Entries from April 1, 2007 - May 1, 2007
Teachers Need To Stop Teaching That the Midwest Is Flat.
Short Story: Brutal and Very Disappointed
I will update with pictures and links later.
Long Story:
A 4 AM race start means we were out of bed at 3. The wonderful people of the Bluff Inn in Dacorah, Iowa were nice enough to lay out the continental breakfast hours early so we had a snack before we were to leave. I had spent alot of time the day before to make sure everything was packed up right so I did not have to worry about it so early in the morning. We all put on our new Team Pegasus kits, bikes on top of the mini van and off we went. Through a completly deserted Iowa town to rural road that lloks like any other road in the middle of the night except for the 50 or so blinking red tail lights of the other riders.
We pilled out of the car to join the group of people waiting to start. It was about 15 minutes until the start, occupied by lustfully looking at all the hot rides that everyone seemed to be riding. The time of speculation and planning was over. There was nothing eft to talk about as everyones mind was anxiously, nervously, excitedly awaiting the start. The Guitar Ted gives a few anouncements. One of which was that there were going to be some hills in the first 15 miles where the riders could easily top 40 MPH and in the dark, headlights are not going to project far enough ahead of you at that speed. BAsically to be careful in the first 15 miles becasue there are still 300 to go. Everyone gets a little quiter and clipps in. His little blue honda starts rolling up the starting hill, which started off the ride in the fashion it would countinue in. That first hill was really long, and really steep.
For me, the next 20 miles in the dark were pretty uneventful. It was fun, seeing as I have never ridden in the complete dark before. My headlights are super bright, but when I had to be going slow (under 6 MPH) up really steep hills, I had to turn off the secondary head light so the main one was bright enough. As day started to break, Guitar Ted's comment about fast hill decents became a reality. All the climbing we had done for the past hour was now culminating in a super steep downhill. The road widened and the turns widened as we swooped through the fog into a valley. The temperature dropped dramatically. The valley was super pretty, there was a stream running through it and there were cows that had been "put out to pasture" and were moving through this field in a long group. Quite, pretty, cold.
The transition between complete blackness, dawn and day was alot faster than I expected. Stopping to put on sunscreen early. As soon as the sun was up there was something that was bothering me. All along the side of the road, sometimes at only 100 foot intervals, would be empty beer cans. Alomost entirely comprised of Busch Light. Knowing that I was going to be riding through another night, probably alone, I was worried about dealing with drunk cowboy folk happening on a lone rider. (Later in the day) It occured to me that Julie was behind me and probably alone as well. The problem I was worried about with drunk drivers at night was bad for me, but could be worse for her.
I chugged along at a decent pace. Averaging about 13.5 MPH which would have been respecatable overall and was really close to the pace I wanted to keep. Through a small town and down some more gravel roads. We rode by some cows that had escaped during the night on one of those roads. Funny thing, they did not go anywhere. They were just eating the stuff on the outside of the fence. Stupid Cows. After that is was alot of the same thing. Brutal hills. Long and steep. It is hard to explain without actually having seen them. They would go up, then turn a corner and go up further. And they were really steep. Or they would be short and steep, but once at the top, it would drop right back down, just to go up again. I rode primarily alone, allowing me to ride at a pace I wanted to keep. *Insert start of knee pain here at about mile 50*
Rolling into postville, Cale and the group he was riding with was just about to roll out of the parking lot of a grocery store. I shouted a few things insulting his manhood about why he had to stop for supplies, since I was carrying everything I needed, and rolled out with them not stopping, except to switch water bottles. I only rode with them briefly, as they were going a little faster than I wanted to be going, which was alright. I did not want to hold them back and they did not want ot be held. The rolling hills kept up and the wind got stronger. By mile 80 my knees really were starting to hurt and thoughts of Julie (and the drunks) were pretty persistant. Entering a small town with little in the way of services, I stopped and rested under a tree. I was there for about and hour, seriously doubting that I'd finish, but knowing that Julie is strong and was determined. I wanted to wait and ride with her, and I'd ride with her as long as I could and through the night so that she was not a girl alone on a dark road in the middle of nowhere. After about an hour, I figured I would just press on and wait for her at the one and only checkpoint at mile 130.
So off I went into the wind. You know it is a strong wind when you are going down hill at 15 MPH tops and climbing them at around 6 MPH. It was strong and steady and the knees were not helping. My knees only got worse from here on out. By the end I could only barely press down on my pedals. The cyclocomputer said 116 miles and I made the call. Dan said that Julie was already out, to my suprise, which made it a little easier to stop. I told them where I was and to please come get me. They were about 50 miles away (an hour) and I kept pushing foward. In that hour I rode 4 miles, finishing my ride at 120 miles.
I will probably post tomorrow or later about how this has potentially changed what type of cycling I am going to continue doing. The last few months have helped me really understand and focus on what I really enjoy about cycling and what I want to get out of it. But at the same time, I have never been prevented from finishing something because of pain. Being forced to stop becasue my body could not continue is strange. I can usually push through the pain, but when you are at the point where it is a neccessity to stop because of pain, you never want to be in that position again. It has made me feel very weak.
So good things: I rode 120 miles completely self supported. I never needed water or food. I did not flat once. My arms are nice and tan. Sunrise. Miles. Hammer Perpetum Rules, I was never hungry. After 120 miles I was still strong, energetic and comfortable. It was just the knee pain that stopped me. Fastest speed 33.2 MPH.
Bad things: steep hills and a heavy load. There wont be a next time, but if there was I'd carry much less. I would not switch pedals the day before the race. Fatter tires. The 28s were good, but made it so I had to go much slower on the downhills.
And a gigantic congradulations to Cale Wenther. Team Pegasus teammate and the one who got me to try this in the first place. He finished ~350 miles in just over 30 hours on his single speed. Fucking amazing job buddy. I am really proud of you.
I will update with pictures and links later.
Long Story:
A 4 AM race start means we were out of bed at 3. The wonderful people of the Bluff Inn in Dacorah, Iowa were nice enough to lay out the continental breakfast hours early so we had a snack before we were to leave. I had spent alot of time the day before to make sure everything was packed up right so I did not have to worry about it so early in the morning. We all put on our new Team Pegasus kits, bikes on top of the mini van and off we went. Through a completly deserted Iowa town to rural road that lloks like any other road in the middle of the night except for the 50 or so blinking red tail lights of the other riders.
We pilled out of the car to join the group of people waiting to start. It was about 15 minutes until the start, occupied by lustfully looking at all the hot rides that everyone seemed to be riding. The time of speculation and planning was over. There was nothing eft to talk about as everyones mind was anxiously, nervously, excitedly awaiting the start. The Guitar Ted gives a few anouncements. One of which was that there were going to be some hills in the first 15 miles where the riders could easily top 40 MPH and in the dark, headlights are not going to project far enough ahead of you at that speed. BAsically to be careful in the first 15 miles becasue there are still 300 to go. Everyone gets a little quiter and clipps in. His little blue honda starts rolling up the starting hill, which started off the ride in the fashion it would countinue in. That first hill was really long, and really steep.
For me, the next 20 miles in the dark were pretty uneventful. It was fun, seeing as I have never ridden in the complete dark before. My headlights are super bright, but when I had to be going slow (under 6 MPH) up really steep hills, I had to turn off the secondary head light so the main one was bright enough. As day started to break, Guitar Ted's comment about fast hill decents became a reality. All the climbing we had done for the past hour was now culminating in a super steep downhill. The road widened and the turns widened as we swooped through the fog into a valley. The temperature dropped dramatically. The valley was super pretty, there was a stream running through it and there were cows that had been "put out to pasture" and were moving through this field in a long group. Quite, pretty, cold.
The transition between complete blackness, dawn and day was alot faster than I expected. Stopping to put on sunscreen early. As soon as the sun was up there was something that was bothering me. All along the side of the road, sometimes at only 100 foot intervals, would be empty beer cans. Alomost entirely comprised of Busch Light. Knowing that I was going to be riding through another night, probably alone, I was worried about dealing with drunk cowboy folk happening on a lone rider. (Later in the day) It occured to me that Julie was behind me and probably alone as well. The problem I was worried about with drunk drivers at night was bad for me, but could be worse for her.
I chugged along at a decent pace. Averaging about 13.5 MPH which would have been respecatable overall and was really close to the pace I wanted to keep. Through a small town and down some more gravel roads. We rode by some cows that had escaped during the night on one of those roads. Funny thing, they did not go anywhere. They were just eating the stuff on the outside of the fence. Stupid Cows. After that is was alot of the same thing. Brutal hills. Long and steep. It is hard to explain without actually having seen them. They would go up, then turn a corner and go up further. And they were really steep. Or they would be short and steep, but once at the top, it would drop right back down, just to go up again. I rode primarily alone, allowing me to ride at a pace I wanted to keep. *Insert start of knee pain here at about mile 50*
Rolling into postville, Cale and the group he was riding with was just about to roll out of the parking lot of a grocery store. I shouted a few things insulting his manhood about why he had to stop for supplies, since I was carrying everything I needed, and rolled out with them not stopping, except to switch water bottles. I only rode with them briefly, as they were going a little faster than I wanted to be going, which was alright. I did not want to hold them back and they did not want ot be held. The rolling hills kept up and the wind got stronger. By mile 80 my knees really were starting to hurt and thoughts of Julie (and the drunks) were pretty persistant. Entering a small town with little in the way of services, I stopped and rested under a tree. I was there for about and hour, seriously doubting that I'd finish, but knowing that Julie is strong and was determined. I wanted to wait and ride with her, and I'd ride with her as long as I could and through the night so that she was not a girl alone on a dark road in the middle of nowhere. After about an hour, I figured I would just press on and wait for her at the one and only checkpoint at mile 130.
So off I went into the wind. You know it is a strong wind when you are going down hill at 15 MPH tops and climbing them at around 6 MPH. It was strong and steady and the knees were not helping. My knees only got worse from here on out. By the end I could only barely press down on my pedals. The cyclocomputer said 116 miles and I made the call. Dan said that Julie was already out, to my suprise, which made it a little easier to stop. I told them where I was and to please come get me. They were about 50 miles away (an hour) and I kept pushing foward. In that hour I rode 4 miles, finishing my ride at 120 miles.
I will probably post tomorrow or later about how this has potentially changed what type of cycling I am going to continue doing. The last few months have helped me really understand and focus on what I really enjoy about cycling and what I want to get out of it. But at the same time, I have never been prevented from finishing something because of pain. Being forced to stop becasue my body could not continue is strange. I can usually push through the pain, but when you are at the point where it is a neccessity to stop because of pain, you never want to be in that position again. It has made me feel very weak.
So good things: I rode 120 miles completely self supported. I never needed water or food. I did not flat once. My arms are nice and tan. Sunrise. Miles. Hammer Perpetum Rules, I was never hungry. After 120 miles I was still strong, energetic and comfortable. It was just the knee pain that stopped me. Fastest speed 33.2 MPH.
Bad things: steep hills and a heavy load. There wont be a next time, but if there was I'd carry much less. I would not switch pedals the day before the race. Fatter tires. The 28s were good, but made it so I had to go much slower on the downhills.
And a gigantic congradulations to Cale Wenther. Team Pegasus teammate and the one who got me to try this in the first place. He finished ~350 miles in just over 30 hours on his single speed. Fucking amazing job buddy. I am really proud of you.
BenPopper
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Trans-Iowa V.3
Trans-Iowa, raise your glass.
Here is to one cue sheet at a time.
Here is to watching the sunrise once.
Here is to riding every minute of the daylight.
Here is to riding through midnight.
Here is to riding for twenty four hours straight.
Here is to watching a second consecutive sunrise on my bike.
Here is to riding 323 miles, unsupported on gravel roads in Iowa.
I am nothing but nervous, yet strangley calm two days out. What I have in me will be tested.
Here is to giving it everything I have.
Here is to one cue sheet at a time.
Here is to watching the sunrise once.
Here is to riding every minute of the daylight.
Here is to riding through midnight.
Here is to riding for twenty four hours straight.
Here is to watching a second consecutive sunrise on my bike.
Here is to riding 323 miles, unsupported on gravel roads in Iowa.
I am nothing but nervous, yet strangley calm two days out. What I have in me will be tested.
Here is to giving it everything I have.
The First Day of the Rest of the Season
This weekend was long. Long. But not as long as it was for others. Not that it was bad, I can not think of much I would have rather done. Long does not mean it was not relaxing, just that it was one of those weekends that does not stop until you wake up for work Monday morning. Friday night, a combination of bike, CTA, shuttle bus and rental car got me to Delavan, WI at one in the morning. Julie, Ben and I drove up for the first of four rides of the Great Lakes Randonneurs season. They were to do the 200k. So it was up bright and early to see them off at eight. This left me with about nine hours to do whatever I pleased. So, I had brought the VooDoo with and had planned to meet Cale and Gunner at Kettle Moraine to ride some myself.
I have been yearning for a good MTB ride for weeks. The last time I had been out was in the snow and the time before that was strictly fireroad riding. It had been way too long. Kettle is probably the best trail system within a reasonable distance of Chicago. The two hour drive is well worth it. The early rising put me at the trail head a good hour before Cale and Gunner were to arrive so I went to the general store and had myself a sandwhich and a giant pickle. Then back to the trails, park the car, put on the Sidis and roll out to fill up the camelpack. It was so early in the season the park system had not unlocked and turned on the water yet. So, I was there with 2 water bottles for the day. I rode the white (or pink), whichever is shortest, loop twice and popped out back into the parking lot. No sign of Cale yet, so I set out onto County Highway H and rode the gravel shoulder for a while. Trans-Iowa here I come. Eventually they show and we all are ready for the trail. We found the trail conditions to be perfect. Better than I could have hoped for. Packed solid, smooth and not even very dusty. The first 2/3 of the ~31 miles we did were fantastic. The bike is super responsive with the Pace fork and big tires. Cale and I are going to rule the two person teamed WEMS races. I felt really good, really fast and really strong. I could not help but to climb each hill quickly and push it down the backside as fast as possible. This lead to only one small altercation with a tree. Involving down hill, too fast into a switchback, too hard of a rear brake pull, a little bit of wash out and then a young tree not giving an inch. I was almost stopped when I side swiped it, but the tree made sure that i was brought to a complete stop. But that is not what hurt. It was the resulting missing of a clip-in to smashing my boy bits on the saddle. The bad feeling lasted only to the top of the next hill and the following dash down, all but made the pain a memory. But once out around the back side of the far loop after the connector trail, with no water, I really started to fade. Cale said, "When you stop talking to eachother, you know it is bad. That is when you are in pain." We all agreeed. In the end though Gunner was waiting for us in the parking lot, laying in the sun. When he saw how ragged we were pulling in, he knew he made the right choice to turn back when he did. I think Cale and I would have been much better with more water. Once your body does not have what it needs anymore, it is finished and there is not much you can do to fix that. *Note to self: remember this.* The bigger problem is once your body gets tired, you start making mistakes. This is bad news. You kill your momentum by choosing the wrong line. You take the turns too wide. Those close calls happen much more and way too often.
Looking at the race schedule I have in front of me, I am beginning to think that my hopes of achieving good placing on the track this year are foolish. I am quick on my mountain bike. I could do well at the track, but honestly, that just might wear myself out. We will see how the first few weeks go, but if I am not in it to win it, I think my time might be better spent off road.
I have been yearning for a good MTB ride for weeks. The last time I had been out was in the snow and the time before that was strictly fireroad riding. It had been way too long. Kettle is probably the best trail system within a reasonable distance of Chicago. The two hour drive is well worth it. The early rising put me at the trail head a good hour before Cale and Gunner were to arrive so I went to the general store and had myself a sandwhich and a giant pickle. Then back to the trails, park the car, put on the Sidis and roll out to fill up the camelpack. It was so early in the season the park system had not unlocked and turned on the water yet. So, I was there with 2 water bottles for the day. I rode the white (or pink), whichever is shortest, loop twice and popped out back into the parking lot. No sign of Cale yet, so I set out onto County Highway H and rode the gravel shoulder for a while. Trans-Iowa here I come. Eventually they show and we all are ready for the trail. We found the trail conditions to be perfect. Better than I could have hoped for. Packed solid, smooth and not even very dusty. The first 2/3 of the ~31 miles we did were fantastic. The bike is super responsive with the Pace fork and big tires. Cale and I are going to rule the two person teamed WEMS races. I felt really good, really fast and really strong. I could not help but to climb each hill quickly and push it down the backside as fast as possible. This lead to only one small altercation with a tree. Involving down hill, too fast into a switchback, too hard of a rear brake pull, a little bit of wash out and then a young tree not giving an inch. I was almost stopped when I side swiped it, but the tree made sure that i was brought to a complete stop. But that is not what hurt. It was the resulting missing of a clip-in to smashing my boy bits on the saddle. The bad feeling lasted only to the top of the next hill and the following dash down, all but made the pain a memory. But once out around the back side of the far loop after the connector trail, with no water, I really started to fade. Cale said, "When you stop talking to eachother, you know it is bad. That is when you are in pain." We all agreeed. In the end though Gunner was waiting for us in the parking lot, laying in the sun. When he saw how ragged we were pulling in, he knew he made the right choice to turn back when he did. I think Cale and I would have been much better with more water. Once your body does not have what it needs anymore, it is finished and there is not much you can do to fix that. *Note to self: remember this.* The bigger problem is once your body gets tired, you start making mistakes. This is bad news. You kill your momentum by choosing the wrong line. You take the turns too wide. Those close calls happen much more and way too often.
Looking at the race schedule I have in front of me, I am beginning to think that my hopes of achieving good placing on the track this year are foolish. I am quick on my mountain bike. I could do well at the track, but honestly, that just might wear myself out. We will see how the first few weeks go, but if I am not in it to win it, I think my time might be better spent off road.
The Boss is Out Of Town and The Crew Has Taken Over the Ship
It has been relaxing to say the least. I have a pretty nice work load and just getting things done that need to be done. I'd say I am taking care of everything really well. Last week, I finished Hollywood while working the door at the Goldstar. Bukowski, I felt, was pretty appropriate. Then I read and finished Pulp, which has been my least favorite of his books so far. And now am well into Women. I do no think he has any novels left once I am done with this one. Taking up another recomendation and will be reading After the Quake by Haruki Murakami. And generally totally slacking on a reading / discussion group I am part of. Although, the trend seems to be that once an author dies I find there is a new found intrest on my part in their writtings. Kurt Vonnegut is in my future.
As time flies, a week and 1/2 ago Julie and I went to DC to race the Easter Egg Hunt Alleycat put on by Spud. Took 1st out of town and 2nd overall with Julie coming in right behind me. This is much in part to having Tink as a guide. More importantly though, I have not raced in a long time and my legs felt good. Makes me a little more confident in the upcoming season. Which, by the way, starts in a week and 1/2 with Trans-Iowa Version 3. That will probably be the hardest ride I have ever done and I am no where near prepared. All the same, I am not worrying about it.
This past weekend did not have grand plans, but it was filled with fun. Friday night Henry and Ann came over for dinner. Julie and I made Tamale Pie out of the Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook, which has yet to steer us wrong. Henry and Ann brought some margarita mix, very appropriate, and we had chips and salsa before the main course. Well, the drinks we were making were strong and the number consumed was high. We finished one bottle of tequila and moved on to a second. There were events that transpired that night that no one remembers. The dishes were done and I made some weird post on a message board. The, almost finished, bottle of mix was left in the fridge. It was not until Sunday morning we realized the mix we were using for the already stiff drinks, had the alchohol already mixed in. Those were som pretty good drinks.
Saturday afternoon was the second instalment of the Bandit Cross series here in town, that i am organizing. It went really well. I wish I would have been able to race the course. It was fun, challanging and brutal.
But the best part of the weekend was that I got my Bianchi back with two custom made racks from Ahren who is the builder for Banjo Cycles. They are pretty amazing. The drive up into rural Wisconsin, which I do fairly often, always seems to give me something to look for. Right wing wack-o religious billboards and road side crosses, the trees along the highway filled with hand tied yellow ribbons (they had to have a ladder on the side of the highway), and the crazy crap people tow and the even crazier ways they attach it to the trailer. I am telling you people, the chain around the muffler is not going to keep the car on that traile
As time flies, a week and 1/2 ago Julie and I went to DC to race the Easter Egg Hunt Alleycat put on by Spud. Took 1st out of town and 2nd overall with Julie coming in right behind me. This is much in part to having Tink as a guide. More importantly though, I have not raced in a long time and my legs felt good. Makes me a little more confident in the upcoming season. Which, by the way, starts in a week and 1/2 with Trans-Iowa Version 3. That will probably be the hardest ride I have ever done and I am no where near prepared. All the same, I am not worrying about it.
This past weekend did not have grand plans, but it was filled with fun. Friday night Henry and Ann came over for dinner. Julie and I made Tamale Pie out of the Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook, which has yet to steer us wrong. Henry and Ann brought some margarita mix, very appropriate, and we had chips and salsa before the main course. Well, the drinks we were making were strong and the number consumed was high. We finished one bottle of tequila and moved on to a second. There were events that transpired that night that no one remembers. The dishes were done and I made some weird post on a message board. The, almost finished, bottle of mix was left in the fridge. It was not until Sunday morning we realized the mix we were using for the already stiff drinks, had the alchohol already mixed in. Those were som pretty good drinks.
Saturday afternoon was the second instalment of the Bandit Cross series here in town, that i am organizing. It went really well. I wish I would have been able to race the course. It was fun, challanging and brutal.
But the best part of the weekend was that I got my Bianchi back with two custom made racks from Ahren who is the builder for Banjo Cycles. They are pretty amazing. The drive up into rural Wisconsin, which I do fairly often, always seems to give me something to look for. Right wing wack-o religious billboards and road side crosses, the trees along the highway filled with hand tied yellow ribbons (they had to have a ladder on the side of the highway), and the crazy crap people tow and the even crazier ways they attach it to the trailer. I am telling you people, the chain around the muffler is not going to keep the car on that traile