Tactics - Cornering

The next bit on the four part series is cornering. The Rent is a great race for new racers because there are corners enough to challenge you but not getting into the "dangerous" range of corners. Yes, there have been crashes in corners, but generally speaking the corners at the Rent are manageable with the 40-60 rider field sizes we see on a Tuesday. It helps that the race gets strung out pretty regularly so the field is only a few riders wide at speed.

Cornering Can Be Scary

I think the scariest part of mass start racing was the cornering in the field. In fact even now, when I get to a race and I see a pack of racers diving into a turn, I wonder how they all make it without crashing. Of course once I'm whatever race I'm doing then it's okay, but watching it from the outside is still intimidating for me, 30-odd years after I started racing.

I addressed some cornering thoughts in previous posts on the blog. One highlight:
Late Apex and Looking Where You're Going

The big takeaway from that post is that you should strive to look where you're going. I've read (but not confirmed) that people tend to go where they look. For me that holds true so I try to look forward through turns. I do look around the front of my bike also, just to be safe, but generally I'm looking forward.

How Do You Corner In A Field?

The most important thing when cornering in a field is to follow the other racers. It sounds basic but you'd be surprised at how many racers try to follow some imaginary "optimal line" and end up going across other riders' paths.

Optimal cornering lines only exist if you're riding alone or, in rare cases, if you're leading out a very strung out field. For example, in this leadout, I knew that the field was waiting for me so I could choose any line I wanted, and I chose an early line. The pertinent part starts at about 7:45 or so, when I'm in the lead.


If you're not on your own or leading out the field then you need to adapt your line to those around you.

Recently I've been thinking about how I corner in a group, to try to explain it to others. I found that I basically do the following:

1. If on the inside I follow the rider in front of me.
2. If in the middle I follow a path parallel to the rider to the OUTSIDE of me.
3. If on the outside I follow the rider in front of me or do a parallel line to the rider to my inside.

By focusing on the riders around me I avoid looking at the curb and therefore cutting in too early or too much. This is a common error with new racers, where they turn in too much, then they correct and swerve out. By following the rider in front you avoid creating new lines and you keep the field in harmony.

Obviously I'm keeping an eye out on curbs and such - if following one of my basic rules above puts me into the curb then that's no good. A few times this year I've found myself skittering on the edge of control as the field collectively went really wide, putting most of the riders on the outside into the curb. The trust that the racers had in each other meant that many of the racers, including the really experienced ones, ended up following riders on lines that were just a few inches too wide.

Where Should I Hold The Bars?

For me this is a huge peeve. All too often I see riders diving into pretty dicey corners on the hoods. For example, in 2010, at the New London Crit, I was vying for position going into the last turn. The course was really interesting, it had a one lane (with curbs) downhill going into a super sharp corner (well it was way more than 90 degrees) into an uphill finish.

The guy in front of me went into the turn on his hoods. His front wheel washed out and he crashed. I was on the drops, I could avoid him, and although I had to brake really hard and shift down a couple gears, I got going again and ended up placing in the race.

The answer, assuming your bike fits properly, is that you should be on the drops. The drops give you the best braking, best steering, and best overall control of the bike. It usually gives you more power and speed but that's for a different post. Right now I'm concerned with finishing the race, and since the corners are the diciest place in a race, you need to stack the odds in your favor that you'll finish the race. If you stay upright then that's good, and being on the drops increases those odds.

A few years ago at the Rent a guy rolled his tire going into Turn One. A very, very, very good racer was next to me, on that rolled tire guy's wheel. He happened to be on the hoods. He ended up crashing and breaking his collarbone. I don't know if he'd have been able to save it if he'd been on the drops but from my video it's apparent that the racer had to give up trying to stay upright because he couldn't slow down nearly enough. He couldn't steer or brake enough to save himself.

I was on the drops. One of the bike's wheel hit my neck, but I was otherwise fine. I fixated on the curb and fortunately managed to avert my eyes (and my path) and didn't it that curb, but I never felt like I was out of control.

You should get into the habit of using the drops when you're in flatter terrain or on downhills. It's a great default position with virtually no drawbacks (on a properly fit bike). You should be able to turn, brake, and shift 100%, and if that's the case then there's little reason to use another position.

There's no hill at the Rent but a great default position on hills is on the hoods. That's a different topic though.

Front Wheel Weight

Not your front wheel's weight! I'm talking about how much weight you have on your front wheel. If you're on the drops you put a bit more weight on the front wheel. For virtually all paved corners this is a good thing. You can almost always recover from a rear wheel skitter or hop, but if your front wheel goes sideways the chances of staying upright are a lot lower.

Therefore it's important to weight the front wheel. It's easier to do that when you're on the drops. I also slide forward on the saddle. This lets me blast into turns with a lot of confidence that the bike will go where I want it to go.

Pushing Away From The Front Wheel

When a rider gets scared in a corner they push away from the front wheel. They tend to sit back, they literally push the bars forward, and they'll even stand up out of the saddle. An additional normal reaction is to do an early apex, i.e. enter the corner early. All of these instinctive reactions make the bike handle worse in corners, making the rider even more scared. It's a bad cycle and you need to avoid falling into it.

It's not just the amateurs either. An unfortunate example of a pro rider like this is Levi Leipheimer. When he raced for Gerolsteiner he made a huge move on a stage in the Tour. He gave away minutes on the descent as he screwed up the corners, doing many of the things I list above (in particular his early apexes, sitting back on the saddle, and unweighting the saddle).

I've fallen victim to this as well, when I first descended down Palomar Mountain near San Diego. It's 35 minutes of descending for me, it's quite steep, and there are a bunch of switchbacks. Some are blind, meaning you can't see the exit point of the hairpin.

However the scariest parts are the fast sweeping turns, especially the ones with just sky beyond the guardrail. The drop offs are pretty big (being scared of heights I avoided stopping and looking down on the way up) and obviously if I made a mistake, or I had a massive mechanical, it would be bad.

Descent on the way to Palomar.

Trucks regularly pass me going about 50 to maybe 65 mph.

I typically hit about 45-50 mph on this road.

Well I found myself pushing the front wheel away from me, pushing the bars away, trying to get away from the guardrail. This unweighted the front wheel such that I had to go really slow in some of the corners and I was still drifting to the outside. I was turning in early, in spite of myself, so it was even worse. I came to a stop once on the wrong side of the road and basically had a miserable time doing the descent. I even got a crick in my neck from being so tense, and I had to actually stop to let my forearms rest because I was braking so hard.

In later years doing Palomar I could descend on the drops comfortably. I had more confidence that I wouldn't go shooting off the cliffs (even if I had a massive mechanical - I thought of how I'd slide to catch the guardrail etc), I had confidence in my cornering ability, so I could weight the front wheel like normal. This let me blast into turns quick enough that I could catch a car halfway down the mountain.

Conclusion

Essentially when you're cornering in a field you want to follow the field. Think "school of fish". Follow the other riders' line, they follow the riders in front of them, and everything works out nicely. If you try to do your own thing then it gets a bit messy.

Remember that cornering well lets you stay in the draft better and gets you going on the next stretch of road closer to a sheltering wheel. This increases the chances of you finishing the race.

(Disclaimer/note: I am putting these posts up in response to some internal requests from individual riders for advice etc. I am not singling out any particular rider or their request, and this advice works for all racers. In fact I'd claim that these pieces offer universal advice for all new mass start bike racers.)

Racing - Oct 26, 2013 CCNS Donut Derby

"Racing" is a bit of a misnomer but I'll call it that since, well, we got a number to pin on our kits. For me it was more of a chance to hang out and say hi and such. The Missus came along for the same reason, to hang out with people that she'd met at other races, and Junior, well, getting him out is always a good thing.

The Donut Derby is a fun race meant to raise money for the CCAP. Basically riders do a 3 mile loop, seven laps. You can eat donuts to reduce your time - a donut is worth 3 minutes. The idea is to balance the donuts and the riding so you ride fast and eat lots. Although I wasn't keen on blowing up my diet I figured I'd have at least one donut, and I knew that it'd be hard so I didn't worry much beyond that.

It didn't help that I was really sore because of a kind of ridiculous reason. Thursday I did a total of 16 seconds of high rpm work. Friday I felt pretty sore and it got worse as the day went on. Saturday morning, the day of the Donut Derby, I could barely walk down the stairs.

Because the Donut Derby is more of a fun thing, probably the closest you can get in a road based event to a 'cross race in terms of attitude, I packed my bike as is, meaning with the regular clinchers, no changes to anything.

Since I happened to gather my winter gear for a future post on, well, winter wear, my gear bag was totally stocked.

Crucially I left the gearing intact - 53/44 up front and an 11-23 in the back. I vaguely remembered some talk about a short steep hill, and I pictured a 100m hill at 18%. Easy peasy.

We headed out to the race, the Missus, Junior, and myself. I did make a tactical decision concerning breakfast. Since we'd be heading out around breakfast time I decided to skip breakfast. This would give me more "donut capacity" and give me an excuse to eat more than one. I had half a cup of coffee and then we headed out.

We arrived and it was bitterly cold, 31 degrees F by the car thermometer. In my winter gear photoshoot I did the tights last - apparently I left them sitting next to the gear bag because they weren't in it. I also never located my winter jacket (it's in the Expedition somewhere, in our storage bay) so I didn't have that either.

I looked at my long sleeve jersey - suddenly it seemed much lighter weight than I remembered. Luckily I had two base layers and all my other stuff.

I kitted up - base layer (wicking), base layer (insulating), LS jersey, thermal vest, and wind vest. Bib knickers. Booties. Winter gloves.

I rolled out and it didn't seem bad. I was glad I had knickers, the tights would have been too warm.

Due to some parking logistics I was back at the car, a mile away from the start, at 10:02 AM. The race was supposed to start at 10.

I rode pretty hard to the start and found that I hadn't missed the start.

When I got to the start.

Aidan, leader of CCNS and the driving force behind CCAP, was making some final announcements. Later I learned I missed something about "straws", but more on that later.

We started off and I though, wow, if road races started like this I'd do a lot more of them. We casually pedaled up the minor grade leading away from the start/finish area. I admit I was surprised at how slowly we started off but within a few hundred yards the reason hit me pretty hard - this sucker got steep!

After the ride I told the Missus that it was a really hard hill, maybe a third of a mile long, and it just seemed to go on forever.

At any rate I shifting into a mid-range gear and realized that, okay, I need to shift down. I moved the lever.

Nothing happened.

I looked down.

My "mid-range" gear was my bottom gear, a 44x23. A bit of worry crossed my mind when I remembered that the cassette on my training wheel was just an 11-23, not an 11-25.

I was pushing a chainring bigger than the big ring on my mountain bike.

Ugh.

Everyone quickly dropped me, including a rider that stopped to walk, remounted, and passed me while giving me encouragement.

We dropped down a descent but I couldn't enjoy it much because we got stuck behind a car. I didn't want to pass it so I waited until it went straight and we all went left.

(I should point out that when I looked at my stats later I was fastest when "held up" behind the car, at 45+ mph. Apparently sitting in its slipstream made things seem slow.)

I got back to the start/finish area and felt relieved that it wasn't all packed up and gone. I'd gone so slowly that I half expected to see leaves blowing across the road and not much more.

First lap, the donut stop on the right.

The Missus with Junior in his Carpe Diem Racing blanket.

The immense effort on the hill, combined with my mini time trial to the start, had warmed me up nicely. I didn't feel like giving some of that away by stopping to eat a donut so I rode through the feed zone, waving hi to the Missus and a confused Junior (he puzzles when he sees a lot of cyclists and one of them says hi back to him).

I hit the hill and realized that, wow, this thing was steep.

The dirt part of the hill, complete with skeletal cheering person.

A brave soul or two made the trek partway up the hill to cheer on their riders. They cheered on the others as well, like me.

I was going so slow they could have read the chainring size stamped on the side of the chainring, that's how slow I was moving.

I got pretty hot making this all out effort, trying not to fall over, and I decided that I should get rid of the thermal vest. My arms were fine but my torso started getting hot.

On the next lap I pulled in for a pit stop, opposite the donuts, where the Missus stood with Junior.

The Missus, at the end of lap two, during my pit stop.

After I ditched the vest I watched a couple groups lap me and then I set off again. I struggled mightily up the hill as rider after ride rode by me like I was standing still.

Well, since I was doing all I could not to fall over I wasn't going much faster than "standing still" so that makes sense.

As I went over the top a couple riders went by, including Devil Gear's Jeff W. He's given me help in the past so I decided that I'd try and give him a hand here. After I recovered a touch I pulled through and upped the pace.

Jeff W just before I pulled through.

With no cars in the way, with a couple practice laps, we flew down the descent. He backed off a touch but was immediately back on as the road straightened out. Although he eased as we hit the hard left he went blowing by shortly after. I didn't see him again until he rode by me again.

The Missus moved to the sunny bridge for lap 3.

Slowly I made my way back to the start/finish. The Missus had moved into the sun, and combined with the temps now in the 40s things felt much warmer.

I rolled up to the hill and started my death crawl up the thing.

One of the CCNS guys, Hunter, was taking pictures. I told him I ought to win the Stupid Gear award because I had such a stupid high gear. I mean, okay, Thierry Claveyrolat won the polka dot jersey in the Tour one year pushing something insane like a 46T inner ring, but I'm not Claveyrolat, not by a long shot.

The fact that Hunter and I had this conversation while I rode all of about 20 feet shows just how slowly I was going up the hill. When I looked at Strava my low speed on the hill was in the 2.x mph range.

Hunter and I talk.

I descended alone this time, not going quite as fast. I eased to see if two guys behind me would catch me before the descent really got going but no deal so I went on my own. Just before the last little plunge they blew by me.

Amos blows by me, another in tow.

Although I followed them they rode away from me after the hard left.

No Missus on the next lap - she was changing Junior. Same deal with the hill, death crawl. Over the top a rider in Daisy Dukes caught me and we rode the rest of the lap together.

Daisy Duke and myself roll to the finish.

I had finished five laps of seven at that point and since the Missus was still missing I figured I'd do one more lap. No donuts or anything, I just started going again.

As I started up the hill I got that familiar weak, dizzy, cold sweat feeling - I was bonking. Doing all that work, no breakfast, in the chilly morning... I turned around and rolled back down the hill.

Good time for a donut.

I picked out one, drizzled in caramel and chocolate. A volunteer was kindly sticking a straw in it, I guess to let us pick up donuts without getting dirty. I told her that I didn't need the straw and took the donut.

The Missus showed up with Junior, and although he was in good cheer we really had to leave to get home. As we were getting ready to go one of the Biker's Edge guys, Rob C, showed me a fist full of straws.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" he said as he rolled by.

Que?

Ends up that to get your 3 minutes off per donut you give the straw to the official and they tick off how many 3 minute increments you get credited to your time. So by being polite and saving the volunteer a straw I missed the chance to take 3 minutes off my time.

Aw shucks.

We packed up the car. I struggled so much to do the most simple tasks that the Missus, concerned with my sore legs, offered to drive. I gladly took her up on that offer as even sitting down hurt my legs a lot.

After we got home we had a bunch of things we had to get done. Before we got started I looked at Strava and saw that the "third of a mile hill" was actually closer to 0.7 miles. Not all of it was 2 mph steep but, still, that sort of explained why I felt to absolutely destroyed when I stopped.

I'll have to make it back next year. I'll skip breakfast again but I'll be eating donuts from the beginning. I'll collect straws or whatever they use as markers. I'll put on some lower gear and use some wider tires (more on the tires later). And maybe I'll even get to do the full seven laps.

We'll see.

Racing - 2013 CCNS Kermis, Cat 3s

A true week of racing - Sunday, Tuesday, then Friday. If I could do this all the time I would - maybe a Thursday race, to space things out properly before the weekend. Whatever, the fact is that I got to line up for my third race this week.

I got here as early as possible and helped with registration. When the Masters started I got to leave and prep for my own race. My one hour prep went something like this:

5:05 PM I leave registration and find the Missus. She asks if I've eaten. I haven't. She asks what I want. I want to support the vendors so I ask for a hotdog or something. She gets a steak sandwich - I inhale 3/4 of it before she reminds me that I'll be racing in what would be 45 minutes now.

5:15 I help with a victim with light road rash, a Junior that has been in the scene for much longer than you'd think. I brought my first aid supplies to the race so I could help him out with Tegaderm. The cheap stuff I forgot about, and I was out of the First Aid spray.

5:30 My socializing time quickly running out, I started getting my bike ready, my spare bike ready, pinned my number, kitted up, and got out there with less than 2 laps of the Masters race left. I took pictures of the break and chase finishing then put down the camera to go warm up (and missed the field sprint). Fortunately for me we got to do one lap of the course so that was my warm up.

FIVE Expo riders.

We lined up with a total of six Expo riders. Stan would be our default leader, the break guy. SOC and myself were sort of random guys, and Mark, Ted, and Joel would pitch in when they could. Joel was coming off of a non-racing period so he wasn't expecting much. We were all eager to support Stan who's proven to us over and over that he can make the break.

First time around the 180.

We should be 15 feet to the left.

On the first lap we almost went off the course through the cones to the right. A bit of grumbling and we were all back on track. Late apexes are great and all but it's important to turn in early enough for a 180 that dumps out to a narrow road.

Joel responds.

When the first attack went I was near the front but feeling a bit crispy from the effort out of the 180. I started wondering if one of us should go when Joel went rocketing by. We wouldn't link up with the eventual three man group until the 180.

Vicki.

On Tuesday the Central Wheel women made it a point to show up and race. Like me a few of them came off at some point but they gamely got back in and gritted it out. One rider I didn't see at the back was Vicki, a former Expo rider. We're all still supportive of her and I was pleasantly surprised to see her in the midst of the field, totally holding her own. As I've only really seen her in the B races on Tuesdays it was a huge step to be active in a Cat 3 race.

Rider slides his rear tire out.

The first few times around the 180 the corner caught out the unaware, the ones pushing the limits, and the ones simply not used to turning so hard. At least two riders slid their rear tire out, one actually unclipping mid-turn. To his credit he was clipped in and riding ahead of me long before I exited that same corner.

The break opposite us.

The 180 gave us a good point of reference as far as the break went. We could see them riding the opposite direction as we approached the 180.

I usually tend to go the outside line in turns, preferring to maintain speed over doing more bike handling type stuff inside. However the 180 was tight enough that everyone ended up a bit outside at the exit and I never got to fully utilize the outside line.

Therefore I decided that if I remembered I'd try to go inside one of these laps, to see how that went.

Ted raises his hand.

I'm actually really disappointed that you can't see the smoke around his chainstay. I'm pretty sure that his tire was rubbing and it was rubbing hard enough that it started to smoke.

Inside line!

Finally, with a couple laps to go, I managed to go inside. It was much better overall. I could turn as hard as I wanted to turn, to the point where I could feel the front tire start to lose traction, the feel of pushing the rubber across the asphalt. With my forward oriented position I could plant the front tire however I wanted. The short chainstays kept the rear planted, and I could accelerate fine out of the turn.

 I decided that this would be my approach for the finale.

Moving up the inside.

Approaching the 180 for the last time I debated going on my own. A CF Racing Junior decided for me as he made the move first. I jumped on his wheel and we both looked around, waiting for the counter-swarm. Only one other rider came by, a Bethel Cycle rider (I think a Junior as well). The two went wide, holding more of an outside line.

I went inside.

Inside line, hard.

 I didn't accelerate too hard so I could get back on their wheel. I'd contemplated going from the 180, trying to go for the line, but it's over a mile and not very realistic. Instead I hoped to back-slot into the front of the field and fight it out from there.

I made one elemental error, one that decided my race for me.

The head of the field comes up the right side.

The final straight started out with a left side crosswind, turning into a pure headwind. I had to be on the right side going into the final straight. My mistake was staying left on the course at two turns to go. Instead of having the field pass me on the left they passed me on the right. This put me in the wind and therefore I was out of the sprint long before it ever started.

It didn't keep me from trying to get to the right but the guy to my right fought hard to stay on the wheel. I fought honorably, with no contact, but the fight was doomed from the beginning. Ultimately I ended up sheltering him from the wind for a couple hundred meters, giving him a lead out. I didn't have the chance to turn around or even look down so I don't know if I could have back-slotted in a few spots back. It's too late now but this is one of those things I'll file away for the next time I'll need it.

To my happy surprise SOC rocketed by the right.

While I berated myself for getting into a tactically untenable position, SOC absolutely blasted by on the right. Riding super low he jumped where he normally does on Tuesday Nights. He knew the sprint - he's won the A Race on one Tuesday - so he treated the sprint like he did on a Tuesday. Although two guys fought hard he beat them and the rest of the field to take the sprint for 7th.

When I rode up to SOC he had a big grin on his face. Last Sunday he was just behind me going into the M35+ sprint but he sat up because "all the places were up the road". He ended up 44th; I nabbed 12th. We talked about it and the takeaway was that if the field is doing a sprint you might as well sprint. It's good race practice, it's fun, you can test tactics, and you can see how you do against the others. Well tonight he did great - he went at the perfect time for his strengths, he moved up based on his experience in the this and last year's race, and he executed flawlessly. If and when it comes down to a field sprint he'll have this experience to draw from when he approaches said sprint.

Stan, it ended up, took 5th in the break. A rider went solo, two guys were close for second and third, and the rest of the break finished just behind.

I have no idea how I finished except it was "at the back".

With the light falling during the P123 race I had to leave, unable to partake in the various festivities along the finishing straight. A fun race for sure, and one I plan on doing next year.

Just better.

How To - Cornering, Looking Habits (Pictures)

I often address questions about cornering, whether the rider asks me directly or someone pleas for help on the intraweb. One of the most important things in cornering is to look ahead in the turn. If you keep looking directly in front of you then you won't be able to see what's coming up. It's sort of like the first person view in a driving game - you can't look around corners. It's also the reason I prefer to view helmet cam footage versus bar cam footage. With a bar cam you can't tell what the rider is looking at, where their head is pointed.

Every ride I do from the house and every drive home in the car, I have the privilege of taking a very interesting right turn. It's an acute turn, more than 90 degrees, almost a 180. What makes it interesting is that it's apparent that the designers initially pictured it as a T intersection with a severely bent stem on the T.

However, instead of making it a real square T they widened the entry side (from my "going home" direction). This resulted in a multi-radius turn and severely encourages an early turn in. I'm guessing they made it so that any 18-wheelers would be able to clear the turn without destroying the curb or maybe they adjusted the curb after it got destroyed by the first moving truck that came into the complex.  Whatever the reason the extra room on the right side of the turn makes this a weird turn. The first part is a true 90 degree turn, but then the road immediately swerves right in a very wide radius 70 or 80 degree turn.

In the car it's pretty apparent it's quite sharp, and in fact for a while I was going really wide at the exit of the turn. I mean I live here and I try to be very aware as I drive so to screw up the turn... I wasn't happy with myself.

Approaching the right turn.

As you can see it's a pretty sharp right. The road doubles back on itself to create a 180 type turn. It's not so apparent in the picture but it's quite a steep down hill - on the bike, coasting, it's easy to hit 35 mph. In the car I have to brake to keep the speed under 35 and I typically come down the hill at about 30 mph.

Dash cam has limited sight lines.

Here you can see the problem with the dash cam's aim (and, to a certain extent, a bar cam's). Even though you're setting up for a really hard right turn you can't see it in the image.

About 45 degrees into the turn.

Mid-turn there's very little to see. The landscape just slides sideways across the screen as I turn the car hard to the right.

Turn out.

I'm about to get to a speed limit sign but you can't tell from the dash cam.

At the exit of the turn, or the "turn out" point, I'm parallel with the curb and on the right shoulder. Most residents here (there are probably 60-70 families who live down this road) end up virtually kissing the left curb before they move over to the right. It's a bit annoying to someone like me who drives the other way when I leave the house. For most people it's not a big deal but for us we live at the point where most people are just getting back to the right side of the road.

Note the green thing on the right. It's some kind of utility box.

This is after the puddle from the earlier picture.

I included the last picture to show the green utility box. It's a good point of reference.

Now let's take the same turn from the point of view of me, the rider, while noting where I'm looking, where my head is pointing. Okay, granted, my helmet cam (ContourHD 1080p) is of better quality than my dashcam (DroidX phone, 1080p, running Daily Roads), but still you'll see the differences.

Approaching the turn.

So far things look the same. It's a sharp right turn, curbed so a hard border, downhill, coasting at about 30-35 mph. My hands are on the drops, I'm slightly on the brakes, and I've shifted into an appropriate gear for rolling out of the turn.

First look right.

My head turns most of the way but my eyes are actually looking further right. I'm looking through the trees for any movement - cars typically drive 35 mph or faster and if they do I'll end up at the intersection as the same time as them. Since most drivers here drive in the center of the road it's not good for me if I meet a center-of-the-road driver at the intersection.

Look forward again.

I look forward again. I need to get my bearings down - it's not like I'm going to go through the whole turn looking ahead.

In this shot you can sort of imagine the line. Better yet let me use my incredible Photoshop skillz and draw some lines.

Solid line is the late apex.

Dash line is the early apex.

(Solid line is supposed to follow the curb but it's hard drawing those lines with a touchpad so it veers up  a bit, even though it's not supposed to do so.)

Most people tend to do the early apex. It's not just in bike racing, it's in life. Watch someone rushing to beat a light or take a turn in front of oncoming traffic. They veer to the side as if getting to the curb somehow helps gives them help going around the corner.

When people get scared or unsure they turn in early. I do, when I'm scared or unsure, because the panic instinct is very hard to overcome. The key is to not be scared of cornering, to understand cornering lines, and to apply your knowledge when you corner.

(As a side note most fast descenders are also extremely good corner-ers. They descend fast because they know how to take corners. Since both cornering and descending generally don't take fitness it would be poor strategy to ignore the benefits of proper cornering. This is where a less fit rider can make up a lot of ground. It's also where a lot of fit-but-unskilled racers lose tons of ground.)

It took me a few tries to figure this turn out. Since I live here I got to try the corner every time I drive or ride home, and after carelessly ignoring the tricky corner I finally spent a minute of energy thinking about it. It's nothing too tricky (car racers will probably be shaking their heads at me) - it requires an especially late apex with a hard turn The turn out ends up really early - at about the first tree or so, maybe the second tree.

Most people who drive here take the dashed line. It causes them to veer way to the outside, and if I'm riding from the house (i.e. towards them) they have to slam on the brakes and almost come to a stop so they can get to the proper side of the road. It makes for interesting situations when you consider that many people leaving coming out from the right will stop in the middle of the road, about where the second-last dash sits.

Using the correct line I can enter the corner at a higher speed than a "stay-on-the-right-side" early apex--er and still stay on the right side.

Going through the turn.

My bike is pointing towards about the 11 o'clock direction, not straight ahead.

At some point I'll do a clip of this but in the above shot I'm looking towards the turn out point, where the trees are to the right. My head is pointed to the speed limit sign but my eyes are looking further right. My bike is pointing to the left a bit, leaned way over, turning very hard. It's pointing to about the 11 o'clock direction, so a bit to the left of straight up.

Wide radius part of the turn.

I'm at the wide radius part of the turn. My bike is starting to get closer to the curb, I'm still looking forward at or to the right of the trees. My eyes are being pulled forward like there was a string tied to them, a string pulled by someone just disappearing from view up the road.

Now my bike is almost in line with my head.

No puddles because this cam footage is from a different day than the dash cam stuff.

I'm about to even out with the curb - I'll be next to it as the bare patch in the grass ends and the curb straightens out.

With the early apex I'm parallel to the curb before the curve ends. It's safer for me, safer for oncoming traffic. In a group ride this is excellent because I'm staying out of traffic's way. In a race it's even better -  if you have a mishap mid-turn you have a lot of space to work with, but more importantly you can really accentuate the accordion effect (if you're at the front) or save a lot of energy (if you're tailgunning at the back).

Waitaminute. You forgot one thing, you say to me. Where's that green utility box, the one that signaled the turn out point from the dash cam?

Well if you look past the speed limit sign, between it and the first tree truck, you'll see it way down the road. It's about twice the distance as to the speed limit sign.

With the helmet cam it's clear what line I took and where I was looking. With a bar cam (or a dash cam) it would be much harder. I basically take the same line in both the car and the bike. The dash cam is mounted just to the left of center in the car so it's about 3 feet further left than my helmet cam, but it's clear that the dash cam simply cannot illustrate how I took the turn.

Remember that cornering lines are habits. If you got yourself into the normal habit of turning in early you need to break that habit. You shouldn't practice cornering only on the bike. You should practice it whenever you're taking a turn with a wheeled vehicle, whether it's a car, a shopping cart, or a baby stroller. Break that early apex habit and improve your bike racing.

Helmet Cam - 2012 CCNS Kermis, Aug 24

This year I got to do a few new races, at least to me. I count any course I haven't done more than once or twice to be new to me. It's different from doing the races at New Britain, for example, where I have some fond memories of doing the course up to eight days a year for the last 30 years.

Relative to a once-or-twice race is refreshing to say the least. It's fun to see a new course, a new tactical map, a new corner or four.

One event, the White Plains Crit, was a race I'd never done before, and for two pretty good reasons - it was the National Championships the first time it happened and the second time it happened it was the Empire State Games aka the NY Crit Championships.

Another one was the CCNS Kermis. The host team and promoters, CCNS, took a seemingly lighthearted approach to the whole race. On race day though it was a lot more serious than I expected - big signs marking the course, light trailers for the last race, vendor tents, and the fun atmosphere I expected. The race itself didn't necessarily go well for me but it was absolutely the best course I've raced for eons.

Actually I can't think of a more fun course.

Okay, I can think of courses that suit me better (Bethel anyone?), ones that were more difficult technically (a Tarrytown NY crit comes to mind as well as a one year Norwich CT crit), and which have more elevation changes or more turns.

In terms of a real fun course though this one takes the cake. The only thing is that it's flat so the climber-types won't like it. Otherwise it gives opportunities to the rouleurs (time trial types) and sprinters both, punishes poor cornering and poor fitness, and makes for an honest finishing order.

The second CCNS Kermis is set to take place on August 23, 2013. Until then you can use this clip to preview the course if you missed it last year. If you did it then you know what I'm talking about - let this hold you over until the kermis.

Enjoy.

Helmet Cam - 2012 NE Crit Championships M40+

Back on August 18, 2012 I did the New England Crit Championships, promoted by the Northeast Masters Cycling Association (NEMCA). I raved about the race back then, the fluent riding, the deliberate tactics, and, for me, a successful race in that I lasted more than 5 minutes.

Of course I wanted to do a clip of the race. It would illustrate some smooth and fluent riding, a couple tactical moves, and, yes, I actually finished the race. A 5 minute "then I got shelled" clip isn't any fun for me or for you.

On the other hand it's taken a while to get the whole business of producing clips straightened out, what with the new iMovie unable to import my clips such that they exist in iMovie, the time required to produce a clip, and, finally, our internet connection getting hosed in the wind storm a little while ago. I worked on the clips once I figured out an iMovie workaround (use an older version) and I have a few clips in near-completion status.

The NE M40+ race took me a while to produce, following my now-somewhat standard way of producing these clips. Unusually I had three major revisions requiring three different exports out of iMovie, each one a time consuming process. With the clip basically done I put it aside to simmer - this gets me away from the clip for a bit so I can go back and review it with a fresh mind. I focused on doing more stuff for the Bethel Spring Series, doing stuff around the house, and of course the internet connection thing.

I wasn't impressed with the clip when I finally reviewed my almost-done rough draft. It took two more iterations before I felt it "okay", making it five versions in total. Then the upload took all night but hey, that's life. Here's the clip.

Enjoy.

Helmet Cam - Sept 16, 2012 White Plains Criterium, Cat 3-4

In September I had the privilege of helping out at the White Plains Criterium. I also got to race it, the Cat 3-4 race. It's a great course, great venue, and the promoter is hoping it returns in 2013, hopefully in mid-May. The course really accentuates a racer's cornering skills, much more so than a Bethel for example. My race ended up a lesson on cornering which gets reflected in the clip I made from it. This clip has much more of an instructional feel to it, a little less of the "psyched to race" mood-only feel of most of my other clips. Enjoy.

Helmet Cam - July 24, 2012 @TuesdayTheRent

July 24, 2012 I did one of many Tuesday Night races at The Rent. It seems both forever ago and like yesterday at the same time. I haven't been able to edit clips due to some iMovie problems. Well, I finally got my iMovie issues solved by using the old MacBook - apparently the newer OS, the newest updates, the prevent me from editing stuff in iMovie. Specifically the updated iMovie won't import any of my helmet cam clips. This is a problem because then I have nothing to edit. The outdated iMovie works fine.

Anyway, with a season of clips in the "import movie" queue I got crackin' on a couple clips. Here's the first one, from that July just half a year ago.

Enjoy.

Racing - 2012 White Plains Crit, Cat 3-4

This is a long post but it dates back to the spring of this year. At the time a guy Joe asked me about getting some help for a race he wanted to hold. Thinking an industrial park race I told him sure. Then he laid out his idea - revive a twice used course in White Plains, NY.

Not a big deal, right?

Well, the first time they raced there it was the National Criterium Championships and a "newbie" (technically, because he got some special permission to race as a Cat 4) named John Tomac won the national title. To be fair he was the top downhiller of the time and ended up wearing a pro road jersey for a short time, but still, to have a new racer win Nationals was quite the thing.

The second time they held a race there it was the New York state championships. A friend Abdul won that one.

Well, the talk got places and suddenly we had a race - the White Plains Crit.

Incredibly this was Joe's first ever race promotion gig and it basically went off without a hitch. I helped with registration and the finish line camera, and I brought my bike and kit along hoping I'd get to race. We had the normal interesting adventures but that's what makes life, well, interesting.

It started with an earlier realization that we'd need a better finish line camera. I decided to get a fancy shmancy 1080 60p full HD camcorder, manual shutter speed control, the works. It worked great in some low light tests (I recorded Junior in his bouncy saucer) so I headed over to David's on Saturday confident that we had very little to handle. We'd hook it up to the existing tripod, hook up a USB cable, and read the video.

Saturday

At David's I proudly handed over the new camcorder. He looked at it, looked at the tripod.

"Where's the rest of it?"
"Rest of what?"
"The tripod."
"Um, that's all I have."
"There's a piece that fits onto the tripod. It's not here. It's what the camera attaches to."

I thought about it for a moment.

"Wait, there's no way to attach the camera?"
"Not like this."

Jeepers.

Well David has a virtual hardware store in his garage so we cobbled together a new mount (and I told myself a zillion times to remove the mount off the old incredibly good but too slow and too low resolution camcorder).

We hooked up a cable and tried to watch Junior bouncing in his saucer thing.

File format not recognized.

We started Googling stuff in parallel.

"What's the file extension in Windows?"
"M2TS"
"It says here it's Blu-Ray."

Ohhhhh. 1080 @ 60p is BluRay. And apparently Quicktime and such don't like BluRay.

We asked David's son about this because he's young and technologically connected. It's like childproof bottle tops - you need to ask a kid to open it for you.

"Oh, just use blah blah blah."

And it worked. 4 hours or so after I arrived.

Race Day

With an early 4:15 wakeup call I hit the sack hard.

Sunday we quickly got ready. David's wife had left us food, left me a towel for a shower, and in about 30 minutes we were ready to go.

"Before we get on the highway I need to get gas."
"Okay, I'll just follow you."

I followed his car and trailer. We drove up to a gas station. A dark gas station. It was closed.

I could see him hesitate but then he turned onto the highway. The show must go on, and if need by I had 5 gallons of gas for the generators (25 hours worth for each generator so plenty for the 6 hours we needed power).

We got to White Plains in good order although I noticed him driving a bit erratically, speeding up and slowing down at odd times. I figured it was a trailer thing and I kind of blanked on it.

We got to the venue, he got some directions, ran over to the van, hollered to follow him, jumped in his car, and got going.

He promptly ran a red light, with a cop right next to me (and therefore just behind him). I saw him run another light too.

I finally caught up to him, the car kind of nosed up against the curb. Apparently that's where the start/finish would go. I was about to lay into him about running red lights and such when he came over.

"I just lost the brakes in my car."
"What?!"
"I have no brakes. I have to use the e-brake to stop."
"Is that why you ran those red lights?"

He almost drove into the doors of the Macy's on the corner but managed to avoid setting off their alarm. We dumped all the finish line camera stuff there - I had to drive 3 blocks to the registration area, in a KeyBank branch. They sponsored the race and gave us indoor registration, bathrooms, seats, power, everything we needed to get stuff going.

A bit frantic by now we set up registration, starting just about 30 minutes before the first race started. I carefully put two grate covers down over the sewer grate under the van door - it wouldn't do to drop something important like keys or a phone or something in the rush to unpack the van. It took us about 5 agonizing minutes to get the absolute minimum set up but then we started rolling hard. Delaney, my help for the day, knew this stuff from the Bethel Spring Series so she jumped right in.

I honestly thought we'd run late with the first race but no, it went off on time. Things started getting more normal - I even started thinking about getting my bike out of the van and doing a race.

So I did.

Kitted up and on my bike I rolled over to the finish just before the Women finished. This gave me a chance to review the procedures for getting the finish shots, they worked fine, and lined up confident in the finish line camera set up. Delaney had a handle on registration; my responsibilities were being handled well.

In the race I noticed a few things.

First, it's a fast course. Two of its turns have a downhill lead in, two have flat lead ins. This works because there are both an uphill and a downhill on two straights. With just half a mile lap things went by very, very quickly.

In fact, on the first lap, I was close to a full straight behind the front of the race.

I just exited Turn 1 on Lap 1. The front runners are about to apex Turn 2.

Second, because it's a 3-4 race, I saw a wide variety of cornering skills. Some riders were great, including a former Cat 1 who managed to enthrall me at the races - he was my default favorite when I did races in New York and New Jersey.

Other riders weren't quite so good. A huge factor was cornering on the hoods. I could see those riders having problems with the front end bouncing around. They had to slow for the third turn, a fast downhill, because they probably couldn't hang onto their bars. On the drops I had to really hold onto the bars - I can't imagine doing that corner on the hoods.

Poor basics, like cornering on the hoods, multiply their effect as you go up the food chain. Riders on the hoods turned in early, possibly because they felt they didn't have quite the control they wanted (and could have had if they were on the drops). Early apexes are typical for riders who don't feel secure cornering; it's something easily worked on. These early apexers would leave the wheel they were on to cut the corner, then (usually) braking hard to avoid t-boning the same wheel they just left.

With a poor start position I tried to follow wheels, like I'm supposed to, but so many riders used different cornering lines that I couldn't find a good wheel to follow.

Although most of these riders managed to (poorly) corner themselves right off the back, the really strong ones managed to stay in the race until the end. Those still in the race really wreaked havoc in the group, opening gaps through virtually every corner.

It got to the point where even I said something to a couple people. I usually ride a bit harder after such comments and today was no exception. I felt pretty taxed by the course, my lack of fitness, my weight, but nonetheless I made some physical digs after my verbal ones.

I have to admit it was a lot of fun diving into the downhill corners and taking advantage of the huge gaps everyone left. It took a few laps for guys to get the hang of the course, and since I was at the back I had to follow other riders' lines and so I had to wait for the others to get the hang of the course.

I paid on the uphills. At first I thought I was going okay but a quick sanity peek down at the SRM told me some bad news - I was pushing close to 700 watts on the start/finish hill and my heart rate was climbing over 166.

This was about three laps into the race.

I tried to ease earlier before the fast corners, stay steady on the two slight uphills, and tried not to worry too much about gaps ahead of me.

The latter almost got me at the beginning of the race. I realized at some point that the guys in front of me were cornering poorly and then not accelerating hard. I was trusting them to close the gaps they left but they didn't, and eventually I went into the wind to get back in the field.

Gap riders left. I eventually closed this one myself.

This is shortly after Turn 3; I tried using the hoods on this hill but it was a bit bumpy.

Someone told me after the race that they were yelling at me that the field was splitting. I realized a lap or two after the above picture that, woah, I'm the last guy in the field. Everyone else behind me had sat up or gotten pulled.

Eventually I got into my groove. I guess I warmed up a bit - my last ride was a week ago, and that weekend's a story in itself (I'll write posts out of order for that one). Combined with some left ankle injuries (that has to do with the weekend too), I had few miles and few workouts recently.

The other thing is that once the worst cornerers were gone the field started cornering a bit better. I felt better about riding close to others and in fact this was the closest I'd ridden to others in a while.

A close corner later in the race. Note riders on hoods.

At some point, with all the guys on the hoods, the fast and tight corners, the never ending suffering (I waited as long as I could before looking up at the lap cards and it said 23 laps to go), I eased mentally.

I closed this gap - I'm on the hoods right now, soft pedaling.

Then I changed my mind.

3 laps to go.

I managed to get into the single digit lap cards without getting shelled but I felt no excitement, no adrenaline rush. I was waiting for the Sprinter's Renaissance that Indurain described, but, to put it not-so-succinctly, there wasn't nothin' there.

I sat up again, knowing that I had nothing for the sprint and not wanting to try and fake it and get myself in trouble. Those of you less fit than the rest know what it looks like to be off the back at a lap to go. In case you don't know just look below.

Coming up on the bell lap. Those dots in the center is the field.

I felt a need to keep going and the crowd responded with, as Joe put it, the loudest cheer of the race. I finished off the race with a slow bike throw then turned around and went to the trailer to check the finish line camera stuff.

The rest of the day went by like a blur. I worked the camera for the M40+ and the P123 race. Delaney handled registration for the M40s and the sporadic times we needed access during the P123s. As the day wound down we started packing everything into the van, then headed over to the finish area to get the rest of the stuff.

David's car was on a flatbed, the trailer moved into a legal spot. The fatigue started to hit about then, but the day wasn't quite done.

It had been a great race. Great venue. Great cooperation with the city. For a first time promotion, by a first time promoter, I was absolutely shocked at how well the race went. Riders gushed over the ambiance - it's like a Somerville or Nutley. It's faster than either, more exciting, and it's a race I'd love to do again.

With that in mind we finally left. I pulled up to a light and I could see the white Walk sign. I had a bit of time to day dream. I looked down next to the van and saw bare wood.

A brand new grate cover,

About 2'x3'.

Oh.

See, Joe had asked me about grate covers before the race, if they needed finishing, stuff like that. I told him that the grate covers should be 2'x3', not too thick, and that they didn't need finishing. I knew that because we still have four or five grate covers from 1993, the first Bethel Spring Series (or the Bethel Training Series as we called it back then). I pointed out that they're in remarkable shape considering they sit out in rain, snow, sun, they have no finish, and they're going on 20 years old. In fact I'd just measured them to make more of them - they're the best thickness, best shape, and if all the grate covers were the same size they'd be easier to move around.

The new grate cover also reminded me... I left two of those precious 1993 grate covers on the sewer by the bank, to keep me from dropping my keys down there. I debated just leaving them there but I couldn't bear to lose that history. I somehow managed to get back to the bank, left the van idling in the lane (I felt like I was one of those annoying unmarked delivery trucks in NYC), grabbed the grate covers from under a new Acura, and stuck them in the van.

This made me feel much better.

I started the long drive home, thoughts running through my head. How to get registration even quicker. Better camera stuff. More consolidated equipment. Less steps.

There's something about constantly striving to improve, to maximize one's effectiveness. It drives a person to do better. It drives new ideas, new procedures, new ventures. It pushes things forward. It causes change.

And in this case change is good.

See you at the races.

Parting shot.