 1s that ride for U.S. continental teams. And to think you have guys yelling at each other in Cat 4 races- all over potentially ruining someone's chances for the big win. Maybe my buddy's right. Perhaps they should only close roads down for Pro races.

Decisions, Decisions

Well, I almost raced Winsted Woods today. No, really, I almost did. I went up to watch Charlie, Josh, and James on what had to be a slogfest of a course- given the crap weather we've had over the past week. I actually rode a few laps of the course last Saturday and it was uber (footnote to hilljunkie) muddy then, so I can only imagine how bad it was out in the wetter areas today. I got seriously high off race fumes just watching and made a decision to race about an hour and a half prior to the Cat 2 start. I left the race, went and got some cash and headed home to get my bike. I mentioned to Em that I was going up to race and she thought that I shouldn't go considering she saw what I looked like (BLOWN)after I got back from a ridiculous ride yesterday (76 mi./9K). And let me tell ya, NONE of the hills were taken lightly. This ride came on the heels of 1.5 hours of LT Wednesday, spin Thursday, and a short/moderate hilly ride on Friday. I also ended up doing intervals at the pool Friday night with the old men. So in short, I'm tired and yesterday's doosy was the proverbial nail in the coffin. I guess it's good to have a smart woman around afterall...

A couple of sidenotes to my visit up to Winsted Woods. It was cool to see Tim Johnson of Ouch-Maxxis racing in my backyard. And to think, he's rubbed elbows with the likes of Levi and Lance in the peloton this year. Pretty cool.

I was also able to meet blog superstar/cross slayer/data cruncher Colin Reuter. I guess he had pulled out of the race after having raced Sunapee yesterday. I say kudos for even driving the 2+hours out to Winsted after racing the day before. Colin, good meeting you, and I hope the knee feels better.

So I guess I'm taking the day off today. I can't stop stuffing my face. I actually had two breakfasts which was nice. I got that going for me. Anyway, I'll do a light hour or so SCR spin tomorrow, Tuesday night worlds, Wednesday another group ride with some (hopefully) saner folks and then off 'til Saturday when I tackle 6 Gaps.

Camping at the Battenkill 2009

Well, it was off to the annual Camping on the Battenkill trip early Friday morning with the Jassen clan. Trips with the Jassens go a little something like this: Get up, have breakfast, do activities until lunch, eat, go back out and do something else, meet at ~5 for "cocktail hour", eat your face off, and fall asleep in chair next to campfire. Well, at least that's how it usually happens for me- falling asleep by the fire, that is. We decided to bring both mtbs and road bikes so Em's car soon had the makings of belonging to an "elite" cycling team. (Side note: We overuse the word "elite".)

It's a real nice drive up to Arlington, VT. Rte. 7 heads due North through the Berkshires passing the lovely towns of Great Barrington, Stockbridge, and Williamstown along the way. I wish I could say the same for Pittsfield. It was raining intermittently on the way up and I began thinking of how much it would suck setting up the tent in the rain. Luckily, by the time we crossed the VT border, it remained just slightly overcast.

This was to be my 2nd trip up here. Last year I did a very boring loop out on 313 into NY and so I emailed hilljunkie to see if there was anything of note worth riding in the area. I had notions of climbing Mt. Equinox but he said that the road that the hillclimb is run on is privately owned. Oh well. He suggested I tackle Kelly Stand Rd., apparently the southernmost of the VT Gaps. You gain 2200' of vertical- almost all on dirt. Mmmm, sounded tasty. That would be on tap for Saturday morning.

In the meantime, Em and I threw up our tent quick, got changed, and decided to tool around on the dirt roads on our mtbs. By the time we left, the skies had cleared and temps were in the upper 60's. Nice. Off one dirt road, we decided to explore a fire road that was probably pushing 30% gradient at points. Of course, I just had to clean these sections and if I didn't, it was back down I went until I did. This went on at least a half dozen times and I was starting to think how stupid this was considering Kelly Stand Rd. was looming.


It's funny how the camera never does the grade justice.













I decided to chill out for a while until I had the bright idea to see if I could get my mtb up to 30 mph on flat pavement. I was pleasantly surprised I was able to do this but the legs were starting to fatigue big time. The hammerfest group ride the night before I'm sure didn't help my cause.















What's not to love about Vermont's covered bridges?

Just before I took this pic of Em, I ran into a guy on a road bike that lives just 2 houses past this bridge. I told Dave, a Battenkill United rider, that I was intending to ride over Kelly Stand the following day. He said that the road was rough and climbed forever. And to top it off he said that there was zero cell phone coverage so if something happens you are S.O.L. Now, I'm green to all this solo mountain climbing stuff so I was already a little nervous before running into Dave. Now don't get me wrong, I enjoy riding with people but there's something to taking on big rides solo. I sort of go into this adventure survival mode where all my senses become heightened. Toss in a 2000+ ft. dirt climb into the middle of nowhere with potential for run-ins with rednecks and/or wild animals and you can see what I was feeling. Thankfully, I don't think Em heard the "zero cell phone coverage" comment.

I awoke at about 8 am Saturday morning after a night of rain. Sadly, Betty got wet because I don't think bringing her into the tent with Em and I would have went over too well. I wiped her down, drilled a couple cups of coffee with breakfast, gave my living will to Em, and I was on the road by 9:30. The route I had planned was a counterclockwise loop over Kelly Stand to Rte. 30 through Stratton to Rte. 11 and back south via 7A. I shortened it to 52 miles so I wouldn't be gone all day and I'd have something left for an afternoon road ride with Em.












Starting up the ridge on Kansas.







Here she is.








































Despite numerous chances to turn back, I forged ahead.

Kelly Stand turns to dirt 100 feet in. I was worried the rain the night before would make for soft, sloggy conditions (not to mention potential snow melt) but to my surprise, the road was like pavement. If only the Mountain Road descent at the Tour of the Battenkill was this nice.













I'll chalk it up to good drainage into the river that runs along the side of the road:













The river had a soothing, meditative effect as the road snaked upward. Of course, this serenity was interrupted when a damn pheasant flew up from the side of the road and scared the shit out of me. The pitch of the climb wasn't bad at all as I comfortably spun my 34x22 at 90 rpms up what was a seemingly endless 6-8% gradient into the Green Mountain Forest. There were a couple of houses initially and then after a few miles, nothing- just the road, the river, and woods. I was passed by 2 cars, one from the opposite direction, and I thought to myself that that was encouraging as far as the road quality further up the mountain was concerned.

About 6 miles into the climb, as I crossed one of the last bridges over the river, I came across a bunch of trucks lining both sides of the road. There were a bunch of tents with a smoking campfire along the river and my immediate thought was that I've just entered a scene from Deliverance. Each vehicle I saw was replete with NRA and Semper Fi bumper stickers along with the requisite rear window gun rack. So as to not do my best Ned Beatty, I kept my eyes down on the road and kicked up the pace. I was pleasantly suprised to get a "Good Morning" from the camp as I rolled through. Maybe they didn't start hitting the bottle yet or something. That's the only problem with these backcountry rides- backcountry people that really don't like spandex-clad guys riding through their camps.

The road continued onward and upward and when I reached about 2500' in elevation, there was a marked decrease in road quality. Though there were a few soft sections, the road was still easily passable, even with 23mm tires. I'm guessing this was due to the last remnants of snow. The road kicks up above 10% in spots as you make your way up the last couple hundred feet to the summit:














Summit at just shy of 2800'. Not sure what the peak is in the distance. It was probably about 40 degrees up there.











Last remnants of snow coming over the top.

The descent was really a blur. I remember when I finally hit pavement on Stratton-Arlington Rd. It was in awesome shape so I bombed it at a decent clip. Man, descending mountains is a whole new experience.

















This went on for miles. I went through Stratton ski area and was surprised to see how much snow was still up there:










I suppose it being another 1200' higher has something to do with it.

I found Mountain Road to be a bitch. There were a couple of sections above 10%, with one near 15. I had never been through Stratton before and I was surprised to see how developed it was as far as ski resorts go. I missed the turn for Lower Taylor Hill Rd. that would have put me out a couple miles further north on Rte. 30.







The wind became what would be a continual nuisance while riding through Stratton.




I'm heading southeast at this point with 20-25 mph winds in my face.

Taking the left onto Rte. 30 I had a couple 4-500' kickers to deal with, not to mention Mr. Wind, which was now blowing OUT of the southeast.











Further photographic evidence of headwind.



Taking the left onto Rte. 11, now heading WSW, you have a nearly 6 mile, 1300' descent to Manchester. This would have been fun if, you guessed it, the wind wasn't in my grill yet again. WTF? I remember I was in my 50x11 pedaling down Rte. 11 and I couldn't brake 40 mph. Ah, I'm sure the wind will be at my back when I head south on 7A.













Nope.

I concluded that there must have been some sort of clockwise-turning vortex in southern VT Saturday morning. How else can headwinds in virtually EVERY direction be explained? Anyway, I made it back to the campground in one piece with 52 miles/5700' of climbing for 3:24 ride time. I was a little blown from all the climbing and 30+ miles of headwinds, but I managed to pull myself together (with the help of a couple of Cokes) and headed out with Em for what would arguably be 30 of the most scenic miles I've ever ridden. Great weekend!

Objectum Sexual

Alright, so maybe I'm not on a par with that Erika Eiffel, but I took Betty out last night on her maiden voyage. Conditions were less than ideal; It was pissing rain all day and the roads were wet, but I had this yearning desire deep in my loins to ride her. (That didn't sound too good.) Really, I was tired of slogging around on my cross bike for the last 1000 miles and it was time to feel what 13.99 lbs. felt like under me. Yeah, that was the weigh in sans computer. It's almost embarrassing to admit. Had I the dinero for some superlight carbon tubulars, she'd probably be in the low 13's.

In lieu of the weather, I stuck close to home so if I were to get caught in a deluge, I'd be 10 minutes away from home at most. On my first circuit of a nearby lake, I was immediately taken by the frame's responsiveness- so responsive in fact, that the bike doesn't feel like it's under 14 lbs. You step on it and it goes. There is very little (if any) energy lost. Watts in=>mph. Not to sound like I work for Cervelo PR, but the R3 SL is like the perfect marriage between man and machine. (Gee, maybe I do suffer from OS.) You see, for one man it might be blasting a golf ball 300 yards with his $1000 driver. For another, it might be the perfect lines in his lawn afforded by his $5000 zero-radius lawn mower. For me, it's ripping up 5% risers at 20+mph on my 14 lb. Cervelo.

I believe there is something to this man and machine thing. I can remember when I was a kid and I had to shovel snow with a standard issue flat shovel, no less. The thing weighed 15 lbs. as it was made out of cast iron. Our driveway was as big as three football fields. (Hey, I'm prone to hyperbole from time to time.) Honestly, though, a six inch snowstorm would take 3 hours of shoveling. And my father, being as anal as he is with things, "wanted to see black" when he got home from work. Great, so much for building snow forts. So, as you can imagine, the time to completion increased exponentially with snowfall amounts. I can remember shoveling out storms that were up to my shoulders (you know, the storms were big in those days) while seemingly every other resident of our street had a snowblower. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to run across the street and throw my cast iron 15 lb. shovel into the impeller of my neighbor so that they would know my pain. But I forged on, the years passed, and "character" was built. Fast forward to winter break of freshman year of college. A good snowstorm hits and to my complete surprise, there, sitting in the garage, is a brand new 8 hp Ariens snowblower. Hmmm, I guess because his little serf was away at college, it was time for Dad to "join the revolution". I mean, afterall it was 1991. Anyway, Dad's at work one snowy January day, so I'll be a good son and snowblow the driveway and sidewalks. It literally took 1/6th of the time it used to take shoveling and I probably expended 1/20th of the energy. Dare I say, it was almost fun. Well, Dad gets home to freshly snowblowed driveway and for some reason he's not as pleased as I thought he'd be. He seems almost deflated- almost as if he was a kid that was looking forward to going to the circus only to have the big top burn to the ground the day before. Ok, maybe not that extreme, but as an 18 year old I didn't get it. I do now. Sorry, Dad, for spoiling your fun.

So Betty is a pretty sick machine. The bike just feels solid. Being a lifelong (3 years) Shimano-ite, I have to say I like the Sram Red group as well. It has no small chain ring trim but I don't think that will be a problem as I never used it with my Dura Ace. I get a little FD rub in anything bigger than 34x15 but if I need another gear, I'll just chuck it in my "big" 50t ring. The 34x28 was perfect as a minimum up my little 20+% tester hill. For a bike as light as it is, it never felt squirrelly. How they were able to design a frame that responsive yet able to hold lines is beyond me. (They're called engineers, Alex.) It goes to exactly where you point it- and in a hurry. I wonder how much of that is the HED Bastognes ($600 steal new, ebay), I highly recommend if you're looking for clinchers. Not to get all Star Warsy, but when I get Betty going over 22 mph, she starts to emit this sort of TIE fighter-ish howl kinda like what you hear here:

I'll have to rename her Darth but I guess that would then make me an objectum homosexual. Is that possible? The ride was going well until I had to ride back home all bmx-style knees to chest and get the allen key to tighten seatpost that had dropped almost 2 inches. Rookie mistake not to go out with it. Did a hot lap of the lake to see just how fast Betty/Darth is. Ended up PRing by 15 seconds despite wet roads and me not feeling so hot. Nice. So yeah, for lack of a better way of saying it, Betty was literally ridden hard and put away wet. I don't think "Darth" is going to work.

ToB 2009

Phew, what a day. I have to say it was harder than I expected it to be. Perhaps in retrospect I should have been a little more leary of the difficulty of the Tour of the Battenkill than I was. Had I been, I'm sure I wouldn't have slept as well as I did. I got up at 5:15 and had my coffee sans breakfast. What were you thinking, you ask? I had loads of carbs the two previous nights so I knew glycogen stores were topped off. I made my FRS for the ride up (because frankly I too am tired of being tired) and by 6:30 I was out the door to pick up my mates.

Sorry, girl, not this time.



The Rocket, Manimal, and myself have been "training" for this for some time. We'd put in our share of sub-20 degree rides just so we wouldn't get embarrassed in the heralded 30+ category. I can't tell you how many "What are you guys thinking?" comments we received when the word got out we were racing the 30+. I knew in my heart of hearts that despite our measly Cat 4 status, tattered jerseys and shorts, cross bikes, mountain bike shoes (sorry, James), and yes, hairy white legs, that we could hang with at least the middle of the pack. We must have been a sorry lot to the hard core roadies in the bunch but we managed to hang with the lead group through 80K. (more on that later)



Going into this race, I felt like I had a solid base- well over 1700 miles and a ton of climbing. The one thing that was lacking was the high end; I had done exactly one interval session and yes, it was the Tuesday before the race with Rocket. We did two circuits of a nearby lake that is about the flattest 8 miles you'll find anywhere in Litchfield County. On our 2nd circuit, trading 30 second pulls, we managed a paltry 24.2 mph average. Hey, there were like 25 mph headwinds around the entire lake... yeeeeeaah. What can I say? We're not exactly mashers. I think if you stacked the two of us head to toe we'd be a carbon shim under 11 feet. So yeah, the flat stuff isn't our forte but I wonder how much of that is due to the fact that we never train it. (Note: I will be doing some scooter motorpacing in the near future) Perhaps I'll have to risk life, limb, and bike next Spring and do a Crit or 2 to work on my flat power.



This was going to be my 2nd career "road" race. Ever. I'm not shitting you. Hey, I told you I was a rookie. So basically what you're telling me is that you did no high end stuff, this is your 2nd race ever, and you were riding your 18 lb. clunker cross bike? In the 30+, to boot? Well, yeah, I guess I'm either a complete fool or I like challenges. Maybe both. But hey, at least I didn't wear mtb shoes. Sorry, James. The story on that is James (Manimal), who is on my "team" and was leading the peloton for a while (and chasing down breaks, no less) was wearing his beat up mtb shoes and someone in the peloton said, "Hey, that guy's got mtb shoes on!" The jury is still out on whether that statement was made with scorn or adulation. I'm assuming it was made with the latter as he was in the lead group through 70K.



So the all-Dave Wiens team, calf hairs wisping in the wind and all, rolls up to the line. The pace for the first half hour or so was comfortable though I thought pretty quick. I think we covered over 20K. The roads really are a blur but I do remember Juniper Swamp being the first culling of the herd. Being a peloton neophyte, I was of course out of position toward the back at the start of this climb. I had to weave through the riders getting spit out like watermelon seeds and so by the time I crested the climb, the leaders had a gap of nearly 200 meters. Luckily, I had a lifesaver in the form of a dude with a yellow kit that aptly said "Asset Recovery" across his shorts. He drilled it to the back of the lead group pushing low 30's and I gladly sat in for the ride. This wouldn't be the first time Mr. Asset Recovery saved my ass. We hooked back on just before the turn for Rich Rd. and I promptly made my way up toward the middle of the group as to not let that happen again. It seems that this road racing thing requires not only strength and fitness but pack savviness as well. I burnt a match catching back onto the group just because I was out of position and did not know the course.



I sat in for the next 10 miles until selector #2- Joe Bean Road. If my memory serves me correctly this was a multi-tiered paved climb. It was an honest climb but to tell you the truth I just stayed aerobic and spun my 34x24. I was again toward the rear of the group on this one (when am I going to learn?) and I had to weave around some riders to the top. I crested this one in fair position with about a dozen or so riders and we latched back onto the main group which was now down to maybe 50. I did burn another match or two here hooking back on. It was on the dirt on Ferguson where I was surprised to see the Rocket who also must have been out of position on the Joe Bean climb. He latched on to our group and we made it back to the lead group.



The next 25-30K were uneventful- just meandering through the bucolic upstate NY farmland. I would look up at times and see James leading the peloton with his mtb shoes. I was thinking to myself, wow, he must be feeling good. That unfortunately would change for the worse later. It was good to see him up there. After the race, he told me that he was hoping to get his picture in a magazine. Had this race been about 20K shorter, he probably would have top 10'd.



Later, it seemed that the top 20 guys kept screwing with the peloton. We'd be cruising at like 25 mph and then there'd be intermittent bouts of 30+ mph which began to take its toll on my legs. Had I trained more specifically, this wouldn't have been quite as painful as it was. These bursts began to sap my climbing legs big time. Cycleworx was still well represented with the three of us still in the lead group of about 40 riders with less than 25K to go. I believe it was around Mountain Rd. that I lost contact with the lead group. James was in a spot of bother at this point and I tried hammering to get him back to the group- to no avail. He would later say he was having trouble seeing and would not recover his eyesight until halfway home. That's what I would call an ultra-Bonk. Yikes!


I bombed the sketchy descent at 40+ (Vittoria Open Pave EVO CG 24mm- perfect tire choice by the way) and could see the Rocket dangling about 200 meters up the road. He too, had been shelled at this point. I did what I could with Meeting House and I could see the lead group about 200 meters ahead of Rocket. I TT'd for a couple miles when we hit pavement and who do I catch? None other than Mr. "Asset Recovery" himself. I settled in behind him for about 20 seconds, came around for an honest pull, and then we held up for a group of 4. The six of us worked great together for the next 10K or so, holding a steady 27 mph. I was well on my way to Shitsville when we took the turn for Stage Rd. I kept a steady pace throughout the climb and didn't completely redline (I don't think my cramping hamstrings would allow me to anyway). I climbed with 2 other guys from our group of 6 and we ended up passing 3 or 4 guys in our category who were completely blown. I didn't want to blast the climb solo (not like I really could anyway) and end up in no man's land all the way to the finish. One of the guys I crested Stage with (a GHCC rider) took off and bridged to Rocket. I probably should have went with him. Instead I held back a hair and descended with a CVC Subaru rider. He was a ridiculously strong flat rider, though by this point his tree trunk legs weren't behaving for him. We traded pulls the last 5K as it just started to rain. It must have been kind of funny to the casual observer with my cadence at about 110 and his at 60. We were caught at the 1K to go by the 2 leaders of the Cat 3 race. They had a nice head of steam. CVC guy faded a bit down the stretch and as we made the turn for home I could see the Rocket and the GHCC rider sprinting for the line. It was an awesome feeling on the finishing straight with the race clock over the road. It almost had the feel of finishing a Tour stage as I crossed the line a few bike lengths ahead of CVC. I believe my official finish time was 2:49:43, good for 33rd place and 16 seconds down on the Rocket who finished 32nd. (GHCC guy pipped him at the line I guess) If I remember correctly, we were a little over 5 minutes down to the leaders. My Garmin said 61.36 miles, 2:47:31 ride time, with a surprising 4883 ft. of climbing. (I didn't start the Garmin until after we exited the neutral zone)



Here is the profile:

As you can see it was a bit punchy. The worst climb for me was probably Juniper Swamp because I wasn't yet opened up. But I will say, the compact with the 27 in the back was nice. I just chucked that baby in 4 Low and spun up it, keeping my weight over the rear tire for traction. Standing up was about half as efficient. Tire selection was spot on. Those Vittoria Open Pave EVO CG 24mm tires were perfect. Though you lose some in rolling resistance and weight, I wouldn't have wanted anything else when I bombed that dirt descent (Mountain Rd.?) at nearly 45 mph.

There are only 5 things I would change for next year. 1. Double EPO dosage (Just kidding), 2. Do more high end training (or in my case more than one), 3. Ride Black Betty (riding a bike 4# lighter AND more efficient would have been nice), 4. Be more aware of my position in the peloton (I burnt a few matches really for being in the wrong place at the wrong time), and 5. Shave my goddamn legs (that would have saved me another .5#). All in all, it was a great race experience and undoubtedly I will be back next year despite the apparent inability of organizers to get the results up in a timely fashion. Oh well, it's all good.