Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
Nationals
Oregon is a cool place, I especially liked Portland, deserts suck tho.
The first 2 races (road race and time trial) went pretty terrible for me. The only thing I've been able to figure is that it was the heat that was killing me. I guess part of Oregon, Bend included, has been having a crazy heat wave because the temperatures were right around 100 degrees while we were there. It's also basically a desert too so the air is super dry. Anyhow, it was hot and there have been very few times that I have ever felt that bad on my bike. I felt like I had the speed but after the first couple efforts, it was taking ages to recover like I normally do so I was basically worthless for the rest of the race. In the road race, however, Oscar had a standout ride, attacking solo and then joining a big group that separated from the pack on the climb. He road to 17th place and upon looking at the results, I realized that everyone that beat him that day, with the exception of only a couple, has or still does ride for the national team....crazy. The road race was such a hard race that that's a really good result.
I didn't quite leave Oregon completely depressed, however. The last race of the week was the crit in downtown Bend. An early break of 3 went up the road and despite the sporadic efforts of me, Oscar, and about a dozen New Englanders (from at least 3 different teams) who all appeared to be working for Keough, we didn't catch them. I was a little disappointed but followed moves for the remainder of the race until, before I knew it, it was 1 lap to go and I found myself third wheel sprinting for 4th. Keough did end up coming flying past me right before the line, but he was the only one and I passed the two in front to secure the final spot on the podium: 5th. I was pretty happy with that. So I got a medal and some podium photos out of the week after all.
The first 2 races (road race and time trial) went pretty terrible for me. The only thing I've been able to figure is that it was the heat that was killing me. I guess part of Oregon, Bend included, has been having a crazy heat wave because the temperatures were right around 100 degrees while we were there. It's also basically a desert too so the air is super dry. Anyhow, it was hot and there have been very few times that I have ever felt that bad on my bike. I felt like I had the speed but after the first couple efforts, it was taking ages to recover like I normally do so I was basically worthless for the rest of the race. In the road race, however, Oscar had a standout ride, attacking solo and then joining a big group that separated from the pack on the climb. He road to 17th place and upon looking at the results, I realized that everyone that beat him that day, with the exception of only a couple, has or still does ride for the national team....crazy. The road race was such a hard race that that's a really good result.
I didn't quite leave Oregon completely depressed, however. The last race of the week was the crit in downtown Bend. An early break of 3 went up the road and despite the sporadic efforts of me, Oscar, and about a dozen New Englanders (from at least 3 different teams) who all appeared to be working for Keough, we didn't catch them. I was a little disappointed but followed moves for the remainder of the race until, before I knew it, it was 1 lap to go and I found myself third wheel sprinting for 4th. Keough did end up coming flying past me right before the line, but he was the only one and I passed the two in front to secure the final spot on the podium: 5th. I was pretty happy with that. So I got a medal and some podium photos out of the week after all.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Pre-nats
The week before nationals was, without a doubt, the most complete recovery week I have ever had. I rode the hour or two per day as was instructed but besides that, my daily activities included Tour watching, general web surfing, and watching the complete first season of Heroes. In addition, every night after dinner (and sometimes before dinner as well) we would sit down for family movie time and watch one of our many borrowed dvd's that we scored at the Kutztown public library (great alternative to the movie store). The point is that besides the occasional trip to the kitchen, I was basically laying down for a week straight....my legs were gonna be so fresh for nationals.
Highlights of the week leading up to our trip to Oregon include the day that Thomas and Oscar went out on a gathering mission and came home with at least 5 or 6 lbs of wild rasberries. We'd seen them lining the backroads for a week prior but hadn't discovered their identity until Thomas stopped and asked some guy that seemed to be picking the berries. Anyway, all Thomas's wildest dreams came true (rasberries are his favorite food) and we ate rasberries with every meal for 3 days straight.
Also, while out training on Thursday, Thomas and I got caught in a terrential downpoar. The rain was coming down hard, and Oscar even called wondering if he should come pick us up somewhere but we brushed off the offer thinking we were gonna be totally badass and pound it out through the rain storm. Good call......not! Fifteen minutes later I found myself on the ground sliding across a metal open grate bridge and then onto the concrete. Whathahappent was, as we were riding in a straight line across this bridge, even going slow I might add, I either jerked my biked a little or maybe just peddled. Either way, the metal was sooooooo slick and something I did made my bike start sliding sideways, and before I knew it I was sliding hands and head first across the ground.
Being wet, the concrete portion of the ground was awful kind to me and didn't give me any of the ordinary road rash. The metal grate bridge on the other hand, did what all graters do best and sliced into my palm. The area of infliction was the squishy, meaty part right under my thumb, and split open, I got a first hand view of what a thumb muscle looks like.....no different than a piece of raw chicken breast (except bloodier). Looking down to see my own skin parted and a little sliver of chicken sticking out between the skin flaps really messed with my head. Almost immediately I got nauseous and sorta dizzy. As I stumbled over to a stone wall to sit down, Thomas called Oscar back to take him up on his offer. I was doing all I could to keep from throwing up for the next half hour as I sat in the rain. I calmed down soon enough however, and by the time we were on the way to the hospital I had actually discovered that by flexing my thumb I could suck that little extruding piece of meat back up into my skin and then release to make it hang back out again. Thomas thought that was pretty cool but Oscar wouldn't look and I think I almost made him pass out while driving just by telling him about it.
No one was in the emergency room so it was a quick n' easy visit (except for the 2 or 3 shots the lady put right into my hand, that hurt!!!!!) and I only got 4 stitches. After the nurse lady was done I admired her work at closing it up so well and she even said, "Yeah, I just had to shove that little piece of meat back up in there." I couldn't have said it better myself.
Highlights of the week leading up to our trip to Oregon include the day that Thomas and Oscar went out on a gathering mission and came home with at least 5 or 6 lbs of wild rasberries. We'd seen them lining the backroads for a week prior but hadn't discovered their identity until Thomas stopped and asked some guy that seemed to be picking the berries. Anyway, all Thomas's wildest dreams came true (rasberries are his favorite food) and we ate rasberries with every meal for 3 days straight.
Also, while out training on Thursday, Thomas and I got caught in a terrential downpoar. The rain was coming down hard, and Oscar even called wondering if he should come pick us up somewhere but we brushed off the offer thinking we were gonna be totally badass and pound it out through the rain storm. Good call......not! Fifteen minutes later I found myself on the ground sliding across a metal open grate bridge and then onto the concrete. Whathahappent was, as we were riding in a straight line across this bridge, even going slow I might add, I either jerked my biked a little or maybe just peddled. Either way, the metal was sooooooo slick and something I did made my bike start sliding sideways, and before I knew it I was sliding hands and head first across the ground.
Being wet, the concrete portion of the ground was awful kind to me and didn't give me any of the ordinary road rash. The metal grate bridge on the other hand, did what all graters do best and sliced into my palm. The area of infliction was the squishy, meaty part right under my thumb, and split open, I got a first hand view of what a thumb muscle looks like.....no different than a piece of raw chicken breast (except bloodier). Looking down to see my own skin parted and a little sliver of chicken sticking out between the skin flaps really messed with my head. Almost immediately I got nauseous and sorta dizzy. As I stumbled over to a stone wall to sit down, Thomas called Oscar back to take him up on his offer. I was doing all I could to keep from throwing up for the next half hour as I sat in the rain. I calmed down soon enough however, and by the time we were on the way to the hospital I had actually discovered that by flexing my thumb I could suck that little extruding piece of meat back up into my skin and then release to make it hang back out again. Thomas thought that was pretty cool but Oscar wouldn't look and I think I almost made him pass out while driving just by telling him about it.
No one was in the emergency room so it was a quick n' easy visit (except for the 2 or 3 shots the lady put right into my hand, that hurt!!!!!) and I only got 4 stitches. After the nurse lady was done I admired her work at closing it up so well and she even said, "Yeah, I just had to shove that little piece of meat back up in there." I couldn't have said it better myself.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Raccoon Rock, aka Hamburg Hole, aka Schuylkill River Cliff Jump, aka IQ Test
Thanks to Oscar's research and discovery of one of the best sites on the internet, swimmingholes.org, we were able to obtain knowledge that probably only a small number of locals even know about. Upon finding out that there was what seemed to be a pretty nice swimming spot in Hamburg, PA on the Schuykill River only like 15 or 20 miles away, we set out bathing suits in hand (well some of us anyway...we've been twice and Oscar somehow forgot his suit both times) to check it out. It did not disappoint.
It's hard to beat a good swimming hole in the dead of summer. I mean, I really don't think there's anything that can match the good clean fun that a swimming hole can provide to people of all ages during a blazing summer day. Of course not everyone keeps it good ol' clean fun. Every uncommercialized swimming hole has its share of people that bring beer and weed to the spot without fail, and this one was no different. It's sorta puzzling to me why impairment always seems to be a necessity, and all I can think of is that the druggies must simple be braver people by nature and must be searching for that extra bit of thrill. I guess free falling for 40 or 50 ft into a murky current isn't enough for them, but for me, completely sober I was scared shitless and had absolutely no trust in my own two feet as I edged out onto this peninsula of a rock; I can't imagine trying to keep my balance up there shwasted. But then again I would never back flip off this rock either. I guess its just one of those things that people, who are way more daring than I, do. Some do back flips off the 45 ft cliff, some do front flips, some do one-and-a-halfs, some do gainers, some dive, and some jump off it so blown that they can't see straight.
Anyway, we got there, jumped off lower rocks and swam around for a bit, staring up at the looming cliff as some poor 14 year old was being pressured into jumping by two of the more drunk 40 somethings. The rock looked intimidating but I knew I wanted to jump off it, but more than that, I knew that I didn't want to be fried alive under pressure like the 14 year old that eventually walked away without jumping after at least half an hour in the spotlight. Lucky for me, the old guys soon left along with much of the crowd, and the top of the rock was now ours for the taking. The first time I walked out on the little rock peninsula at the top was also the first time I had ever felt afraid of heights. Yeah it was just water below and I'd witnessed dozens of people jump and live to tell the tale, but I started feeling woozy at the sight of it. It sort of freaked me out that I was even getting freaked out by this. Usually when I jump off stuff its just my common sense that I have to argue with to convince myself to do it, but this time, my it seemed my body was giving me real physical signs that this was a bad idea. I still wanted to do it.
After convincing Thomas to do it if I did, my peer pressure then shifted to Oscar as I tried to get myself amped up more than anything. The O was not only resistant to my pressure (saying NO immediately), but he went further to say that "Neither you or Thomas is going to do it and we're just going to stand up here all day thinking about it, so we might as well leave now." Well jeez, I was sorta looking for someone to try to motivate me to jump, but Oscar was obviously not the one in this situation, he must be really scared of this jump. So Thomas and I did exactly as Oscar had predicted, danced around on top of the cliff squealing like little girls for at least a good half hour to 45 min. All of a sudden, fed up with our childish ways and wanting to leave, Oscar charges by me. I met his eyes but they were locked on something distant, his body was faintly quivering, and he was walking so fast that it looked like running would probably be more efficient. There he went, right off the edge of the rock, not even looking down until his foot had left solid land. Oscar hadn't wanted to do it at all so I was bewildered at the sight.
Oscar's survival from the jump paved the way for Thomas to do it soon after, and then me (even longer after). I guess I knew I would feel this way, but after the first jump and with the excitement over, I saw how simple and harmless it was and felt completely silly for making such a big deal out of it. But still, it was the highest thing I've ever jumped off of.
(I know it looks small in the picture, but I swear it felt really high)
The Velodrome
Since my return to Kutztown after my 2 week stay at home, we've gotten the opportunity to race the track twice on Tuesday nights. I don't exactly have any killer results to boast about, but we've held our own, every once in a while getting a top 5 in some of the races. Its about what I would expect, not because everyone here is in better shape than us, they are just in better track shape. After so much road racing, I can't expect my track legs to be as good as those of the guys that are here racing and training on the velodrome every week. The first week back, we got to do a madison which was pretty dang scary for me because the track was really crowded, unlike the races at Dick Lane which split up the moment Jeff says "GO." Oscar and I got 5th in this madison, here's a link with a few cool photos of us in action: http://www.cyclingcaptured.com/gallery/8822745_jYA9t#586780364_HJMM2
Tonight we're going to the track to do our first Friday night racing here. It's supposed to be the "pro race" by invite only, so that should be fast.
Tonight we're going to the track to do our first Friday night racing here. It's supposed to be the "pro race" by invite only, so that should be fast.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
TOV; Stage 3
The fourth and final stage of the weekend was a crit held in Youngstown, OH, and as we pulled in to town, much of what Jim Behrins had described about the town unfolded before our eyes. It had definitely seen better days; I guess it was a booming area when the steel industry was thriving, but from the looks of it, most of the factories, warehouses, and other random buildings had since been abandoned. Granted it was a Sunday, but the city streets still seemed eerily empty to me.
With the box of powerbar gels having seemingly disappeared from the van (???), before the race got underway I managed to swipe a couple free Mountain Dews from the hospitality tent to fill my bottles with sugar. The fuel situation taken care of, the only thing left to do before the race got under way was go drop the kids off at the pool…. something I would NEVER DARE start a race without doing. I’m talkin, this is more important than any warm up or whatever other pre-race customs you can think of. So, to take care of business I followed the trail of riders into this supa fancy shmancy wine bar (I think it was called Rosetta Stone), the owner of which I’m sure was cursing himself for even getting out of bed that morning, much less being open and inviting to the cyclists. “The bathroom is all the way in the back? Oh, ok thanks. Back on the other side of that pristine, polished, hardwood dance floor you got back there? Alright, don’t mind if I do…” Yeah, no joke, I’m estimating that at least half the cyclists at this race used that bathroom, tromping straight across that wooden dance floor in their click-clackin cleats. Momma woulda been horrified at the site, and because her scolding me for walking across a wood floor in metal cleats was all I could think of, I couldn’t bring myself to look down to inspect the damage, as I tried to ever-so-gently make my way across the dance floor.
When it was my turn in the john, just as every other cyclist who had sat on that same throne that afternoon had done, I blew it up in there, flushed and made as quick a get away as possible. That brings up an entirely different problem that the Rosetta Stone management was also going to need to address…
As for the race itself, it didn’t quite unfold in picture perfect fashion, but it worked out nonetheless. With Jafer sporting the yellow jersey and a sizeable lead on all but one other competitor, all that ideally needed to be done was to lead Jafer out for the sprint, so he could win or at least place high enough to maintain his lead. Maybe a quarter of the way into the race, I looked up and found myself staring at Paul Martin’s butt (which is about at face level because the dude is so big) seconds before he launched an attack. Well that’s a no brainer, I’m already on his wheel and no one is getting away without us, so I follow him. We get a gap, I refuse to pull through as is necessary when trying to defend a jersey back in the field, but before I know it, Oscar has covered another attack and bridged up with 2 other Panther guys and another GC contender. I say hi to the O and all that’s left to do at that point is sit on for the ride, so that’s what we did; neither of us taking a single pull. I knew we were with a strong little bunch, but our gap hovered at only around 15 to 20 sec for at least half an hour, so I was sure we were gonna eventually get brought back. Well all of a sudden, in the last 10 laps our gap grew immensely. We weren’t getting caught at that point, and a Panther guy attacked with 2 laps to go. Oscar wasted no time in hitting the front of our little group for the first time all day to make sure this got brought back, and he did it with perfection. Oscar smashed the lone attacker’s dreams for victory just 2 or 3 turns from the finish, and peeled off to hang on for 4th. I then went into the last corner 3rd wheel, and sprinted to victory up the left side after nearly getting pinched into the barriers as 2nd-place took desperate measures to try to keep from getting passed.
After Martin’s complaint (he got pinched out and forced to take 3rd) about 2nd place taking us into the barriers, that guy got relegated to 3rd, giving Martin 2nd instead. It was a hard call for the officials, but I didn’t see much wrong with what had happened. Of course my opinion might have been different had I not won, but still, to me it seems like that sort of thing is just a part of bike racing. People get pinched, squeezed, pushed, and bumped in and out of position every day in races. Anywhoo, with the win and Martin in 3rd, I thought I had the weekend all sewn up with enough points to take the overall win, but with the officials’ decision to move Paul Martin into 2nd on the stage, gave him enough points to be tied with me in the overall GC. There were a few nervous minutes when I thought they would decide the tie by whoever did better in the time trial (which was him) but luckily it came down to which one of us had won more stages (which was me), with the TT as the tie breaker only if number of stage wins was a tie as well.
So, to wrap up this essay, I won the overall title, Jafer took third overall, and Oscar got fifth. A good weekend and decent paycheck for the boys.
With the box of powerbar gels having seemingly disappeared from the van (???), before the race got underway I managed to swipe a couple free Mountain Dews from the hospitality tent to fill my bottles with sugar. The fuel situation taken care of, the only thing left to do before the race got under way was go drop the kids off at the pool…. something I would NEVER DARE start a race without doing. I’m talkin, this is more important than any warm up or whatever other pre-race customs you can think of. So, to take care of business I followed the trail of riders into this supa fancy shmancy wine bar (I think it was called Rosetta Stone), the owner of which I’m sure was cursing himself for even getting out of bed that morning, much less being open and inviting to the cyclists. “The bathroom is all the way in the back? Oh, ok thanks. Back on the other side of that pristine, polished, hardwood dance floor you got back there? Alright, don’t mind if I do…” Yeah, no joke, I’m estimating that at least half the cyclists at this race used that bathroom, tromping straight across that wooden dance floor in their click-clackin cleats. Momma woulda been horrified at the site, and because her scolding me for walking across a wood floor in metal cleats was all I could think of, I couldn’t bring myself to look down to inspect the damage, as I tried to ever-so-gently make my way across the dance floor.
When it was my turn in the john, just as every other cyclist who had sat on that same throne that afternoon had done, I blew it up in there, flushed and made as quick a get away as possible. That brings up an entirely different problem that the Rosetta Stone management was also going to need to address…
As for the race itself, it didn’t quite unfold in picture perfect fashion, but it worked out nonetheless. With Jafer sporting the yellow jersey and a sizeable lead on all but one other competitor, all that ideally needed to be done was to lead Jafer out for the sprint, so he could win or at least place high enough to maintain his lead. Maybe a quarter of the way into the race, I looked up and found myself staring at Paul Martin’s butt (which is about at face level because the dude is so big) seconds before he launched an attack. Well that’s a no brainer, I’m already on his wheel and no one is getting away without us, so I follow him. We get a gap, I refuse to pull through as is necessary when trying to defend a jersey back in the field, but before I know it, Oscar has covered another attack and bridged up with 2 other Panther guys and another GC contender. I say hi to the O and all that’s left to do at that point is sit on for the ride, so that’s what we did; neither of us taking a single pull. I knew we were with a strong little bunch, but our gap hovered at only around 15 to 20 sec for at least half an hour, so I was sure we were gonna eventually get brought back. Well all of a sudden, in the last 10 laps our gap grew immensely. We weren’t getting caught at that point, and a Panther guy attacked with 2 laps to go. Oscar wasted no time in hitting the front of our little group for the first time all day to make sure this got brought back, and he did it with perfection. Oscar smashed the lone attacker’s dreams for victory just 2 or 3 turns from the finish, and peeled off to hang on for 4th. I then went into the last corner 3rd wheel, and sprinted to victory up the left side after nearly getting pinched into the barriers as 2nd-place took desperate measures to try to keep from getting passed.
After Martin’s complaint (he got pinched out and forced to take 3rd) about 2nd place taking us into the barriers, that guy got relegated to 3rd, giving Martin 2nd instead. It was a hard call for the officials, but I didn’t see much wrong with what had happened. Of course my opinion might have been different had I not won, but still, to me it seems like that sort of thing is just a part of bike racing. People get pinched, squeezed, pushed, and bumped in and out of position every day in races. Anywhoo, with the win and Martin in 3rd, I thought I had the weekend all sewn up with enough points to take the overall win, but with the officials’ decision to move Paul Martin into 2nd on the stage, gave him enough points to be tied with me in the overall GC. There were a few nervous minutes when I thought they would decide the tie by whoever did better in the time trial (which was him) but luckily it came down to which one of us had won more stages (which was me), with the TT as the tie breaker only if number of stage wins was a tie as well.
So, to wrap up this essay, I won the overall title, Jafer took third overall, and Oscar got fifth. A good weekend and decent paycheck for the boys.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
TOV; Stage 2
Dont got much time, but Jafer had a great ride today. We did a road race that had a couple big hills and lots of rollers and he got in a break first lap that stayed away. He gobbled up both KOM sprints which earned him extra points for the overall, and he won the stage by attacking the break with like I Km or less to go. He is in the lead overall now and all we've got left is a crit tomorrow to defend his title. It should be good fun. Oscar and I are also sitting 4th and 5th overall which is good but top 3 is where most of the money is at so we're gonna go chasing it tomorrow.....gotta get that moooooooooooooollllaaaaahaahhhhhhhhhhhh
Friday, July 10, 2009
Tour of the Valley; Day One
I had a rather disappointing time trial this morning: Oscar got 5th, Jafer got 7th, and I got 8th, and the others were not too far behind. It wasn't all that bad, but for the competition, we knew we could do better. I don't know what's up with me and TT's, I think I just don't get along with my bike.
The crit went waaay better, we killed it, in fact. After following and making attacks for much of the race, everything happened in the last 6 or 7 laps when I followed Panther's Paul Martin off the front, just the 2 of us. While I spent a few laps working with him trying to figure out how I was gonna beat such a big dude, Oscar made the absolute smartest move of the race. I looked across this traffic island to the road on the other side where the course sorta doubled back on itself and saw Oscar off the front with just one other guy, and not a Panther guy either. I was set from this point on, I only soft peddled when I took pulls and then sat on the guy i was with for the whole last lap and a half. If Oscar caught us that'd have been to my and his advantage, and if not, no big deal cause the only way we were gonna stay away was if Paul Martin pulled more than me. We ended up not getting caught, and I had gas left at the end so I won the sprint between the two of us. Oscar beat his companion for 3rd, and after a lead out from Jafer and Mikey, Thomas and Anthony went 1, 2 in the field sprint. We basically won on all possible fronts and it was a good feeling.
The crit went waaay better, we killed it, in fact. After following and making attacks for much of the race, everything happened in the last 6 or 7 laps when I followed Panther's Paul Martin off the front, just the 2 of us. While I spent a few laps working with him trying to figure out how I was gonna beat such a big dude, Oscar made the absolute smartest move of the race. I looked across this traffic island to the road on the other side where the course sorta doubled back on itself and saw Oscar off the front with just one other guy, and not a Panther guy either. I was set from this point on, I only soft peddled when I took pulls and then sat on the guy i was with for the whole last lap and a half. If Oscar caught us that'd have been to my and his advantage, and if not, no big deal cause the only way we were gonna stay away was if Paul Martin pulled more than me. We ended up not getting caught, and I had gas left at the end so I won the sprint between the two of us. Oscar beat his companion for 3rd, and after a lead out from Jafer and Mikey, Thomas and Anthony went 1, 2 in the field sprint. We basically won on all possible fronts and it was a good feeling.
Really quick recap with few details....
So a lot has happened that I havent quite kept up with since the last post, but there's no time for that now. Basically, we raced Nature Valley which was hard every day. I didnt really do as good as I wanted there, placing only 4th in best young rider instead of top 3 which woulda earned us some money. Then after a days rest (that began while we were still at the casino from the night before), we went to the Tour of Ohio which was an amateur only race and had a pretty poor turn out (45 or so) compared to previous years when there were over 100 racers. We were pretty worn out by the end but ended up with some good results, winning a 3 of 6 stages, and I wound up with the overall win and the sprint jersey.
Taking a break from racing, I headed home for 2 weeks during which time I went to the beach, swam in lakes and rivers, rode some, and raced the track. It was a really good change of scenery and activity.... not that the jjoe's crew is getting old or anything :)
Now its nice to get back to Kutztown and redirect my focus to training and recover.... I need sleep!
Taking a break from racing, I headed home for 2 weeks during which time I went to the beach, swam in lakes and rivers, rode some, and raced the track. It was a really good change of scenery and activity.... not that the jjoe's crew is getting old or anything :)
Now its nice to get back to Kutztown and redirect my focus to training and recover.... I need sleep!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
I just made a twitter this morning, so feel free to follow me on that. We just got done with the first day of the Nature Vally Grand Prix, and it lasts til Sunday so I'll probably just wait til then to do a little recap/race report. I will be keeping up with the days events on twitter cause that's much quicker. Its www.twitter.com/joeyrosskopf
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Tour of High Bridge.....again
Because the 100 degree heat and painfully steep hill that we experienced last year at this race wasn't enough to scare us away, we returned to New Jersey to do the Tour of High Bridge just as we had done one year ago. It wasn't quite so hot this time but the hill was just as hellish as I remember. The 3 mile circuit features a 2 step hill, the first of which has got to be over 20% and 2 or 3 hundred meters long. After that, the road winds down a driveway width alley that is so torn up and patched that a dirt road would be much smoother. I felt great poundin it out over the torn up road, but I think that kind of hill ain't really my thang.
I got in a break again after 2 or 3 laps and eventually, with 2 to go I couldn't follow an attack on the steep section. Two guys got away from us and the rest of us didn't have much left in the tank to chase. When it became clear that trying to work with the rest of the guys in the break wasn't gaining us any ground on the lead 2, I attacked the little group, taking one tag-along who had been saying he was way too dead to ever pull through....if you can follow an attack, you can rotate through a dang paceline..... After a bit of yelling I got him to pull through once or twice but we never caught up. I beat him in the sprint for third place.
I got in a break again after 2 or 3 laps and eventually, with 2 to go I couldn't follow an attack on the steep section. Two guys got away from us and the rest of us didn't have much left in the tank to chase. When it became clear that trying to work with the rest of the guys in the break wasn't gaining us any ground on the lead 2, I attacked the little group, taking one tag-along who had been saying he was way too dead to ever pull through....if you can follow an attack, you can rotate through a dang paceline..... After a bit of yelling I got him to pull through once or twice but we never caught up. I beat him in the sprint for third place.
Monday, June 8, 2009
I'm a wiener! (Race Ave)
Opting out of the time trial that Oscar and I were supposed to do Saturday morning, the four of us instead went to Lancaster to do a crit called Race Avenue. For a local race, I was actually impressed with some of the guys that showed up. Not wasting much time, I found myself following a couple wheels and off the front after maybe 15 min of racing. It was sorta exciting when I realized that I was off the front with Chad Gerlach, among 3 others (5 of us total). Four of us worked pretty well together til Gerlack attacked with 2 to go. We looked at each other until I jumped to bridge the gap. We regrouped with about half a lap to go and then I won the sprint, waiting a while before I came around (it was a really long sprint and I think everyone went a bit early). It felt really good to get a win under my belt before heading to Nature Valley this week where I'm in for some killer suffering.
After a good lead out effort by Oscar and Anthony, Thomas took third in the field sprint for 8th in the race. With a Wawa stop on the way home, it was a great day.
After a good lead out effort by Oscar and Anthony, Thomas took third in the field sprint for 8th in the race. With a Wawa stop on the way home, it was a great day.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Back at "home"
I feel as if I never left this little town. I'm back in Kutztown, Pennsylvania in the house on Whiteoak St just as I was last summer. This is where we'll be based out of for the remainder of the summer.
The house had nothing when we showed up but since then we furnished it real nice with a couch from an alley nearby, and silverwear, a pot, and bowls from dollar general. We still dont have a table but we're working on that. No internet either so I'm at a coffee shop right now and this lady is trying to set up for a drum circle so i gotta get out the way!
The house had nothing when we showed up but since then we furnished it real nice with a couch from an alley nearby, and silverwear, a pot, and bowls from dollar general. We still dont have a table but we're working on that. No internet either so I'm at a coffee shop right now and this lady is trying to set up for a drum circle so i gotta get out the way!
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Tulsa was tough
Tulsa came and went with no real surprises. The races had big money, lots of teams, and were hard. No one really did better than expected, or worse, for that matter. I placed 25th, 18th, and 29th in the three crits, in that order. I was pretty disappointed with how I finished and wanted to do a little better, but I guess that's part of bike racing; you get beat by people that are faster than you. For whatever reason, I just felt sketchy and not confident in the first two days and then in the third race when I was actually feeling pretty good each time we crested the steep hill, I just lost my legs (and my position went with it) in the last couple laps.
The third race (Sunday) does deserve a little talking about, however, because it was quite a spectacle. It was a river-front course that looped a block inland into a neighborhood every lap. Turning off of the riverfront immediately took riders up a short, steep hill that lead to another right turn. The steep grade of the hill continued through the corner and onto the backside of the course for another block or so. It was a real leg buster, but what made the hill bearable was the incredible fans lining the street on that hill. It was an absolute scorcher of a day (like 92 degrees or something) and despite the fact that the race started at 3 pm (a little early to be drinking, in my opinion) there was a full fledged party going on on this hill on the backside of the course. Someone had a band in their front yard, many were stripped down to just bathing suits in an effort to stay cool, there was beer everywhere, and the majority of the crowd was standing in the street cheering their brains out, only leaving a gap that might have been just wide enough for a small car to squeeze through very cautiously. Every fan was also armed with water. Whether it was plastic bottle feeds for us to dump over our heads, garden hoses, or squirt guns, it seemed like everyone had some form of water. Once I got over the initial shock of being nailed in the face by one stream of water or another every lap, I started to look forward to the cooling sensation it provided. Basically, it felt like we were reenacting a very short segment of a grand tour climb over and over again in the midst of this criterium. The fact that once and a while I would glance over and see Floyd Landis riding next to me even seemed furthered the reality of my imaginary Tour experience.
The third race (Sunday) does deserve a little talking about, however, because it was quite a spectacle. It was a river-front course that looped a block inland into a neighborhood every lap. Turning off of the riverfront immediately took riders up a short, steep hill that lead to another right turn. The steep grade of the hill continued through the corner and onto the backside of the course for another block or so. It was a real leg buster, but what made the hill bearable was the incredible fans lining the street on that hill. It was an absolute scorcher of a day (like 92 degrees or something) and despite the fact that the race started at 3 pm (a little early to be drinking, in my opinion) there was a full fledged party going on on this hill on the backside of the course. Someone had a band in their front yard, many were stripped down to just bathing suits in an effort to stay cool, there was beer everywhere, and the majority of the crowd was standing in the street cheering their brains out, only leaving a gap that might have been just wide enough for a small car to squeeze through very cautiously. Every fan was also armed with water. Whether it was plastic bottle feeds for us to dump over our heads, garden hoses, or squirt guns, it seemed like everyone had some form of water. Once I got over the initial shock of being nailed in the face by one stream of water or another every lap, I started to look forward to the cooling sensation it provided. Basically, it felt like we were reenacting a very short segment of a grand tour climb over and over again in the midst of this criterium. The fact that once and a while I would glance over and see Floyd Landis riding next to me even seemed furthered the reality of my imaginary Tour experience.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
next race: Tulsa Tough
Tomorrow Thomas and I fly to Tulsa, Oklahoma to meet up with the rest of the crew who has just spent at least 12 hours in the car/van driving our team vehicles to the race. We do 3 crits there (Fri, Sat, Sun) and then drive half way across the country to Kutztown, PA to set up camp for the rest of the summer. But of course we won't even be in PA long before we take off for more racing.
Sweet road, sour weather
What a looooooooong coooooooold ride that was. Yesterday I headed out for a 5.5 hour trek through the Rockies. Thomas is on a rest week this week so I was by myself, just me and my Zune. I had mapped out a route already, and the main attraction of the ride was this 20 mile dirt road stretch that a local rider had recommended. Sounds sweet huh? It was; every bit as awesome as I had hoped for. Turning off a highway, Colorado River Road was the longest dirt road I had ever been on. It was hard-packed and, with the exception of a few ups and downs in and out of the canyon, it paralleled the Colorado River and a set of train tracks for 35 miles, 20 of which was dirt. On the dirt section I probably passed only half a dozen houses/trailers total.....I was really in the middle of nowhere so I occupied myself by singing along to Lucero at the top of my lungs without worry of other people hearing. And luckily, I had my headphones turned up loud enough so I didn't actually have to listen to myself either; I could just pretend that my voice sounded identical to that of Ben Nichols.
That was all fine and dandy but after about 1.5 hours it started raining. And the drizzle didn't stop. The dirt road remained hard, but at one point I looked down and could hardly distinguish between where my knee warmers, shins, socks, and shoes started because they were all the same color: mud color. I had even anticipated the rain and dressed warmly: knee warmers, long sleeve jersey, and long finger gloves, but I guess I didn't really know how to anticipate 4 straight hours in the rain, I don't know if I've ever done that before. I'm pretty sure the temp was still in the 50's but by hour 4 my hands and feet were thoroughly numb and I was soaked to the bone. I'm fine riding with numb feet...don't really need them for anything... but the hands became problematic. My right hand was better off (I think from constantly moving it to shift) but my left was absolutely useless. I had to use my right had to shift on the left side a couple times, and then with about an hour to go I pretty much stopped shifting all together. With the exception of the occasional shift on the right side when I could muster up the coordination for my icy fingers to push in the right spot, I pretty much mashed way too big of a gear all the way home. Trying to get all my clothes off with no coordinated movements in my hands may have been the hardest part.
That was all fine and dandy but after about 1.5 hours it started raining. And the drizzle didn't stop. The dirt road remained hard, but at one point I looked down and could hardly distinguish between where my knee warmers, shins, socks, and shoes started because they were all the same color: mud color. I had even anticipated the rain and dressed warmly: knee warmers, long sleeve jersey, and long finger gloves, but I guess I didn't really know how to anticipate 4 straight hours in the rain, I don't know if I've ever done that before. I'm pretty sure the temp was still in the 50's but by hour 4 my hands and feet were thoroughly numb and I was soaked to the bone. I'm fine riding with numb feet...don't really need them for anything... but the hands became problematic. My right hand was better off (I think from constantly moving it to shift) but my left was absolutely useless. I had to use my right had to shift on the left side a couple times, and then with about an hour to go I pretty much stopped shifting all together. With the exception of the occasional shift on the right side when I could muster up the coordination for my icy fingers to push in the right spot, I pretty much mashed way too big of a gear all the way home. Trying to get all my clothes off with no coordinated movements in my hands may have been the hardest part.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Blue Racing Balls
Thomas and I departed for Boulder around 11 am this morning with a huge pancake breakfast still digesting in our stomachs. We stopped at the grocery store down the hill for water, cash, and coffee, and then we were on our way, race ready. We were headed to just outside Boulder to do this "Koppenberg" Circuit Race that looked like a pretty cool little five mile circuit; half was dirt road, and it included this steep little climb every lap named after the famed Koppenberg. Thomas followed his directions to a tee, but when we got to the Target/Costco shopping center where we were supposed to park there was not a cyclist in sight....just a bunch or overweight, shopping-kart-toting folks, totally oblivious to my pre-race, nervous, bubble-stomach that was starting to set in like it does when you have barely an hour until race time and you still don't know where the heck you are. We were sure we were in the right spot, right on the edge of the course, but this couldn't be right, where was everyone? It was a really weird feeling because there were signs for the bike race, but we saw no one. We proceeded to drive a lap of the course, hoping crest one of the hills and say "Ah, there it is!" as registration and a cyclist-crawling parking lot came into view......uuhhhhh, yeah, that never happened. As I made a couple phone calls to Dan and Oscar to try to get someone to look on the event website, Thomas somehow negotiated the little, low-riding Jetta up the actual "Koppenberg" part of the road which was incredibly washed out and had these huge trenches running the length of the hill.
Oscar gave us the word: the race was cancelled........ Why exactly it was cancelled, I don't know, I guess it was the rain cloud looming nearby. Why we didn't know this, I don't know either; I guess it was a last minute cancellation because Thomas and I were both on the website yesterday afternoon/night and there was no mention of it. Oooooh well. So that was that, all our predictions and worries of which of the fast guys from last weekend would be back to torture us up that hill every lap were for nothing. As was the huge pancake breakfast and numerous cups of coffee that I had consumed, hoping I would have good legs for the race. It was really disappointing.
We suited up in the parking lot and took off for a ride anyway, but after expecting to race, motivation was low and we soon turned around realizing that if we got back in time to give Lilly back her car so she could drive herself to work (the night shift) one of us wouldn't have to wake up at 6:30 am to go pick her up tomorrow morning. All we did was a little over an hour ride, with a couple sprints for fun, before we packed it up and started the two hour drive back to Edwards. It had started to rain on us, but it was more of a drizzle, and since when does a race get cancelled due to rain???
I really don't even know what to think about this day, it was a pretty big waste of time. I think I'm going to bump all my training for this next week up one day so I can start doing real rides tomorrow. I've had enough of this recovery stuff (this whole past week), it makes me feel so unproductive.
Oscar gave us the word: the race was cancelled........ Why exactly it was cancelled, I don't know, I guess it was the rain cloud looming nearby. Why we didn't know this, I don't know either; I guess it was a last minute cancellation because Thomas and I were both on the website yesterday afternoon/night and there was no mention of it. Oooooh well. So that was that, all our predictions and worries of which of the fast guys from last weekend would be back to torture us up that hill every lap were for nothing. As was the huge pancake breakfast and numerous cups of coffee that I had consumed, hoping I would have good legs for the race. It was really disappointing.
We suited up in the parking lot and took off for a ride anyway, but after expecting to race, motivation was low and we soon turned around realizing that if we got back in time to give Lilly back her car so she could drive herself to work (the night shift) one of us wouldn't have to wake up at 6:30 am to go pick her up tomorrow morning. All we did was a little over an hour ride, with a couple sprints for fun, before we packed it up and started the two hour drive back to Edwards. It had started to rain on us, but it was more of a drizzle, and since when does a race get cancelled due to rain???
I really don't even know what to think about this day, it was a pretty big waste of time. I think I'm going to bump all my training for this next week up one day so I can start doing real rides tomorrow. I've had enough of this recovery stuff (this whole past week), it makes me feel so unproductive.
Friday, May 22, 2009
The KILLER
No not Di Luca, this person is MUCH more dangerous: THOMAS BROWN. You should have seen the raw display of killer instinct that terrorized my eyes today while out for a little spin on the bike path. The path that weaves through low-hanging trees along the edge of the sparkling Eagle River would have been quite a pleasant sight on any other sunny day: kids frolicking on their skateboards nearby, kayakers taking advantage of the warm day and high waters, and the cutest little prairie dog type ground squirrels popping in and out of their holes to check out the shiny bikes and blur of orange as we rolled by. Well this beautiful scene was soon turned upside, into one of sheer horror (especially for one particularly unlucky ground squirrel). Thomas "The Killer" Brown, who was not getting enough satisfaction from making me suffer on our (supposedly "easy") recovery ride, was on the hunt for another innocent life. As soon as he spotted the cutest, most preciously innocent looking ground squirrel we had seen all day just minding its own business a little too close to the edge of the path for its own good, Thomas struck with incredible ferocity. Based on the impeccable timing with which the attack was executed (he scored double-wheel impact), I could tell The Killer was no newbie to the field of assassination. Within that split second that it took for each wheel to inflict its spine-crushing blow to the poor little fury guy, I stood (or rode, rather) absolutely helpless to intervene and save a life. By the time I actually started to comprehend what Thomas had done, all that was left of the attack was the critter, sprawled on its back in full seizure mode, flopping up and down on the pavement like a fish.....
Like I said, it was a horrific sight. I wanted to go back to see if I could help it, but couldn't stand the sight, and figured that with absolutely no coordinated movement, the squirrel would be dead momentarily. So, after watching it flop for about thirty seconds from a distance, we rolled on our way. Poor little guy.
PS: im just playin, it ran out fast and thomas hit it on accident.
Also, thomas wasnt actually dropping me on our recovery ride.
A sample of our riding adventures
These first two are on a ride up to the top of Vail pass. The first is the bike path that parallels the interstate all the way over the mountain. Near the top we were riding with these 5 ft snow banks on either side of us, it made for an awesome sight. The only not-so-awesome thing was that being right next to the interstate, a layer of sand and dirt had been washed over the path due to all the melting snow on the road, so the sandy parts were sorta sketchy to descend.
The last three pics are dirt road climbs we've taken over the past week or so, those are hard! Especially the last one which was definitly not a road at all but a hiking trail; that's what one of our dirt roads turned into and we continued to follow it, dodging and walking through many rock gardens along the way. It did eventually end up back on a road, and was a shortcut (distance-wise.....not so much time or speed-wise).
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Had a good stay with Jordan and (Aunt) Molly
With a packed work schedule all summer, my girlfriend Jordan snagged a plan ticket to Denver as soon as she found out she had 4 straight days off from work. She has an aunt, Molly, living there with whom she stayed. I was lucky enough to have that crit in Boulder the day after she arrived, so after the race, Thomas, his bro Nico, and bro's wife Lily (Thomas and I have been staying with them in Edwards, CO for a couple weeks) returned home, leaving me with Jordan and Molly. I stayed at Molly's house in Denver from Sunday til Wednesday. With my fork broken from the crash and a scheduled recovery week anyway, I had Monday and Tuesday off from riding which gave Jordan and I plenty of time to "bop" (as she would say) around some little, cool parts of town with stores and coffee shops. Molly also got the Universal Sports channel which was a huge plus cause I got to wake up every morning and watch the Giro with breakfast :)
It was a good relaxing time, and fun to check out a new city. The only thing that could have been better was the fact that since I had just crashed, every time Jordan tried to snuggle up to me....or touch me at all, for that matter, I was flinching because of my newly acquired road rash....probably pretty funny to watch tho.
I also felt pretty bad for Molly's dog, his name is also "Joey." I guess you can see how that would get confusing. Everytime Jordan would raise her voice at me and say my name for doing something silly, the dog's ears would perk up and I was afraid he was getting the wrong impression that he was being scolded for something. Poor, confused doggy. I didn't have such a hard time getting mixed up with the name calling because, thankfully, the girls usually addressed the dog with a bit of a different tone in thier voice than they did me. The only time that became a problem was when Jordan would address me with a baby-ish tone in her voice from across the room; then I would just assume that she was talking to the dog so I would ignore her. On accident of course :)
It was a good relaxing time, and fun to check out a new city. The only thing that could have been better was the fact that since I had just crashed, every time Jordan tried to snuggle up to me....or touch me at all, for that matter, I was flinching because of my newly acquired road rash....probably pretty funny to watch tho.
I also felt pretty bad for Molly's dog, his name is also "Joey." I guess you can see how that would get confusing. Everytime Jordan would raise her voice at me and say my name for doing something silly, the dog's ears would perk up and I was afraid he was getting the wrong impression that he was being scolded for something. Poor, confused doggy. I didn't have such a hard time getting mixed up with the name calling because, thankfully, the girls usually addressed the dog with a bit of a different tone in thier voice than they did me. The only time that became a problem was when Jordan would address me with a baby-ish tone in her voice from across the room; then I would just assume that she was talking to the dog so I would ignore her. On accident of course :)
Monday, May 18, 2009
That's sorta frustrating...
Thomas and I raced in the North Boulder Park crit on Sunday. It was actually pretty cool to see the incredible group of riders the race announcer called up prior to the start. It's not like this was a big money crit or anything, just a little local race, but the amount of pros that live locally blows away the depth of talent in any other local race, and many bigger ones too. Needless to say, the field was strung out most of the time and I didn't really feel too up to making many big moves. I felt okay, not great, but about what I expected for just training through the weekend.
Right towards the end I followed a good wheel and got off the front with 2 other guys with 5 or 6 laps remaining. We made it to the bell lap still with a good enough gap, the TT1 guy attacked, I jumped with him but trailed a bit through the first corner. Into the second corner, I had closed it down to just a couple bike lengths, but apparently took the turn too hot. The corner was over a driveway sorta thing over a sidewalk onto a path/driveway on the edge of a park, so it was pretty bumpy. It was really surprising cause I had flown through the corner many times without problems but this time I just hit the bumps leaned over a little too far and totally slid out onto my side along the ground, with the barriers stopping me. I got scraped up real nice on my one leg and a bit on my elbows, but nothing that'll be too hard to deal with. The thing that really sucks is that it was the last lap and there was no way we were getting caught, so thats a decent result and some gas money that went down the drain quick. That and the fact that I broke my fork and scraped up both shifters real good......siiiiiiiiiiick.
Right towards the end I followed a good wheel and got off the front with 2 other guys with 5 or 6 laps remaining. We made it to the bell lap still with a good enough gap, the TT1 guy attacked, I jumped with him but trailed a bit through the first corner. Into the second corner, I had closed it down to just a couple bike lengths, but apparently took the turn too hot. The corner was over a driveway sorta thing over a sidewalk onto a path/driveway on the edge of a park, so it was pretty bumpy. It was really surprising cause I had flown through the corner many times without problems but this time I just hit the bumps leaned over a little too far and totally slid out onto my side along the ground, with the barriers stopping me. I got scraped up real nice on my one leg and a bit on my elbows, but nothing that'll be too hard to deal with. The thing that really sucks is that it was the last lap and there was no way we were getting caught, so thats a decent result and some gas money that went down the drain quick. That and the fact that I broke my fork and scraped up both shifters real good......siiiiiiiiiiick.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
I think I'll start this thang back up
So the summer has come back around and I've rediscovered one of the reasons I started this blog last summer. I have nothing to do! It's great, I should rephrase that: I have nothing that I HAVE to do (except ride I guess). In the grand scheme of a day, riding really doesn't take up that much time, so the rest is spent however I please (I ride the couch and eat food for hours). I figure that in between Giro stages and stupid videos online, I can squeeze in a bit of time to keep my blog updated. I will do my best from here on out..... but its bedtime now, and I actually have something time consuming to do tomorrow: a crit in Boulder!
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