Interbike 2011 - Indoor Day Three

I got up a bit slower and later than the previous days. The Sinclair party tired me out a bit more than expected, and, honestly, I didn't think I'd be hitting the sack at two in the morning. Or 2:30. Or whatever time it was.

Nonetheless I roused myself out of bed around 8 AM (or was it 9?) and headed down to the show.

This guy looks like I felt.

The head above is from the SRAM pART PROJECT. SRAM gave bits and pieces to a bunch of artists. There was a rollerskating robotic Aliens/Predator kind of guy too, but I missed it. Full list here.

I tried to boost the attendee count. These are my SprinterDellaCasa mates.

Those folks above were part of the assortment of weird stuff I found in the show office. No idea where they came from but they'd sometimes disappear for a bit, returning from destinations unknown at a later point. They look more fit than I do.

A 70 tooth ring!

The largest chainring I'd ever dealt with before was a 59T, on a teammate's dad's bike. He and his son would ride up to New Hampshire from southwest Connecticut, a 19-24 hour ride (depending on wind, weather, and fitness). When the dad described the massive descents and trying to hit higher top speeds, I jokingly suggested getting a bigger gear.

I should have known better because he already got a Specialized TriSpoke wheel to increase top speed (he learned the hard way to skip the front for those gusty 55 mph descents). I happened to be looking at chainrings and spotted some oddities, like a 60T. I let it slip that these 60T monsters existed.

"A 60 tooth!?"
"Um..."
"Order me one!"
"Um..."
"When will it be in?"
"Um..."

Since I brought it up, I finally gave in. I tried to order a 60T but it was out of stock - I had to settle for a 59T.

I think I already posted these pictures but I can't remember.
These are from back in the day.

On the bike.
I think it's a 45T for the small ring, giving a 14T difference.

Anyway the large 70T ring caught my eye. I'm glad they weren't around when I had the shop - even with really aggressive gearing the small ring would have to be as big as 53T or so (for a difference of 17T between the small and large ring - it's kind of like shifting from a 53T to a 37T. To ride to New Hampshire with a 70/53 would be a bit much.

My main goal today, with not much on my agenda, was to go really fast at Circulus. They closed at noon so I had to get my act together. Unfortunately my stomach wasn't cooperating - apparently the late night at Sinclair was a bit much for my fragile (pronounced "fra-gilly") body.

Nonetheless I persevered, getting to Circulus at about 11:30 AM.

Fans.
From left (with camera at face) Kevin, Rich, Julie, and...
The guy with the white shirt, I forget his name but he's the one that convinced me to do this.

It's not bad. The surface looks slick but it's pretty grippy, treated with a secret agent that really improves traction, to the point that I was thinking of it for things like garages and other polished floor surfaces.

They even treated the concrete just inside the wood, helping those going up or down from falling when their front wheel hits the slick looking (but not) concrete.

It's the Circulus track, a small (50 foot diameter) track built by the pdw folks.

Here are some stills from the helmet cam footage I took. I didn't do any on Day Three as I'd lent out my helmet cam mount out on the evening of Day Two and hadn't retrieved it yet. But I did do some on Day Two, just slower than Day Three. Ultimately I'll have a clip together, but that's ultimately, not right now.

My view.
Actually taken on Day Two, when I was warming up to the idea of going fast.

The camera's view of the same shot (iPhone low res, from Kevin).
Again, Day Two footage, therefore I'm going pitifully slow.
I'd lean more if I were going faster.

Note that I'm going backwards. Yes, if you go backwards you help unwind the dizziness.

At least that's what I told myself.

So how does it work?

It works well. I mean, obviously, right? I'm here, writing about it. I didn't fall off the banking, even when I got going a bit faster. Here's how I got going on the thing:

First, ride around in a circle on the flat part. It takes only 4 mph to stay on the wood, 11 mph to go "fast". I'll get to the "fast" in a bit. 4 mph is not that fast so it doesn't take much to get up to speed.

Second, when you want to get on the Circulus, you need to kind of aim up it. The guy there said to do it like you're "walling" on a BMX bike. I nodded like, "Yeah, I know what you mean," but I've never done that ever. I figured it's like riding up a... wood track.

Third, once you get going on the wood, commit. It takes power to commit, at least for me on the BMX bikes. They didn't have any allen wrenches nearby (and I didn't feel like walking around to the tool booths to borrow one), so I only rode the low-seat-height BMX bikes. On those bikes it takes a lot of quads and hamstrings.

Fourth, once you want to stop, fight the "Holy smokes I'm going to crash!" vibe. Instead, coast and allow the bike to slow. I found that I'd come down off the banking a little too fast to stay on the concrete so I'd let the bike veer back into the banking, go up, then really turn a bit to come back down. By then I'd have slowed down enough to avoid going back up.

Fifth, if you want to go fast, stay below the blue line. It's not as glamourous but it's a heck of a lot faster. For a 5 lap sprint it's about 6 seconds slower if you're up the banking versus down near the floor. It helps to be able to extend your legs a bit more than I am in that picture above.

Sixth, stop after 10 laps or so. You get pretty dizzy when you stop. I found it helps to go backwards on the track for a bit (clockwise) to kind of "reset" the brain. If you've never ridden the track then do a backwards set as soon as you finish your first forwards set. This way you don't get your body hardwired to only go counterclockwise. If you keep going in just one direction, and it's easy to fall into that trap, it get to be pretty difficult to stand up without tottering like a drunk.

Speaking of which...

Seventh, and this is strictly optional, do NOT drink a lot of vodka cranberries the night before. Or tequila or rum or beer or any number of fuzzy brain drinks available around here. I set out on Day Three to do a couple flying 5 lap time trials, trying to come close to the 20.3 second time set on Day Two's competitions. When you do a hard effort, on a 50 foot wide circle, leaning at some absurd angle to the floor, on a bumpy surface, pedaling with the saddle too low, going totally anaerobic, it hurts if you've had fuzzy brain drinks in the recent past.

Although I felt pretty queasy for a bit after my first flying 5 lap effort (I mentally calculated where I had to run to get to the bathroom, or, worse, a garbage can), the feeling passed enough so I could do a second one.

Day Three footage was a bit faster but I never broke 20.3 seconds. Unfortunately I rode about a second a lap slower. I think my final two laps were much slower than my first three, due to the low pedaling position. I couldn't stand because I wasn't able to control the bike at speed while out of the saddle.

Kevin giving it a go.
He's tall enough to use the fast bikes with 700c wheels.

With Circulus on the way to Quality Bicycle Products (if your order has some weird errors in it, you may wonder if the picker just did a few laps on Circulus), I don't know when I'll be able to ride it again. But if I do, I'll know to come prepared with a few allen wrenches and a full helmet cam setup.

And, I have to admit, I got that hankering to get a BMX bike again, just to practice wheelies or walling or bunny hops. I'll probably get over it but still, I hadn't thought about that in a while.

After Circulus I had to chill a bit, literally, as I had overheated a bit. I got to talk again with some of my "IB2011" finds, the products that I figured were really cool. I'll write about them coming up, but they have to do mainly with small companies offering innovative products. With a bit of development, usually a cash injection, and a network for distribution, these products have a chance of really affecting the market. I also thought of some future trends for the industry (okay, one, for the road market), although again I'll write about them in future posts.

At 4 PM a voice came over the PA. I didn't record it, maybe I'll remember next year, but basically a female voice (IB staff) said that we'd finished up Interbike 2011. I could hear small cheers from around the hall. Small cheers because, by now, most of the vendors were close to losing their voices (like I did one year, with 15 minutes to go). Those folks must have applauded because I heard some clapping too.

All the hard work for the show management folks had finished, at least 99.9% of it. A few details, a post-show meeting or three, and that would be it. They could start thinking about and working on 2012. But, ever so briefly, they could think about relaxing just a bit. For the Interbike folks it's really hard work, putting things together for the whole year, culminating in just a few days of show, all their efforts for this one magical week in September.

Two of the Interbike ladies, Lindsay and Jenni (I hope I got that right), in the show office at the end of the day.
Those are foot massage things under their feet.

For the attendees it was like when a movie ends - the lights go on and everyone files out. All the scenes and music and parts and bikes and emotions and excitement from the show become a bit muted. Dealers stand around, blinking a bit, wondering what just happened. They could now relax with the only immediate task ahead being not to miss the flight home.

For the exhibitors it's the beginning of the final bit of the show - packing and leaving, like what race promoters do when the races finish up for the day. Having been there I know that some of the hardworking souls would be there until the wee hours of the night, working hard to pack stuff up before the show floor had to be cleared. The years I worked with an exhibitor ended up the hardest years of Interbike, and the hours following the show were the hardest of the hardest.

And, yes, I've lost my voice at Interbike, although it went with only 15 minutes to go. Dismissed for the rest of the show (all 15 minutes of it), I immediately headed over to the race DVD booth and, using hand gestures, bought a few DVDs.

When many of the lights go out you know it's done, and when that happened, we finally accepted that it was all over. As we walked out booths start coming down, revealing the mystery of the wizardry, the guts of the booth magic. It's a bit of a let down each year for me, this disassembly, at least until I worked with an exhibitor. I liked seeing the booths full and complete, nice displays and all. Seeing them start to come apart... it just meant that the show was ending.

In contrast to the Sinclair party the night before, Friday night ended up very tame. A bit exhausted, Kevin, Julie, and I went out for dinner at the Grand Lux (Venetian one, not the Palazzo one). Rich, caught up in some business, missed out on our early dinner, so we finished without him.

Kevin and I called it a night at that point. He had an early morning departure time (4 AM) to get home for real life stuff, and I had a slightly less early breakfast date. We talked about stuff, did some packing, packed away the various schwag, and texted and called and emailed friends and family.

I only had to get home to return to real life again. As magical as Interbike always is, it always has to end. Magic can't last forever because if it did it would become just "life".

Or, as the various vendors joke to each other at the show, where the incongruity of being surrounded by your passion yet working your butt off...

"So how's it going?" (preferably asked when booth is half set up or half brought down, or when it's 2 PM and the crazy busy booth has obviously kept the vendor from eating any regular food for 5 hours).

"Livin' the dream," with a big sigh.

Eyes meet. Grins all around.

"Oh, right. Livin' the dream."

Laughter.

Still, though, it is a dream. It's got to be, right?

Once again, dream or otherwise, I got to experience the magic of Interbike.

Here's to a great 2012 for all the exhibitors and attendees, to the media, and, finally, to the show management. I heard someone talk about coming back to Vegas. Therefore...

Viva Las Vegas!

Can't wait for Interbike 2012.

Interbike 2011 - Indoor Day One

Welcome.

After a late night out - we had dinner after the Lavo party and got back at about 2 AM - I snapped awake at about 6:30 AM. I wanted to get to the show around 8, an hour before the main floor opened (the first floor opened at 8, the second at 9). I showered and dressed quickly, fortunate that I felt no lingering effects of the night before.

Wearing my new shoes for only the second time ever, I set off. Last year I broke in brand new shoes at Interbike too - I highly recommend this method of breaking in shoes, especially if you believe in the "dive into the deep end" method of learning how to swim. Anyway, with my now-molded-to-my-feet shoes slapping the concrete I caught the shuttle to the show. Unbelievably the clouds were emptying out again - it was raining for the third day in a row (?!). After a long drive in the shuttle me and my shoes got to the show in good order.

The first person I recognized, other than Rich, was Nelson Vails. As usual he dressed to the nines, in a suit, tie, and even the matching ruffles sticking out of his jacket pocket.

Conspicuously absent?

A lanyard holding a badge.

Rich asked where he had his badge.

"No badge. I don't need a badge."
"What do you tell security?"
"I don't need a badge. I walk up and when they ask me about my badge, I tell them 'no badge, but check those guys' IDs'. So they let me through and checked all the guys behind me for ID."

Only Nelson could get away with that.

We walked up to the show doors, before the show opened. The security guard let Nelson in and checked our badges.

I felt almost lucky I didn't have to show my ID.

Nelson checked out the Circulus track, a small (50 foot diameter) track built by the pdw folks. The pdw folks were really friendly and really encouraging, inviting us out to check out the track. Nelson asked if he could walk in and poke around.

The badgeless Nelson Vails, 1984 Olympic Gold, 200m sprints, and hotel management lookalike.

Nelson declined. But me?

Hm.

I have to think about that.

Artwork.

On the way to the media center we walked by the art display. The pieces here were commissioned by Interbike (I think) and the proceeds goes to various bike advocacy things. Something like that.

Once at the media center I realized I forgot the MiFi little card thing and my USB phone charger. Luckily the Nissan display of the Leaf also had a charger station - I used it to keep the phone from going critical. The MiFi was less an issue, although there are so many networks in here that you could probably hold up a fluorescent bulb and see a glow.

(You can try this under high tension power lines... just don't stay there too long.)

I managed to find a copy of the Show Daily, a review of what happened the day before. Lo and behold, what did I find?

Hunter, with white helmet, representing Connecticut and Cheshire Cycle.

I got into my role, scoping out stuff and setting up appointments for David. It's tough trying to coordinate all that, but overall it worked out pretty well. My role this year was more booking and such so after taking care of the day's schedule I got to browse around.

I stood in line for two signed posters (Dave Z and Ryder H), small posters (excellent for transportability), but otherwise checked out only a few things.

Dave Z's shoes say "Z". Sort of.

He seemed ruefully resigned to his autograph duties, but he still did them. I have no idea if these guys remember folks from one signing to another, but I imagine they remember the real oddballs.

Hopefully they don't remember me.

During the day I saw Richard Masoner, aka Cyclicious. He was munching on pistachios. I had to take a picture because the Missus had bought me the exact same kind of pistachios just a week or two ago.

Cyclicious Richard Masoner, with pistachios.

The first indoor day always seems busy. The booth girls are around usually on this day only. Everyone's dying to see what's out there. And every blogger and cycling news site is scrambling to scoop the others.

The Garmin booth was... crowded.

Believe it or not I did little research on anything this year, so although I saw the mobbed booth, I didn't try and take time away from those in there. I felt a bit overwhelmed with the show this year for whatever reason. I had to get used to the floor layout, figure out where the two sets of escalators sat (to get downstairs), and figure out where some of the office rooms sat.

The day rushed by, my legs tired, my feet reasonably okay, the shoes spectacular from a comfort point of view.

We had a short break to coordinate travel and such, then jumped in a minivan for a short drive. Tonight the after hours stuff was pretty tame, at least compared to last night. I stuck with drinking soda and water when we went to...

VIVA CROSS VEGAS!

Sorry. It's just that it's one of those things you can't say quietly.

Subaru bell.
I chose that side for this picture in honor of the Rent's team's sponsor, New England Subaru.

I figured this was a great way to end a 10 hour day spent on my feet - stand another few hours on uneven ground. By the end of the racing all sorts of weird muscles in my legs were cramping up.

Now, mind you, you really haven't seen much 'cross here. There are a few reasons for this.

1. I don't race 'cross.

2. I've never raced 'cross.

3. Even if I wanted to try it, I don't have a 'cross bike.

Although properly impressed with the athleticism out there, within a few minutes of watching the next race up (Elite Women's), I realized 'cross is really not for me.

For a moment I had some hope, a flickering. The field looked bunched up, like a crit field on a really narrow grass course, blasting by at speed, just after the start.

Then, within a few minutes, the group first strung out, started splitting, and then blew up into a million pieces.

I looked at how hard the women worked just to maintain speed on the tire-sucking grass and dirt. I thought about how it'd be to be there, to try and power through a hundred yards of muck, turn, do another hundred yards, all while never being able to coast or really draft or anything to ease the pain.

I thought of me doing such a thing.

"No way."

Then the Pro men went off. Holy smokes! Barrier to barrier at the start, they practically took the spectators' hands, heads, and cameras off.

Although it took a couple laps for the group to thin down, it still followed the same pattern. Mad rush at start. Racers blowing up as they hit the wall while trying to maintain what would essentially be about the same power (i.e. to power through dirt you need to pedal pretty hard - there's no coasting there).

As a given racer's fuse expired, he'd blow up and drop off. His position in the field at that moment depended on his skill at moving up, his cornering skills, technical skills in the run up, etc. The exploding racer would then typically leave a gap.

Others would go around, try and close it, redlining yet another racer or three.

More gaps.

More going around.

And even more gaps.

Interestingly enough I saw riders way up front blowing up early - it seems that they either went way too hard to get position or they had better technique but less fitness than those behind. I suspect the latter because 'cross is like running - if you can't hold a certain pace you get shelled, period.

No clever riding, no saving grace through technique and such. If you can't go fast, you lose.

Then, after thinking about the implications of the different types of terrain offered through the course, I thought of my ideal 'cross race. If such a creature popped up I'd think about trying it. So, if you want to get me on a 'cross bike, this is the course you need to make.

- Lots of corners, mainly on downhills

- As much pavement as possible

- Run ups as necessary

- Not a lot of flat stuff.

If you read into the requirements you'll realize that such a course would emphasize technique more than fitness. Corners, fast stuff (where you can draft if with someone), run ups, those all favor a crit-type rider. It avoids the flat power stuff, the stuff that requires super hard efforts, where wattage becomes king.

I had fun watching, my right ear hurt from someone ringing a bell right next to it, and I grinned a lot. After the races we packed up and headed out.

I wasn't sure how to summarize the whole 'cross race but then this car rolled by.

Piled into the car.
There's someone in the trunk too, maybe two of them.

It's what 'cross is.