Hittin' the wall

No, not "the wall" metaphorically. During Sunday's race I literally hit "a wall."

After the first three stages in Redlands I was sitting 35th overall, totally excited about attempting Sunday's Sunset loop circuit race. This day of racing had been built up in my mind as what would most likely be the hardest race all spring, and there I was, 10 laps into the 12 lap sucker, still hanging in the front group. Then "whoa!" bam, my race was over. The field in front of me drifted right around a bend while ascending the climb, and in an instant of fatigue driven indecision, I was in the gutter, scraping my shoulder on a stone wall, and then hitting the ground. I wasn't hurt at all, but by the time I checked my bike, put the chain back on, and remounted, the group was out of sight. I road out the last lap and a half with another unlucky soul, who's work was done for the day, to finish around 6 or 7 min down, eliminating any chance I had to move up in the overall.

The worst part of it all is that if I had made a better choice and just feathered my breaks for half a second, the whole thing would have been avoided and I would have still had a legitimate opportunity to test my legs against the big guns once things really got fast.

Overall, I come out of Redlands actually quite pleased with my fitness. I was there in the mix in the other two finishes prior to Sunday's stage but my mind still feels a bit rusty when I'm trying to think through the haze of pain and decide exactly what to do at the end of a race. While I was towards the front, I was still never able to make a significant contribution to Mark or anyone else on the team to help one of us seal the deal. I was just there....a little too far back to be a player in the races and definitely too far back to get a real result. Moral of the California trip: "Get yo head screwed on right, it's racin' season!"

On Deck...

The Redlands Bicycle Classic starts today and goes through Sunday.

Short but tough uphill time trial today..... hmmm, I start in less than 2 hours. Ima get going.

Owie (San Dimas Circuit)

The ninth time up that hill was balls out hard, and just as I finished sprinting over the “cobbles” (aka fake brick textured road) that lap, I could feel them sneaking up on me. Cramps. Nothing debilitating yet, but the tinge was there, right in the end of my quads, slightly above my knees.

Three laps to go…. I finished off my last gel and even bummed a couple gummies from Mark, in an effort to postpone full-on cramps to make it through the remaining hour of racing, but I think by then I had already started to feel the damage of dehydration.

Holding on by the skin of my teeth, I maintained contact with the front group up the steep section for 2 more laps. My cramps progressively worsened until standing up to pedal was basically no longer an option. On the last lap I stood up for a few seconds just to pop over the top of the feed zone hill, and after about 3 pedal strokes just as I was pressing down with my right foot, my quad completely locked up. I’m talking, as contracted as my muscle could possibly be, hyper extending my knee even. That’s never happened to me in a race before, but it reminded me of playing around with an e-stim machine in the athletic training lab….only times a thousand. I actually didn’t even know that could happen to my body. So after some serious concentration, I managed to force my peg leg back into a more natural bent position, but right as I did so, I shifted weight to my left leg only to have the same painful contraction happen to that quad as well.

Needless to say, I didn’t make it over the final climb intact with the lead group, but with a downhill and then only a mile or so of flat, I finished up just about 15 seconds in arrears.

Apart from crashing, those cramps were by far the worst physical pain cycling has ever caused me.

Back at it....

The bike racing season is cranking up once again. Fresh off team camp last week, I'm now out in San Dimas, CA for my first real race of the season. This race started with a hill climb time trial today and ends on Sunday. After a transfer to a host house in Redlands on Sunday night, we'll hang for a couple days before starting another stage race (4 days long) in Redlands on Thursday. I didn't do great in the time trial, but it's still quite a relief to have that tt, and the pain that accompanies it, out of the way. Now for the circuit race tomorrow...

My team for 2010

http://www.cyclingnews.com/news/mountain-khakis-brings-in-jittery-joes-sponsorship

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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!

Twitter

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

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'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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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).

Pictures from Denver

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 :)

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.

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!

Cali

The team and I are now in California for U23 Nationals. We've been here since Saturday, raced the time trial yesterday, and race the criterium tonight. I got 36th in the TT and Oscar got 23rd, hopefully we'll be able to do a bit better tonight. It was nice arriving at our beach house days before the first race because that gave us plenty of time to pre-ride the courses and even spend a little time in the waves (though we have had to be super careful not to wear ourselves out).

(I haven't felt very motivated to write recently, so that's why I haven't been. I figure there's no reason to sit down and make myself write when I don't feel like it because if I'm not motivated, the writing will probably be boring anyway. Hopefully I'll come up with some good stories to tell soon...)

Das alotta drivin'

Already packed up from the night before we woke up bright and early (4:30) Tuesday morning to head back to Pennsylvania. We thought leaving by 5 would at least get us through Chicago before the morning rush hour hit, but we had no such luck. Before we knew it we were rolling slow in traffic at like 6 am! The hold up wasn't too bad however, and as we made our way across the states we probably spent close to $30 on tolls on our 14 hour trek. Arriving in Kutztown that evening, it was nice to be back in that familiar house that we had called home for the first half of the summer.

The next morning, while Oscar and Thomas slept in longer than I had ever seen them, I ran out and got coffee and prepared pancakes for the 3 of us. Soon after they woke up we got straight to work planning and packing the Volvo. It ended up that we had to ship 2 boxes of random stuff home (in addition to the TT bikes we sent to CA) so that we would have enough room in the car for everything, but it was still and incredibly tight squeeze. If it weren't for Thomas working his master packing skills like he always does, there's no way everything would have fit. The car was absolutely stuffed to the brim (remember that we brought 2 cars up here in the first place, and the only difference now was that Jafer had already headed home with his bags).

Thursday morning, again we woke up bright and early (5:30 this time) to start on the home stretch back to Atlanta. This leg of the trip lasted around 13 hours including all the bathroom and gas stops we made. Weighed down as it was, the car was not getting near as good of gas mileage as it normally did....but i was kinda ok with that because it meant we got to stop more which I always enjoyed. Having half of the back seat and sitting with all our pillows and sheets, Thomas made a nest and passed out for most of the ride after putting in his first couple hours at the wheel. We arrived home at a pretty decent time (around 7:30 pm) which gave me plenty of time to go out and catch up with friends. We've driven a total of 27 hours in the last 3 days....it was good to be home.

Holy Hill Road Race (Monday) & more...

This was our last day of racing, and, honestly, we probably could have done without it. Oscar and I started the race which was shortened to 68 miles instead of 90 after the start got delayed. Oscar dropped out about half way through after putting in a couple good attacks, and I didn't have much of an impressive finish either. There were a couple big rollers on the course and I just never really felt good going over them.... or anywhere else on the course for that matter. It actually kind of felt like my brakes were rubbing the whole race (they weren't actually, but that's how sluggish I felt). At the finish I didn't really have room to sprint anywhere either because it just got so swarmed and crowded. I came across the line around 35th or 40th.

A good thing that happened Monday was that my cousin, Logan Biggs, who is going to school in Milwaukee came to watch the race. He drove his motorcycle out to the course and then followed us home to hang out for a while. We ended up going over to his girlfriend's loft to play some video games, eat, and just hang out for the night. It was really good to get to see him.

Tuesday morning we woke up at 4:30 am and started our 13 hour drive back to Kutztown. Now today, Wednesday, we have spent much of the day packing up and planning how we're going to fit everything in the car for tomorrow's drive home. We packed up 2 TT bikes in a box, 5 wheels in another box, and some other random stuff in another box to ship home because we won't have room in the car to carry everything (we had 2 cars to bring it all up here). We plan to leave early tomorrow morning and arrive in Atlanta in the evening. It's going to be good to get home for a while, but I can't get too settled in because we leave to go to California for nationals on August 2nd.

Evanston (Sunday)

For Sunday's criterium we headed back down to the Chicago area to the suburb of Evanston, IL. There was a huge showing for Sunday's race in both fans and riders. I'd say this was one of the biggest fields we had raced against in Superweek, and that, in combination with a couple tight turns and a nearly a dozen poorly situated man-hole covers made for a pretty sketchy race. The race was stopped twice because of bad crashes (situations where the rider(s) does not get up right away and then nobody wants him to move until the ambulance gets there...so he just lays in the street); we were first stopped for 15 or 20 min with 16 laps to go which was actually fine with me because I had just gotten caught from going off the front trying (unsuccessfully) to get a prime, so it allowed me time to recover. When that crash happened, with 17 to go, Oscar was on my wheel and I was on the wheel of the guy who wrecked.....basically, I think he took the corner too wide and might have been blinded by the bright setting sun and ended up running into the outside curb/barrier which sent his bike flying up and back out onto the road right in front of me! I kind of ducked and swerved to avoid the back half of his bike which was right at eye level in front of me, and Oscar and I both escaped alive.

The second stoppage of the race occurred after a wreck with 5 or 6 laps to go. After a long 20 min intermission we were back on the road and they had bumped the lap counter up to 10 laps to go so they would have time to finish handing out primes. I was feeling really good in the closing laps and was able to fight for and maintain position close to the front. I passed a few people in the sprint but not as many as I would have liked to or could have had it been more wide open. The next day however, when we looked at results, I was not listed..... I think it may have been because I finished on the opposite side of the road than the camera was on so I may have been blocked by other riders. By then, most of the checks had already been handed out and there wasn't much I could do about the wrong results.

Thomas was feeling pretty worn out from all the racing and didn't finish Evanston, and Oscar was in good form towards the end but just never really made it up to the front to contest the sprint or attack.

Lake Michigan (Saturday)

We all took another rest day today which turned out to be a good choice cause it was a nasty, wet day anyway. Instead of racing we took the opportunity to go check out Lake Michigan which is pretty close by. Down by the lake it was super foggy and made for a really cool, peaceful setting as we skipped rocks, played on the shore, and climbed out on some barrier boulders. I brought my towel cause my mind was set on swimming but as soon as I touched the water I decided otherwise. It was as cold as an ice bath, and almost the second I submerged my foot it went numb....I'll pass on the swimming.

While we were out we also stopped at this awesome bakery and picked up two homemade loaves of bread which we've been devouring ever since.

I've also come to realize how lucky we've been with host housing. We've stayed at 3 host houses in a row and every time we've been treated to our own living area in the basement of the host's house. In Chicago, the Joslyns could not have been a single bit more helpful or enjoyable to be around then they were; and this time we even have our own mini fridge and big flat screen T.V. in the basement! Everyone is so nice to host and put up with cyclists like us.

Not quite the ideal race situation....

With a big pancake/waffle lunch sitting heavy in our stomachs, we piled into the car a little after 3 pm and headed to the town of Ripon, WI for Friday's race. We knew we had 80-something miles ahead of us to get to the race and had planned to leave at 2:30, but the lunch I had prepared ran a little longer than expected...but no biggie, we'd still arrive like an hour and a half before our 6 pm start time (we thought). So around 3:45, while we were on the road, Oscar picks up this piece of paper in the back seat, looks at it for a minute, looks up at us and goes, "You know the race starts at 4:45 right?" In the front seat, all Thomas and I could say was "uuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh." We looked at our directions and an atlas and figured we still had around 50 miles to go....and about an hour before the race starts, "Well, we're almost half way there, lets just try to make it." Instead of driving 60 mph and stopping to get coffee as I had requested, we started pushing the speed limit a bit and the only stop we made was when we pulled over for 30 seconds because Oscar swore he was about to pee all over the back seat.

We got to Ripon at exactly 4:45 expecting hear the starters gun unload as soon as we pulled up, but luckily the women's race was still in progress. I don't think I've ever been happier to see a race running late. Oscar had decided to take the day off, so he ran over to registration to check in and pick up wrist bands for Thomas and me as the two of us whipped our clothes on, pumped tires, and mixed drinks and made it to the start line in about 15 min. The course had hills on 3 of the 4 straightaways so it was terribly hard to start the race with no warm up. Actually, it was worse than terrible; I immediately started doing Oscars famously funny "pain cave dance," but this time it was no joke. The first 45 min was the most I've ever struggled in the early going of a race. First of all, I started at the back of the group which meant there was a huge acceleration out of each corner and up the hills. My stomach cramped almost immediately simply because we'd just finished stuffing our faces with waffles just 2 hours prior to the start, and in addition, my legs felt pretty stiff and not "opened up" from taking that rest day the day before. Totally out of breath and suffering, I started taking the corners really sloppily, and that only added to the pain inflicted by having to sprint out of the corners even harder. Other riders that I had been so much better than in previous stages were coming flying by me on the hills and I was doing all I could just to hold on to the back, sitting almost last wheel. Only 2 laps into the race I was ready to slam on the brakes, drop out, and head home. A thousand things started swarming through my head "I'll probably feel better tomorrow, I don't have to finish today," "why am I doing this to myself?" "what's wrong with me!?!" I knew I couldn't finish the race, so now it was just a question of how long I wanted to torture myself.

It usually takes me while into a race to warm up, but I never thought I'd pull out of this one. Then, between like 70 and 65 laps to go (it was a 100 lap race) I just started feeling better and better with every lap and my attitude changed. It came as somewhat of a surprise and relief to myself when I finally got the feeling that I was gonna be able to make it. Instead of dancing with pain, I started dancing with ease up the hills each lap. Then, with 20 laps to go, it started raining..... 3of 4 corners on the course were downhill and fast. The race had already blown apart with only like 30 riders remaining, but as soon as it started raining, riders started dropping like flies; not "getting dropped" but sliding out and falling almost every lap. Most of these guys got back in however, and by the finish it seemed like about half the field now had bloody, skinned up hips. I'm pleased to say that I went yet another day retaining all my skin.

While making sure to take the corners carefully was a good thing in the closing, rainy laps of the race, it hurt me a little bit on the very last lap (by then the roads were nearly dry again). I was feeling decent and if I hadn't been a little too cautious around a couple of the last turns, I would have been able to jump past a few people on the hills, but I didn't. I pretty much just held my position on the last lap and was able to keep anyone from passing me in the sprint. I'd say I ended up placing around 15th in the bunch.

Shorewood = rest day for me

Thursday morning Oscar, Thomas and I loaded up the Volvo and headed North to Milwaukee where the second week of Super "Week" was to take place. Jafer departed the night before to spend a couple days in downtown Chicago with his cousin and then a couple more on a farm with his grandparents and uncles. We won't see him again until we get back to Atlanta (we're gonna be back sometime in the last few days of July), so he got to skip out on the 25 hours of driving we have to get from here to Kutztown and then back to Atlanta......lucky!

After settling in a bit at our new host house, about 2 hours from Chicago, we headed down the road to Shorewood for the kiddies to race (I was taking the day off). I almost got swept up and convinced to race by just being around all the race hub bub, but I thought better of it and decided to stick to the plan and take a rest day. Instead, I took off for a nice easy spin along the coast of Lake Michigan, mouth agape at how incredibly huge some of the lake front mansions were. I'm not sure how people can afford such huge houses on such pricey land, but it must nice to live on the water like that.

After riding I returned to the course just as the boys' race was starting and, after occupying a Starbucks bathroom for too long to fill up bottles and a jug, I headed around to the backside of the course to feed Oscar and Thomas. There was a huge field, and they were absolutely flying and super strung out each time they came through. After being helped to the front by the OC with about 3 laps to go, Thomas was sitting in a really good spot with 1 lap to go but said some really sketchy stuff happened on the last lap. Both boys rolled across the line outside of the top 30. With Kelly Benefits on the front chasing a break down for the entire race, it looked like a pretty unrelentingly fast race.

Two days of Bensenville (Tuesday & Wednesday)

Tuesday and Wednesday the crits were held on the same course, and both days the field was whittled down to a mere 40 riders by the finish. Breaks had been successful the past couple days, so both Tuesday we went in with the objective of getting in one ourselves. Tuesday saw a group of around 8 go off the front really early on (like 5 or 10 laps into the 80 lap race), and none of us were prepared or in a position where we could follow it so unfortunately they escaped without us and lapped the field. Later that day, starting with about 20 laps to go, Oscar and I moved up to hang around the front, looking for another move to go. A group of 4 or 5 got away without us, but as soon as the next person jumped, attempting to bridge, I went with him. The two of us gained a little time on the group we were chasing (which never got out of sight), but after only a couple laps we were swallowed back up again. With expert timing, as soon as Oscar saw me surrender to the charging field, he jumped off the front, and within the next lap or two he joined the group already off the front. Nearing the end, another group of around 7 caught up to Oscar's group and they all rode it out to the finish. Because there had already been a group of 8 to lap the field, Oscar's group was battling it out for 9th place through 20 something. Oscar managed to get around 10th in the sprint, securing him 19th in the race.

The next day not much happened. After making the mistake of not coming to the front until the break had already escaped the first day, I made sure to stay up in the front for maybe the first 15 or 20 laps until it was clear that Rock Racing didn't care to get in a break that day. Unlike previous days or any other teams, Rock had 7 riders on Wednesday and were just sitting on and chasing attacks. As the field got whittled down to around 30 or 40 riders again, I waited until the closing 20 laps before I came back to the front. Attacks had started once again, and I was only jumping on the sruff that had Rock guys in it. Nothing stuck except for a really awesome solo effort by a member of the Columbian National Track team who will be going to the Olympics very soon. He escaped by himself and put 45 seconds on the rest of us by the finish. I didn't set up for the sprint very well and got a little held up by a couple guys in front of me that weren't contesting. I think I ended up placing about 30th.

Richton Park Crit (Monday)

Arriving in Richton park we looked at results from the previous day and found out that Thomas had placed 16th and I 19th. We also picked up our payout from the first 2 stages and have a combined total of $230 so far...hopefully we can keep adding to the pot!

I don't know if maybe none of us were just having the best day on the bike, or if the pace was really just that much faster.....but Monday's race was hard. There were a lot of fast guys there including a few riders from teams like Kelly Benefits, Rock Racing, Team Type 1, Texas Roadhouse (who won the stage), and Bissell. We did the full 100 km distance, and it seemed to crawl by as floated back and forth in through the field, not really wanting to expend too much energy before the finish. Pretty early on, a break of 8 got up the road and ended up lapping the field just before the finish despite the efforts of many riders who tried to up the pace with about 30 laps to go. When we finally did reach 10 to go I started moving up and jumping on some last minute attacks made by other riders, but I guess having already made the mistake of letting one break slip away today, no one in the bunch wanted to let it happen again. With about 3 to go, Thomas and I were just trying to hang tough towards the front, but I was really hurting at this point; we couldn't make it up far enough to be in contention for the sprint. As Thomas whizzed by me at the finish, I had no acceleration left and we both settled for around a top 30 or 40. Fast race.

Olympia Park Crit (Sunday's race)

First off, we found out results from the previous day. In the Blue Island crit, I crossed the line in 18th, Thomas in 25th, Oscar around 45th, and Jafer in 50th.

Sunday's Olympia Park crit was a pretty interesting race. As we arrived, parked, and jumped out to go sign in and survey the course, we found ourselves more or less in the middle of a construction site. The course, which they had shortened to a crazy .45 mi, was a 4 corner circuit through one of those ugly new neighborhoods where the developer just clear cuts hundreds of acres and then builds the same house about a hundred times....the only difference was that all the houses hadn't even been built yet. This meant that in parts of the course, on either side of the street there mud pits and construction supplies stacked up very close to the edge of the road.

About 30 min before our scheduled start time, the officials called all racers up to the line to get our opinion on something. Apparently they were in a debate with one another on whether or not we should even race; on the backside of the course there was little downhill that, when paired with the tailwind on that side, made for an extremely fast 3rd corner; other than that, there was a small but potentially deadly lip running the length of the course, on both sides of the road sticking out about a foot or so from the curbs. That, on top of the short distance of the lap had the officials worried that our race may develop into a chaotic free-for-all with numerous riders lapping the field numerous times in the midst of horrific crashes in the 3rd corner. Well, I can tell you that none of that happened, and it turned into a very sane race for the amount of deliberation and worry that went on before hand. Long story short, the officials didn't actually want our input, and we kinda just sat there for about 30 minutes watching them deliberate between running 2 separate heats, splitting up the pro/1 riders from us cat 2's (which we were all for, because that would have put us in good position for the stage win), shortening the race, or canceling it all together. In the end they decided to simply shorten it to 80 laps.

Once underway, Jafer and I both got flat tires (Jafer's almost causing him to wipe out in a corner) but were back in business pretty quick after visiting the Sram neutral support pit where they suited us up with some nice Zipp 404's that they used for spares. Thomas also ended up breaking a shifting cable in the midst of the action and was graciously allowed back in after a number of free laps.

There were a few crashes along the way, most, if not all happening in that 3rd corner. Jafer came closest to hitting the deck when he started sliding out in the 3rd corner but was caught and bounced back up by the guy riding on his inside through the turn. In one especially bad episode, an Australian rider went down in the 3rd turn and didn't get up. No one wanted to move him before the ambulance arrived so the race was stopped with only 16 laps (less than 8 miles) to go! We sat there at the start line for 15 or 20 min waiting for the rider to be carted from the road, and by the time we got under way again the pain of having cooled down after a hard effort had set in as I tried to get back up to speed.

The rest of the race played out fine. When we were stopped with 16 to go there was a 4 man break up the road with a strong Bissell rider in it; those guys survived the remainder without getting caught, and as Rock Racing lead out the field in the closing laps, Thomas held on for around a 10th place finish in the field (14th in the race). I wasn't too far behind, and while we don't have any results yet, I'm pretty sure I made it into the top 25 (that's how deep prize dolla bills go).

Superweek begins

Last night we competed in our first crit of the Superweek series. We will be racing here in Illinois through the 16th before we head up to Milwaukee for the remainder (the series goes through the 28th (i think), but we have yet to determine how many more races we will do once in Wisconsin before heading back home).

Yesterday was a simple, pan-flat crit course with 4 corners and wide city roads so with the exception of some indented man-hole covers and sizable cracks on the backside of the course, there was not much at all to slow the speed of the race. I think all 8 of our legs felt pretty good, but there was some fast (and sketchy) competition. In the closing laps we were packed into the peloton pretty tight, and Thomas and I managed to pass a few people in the long finishing stretch to both place inside the top 25.

The fans at this race were pretty incredible. The front (finishing) straight of the course was on the main street in Blue Island, and the back stretch tore through what looked like an old, rather historic neighborhood; both sides were lined with spectators, the front with the normal cheering crowd (including our host parents who had made a big green Kudzu.com sign to cheer us on), and the back was scattered with picnicking partiers. It seemed like every house the race passed had a canopy, chairs, and blankets scattering the front yard, with all the residents enjoying a dinner picnic as they screamed at us every lap. Not only this, but as soon as we pulled up and parked at the race, an older woman and two little boys (the woman and boys came separately) hurried over asking for our autographs! Not that our signatures would mean anything to them because they weren't exactly legible and I'm sure they've never heard of us before even if they could read the names we scribbled.....but it still felt really cool and motivating.

How dat boy pedal so fast?

Fitchburg wasn't all piss and games; after Oscar finished 14th in both the time trial and the road race's mountaintop finish, the boys dominated the last two sprinters' races, Thomas winning both of those. Winning 2 stages out of 4 is really quite impressive, and the dedication, determination, and skill with which Jafer and Oscar rode to get Thomas the wins was pretty amazing in itself.

I, on the other hand, went out to put in a couple good days of training by myself. Saturday, as the other three competed in the circuit race, I went out and did some repeats of this 20 min climb nearby, and then rode to the race in time to see the closing laps of the cat 2 race and our victory. Sunday, I arrived at the crit course just a minute or two after the finish of our race, so I just missed our second win. They did real good.

Piss party

My warm, clear stream steadily impacted and trickled down the bark of a pine tree across the street from the time trial start line at stage 1 of the Fitchburg Longsjo Classic. While I was fully aware of what I was pissing ON, what (or who) i was pissing OFF was another story. Apparently, as I pissed on the tree approximately 90 seconds before the start of my TT, I was being watched by a race official who, with was becoming increasingly pissed off with each additional drop of piss I added to the tree. With no knowledge of anyone's level of pissedness, I started the TT blissfully unaware of the fact that no matter how hard I pushed on the pedals, my result in the race would remain the same: DSQ. That stands for disqualified. Looking online through the results later that night, we discovered the DSQ, and Jeremy immediately called the head official to get an explanation. The official had witnessed me taking a piss, become pissed cause that was against the rules, and after arguing with him for a good long while, Jeremy became pissed at the official's stubborn manner. I, in turn, got pretty pissed at myself for pissing where the pissed official could see me. I was out of the race for the remaining 3 stages.

I'm back!!!

(Sorry for the long absence! I had a little problem at Fitchburg and didn't feel like writing, and then I was doing some hectic traveling so didn't get a chance to post, but I'll try to get everyone updated pretty soon.)

(This is something I actually posted after the Brownstown race but before Fitchburg, but I took it down to avoid Oscar the embarrassment....but sorry Oscar, I wanted to put it back up):


Shoulda been a BMXer

Our easy ride turned a bit hazardous today as Oscar and Thomas hit a sweet jump off this grass hill next to a barn on the side of the road. Sprinting off the side of the road and up over the top of this hill, Thomas was the first one to catch big air, and Oscar followed. Mike, Jackie, and I stayed safe and sound on the road to watch the two bozos in action. Right after Thomas rolled away from the jump clean, Oscar vaulted over the jump right behind him and looked to land clean himself....but not for long. The backside of the tabletop hill was really steep and Oscar landed half on it. Immediately after the landing there was a gravel driveway, and doing practically a nose-wheelie, Oscar plowed right into it and washed out, going down hard on his side. Unluckily for him the owners had decided to fill their driveway not only with gravel, but with broken bits of clam shell as well. They sliced into his skin real nice. That's his hand.

Brownstown Road Race

Saturday we drove the 45 min necessary to get to Brownstown, PA where we were registered to do a 50 mile circuit race. Nearing our destination not much looked different from the roads around here other than the fact that there were tons more horse drawn buggies on the road. I had seen them before out on rides around Kutztown, but before this I had maybe seen 2 or 3 in the last 3 weeks of riding. In Brownstown, they were all over the place. As we were getting ready by the car on the side of the road, a buggy would trot past us every couple minutes with the little Amish children sitting in the back seat staring at us (half naked and wearing bright-colored spandex) and all of us staring back at them (fully clothed, complete with suspenders and top hats). I think it was a real culturally eye-opening experience for both parties of starers. This was Amish country apparently.

Not long after we had registered, suited up, and pinned numbers, the clouds opened up to give us a nice soaking before the start of the race. Not long after, the rain stopped and we lined up to start the race......all 17 of us......that's right, there were only 17 people there to race in the Pro/1/2/3 category. As the race unfolded, we ended up making a mistake or two and two guys ended up off the front without us. No big deal right, it's only 2 guys versus the 4 of us, and one of the guys we knew was not very fast anyway....well that's what we thought. As Oscar and I went to the front and started chasing, these guys were still gaining time on us. The two of us were accompanied at the front by a couple other guys that were not only content to let us do the chasing, but they wanted to get in our way to slow the chase. So, one time, after a good hard pull, Oscar pulled off and slotted in line right behind me as I pulled through, first wheel now. He let a big gap open up in front of him and behind me as I pulled away from the bunch. Doing this, I was not actually supposed to go anywhere serious, it was just an effort to make all the guys sitting in behind Oscar a little scared and have to sprint around him in an effort to hold my wheel....but I guess everyone was content with going slow cause no one came around him. I ended up riding off the front by myself and was now in an effort to chase the leaders alone. Oscar eventually bridged up to help me but this was a pretty bad position to be in. Through the strong winds and intense rain, we just didn't have enough gas to close down the growing gap to the two leaders. I ended up with 3rd in the race and Oscar 4th. It still kinda blows my mind how those two guys gained such a big gap (around 2 min at the finish) on the rest of us, and honestly, it's kind of embarrassing.