Racing - 2014 Tour de Kirche

I had a whole slew of stuff happening before the Cat 3-4 race last Sunday so racing wasn't so much on my mind. Although there was a lot of stuff the main things that affected my racing were things like:

 - about 25 minutes of riding, in two sessions, on Saturday, due to interruptions while on the trainer. I prefer an hour of riding the day before a race.

 - 4 hours of working on the course on Saturday, using a power broom (Echo SRM with a broom attachment) as a regular broom, i.e. sweeping motions, as well as pushing a leaf blower around. This resulted in incredible upper body soreness/fatigue.

 - 2 hours of working on the course on Sunday, same deal as Saturday.

 - Bringing clothing worthy of the 55 degree Saturday to the 34 (high) degree Sunday race.

 - Not having enough time to go get food so eating two egg sandwiches and one cup of coffee on Sunday; the first egg sandwich at around 6:00 AM, the second, with the coffee, at about 10 AM or so.

By the time 1 PM started approaching I was really sore, close to bonking, chilled to the bone, and I wasn't ready to race. Earlier in the day I had noticed earlier that my vest still had my last week's number on it, the same number that I happened to be this week. Being a vest it wasn't gross or anything. I decided to leave last week's number on it, saving me a minute or two of precious time.

I also took the time at some point in the earlier morning to put the wheels on the bike. I decided on the Stinger 6s for this week, with the wind blowing so hard the marker stakes were bending in the wind. The Stinger 7/9 set, which I've used so far, seemed too sail-like for the day's wind conditions. I pumped them up right after putting them on the bike, saving me a minute or two of time before my race.

I saw that the front brake rubbed virtually the whole revolution of the wheel and made a note to myself to unclamp the brake cable a touch later. At that moment I had other things I had to do so I left it for when I got ready to race.

Finally I'd left the SRM head charging at registration. The rest of my stuff sat in the Expedition. By the time I got back to the trailer it was 12:58 or so, and I still had to get dressed in time for the 1:00 start.

I was late enough that my teammate for the day, Joel, had already decided that I couldn't possibly be racing and had volunteered his legs for a friendly rival team.

I decided with the temperature in the 32 degree range with very gusty wind that I'd skip the knickers and go for the warm tights. I'd also use a base layer, then a rain jacket (as an all-direction wind jacket), then a LS jersey for the team appearance bit. The wind vest with my number would be on top, mainly as a vehicle for the number, not so much for the wind.

I only found one head thing so that went on my head, no neck thing, and I struggled to get my tights on, my shoes on, and even my helmet on.

I didn't know where my bottle was, saw a Coke bottle in the center console (unopened, a reserve bottle for the drive home), and slipped it into the bottle cage upside down.

I rolled up to the line, slipped my gloves on, and the race started.

I realized a few things right away.

First because I hadn't spent the time adjusting my tights I felt like I was wearing a low hanging diaper - the tights were way too low.

Second, my helmet cam wasn't on.

Third, my right shoe buckle seemed to be letting go. The instep strap is a bit bent and it loses grip on the teeth that hold it in place. On the trainer I've had times where the strap just totally let go, my foot flying out of the shoe. With the bootie in place I figured it wouldn't happen but it slipped. I made a note that I had to put tape on this for next week.

Fourth, I realized there was no way I could use the Coke bottle in a race. Plus it would explode when I opened it, bouncing around in the cage. The plastic bottles fit better upside down because the neck of the bottle serves as a handle to stick through the bottom of the cage. I learned this trick watching a Rabobank pro (Marc Wauters) at the Gimbels ride many years ago.

Finally I heard the brake rubbing slightly on the front wheel at the slower points of the course. Once we got going the wind drowned out the zzz-zzz sound but at Turn One I could hear it. I had forgotten to adjust the brake cable. I tried the barrel adjuster just in case but no, it was already down as far as possible.

(I just now realized I have the quick release lever in the brake lever but I forgot about that since I never use it.)

By the end of the first lap I knew the Coke bottle wouldn't do me any good. I debated what to do with it for a couple laps and finally tossed it into the finish line tent. I watched in horror as it headed straight for the heater. If we came around the next lap and there was a cloud of Coke steam I'd know that the bottle melted on the heater, blew up, and covered everyone in sticky Coke.

The next lap there was no steam.

Phew.

(Ends up the bottle flew into one of the official's bags. Fortunately for me they saved it for me.)

I spent a good 5 to 8 laps trying to get the helmet cam working but with no success. The wind and the abrupt pace changes meant that I had to have both hands on the bars and pay attention to what was going on around me. I almost lost control a couple times in the group fiddling with the camera so I stayed at the back after that. I actually sat up and drifted off the back trying to turn on the camera but after I made a good 200 meter effort to get back on I decided it wasn't worth it.

By about 20 laps to go I'd given up on the helmet cam, trying half-heartedly once or twice from there to the end of the race.

I spent the next 5 or 8 laps trying to pull my tights up. I start at the calves, pull them up over my knees, do the thighs, then finally up around my waist. They're bib tights, yes, but they're really tight, and it takes a few minutes for me to get them adjusted when I'm standing around. On the bike… yeah, it didn't work. I raced with a diaper-feeling pair of tights. They caught on the saddle almost every time I sat back down.

Ugh.

I let the right shoe buckle stay loose. I didn't want to ratchet it tighter and have it let go. I focused on pedaling a bit harder with my left leg, kept that buckle tight, and decided to postpone the risk-reward decision on whether I should try to ratchet the right buckle tighter until later.

In the meantime I was in a race. There were guys going off all the time, with Six Cycle the most active. Joel actually chased the first move for four laps but ended up stuck in no-man's land. He sat up, let the field absorb him, and recovered while the next set of moves played out.

That's about all I noticed while I fiddled with my helmet cam and tights. I did notice a few break type riders sitting at the back. One guy was sitting so far off the back of the field that he wasn't even drafting. I ended up behind him, distracted with tights and helmet cam stuff, and realized, oh, we're 30-40 feet off the back.

It took an enormous effort to close the gap.

Yet he stood post there, in the wind. I realized just how strong he had to be to maintain that kind of effort.

And think it was nothing.

That's the part that gets me. For him it wasn't worth the two pedal strokes to get into shelter. He sat in the wind nonchalantly like it was no big deal.

He and another break type rider talked a bit, planning moves. I listened a bit but the only thing I could think of was my right buckle - would it just let go one lap or would it tolerate me ratcheting it tighter?

I didn't know.

The moves never materialized from the two break type people so I decided it had to be planning for the end of the race.

I did notice that I could get up the hill okay this year, and this week seemed better than the prior two weeks. I don't know why - the 6s aren't that much lighter or anything - but somehow things were a bit better.

I was also not cramping and not bonking. I felt hungry, yes, but I wasn't getting those chills and cold sweats that I get when I bonk for real.

As we started counting down into the last 10 laps I decided to risk the ratchet thing. I clicked it once and the shoe felt instantly better. Instead of a slipper on the upstroke it felt more like a… snug slipper. My foot still moved a lot but it felt much better.

To keep my in "balance" I also tightened the left buckle. That side felt right, like my foot was in a (gentle) vise.

Due to the massive headwind on the backstretch I decided that I'd need to be further up going into the sprint. I could make up a lot of ground on the hill but the group would be going so slow that there wouldn't be enough time to make up a lot of ground during the sprint.

Therefore I tried to move up a bit, something that's not my normal race tactic.

I could see Six Cycle trying to organize something with three laps to go. I wasn't sure if they were going to gap off one of their riders (I think they did) but when that rider came back it seemed that the field had resigned themselves to a sprint.

Which, of course, is fine by me.

I gambled on another click of the buckle and it held. Now the shoe felt loosely snug. I didn't feel like I was pulling out of the shoe on every upstroke. I'd want 2-3 more clicks under normal conditions but this was all I wanted to risk.

At two laps to go I made an uncharacteristic effort to move up, landing myself in about 15-20th spot, maybe a touch closer to the front. I could see the Six Cycles guys at the front, other guys trying to make last minute moves.

I spent the lap surfing efficiently, cresting the hill on the bell lap in about 10th spot. I felt this was pretty good - I could move when the front moved but I was further back than say five spots. I felt the first five spots would hit too much wind on the backstretch, except if a guy was getting led out.

See, a guy getting led out would not have to worry much about what was going on in front of him so he'd be able to shelter properly, safe in the knowledge that he didn't have to leave himself an out to pass his leadout man, at least not until it was time.

On the backstretch it stayed sort of strung out. I was probably 10th spot or so going into the "wooded area" just before the mirror building. The left side started surging hard, and I could sense a lot of people passing me on the outside. Not great but it was what it was.

Then the wind showed its hand and the left side of the field came to a virtual stop.

I went right, again, knowing I had to go early because I was too far back.

I jumped on the right side, kept on about the yellow line, and clawed my way past one or two riders. No jump like the old days, that's for sure, I'm now a diesel struggling to accelerate to the line.

The guy to my left, a few feet over, suddenly fell over.

With about 20 feet to the line I kept going, throwing my bike instinctively.

Then, rounding Turn One, I stayed right so I could loop around immediately and see how the rider was doing. He was relatively fine as was the guy that crashed over him. Not happy, of course, but walking away.

I had no idea how I'd placed. I'd focused on holding a clean line, on trying to pass the guys in front of me, but I assumed that the left side surge had blasted 5 or 10 riders up the hill. I paid no attention to the left side so I figured 5 or 10 guys were duking it out for the win over there.

If I had to put a number to it I'd have guessed maybe 10th place or so. If things were good I'd place better than last week's 12th.

Then someone told me I got 5th.

5th?

I guess the left side really did come to a screeching halt.

I got back to the Expedition, the front brake rubbing, thirsty from no bottle, hungry from no food.

5th place!

I saved the Strava thing on my phone, I texted the Missus to let her know the race went reasonably well, updated her on the promotion side of things, changed, and headed back to the trailer to help with the end of day stuff. There's a lot to do and we try to get as much of it done as possible before the P123s finish.

At some point I looked at the results sheet. 5th was good enough that I'd want to make sure I wasn't missed or whatever.

My first glance saw something wrong. I wasn't in 5th, someone else was.

Then I looked up a line.

4th!

Even better!

After a long day that brought a good smile to my face. Wow, 4th place.

Of course I immediately started doing the "what to do next week" inventory thing.

Okay, next week I gotta adjust the brake cable so it doesn't rub. I need to have a bottle ready on the bike. Maybe half a bottle of water. Maybe a quarter. I need to not eat too much during the day. Coffee is good. Dress warmer. The 6s seemed to be fine, maybe use those.

Yada yada yada.

The phrase "There's always next week" is a ubiquitous thing for virtually all racers, perhaps except the winner. It's a way of saying that although this week wasn't perfect we can all try again next week.

So yeah, 4th.

We'll see how it goes next week.

Promoting - 2014 Tour de Kirche

So this has been the trying year with the Series. First was a tenant complaint regarding the races in 2013. The second has been an immense increase in park traffic due to a couple new businesses in the venue.

Aside from that I've had the normal issues with promoting races.

Race Results

The main thing from the prior week was post-results "protests" for lack of a better word. "Protest" implies something negative (have you ever heard of a "good" protest?) but it's the term used when someone disputes their finishing place. The standard rule has been, and has always been for as long as I remember, that any results need to be protested within 15 minutes of the time the results get posted.

Now, at Bethel we do understand that racers often do back-to-back races, and typically those racers are strong enough to place in their first race. Therefore it makes human sense to allow those racers to protest results that technically become official while they're on their bike racing their second race.

Anyone else, though, falls under the 15 minute rule. The idea is that anyone that has an interest in their place will check the results when they get posted, note any discrepancies, and then the results will get resolved.

About 15 people asked questions about their results from the Ris Van Bethel, the second race of the Series, as well as results from 2013.

Therefore, going forward, the officials made a point of having laminated signs posted at registration, made announcements at the start line about the 15 minute protest period.

Nevertheless a few racers contacted me regarding missing numbers in the finishes of the Cat 3-4 race, even after the efforts of the officials to explain the protest period rule.

Screenshot from the 2014 rulebook.

This was the biggest racer-related issue for the Tour de Kirche so it was relatively minor.

One thing I've done in the past but have not been able to do this year is to upload results before leaving the venue. I used to be able to upload the results immediately after the P123 stuff got finalized, but now it's not possible due to the amount of necessary packing up. If I can get stuff more honed in the "end of day" bit then I can devote energy to cleaning up and uploading results from the venue.

Course Control

The ongoing issue with traffic on the course was the main promoting issue for the Tour de Kirche. The traffic going to the two new businesses on the course kept the marshals and police officers busy with traffic control, and kept racers on their toes.

We have to keep in mind that the bike race is NOT the primary reason for the business park's existence. We borrow the park with the town's blessings but we have no right to it. Not keeping the stretch from the driveway->TurnOne clear was problematic and I had to kick three cyclists out of one of the off-limits parking lot.

I spent a core part of the day handling tenant complaints and working out solutions to their complaints, to the point that I did little else.

Course Conditions

The course was in admittedly less-than-ideal condition on Sunday morning, and even Sunday afternoon we had spots of sand on the course. The issue was the warm weather during the prior week melting all the snow and exposing a lot of sand and pebbles. By Saturday the course was such that there were 3 or 4 feet of sand sometimes inches deep along the shoulder of much of the course.

I arrived as early as possible on Saturday to try and clear some of the sand, but after 4 hours, and with the sun completely gone, I ran out of time. My initial goal was to break up the sand and let the sun dry it out, but then it became spreading it to the other side of the road (the non-racing side) so that it could dry overnight.

Unfortunately in the dark I didn't see how much mud there was, and that's the stuff that froze to the ground. We spend two hours with a couple leaf blowers, a power broom, and regular brooms, and until the temperatures climbed into the low 30s it was fine. However the frozen sand got a bit loose towards the end of the day.

On the other hand the very rough patch jobs I did last year seem to be holding up well. The patches feel solid and pretty smooth, much better than when I first put them down.

One unexpected problem was that when I headed down to the course on Saturday the thermometer stood at about 58 degrees. I dressed appropriately in relatively light clothing, leaving off my heavy coat, any heavy sweatshirt hoodies, and only packing some warm pants because it was easier to put it away in my bag than in the closet.

This resulted in me being dressed for 58 degree temperatures in the 20-odd degree morning. I don't think I warmed up completely until I took a hot shower Sunday night. I'll have to remember to bring "everything" next week, regardless of the current conditions. I bring everything in terms of racing kit, it should be the same for my street clothing.

Wind

With the strongest winds of the Series thus far I was really glad we had the trailer for registration. We ran out of propane for the little heaters and I hadn't gotten any "weatherproofing" done with the windows, but it was better than sitting on the pavement under a tent with the tent sides threatening to blow the whole thing to the other side of town.

The finish line tent was a different story - it was really gusty, they had no sides, so it was brutal out there. My goal to make a platform for the officials has transformed into making wind barriers for them. I'm not sure how to do it yet but that's on my agenda.

Race Logistics

One thing that has been a solid anchor for me has been the crew working the race this year. With a lot of changes to the staff (one family dropped out due to the demanding schedule, another dropped in), I was a bit worried going into the Series. However the staff has been exemplary, to the point that the actual race logistics have been the least of my concerns.

It used to be that I worried about registration, I worried about incorrect info, incomplete registration lists, racers racing without a license or signed waiver, but now I know that stuff gets handled properly. Questions come to me, of course, but it's usually stuff like  me promising a Cat 5 to get him in the race just as I fall asleep on the computer. This results in no entry for said Cat 5, as was the case Sunday, but with plenty of open spots it was fine.

Overall though I consider registration to be a mature and fluent process. It's no longer something I worry about each week because the combination of the spreadsheets, the pre-race prep, and the staff's knowledge make the process self-managing.

Another issue in the past has been the camera. I worry about the finish line footage because it's a one time thing. The camera person has just one chance to get it right and if it screws up then I hear from the whole field of racers. Although rare, any camera errors really weigh heavily on me. I realized the hard way that if I let the battery die in the camera then it reverts to default settings, one that auto adjusts shutter speed. We use 1/10,000 shutter speed so if it auto adjusts it blurs all the numbers.

This year, with the extremely detailed documentation provided by the last year's camera guy, things have gone 100% smoothly. In fact during the first week the camera guy Mike mentioned to me something about the screen saver lock on the laptop. I panicked and asked him if he got locked out and he nonchalantly replied that he just entered the password and got in.

Puzzled I asked him how he knew my screensaver password.

"It's in the documentation."

Oh.

This year there have been no errors with the camera - the numbers, when legible, show up properly. We get the occasional obscured or illegible number but we rely on the racers to protest if it's their number. However such instances are due to non-camera things.

On the other hand I'd like to have two cameras going for each finish so that we can reduce the number of missed/illegible numbers. Either that or get the camera up higher to get a different angle on the line.

Trailer

During one of the colder bits of the day (meaning I was particularly cold) I had this realization that I really need to work on the trailer during the week. We had a lot of stuff in there that we didn't need, I didn't have any organized way of storing things, and it really reduced the efficiency of setting up and breaking down on race day. It also made the trailer colder than necessary.

I listed goals last week but all that got throw out because of the course conditions - that took precedence over the trailer things.

I decided that I had to drive the trailer back home and work on it here. Since I'm 90 minutes away from the course I don't have time to head down, work on the trailer (after unloading it), and getting back at a reasonable time (after loading it up).

Also many of my tools are here at the house. I don't know what I'll get done this week but the first thing will be to jettison some of the extra stuff, to organize some of the random bins, and then to try and do some build up work inside (shelves, tables).

Part of this will be to try and build up the stuff for the finish line tent, camera stuff, wind breaks, tent stabilizing stuff, etc.

Finally I want to try and think of standard spots for the leaf blowers and other "standard" equipment that I expect to bring to every race. Once these get their "spots" then it'll be much more straight forward to pack and unpack the trailer.

On the way back I had my first trailer scare, when a particularly strong gust pushed the trailer right at the exact time an 18 wheeler was passing to the left. The trailer pulled the Expedition to the left pretty hard, hard enough that the 18 wheeler swerved away from me and the traffic behind me slowed hard. It took me a bit of time to get calm again but I otherwise felt okay. I made it back without hitting anything, not even a curb.

I forgot to mention this last week but I discovered, to my dismay, that the hatch on the Expedition won't open all the way because it hits the trailer's V-nose. However, once we jacked up and stabilized the trailer, the hatch opened all the way.

We just forgot to close the hatch before dropping the trailer back onto the hitch. We puzzled why the trailer wouldn't drop onto the ball but it finally did. At some point I reached up to close the hatch, wondering why it was so high, and then I realized - the hatch had been holding up the trailer, and only when both the trailer and hatch bent (yes bent!) did the trailer drop. I had to detach the trailer, jack it up, close the hatch, and lower it again. I suppose the good thing is that I've now broken in the trailer officially.

The Expedition also.

Overall

The unusual demands of the race this week meant that I spent a lot of time and energy dealing with specific tenant complaints. I felt enough discomfort that I gave the town a heads up about the complaints.

I implied in the last promoting post that this has been a particularly trying Spring Series, and that I don't see the Series continuing on this venue in this fashion. Although I stand by that thought I've been asked to pause and wait until the Series finishes up before I make any decisions. That makes sense and it's what I'll do.

In the meantime I will work on improving our processes and procedures. Not doing that would be giving up altogether and that's not in the works for now. For actual race logistics that means the trailer, improvements to the finish line set up, and trying to upload the results quicker. For the race itself it means better course control, more organization on my part in terms of marshals and signage, and having a cleaner, clearer course.

2014 Tour de Kirche Results

Results here.

Promoting - 2013 Tour de Kirche

I suppose the whole promoting gig started on Friday. The Missus got home from work, Junior went to sleep, and we immediately set about doing the pre-reg books, releases, start lists, etc. We had to double check the "exceptions" (like when I add someone manually) to make sure we had releases for the start list people and that the start list people really should have been on the start list.

Saturday got busier.

In the last 5 or 6 years, since I moved away from the Bethel area, I've driven down the day before the race to my dad's. Since we've had registration indoors, first at Panificio Navona, then now at the Retail Lab, I drove down to do minor set up tasks. Sometimes it's not so minor, like shoveling a few hundred yards of road shoulder clear of snow. Other times it's pretty basic, marking off the lawn or doing a quick drive-around to make sure nothing weird happened since the last time I was there.

The Missus works Saturdays at this time of year, even Sundays, so she normally can't make any races after the first one.

The new wild card for this year is Junior of course. Someone needs to look after him so with the Missus at work Saturdays that means I need to make sure he stays out of trouble. This means waiting until she gets home before heading out towards Bethel.

March 16th was a bit different. I've missed, for eight years, the one official's clinic held each year in the district. Most years the clinic happened to take place while I was training in SoCal. Last year the Missus and I had our hands full with Junior's arrival. This year I decided to make it a priority this year to attend the 8:30 AM - 4:30 PM clinic.

That times range meant that I had to have someone take care of Junior. One of the regular Bethel officials Meg volunteered to take care of him - she'd be bringing another Bethel regular Delaney to the officials' clinic. So I got to the venue at about 8:00 AM with a full day's of distractions packed in a few bags.

Junior hanging out before the clinic.

It ended up going well. Junior behaved himself, spending literally hours in the classroom (the clinic was at a local school) with all the potential new officials. He only really made noise a few times in which case Meg would take him out exploring the rest of the school. He even slept for an hour and a half in the class, waking up with his quiet self-babble, only getting excited when he realized I was there.

After a long day I passed the very reasonable test. My one error had to do with the free lap rule of all things. Never assume, right?

I headed home with Junior, the plan being to leave the Golf with Junior's stuff and take the Jetta. I had to finish packing the race stuff in the Jetta - my bikes were inside still, for example, as were the computers and such. Once packed I headed out... but it was late.

On the way out - this is about 10 minutes from the house.

I wanted to check the course and such but I didn't have time, plus I was exhausted from the long day (Junior wakes up at about 6 AM each day now). I knew tomorrow would be another long day so I made the executive decision to head straight to my dad's house, skipping checking out the course (which would add about an hour driving to the route). I had to stop for dinner - tonight it would be an egg sandwich and a calorie rich muffin.

I kept thinking of things that I might have forgotten. My shoes ("okay they're in my gear bag"), my helmet ("that's in the bag with the clean Leader's Jerseys"), the check book ("in the bag with the official clinic stuff... and it has Junior's log in it, oops"), finish line camera, race permit package ("in the plastic bin... and there it is in the rear view mirror"), etc etc.

My phone kept ringing (during the clinic as well as during the drive down) but I let it go to voicemail. If I took any calls about the race now I'd just forget whatever I promised to do and that's worse than the caller just thinking, "Oh he's not available".

On the way it started to snow.

Arrived at my dad's at about 9 PM. It's snowing.

Once at my dad's I brought in one laptop and my overnight stuff. I had to handle a few last minute questions about the race, mainly about the weather, and posted stuff to the site about the weather. The Missus and I had spent Friday evening prepping pre-reg so that was all set.

Then my brother and I talked, as we usually do, except this time we talked until something like almost 1 AM. I wouldn't recommend this with a 4:30 AM wake up alarm.

Arrive at the course at about 6 AM.

I managed to get to the race okay. I was on that race day adrenaline, my mind racing, thinking of all the things I had to deal with during the day.

The first deal was the ice cold conditions. We had black ice on the course, it was in the low-mid 20s, just bitterly cold. The Cat 5s braved the conditions for the clinic and the race and by the time the clinic finished the last of the ice was covered or gone.

Registration has really smoothed out. The Missus wasn't here for the first time this year but things ran well nonetheless. Our new crew for day-of-registration, Amanda and Joel, did superbly. I helped out here and there but otherwise it was all them. Delaney, as a newly minted official, handled the pre-reg folks perfectly as well.

The camera, too, went better, with Jonathan manning it. As another newly minted official he had a better understanding of the various priorities of an official so that helped.

The marshaling has really improved for this year. We still need help whenever we can get it but the main spots, by the start/finish and Turn One, the hill, and "Turn Two", had good coverage. A lot of racers stepped up and marshaled, getting comp'ed for their race in return.

Unfortunately the Tour de Kirche marked the first anniversary of a tragic crash. Last year Markus Bohler fell in the Cat 3-4 race, succumbing to his injuries early the next morning. VeloNews did an article named Death In The Family about the crash - it was their Editor's story of the year. In respect we had a moment of silence before the Cat 4 race and the Cat 3-4 race.

Rob Kelley of Pawling speaks briefly to the Cat 4 field before their start.

Finish of a silent lap in memory of Markus.

Someone put flowers at the crash site this year.

The Markus Bohler Memorial, in use by spectators as intended.

The cycling community really pulled together after Markus's death, raising funds in New York and New England. Ultimately the fund was used to build the Markus Bohler Memorial at the start/finish area of the Bethel Spring Series. Each week this year people have sat there to watch the races, exactly what the intent was when the Memorial was designed.

The fields were unusually large this week. I was happiest about the Women's race, hitting almost 50 racers.

The Women's field lines up.

The Cat 3-4 race was a massive 120 starters, the most I've ever seen at a Bethel. Three of the five missing starters were my teammates so it was very few people that couldn't make it. The other fields weren't as big so it may not have been a record day overall but it was definitely one of the bigger days. Hard to believe after that day's morning where we had black ice, frozen sand, and snow on everything except the road itself.

We managed to start breaking things down during the P123 race. I had suffered in the 3-4s (finishing 93rd out of 95 finishers) so I was around to help once I recovered a bit. We pack up stuff in the van, trailer, and whatever car I drive.

After receiving two birthday gifts for Junior I headed home.

View to the top right.

View to the top left.

Once we put the rack on the Jetta I've been very aware of the rack whenever I pull into the garage. Every time we go somewhere I stop and look up before I pull in, even if we didn't bring a bike. One day, after I stopped the car outside the garage and craned my head left and right, looking at the obviously empty rack, the Missus asked me what I was doing.

"Practicing."

I got home a little bit before 7 PM. I backed up to the garage, looking at the bikes on the roof and the garage entrance. Yes, I stopped before the garage. I quickly unloaded the race stuff from the car, the Missus putting Junior's seat back in place. Now if we needed to go anywhere with Junior we could - leaving the car packed meant that we only had one car available with a babyseat.

I knew the racers really wanted to see results up, including the GC, so I worked on that before I did anything else. The Missus tried to feed me dinner but I couldn't even feel hungry until I was almost done with the GC and I'd already put up the day's results. Only then did I feel like I could take a shower and relax.

Of course I was so tired I really couldn't do anything. I couldn't stay awake, I couldn't focus, and I could barely read a half dozen pages of a book before the blanket of fatigue covered my face.

I took off my glasses and fell asleep.

Bethel Spring Series 2009 - Kirche Finishline Vid

Courtesy SOC.

It was a lot closer than I thought. I looked around while I was sprinting and thought there was no one around. I didn't even throw the bike other than a casual bar toss. Goes to show that you really ought to throw the bike at the line for every sprint.

Bethel Spring Series 2009 - Tour de Kirche Report

No, no helmet cam. I wish I'd worn it Sunday but I simply forgot it in the rush to get ready.

The day started off well with the battery from Vantage Motors (Stamford, CT) starting the van up on the first try. If you need a classic sports car (say, like a James Bond Aston Martin) restored or serviced, they have restored or built up many award winning cars. End plug for good friend.

At o'dark hundred hours, a working battery took a huge weight off my mind. The missus there helped too, both for the moral support as well as the fact that her car was loaded down with Bethel stuff we'd brought down from home!

When we got to Bethel, we discovered a great thing. Not quite as great as a lost tomb or a winning lottery ticket, but close.

The Sweep Elves had visited the course over the last week, and except for a film of dust on the roads, they'd been swept clear of all that annoying sand and stuff. The Elves apparently ride bikes because the racing line was perfect, but at registration we sat in chairs sitting on an inch of sand.

With the roads swept, a full crew of helpers, and some surprising volunteers (thanks JJ!) I could hang out at the registration table to help out with the transfer of duties from the hard working Gene and the just-as-hard working missus. Gene is pulling back from the whole cycling thing, and the missus's real job has a lot to do with taxes, and it's tax season now. The young blood replacing them (some were literally baby-sat at early renditions of Bethel) did great work keeping the registration process smooth and efficient.

You'd think that such help would have let me warm up for an hour and all that, but I got busy chatting with various folks there, handling little problems, and generally frittered away that time until, hey, it was race time.

The racers were lined up and I wasn't even fully dressed, so I rushed over without finding my gloves, without my tires pumped up, etc etc. I did manage to level and tighten my bars - last week they moved twice on me when I hit the deceptively sharp manhole cover "pothole" in Turn One, and once again on a ride with an long-time friend Mike K. The bike had felt almost unrideable, but with the bars in proper position, I was back in business.

The official had been droning on and on about various things, and when he saw me roll over, he started wrapping things up. Then he saw me grab a pump nearby and started his droning again. For all those guys in the race, thanks for the extra bit of tolerance for a tardy promoter guy.

With my bike set, the official quickly finished up his speech "You'll go on my whistle!" and we were off.

I pride myself on being a good "clipper inner", meaning I get in my pedals quickly, but Sunday I thought someone was going to rear end me before I got going. Terrible. The other slightly bad thing that happened is my very pro looking shoe covers (my new favorite riding gear piece, btw) refuse to stay zipped (well one of them anyway) and then the zipper got stuck on that one. I thought briefly of taking them off but I felt like I had to maintain position so I decided to forgoe that move.

Maintain position? Yep, you heard right, maintain position.

For those two negatives listed just up there were the only things that didn't go well in the race. The wind was calm, the road was perfect (I almost tripped when my boot caught on what I thought was sandy pavement - it was just discolored from the sand but it was extremely grippy), and we had a big field (92 registered, 5 didn't pick up their numbers, so we paid 9 places anyway). It was just a bit bigger from last week and it made for some dramatic images when they were all strung out.

Prior to the race a long time friendly rival told me he thought the race would break up, with 10 or 15 riders rolling up the road. He expected it to be strung out, gaps forming, and at some point the elastic breaking. So when it started getting strung out a few laps in, and said friendly rival went rocketing towards the front (we were at the back), my Spidey Sense started tingling.

I couldn't rocket up to the front like him so I had to steadily work my way up, difficult when it's strung out, just as difficult when the field ended up packed tightly. But, eventually, I made it towards the front. I even poked my nose into the first few riders, following a surge by a rider down the backstretch. A lot of wind compared to even a few riders back, but I got a taste of it.

If it came down to a sprint it would not be a late jump sprint.

I drifted back a bit and spent the next few laps slotted in about 20 or 30 riders from the front, far back enough to get shelter, somewhat close to the action, and able to respond if something threatening suddenly brewed up.

On the hill my 175s made a huge difference (at least in my mind), letting me climb seated in either big or little gears (I usually went up in a 53x15 or so, sometimes as low as the 19), or stand if I felt the need. And my properly positioned bars made standing on the hoods a great position. With all the flying, traveling, and such, my bars end up tilted a little too high, a little too low, but my last adjustment (done on the trainer, while I was riding) was really good. My bike finally felt "great".

With about 15 laps down, I started getting tired. I'd been constantly surfing the surges, staying close to the front (well, like 20th), and I figured that if the lap cards said 15 to go or more, I'd drift back and try and recover a bit. The pace was pretty hot and I was getting a bit tired. I strained to catch a glimpse of the lap cards, the first time I'd look at them this race.

5 to go.

What?!

Distracted and worried by a potential move off the front, I'd spent at least 15 laps patrolling the front. No chance of drifting back to catch a breath - it took me about 3 or 4 laps to move from the back to the front, and I didn't have that time any more.

Saturday evening, on the trainer (and adjusting my bars) I decided that I'd follow the aforementioned friendly rival in Sunday's race. He led out the sprint, he is almost always in excellent position, and he's typically much stronger than me overall. I reiterated this thought when I went to bed a few hours later, and I reinforced the idea after quizzing him briefly on the unfolding of the sprint the prior week.

So, with the laps counting down quick enough that I only glanced at 2 to go to make sure I was counting right, I set off to find him. And from 2 to go to about half a lap to go, I followed him, moving up the outside when he did, protecting position in the field when he slid back in.

At 2 to go I felt a bit strained, but nothing like last week. I felt strained in expectation, not in struggle, and I had to constantly balance between moving up (expending energy) and holding position (building up reserves for the sprint).

Keltic put a lot of guys at the front around this time, led by their extremely strong Bill Thompson. They lost their front position a short time later and a few guys shot out of the field, trying to do the big break to the finish.

As the surges kept moving up, it seemed that the field was steadily accelerating, shutting down attempts just to move up. I'm sure that it was possible to move up, but I felt some satisfaction that I sat at the front end of the field. Last week I'd have been 30 guys back and starting to panic.

We hit just over 31 mph going into the slight headwind at the bottom of the hill, and the field was pretty bunched up, everyone trying to move up. I lost a few spots to guys going around the outside, but I knew that I wanted to do the hill in the middle of the road, drifting left with everyone towards the top.

Sure enough, as we climbed to the ringing bell, the guys to the outside (left) got shut down, we all drifted left, and I crested the hill only 10 or so riders back.

It's weird, the closer I get to the finish, the less sure I am of the outcome.

The worst is getting led out by teammates. Here are guys killing themselves, just drilling it, for me, and I have no idea if I'll get swamped at the line.

The second worst is being in good position, like 8th or 10th going into the last lap. That's a spot ripe for being swamped, for being boxed in, for sitting up a few hundred meters as the field buries you for even thinking about a good race.

So I tried to think about maintaining my place and not about placing in the race.

As we rounded the turn one guy was way off, maybe 10, maybe 12 seconds away, but I figured we'd catch him in the sprint if nothing changed. A field going 35 mph covers a lot of ground in a hurry, but it'd be touch and go. Two more guys were trying to bridge, but they were a couple seconds back from the solo guy, and I thought that either they'd win or they'd be history.

The somewhat coordinated leadouts seem to have disappeared, but I don't know. Nothing really stood out because I was just groveling on the wheel, trying to ride the surges, trying not to get boxed in.

I chose the middle inside down the backstretch, trusting the wind to handle those on the outside, and the curb to control those to the inside. The field charged on, but I couldn't even see the solo break guy. We were sprinting for second.

Then, at about 300 meters to go, with form just like Nico Mattan in the 1996 Ghent Wevelgem (can you tell that's one of my favorite tapes?), a tall, slim rider launched a strong, fully commited jump. He later told me he found himself at the front, realized it wasn't going to be his race, and jumped really hard.

"I knew I was helping someone out when I did that."

He certainly did.

The field, bottled up just a touch, blew apart. The guy on his wheel did a similar launch, and I followed that second rider. The leadout guy hauled ass, actually gapping the second guy as we started rounding the mirror building bend, 200 meters to go. I, in turn, was not quite on that second guy. The field, I'm sure, was on my wheel.

I could see the two man chase up the hill, and in front of them, the solo break guy, but I quickly forgot about them as I focused on the sprint.

Slightly gapped, hands on the drops, fingers on the shifters, I wanted to do a "good" jump. I'd experimented with my jump in California, albeit while sick, and found that I jump best at 90 rpms. I also found that my jumps in training are much, much stronger than the ones in racing, mainly because I never mentally set up a race sprint. You just can't do that, at least not me, because I have to react to the race situation, not to my sprinting whims.

So with a slight gap to the guy in front of me, and another gap in front of him, and a smattering of riders in front of them, I figured I had a brief moment to collect myself, to look at the SRM, to see what my cadence was, to prepare myself for the sprint.

You know, I wanted to do a proper jump.

Okay. I jump at 90 rpms. Am I going 90? No, definitely too slow, maybe 80. I better shift down, but then I may over spin. Maybe I should anyway...

Aw, eff it, it's the freakin' race and I gotta go NOW.

I shifted BAM, jumped as hard as I could, shifted BAM, jumped again. I got around the two guys in front, then started the left bend to the finish. Tall skinny blue guy. Where did he come from??? He was on the yellow line, drifting left, dying. In the past I'd stay to the right, taking the long but safe line, but today I glanced down and left, saw nothing and went to his inside, cutting short the corner just a touch.

Then I saw the solo break guy. He was dying a thousand deaths, trying to hump it to the line before he got swamped. I died a thousand and one deaths, debating whether I should shift down a gear to pass him. I didn't because my right hand had no idea what "shift down a gear" meant, and I kept slogging the gear. I rode by him too.

I crossed the line clear enough that I didn't throw the bike, and I was coming undone as it was anyway. Although I regret it now, I immediately stopped and lay down on the grass, the world spinning its way around me. I should have kept going, but what's done is done.

Incredibly for me, as I review the data this morning, I jumped at over 100 rpms, and I maintained 110 rpms for a good 5 seconds, even as I shifted. I guess 80 rpms feels different when I'm racing, because it's really 25 rpms faster. The flat 110 rpm plateau surprised me because I normally overgear and sprint at something like 70 rpms. Okay, maybe 90, but not 110.

Although I wasn't sure if one of the two chasers had escaped the clutches of the field, someone confirmed to me that I'd won the sprint. Okay, that I knew, but it wasn't until a minute or two later that someone else confirmed that there were no breaks.

Woot!

Good bar position, a short spin the day before, a little less sick, and voila, good things.

Maybe getting sick in SoCal is the key. I dunno. But I'll take this day in exchange for all those sick days.

Bethel Spring Series 2009 - Tour de Kirche

Results and brief race reports here.

Bethel Spring Series - Snow cancels Tour de Kirche

So this morning I looked out the window. Apparently I have no voodoo powers. The world was white and still.

My fiancee and I went out to shovel early this morning. This was getting old quick since we shoveled last night to cut down the volume of snow we'd shovel today. We found that the snow had semi-frozen, creating a sort of shell of snow. The shoveled areas were only 3 or 4 inches thick, but even that was very hard to move. We had to chip away at it and then move it.

After two hours, we cleared about 100 square feet. We played Rushhour with the cars.

Eventually we got the red car out (it has very aggressive snow tires and is great in the snow). I had to back it up a bit, gun it, and then go for it on the foot deep snow on the road.

State maintained roads were surprisingly clear, but all the secondary roads were like ours - unplowed with 2 foot high "walls" hemming them in from the primary roads. We were able to get out only because some kind Samaritan plowed a lane down the slight hill down our road. The Samaritan stopped about 10 feet from our driveway and so that bit was the stuff the red car had to surf over to get to the "safe" area.

After talking it over with my co-promoter, I decided to call the race. The most significant factor, after the sheer volume of snow everywhere, was tomorrow's temperature forecast. Even without anymore precipitation expected, with temps in the 20's in the morning, we'd run the risk of having ice on the course.

A close second were the unplowed roads. I don't know how other towns are but it would not be good to hold a race and have racers crashing on their way to the race (that already happened this year). Plus from a purely practical standpoint, I don't know when my road will be plowed. And with a very heavily loaded two wheel drive van which has an official tendency to spin and flip when it loses traction, it didn't seem like a good idea to be driving that around today to go clear the course. And if we don't get there tomorrow, well, no race.

So no race.

This sort of frees up the weekend unexpectedly.

And it gives me some time to train and recover. I hadn't touched my bikes since I put them in the garage after last week's race. And I'm finally getting over my cold.

Next weekend they're forecasting temps in the 50's.

Maybe I'll finally have a good sprint.

Bethel Spring Series - Snow

So it's snowing pretty hard.

Snow + Bike Race = no bike race.

Well, we'll see.

As it is, last night I had to pick up my bro as he ended up breaking his ankle. So we asked our waiter, who was standing at our table with our dinner, to put it in "to go" bags.

I remembered some very nice expensive crutches we got last year when my fiancee hurt her foot. So we stopped by the house and picked those up, ice packs (in a picnic cooler), and some painkillers.

I was tempted to grab the untouched Grey Goose Vodka (it's been in our fridge for a few years now) but I figured that wouldn't mix well with whatever tests the hospital does.

"So, how did you hurt yourself?"
"Well, you shee shur, I wash... what wash I doing?"

I left the vodka behind.

We flew halfway across the state to get him. I drove for a stint while she ate, then we switched so I could eat.

Teamwork.

Except she drives a lot faster than I do. Sort of. In the rain anyway. So I was a bit nervous. So she slowed down for me.

What can I say.

We got there and I clambered out of the car, crutches in one hand, the ice packs and Alleve in the other. I felt like an EMT. We went in, I gave my bro the crutches, and he hobbled out to the car. I figured they wrapped his ankle because it looked so fat. I found out that it was all him and a thin sock. Ouch.

His wife had to put their older son (my nephew of course) to bed quickly so she could meet us at the hospital.

"Quick story and then bedtime because Mommy has to go pick up Daddy."
"Why?"
"Well Daddy hurt himself playing."

Pause.
Assimilation.
Comprehension.
Wide open eyes.

"Was Daddy playing too rough?"
"Well, yes he was."
"Does he have to stand in the corner?"
"No, he has to go to the hospital."
Pause.
"Does he have to stand in the hospital corner?"

You know, I can't believe every parent doesn't blog their kid's stuff. Actually, I know why. They probably don't have the time.

Anyway, what does that have to do with the Bethel Spring Series?

Nothing really. Except I just shoveled my driveway and my brother can't do that up where he lives. And he has a much longer driveway.

And tomorrow I'll be checking out the course to see if we can hold a race.

My flahute respect not withstanding, it's looking pretty grim.

Bethel Spring Series - pre Tour de Kirche

Seems that it's supposed to snow something like half a foot on Friday and another inch or two on Saturday.

Makes holding a race on Sunday morning sort of dicey.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed though. The Bethel course is known for having its own weather system - windy, cloudy, and cold, no matter what it's like anywhere else in the area. Maybe this time the snow will stick all around the course but not on it.

Plus, after last week's frozen fog problem, I was left with 280 pounds of salt in the van. So if it does snow, we can use it up. I can't think of a better way to use it than to spread it out on the Bethel course so that we can race on it.

Last night, after I updated the GC, I was working on two very significant race-cam videos and lost track of time. And lost what I saved of the Ris Van Bethel video. So I started to reconstruct it this morning. Probably be another day before that's up.

The other two videos will go up later. They're of past races but when you see them you'll know why they're so significant to me.

Now to go do some voodoo to keep the snow from accumulating on the Bethel course.