2011 Bethel Spring Series - Ronde de Bethel Reports

Results here

Cat 5s

The races started out under damp conditions, but the warmth helped make up for it, at least a bit. At almost 50 degrees, about 15 degrees warmer than normal. The field mainly stayed together initially, churning out a couple fast opening laps (28 mph or so). The speed shed riders, those gapped and therefore in the wind. couldn't hang on.

Cat 4s

An early race move defined today's very wet and damp race. With temperatures dropping the riders seemed willing to work hard to try and warm up. Lance Jones (Expo Wheelmen) and Daniel Caridi (CRCA/teaNY) took off, building a decent gap.

Bethel Cycle's team launched a furious chase, putting, at one point, 8 or 9 riders at the front. Jones sat up when the field drew near, but Caridi kept his head down and stayed clear. He lasted much of the race, despite the chase behind.

Jones, realizing Caridi wouldn't be coming back any time soon, went clear again, but had an untimely puncture. Without a wheel in the pits he was done.

The field finally reeled in Caridi with about 7 laps to go. At that point a flurry of counter attacks went, with Justin Tyberg (Bethel Cycle) going clear. He quickly built a 20 second lead. Although faltering up the hill on the last lap, he finished off a great ride with a solo win.

Womens

With the rain now coming down really hard, spray flying everywhere, a small core group of women went to the line. Although the group stayed mainly together, in the end a familiar face showed itself at the front - Ann Marie Miller. She came here with two teammates, showing their commitment to doing well in the race overall.

Masters 45+

An epic day for an epic race. Matt Stuart (Central Wheel) took off at the gun, intent on softening up the field. What he didn't expect was that the move would last the entire race. Carl Reglar (Team Danbury Audi/Pedal and Pump) eventually bridged up, forming what would become the winning two man break.

Behind them the field disintegrated, gaps everywhere, as racers scrambled to either chase or hang on, depending on how their legs felt.

Stuart eventually settled for second, with Reglar beating him to the line.

Jim Escobar (Team Danbury Audi/Pedal and Pump) won the field sprint ahead of TargeTraining teammates Rick Spears and Rich Foley. Chris McNeil (Unattached) took sixth and the final points place.

Cat 3-4s

The skies opened up for the latter part of the day. The Cat 3-4s took the brunt of one of the storm's passes. The field tore itself apart as riders tried to force a decision before the sprint. Time and again a group would go up the road, determined to break the race apart, but the sprinters and their teams just as determinedly brought them back.

At the end the race finished up in a big field sprint. Bryan Haas (Berlin Bike/Best Cleaners) opened his race account early with a win in the Ronde, obligating him (as he put it) to return to the race next week. Juan Pimentel (CRCA) took second, followed by Bethel Cycle's strongman Bill Muzzio. John O'Fallon (CRCA/Rapha) took a well earned fourth, followed by Jacinta Pereira (Unattached) and the final points earner Darius Shekari (CRCA/TeaNY).

Pro-1-2-3

A very small field lined up for the final event of the day. Faced with almost 40 miles of racing, the small field seemed reluctant to go after an early four man break. Driven equally by all four riders, the break steadily gained ground. Eric Merrill (ZCC-Zane's Cycling) had a sizeable and strong team supporting him back in the field; Gabriel Acaba (Michelob Ultra Cycling) was in there as well as Justin Lindine (Joe's Garage). The fourth rider faltered slightly and got fatally gapped. He reported to his teammates the state of the break when he dropped back.

In the field the Zanes Cycling team monitored everything, pulling at a steady (and not so fast) pace when no one wanted to pull. Colavita, BikeReg, TargeTraining, Bethel Cycle, and other teams, mostly represented by just one rider, took responsibility for chasing. Peter Hurst (BikeReg/Cannondale) made some especially hard efforts, almost shredding the field with his attacks.

Robert Sweeting, the pro with Kenda/5Hour Energy, ended up so heavily marked that he couldn't make any moves. Neutralized, he and the rest of the field ended up lapped by the now-three man break.

In the end Acaba cleaned up out of the three man break, followed by Merrill and Lindine. Evan Thomas (TargeTraining) took the field sprint for fourth, with Cat 3 Pereiro doing a nice sprint to take fifth. Rounding out the points places was the Hurst.

Promoting Races - Sweep Day + Registration Prep

(I realized something. I forgot to get everyone's names and race desired and all that for the people from Sweep. Arg. See me when you register, or say you swept and I'll nod or not.)

We're starting to wind down the prep stuff for the start of the 2011 Outdoor Sports Center Bethel Spring Series.

In case you missed the memo, the Bethel Spring Series now has their own site, at (of course) bethelspringseries.com. Bookmark it now because it doesn't come up in search well (the old site, www.carpediemracing.org, does for me).

At some point I'll put together a little story about how that came about, but suffice it to say that it's a nice site. I can say that because I didn't do it; except for some text, I had a lot of help from a couple people.

Anyway, with the Series starting tomorrow, that could only mean one thing today - it's sweep time!

Sweep time means getting everything down here. It's not like the old days where I could just drive home, grab something, and be back in an hour or so. Now it's a three hour round trip so if I forget something it's kind of major. Therefore packing becomes a bit more critical.

I'd been packing the van for a couple days, a little at a time. It's overwhelming to try and do it all at once, and I've tweaked my back more than once trying to do it late at night in bone-chilling cold.

First was the stop to the storage facility where a lot of stuff lives for most of the year. We keep outdoor type stuff there, the grate covers, garden tools (shovels and brooms), tents, tables, leaf blowers, gas cans, power cords, podiums, buckets, generators, and I don't remember what else.

After the storage facility stop.
I added maybe 10 various bins to this.

Second stop was the house, where the "indoor" stuff lives for most of the year. This includes things like laptops, power cords, various cameras, walkie talkies, printer, tripod, paper, toner, tape, markers, pens, pins, and, again, I don't remember what else.

Finally I had to get some stuff in there for myself, like my gear bag, race wheels, stuff like that. My bike (even my shoes) were already at Navone's - I knew I wasn't riding much at home so leaving them here at the Studio made sense.

I headed down to Bethel, a 90 minute drive, in what was now a comfortably laden van. With the 1-ton suspension, the thing bounces around if you have less than 500-1000 pounds of stuff in it. Since I removed almost 500 pounds of bench seats, making the van 500 pounds lighter to begin with, that means the van bounces around pretty much any time I drive it.

The only exceptions occur on two drives - one down to Bethel, the other when I drive back.

Both those days I have, in my estimation, a fully loaded van. Since I've already eliminated 500 pounds of bench seats, I figure that the van's load ends up in the 2500 pound range.

(It couldn't possibly be more than that because that wouldn't be legal.)

Instead of a highly sprung, impatient van, it mellows out. It rolls a bit drunkenly, slowly righting itself. It turns reluctantly, like a temperamental horse that wants to go straight instead. And it brakes... well, it slows at a leisurely rate.

It's a solid workhorse, not a thoroughbred. It does a specific job and it does it well.

We had an awesome surprise yesterday. A "spy" (okay, just a long time cycling person) let me know that the town was testing its streetsweeper on the course, along with the load capacities of a dump truck or two.

Apparently they all worked because when I got here this Saturday morning, things looked... cleaned.

End of Turn 2, where it used to be really messy. At 10 AM Saturday it was just kind of messy.

Just before the Mirror Building. Nice.
"Pay it forward" tube on dash. This is for those riders who need an emergency tube at Bethel.

Chunk of snow/ice three days ago Wednesday, so three days prior.
I worked pretty hard to get that little section clear.

When I got here March 5, it looked like this.

I met up with the sweep crew for the year. Smaller than prior years, they performed well. They all worked hard, I have to say. It ended up less a "Sweep Day" and more a "Chop Day". We hacked and picked and axed and stabbed big solid chunks of ice, sometimes six or eight inches thick, maybe more.

The "Chopin' Crew" at work.
That's like "To Chop", not like the composer which is pronounced like "Show-pan".

The result of the Composer Crew. Insane, right? Awesome. Beautiful.

Weary but happy crew.

We ate and hung out inside Navone's for a bit. The Expo boys, six or seven of us, kitted up and went and did almost 20 laps of the course. The Navone boys joined us too, and we had some friendly efforts going 'round and 'round the course.

Two or three groups rode through too, probably to check out the course, as well as some individuals.

I have to say that the hill is a LOT harder in a small group or alone. In the group you just fly up the thing, it's barely a bump. Solo, though, it's tough. I don't know how those "recon riders" don't get demoralized. I'd almost quit if I thought that's what I had to go through the next day.

We had fun buzzing around the course. We did a few spontaneous leadouts (I sprinted only once - the rest of the time I sat up just where I'd start sprinting). I didn't want to wear myself down before tomorrow, but I did appreciate the chance to ride outside for the first time since Palomar.

Then, after everyone left, it came time to do registration work. Print out the spreadsheets (we couldn't before because we didn't have the numbers since we're printing them here at Navone's). Set up registration area/s. Plug in the radios, and, for me, the helmet cams.

The Missus arrived, reinforcements when the energy levels ebbed dangerously low. Fresh coffee and some food and suddenly we got going again.

Day of race registration. Turn right when you walk in, you're there.

Next to day of race is pre-reg. Notebook is the key since it has all the riders' names in it.

The view when the door opens. Food and beverages for sale at the counter in front of you.
The coffee area, at least for Sweep Day. Sink hidden to the right.

The Lounge. Heh.

The P123 numbers. Very pro.

The rest of the numbers, printed on generic numbers.
Not so sharp but they don't cost a dollar a number (plus ink).

The Release forms. For Cat 5 One Day Licenses please ask at the desk.

See you tomorrow!

How To - Sweeping the Road

Need pictures of Digger, Drag, XL Sweep (techniques)

This road needs sweeping (picture from sweep day at Bethel, March 1, 2008).

There's nothing that reminds me more of bike racing than picking up a broom and sweeping sand and debris off of a patch of pavement.

One of my very few ventures into seeing (experiencing?) one of those Broadway type shows was to see Stomp. I sat down in the somewhat vertical seating area (no heads in the way when you're there) and waited in anticipation. My last show was some murder mystery thing in eighth grade so this was an unusual thing. I sat in anticipation as the crowd murmured around me.

The lights dimmed, the audience hushed, and we waited.

A light appeared on the empty stage. We heard some swishing scraping noises. Repeating rhythmically.

Noises absolutely unmistakable to someone who has helped clear the Bethel course for a decade or so.

"No," I thought, "They're sweeping?! I can't believe they need to sweep the stage now! They must have swept the stage before the show!"

Then a broom head, sweeping the stage floor, poked out from behind the curtain. Got pulled back. And reappeared. And here came this guy, sweeping the floor.

The problem was that he was sweeping it wrong!

Two handed hold, digging like he was trying to get to China or something. If you want to dig holes or wear out your broom's bristles, that's the way to do it.

If you want to sweep, though, you have to do it a different way.

Trust me, I know.

So, for all you early season promoters, helpers, and sweepers, this is how you do it.

There are three types of brush strokes - the Digger, the Drag, and the XL Sweep. A few miscellaneous moves complements the brush strokes - the Bang, the Chop, and the Upside Down Chisel. After going over technique I'll review some broom basics.

Broom types

Porch - The porch broom come in all different flavors. Significantly all of them have the pole and the bristles in the same plane - they're parallel. There's the one with an angled brush head, pointy on one end due to the angled cut of the bristles, for reaching into corners. The witch's broom is a classic, with stiff bristles and direct reach great for precise sweep work.

Unfortunately no Porch type broom works well when sweeping roads.

Normal - You'll find these everywhere. They have bristles mounted on a separate bar that screws onto a handle. The bristles sit at an angle relative to said handle. Bristles can be soft or stiff.

For basic road sweeping these work fine. Look for stiff bristles (versus soft ones) and short bristle lengths (versus long lengths). The really coarse brooms, meant for spreading driveway sealer, are too coarse. You need a broom broom with consistent bristles densely packed together, not a Harry Potter type where you have random shape bristles in a not-very-dense package.

Contractor - The ultimate in brooms, the contractor grade broom resembles a Normal with two metal braces between the handle and the brush head. Other less visible differences include wider brush widths, stronger handles, better quality bristles, and better quality wood.

The Contractor broom rules the roost. You can tighten up the braces (they loosen over time), the handles don't break, the bristles work well, and they seem to last forever. You know how you never use up a pen, how they disappear before they're done? Well, I've actually seen worn out contractor brooms. They're that good.

After the equipment, the technique.

The Brush Strokes

There's a huge variety of brush strokes. Just like in bike racing you need to use different methods for different challenges. Think of these as the different versions of pedaling - sitting, standing, and with hands on different parts of the bars.

Digger - The Digger is the most stereotypical sweep motion and the one used in Stomp. Grasp the broom with two hands and push the broom forwards and backwards while exerting a downward pressure on the brush head. The brush stroke can range from a few inches long to a couple feet. The Digger is used when breaking up heavily compacted sand, or simply wet sand.

Drag - The Drag is a very basic sweep motion. It's actually the most simple and involves walking along while letting the broom head drag along the ground. Used for dislodging dry but compacted sand, it's most effective when used with a power blower. The guy dragging the broom should walk just a bit ahead of the "impact zone" of the forced air from the blower. You know you're doing it right when you see a plume of sand blasting sideways from the blower.

The Drag also works well with an exhausted sweeper. For example, a worn out sweeper can walk back to Sweep Base with the broom held in Drag mode behind the person. The exhausted sweeper can still have some effect on sand and stuff with the broom bumping and bouncing on the road behind said sweeper.

XL Sweep - This is the most powerful of all manual sweep techniques. Instead of digging into the pavement and wasting energy, the XL Sweep relies on the bristle design of the broom head to move debris efficiently.

Since a pusher broom has its bristles at an aggressive angle, oftentimes it is unnecessary to exert anything but the lightest downward pressure. The acute angle of the bristle (kind of pushing against the grain) will spring the bristle back until it springs forward. This movement pushes debris up and away from the broom with very little sweeper input.

Such light pressure can be applied with just one hand, one arm. Therefore the XL Sweep uses just one arm. The other can rest or move to act as a counterbalance. When the sweeping arm tires, the sweeper can simply switch arms and continue sweeping.

The XL Sweep will allow full arm extension, enabling the sweeper to get 5 or 6 or even 7 feet of pavement cleared at one stroke. It takes only two passes to clear a normal lane, perhaps three to clear a wide lane with a shoulder. With a rhythmic pattern, a Sweeper can execute an XL Sweep about once a second. This will clear about two feet of road, maybe 6 feet width.

After 60 seconds, the sweeper could have cleared 120 feet of road, 6 feet wide. This is 40 yards by 2 yards. In 10 minutes it's a little less than a quarter mile. In 40 minutes, a mile. 80 minutes means a mile long, 12 feet wide. 160 minutes, 3 hours, means a mile course, curb to curb if it's 24 feet wide.

Ideally one should follow the XL Sweep with a blower to get rid of the light dust inevitably broken up by the sweeper's broom.

Additional Actions

The associated movements can be incorporated in one's sweeping repertoire as conditions require. Although not technically strokes, they'll come in handy. Consider this to be something like, say, wiping tires on a bike. It's not how you attack but it's a handy skill to have.

Bang - this is a simple technique used to clear the bristles of accumulated sand. Just like a paint brush holds paint, a broom will hold sand and debris. Turning the broom 90 degrees to the side and banging it on the pavement will clear the bristles decisively. Use this motion every fifth or tenth brush stroke in damp sand, depending on how much moisture the sand has absorbed. In dry stuff it's virtually never used.

Be careful that the debris doesn't end up on the swept part of the road.

Take care if you're not using a Contractor (metal reinforced) broom. An ordinary broom can fail in Bang mode.

Chop - a variation on the Bang, the Chop consists of using the broom head's side to break loose stubborn bits of sand, snow, ice, decomposing leaves, etc. Instead of banging the broom head on the pavement, the sweeper bangs it on the debris, ax-like. This motion breaks up the debris, allowing the operator to use one of the main sweep techniques to move the debris as necessary.

Another effect of the chop - you lose the end bristles.
Blue broom has been used in a Chop manner a lot.

Again, unless you have a reinforced broom, avoid this method.

Upside Down Chisel - this is used on wider swaths of sticky debris such as rooted grass/shrubs/trees, piles of decomposing leaves, clods of dirt, and other heavy, difficult to move debris. Ideally one would use a shovel but in the interest of expediting the sweep process, sometimes it isn't prudent to go find a shovel. Instead, turn the broom upside down and dig at the debris using the wooden head of the broom. Although not particularly effective if needed for long stretches of pavement, the Upside Down Chisel works for spot work on sewer grates, small potholes, and places where plows have uprooted grass clumps and dumped them on the road.

Broom Basics

Over the years I've learned that brooms are not created equal. Most brooms are totally inadequate for sweeping wide stretches of road. They're designed to sweep smooth concrete garage floors, not rough granular road pavement. So how do you pick out a broom?

First, eliminate all that do not have metal reinforcing braces connecting the broom head and handle. Such braces indicate that the broom was meant for heavy duty use. Said braces also allow the operator to use the Bang and Chop techniques with significantly reduced chances of snapping the broom head off the handle.

Contractor Broom
Note metal reinforcing bars.
Natural bristles like this are inferior and do not work as well, nor do they last as long.

Second, get the stiffest bristles possible. Softer ones allow one to get more of the soft, fine sand moved, but if you follow the brooms with a blower, it's easier to let the blower do the work. Stiff bristles let the operator move more sand, heavier sand, quicker. It's similar to coarse sandpaper - removes a lot of stuff but isn't that finely tuned.

Note that the red bristles are relatively thin and densely packed.
These are good for dusty sand but not great for pebbles and such.

Blue bristles are thicker and less densely packed.
Excellent for pebbles but not good for detail work.

Not too tall - 3" height works best.
This is what that blue broom looked like when it was new.

Third, from my experience, if it doesn't cost $35 or more, it's probably not what you're looking for (in 2008 prices at a big box hardware store). Look for "contractor brooms".

Fourth, look for all wood broom heads and handles. I have yet to see a plastic broom as strong as the wooden ones. I don't know if there are metal ones out there but in cold weather they'd be, well, cold.

As the broom gets used, the bristles wear down. A new broom is nice to use but reeks of, well, new-ness. When you sight a broom with bristles less than half their original length, you know you're dealing with a pro operator.

Pro broom to the right. Note bristles worn down due to massive amounts of sweeping.

A final warning for those driving leaf blowers while holding a broom - artificial bristles melt when they contact engine mufflers, like those on a leaf blower. 'Nuff said.

Anyway, that's about it for sweeping the road. Here's to a clean swept course!

And that thing about Stomp? Well, ends up the sweeper was part of the act. The Digger technique he used allowed the mics all over the place (including the stage floor?) to really emphasize the sweep noises.

Although he picked up a little bit of dust, there wasn't a lot. It was more for the show effect. And it worked.

(Orig written 3/29/08)

Bethel Spring Series - Training Onsite

This year, for a variety of reasons, I haven't been training as much. For the last two weeks my only rides have been at Navone Studios - Wednesday, Sunday, and then Wednesday. It got to the point that after Wednesday night's ride I just left my bike there. The next time I'll ride it will be Saturday after the sweep; after that it'll be on race day.

Of course, when you see the next couple pictures, you'll see why it's easy to ride at Navone's... the atmosphere.

The place is dripping in bikes, although I haven't taken any recent shots. But as an example here's one from last year:

Think more bikes, more pictures, and less tables.

The back is a bit more closed off now, with the nitty gritty of the operation hidden back there. It's open on training night since that's where everyone rides (who rides indoors - there's a corresponding outdoor ride which, in these cold temperatures, is way too flahute for me).

During the Series though, please remember the back is off limits. Even us registration folk won't be parading back there very often, if at all.

The screen about thirty feet away. I'm standing near the dividing wall between the front and back areas.

The space allows as many as eight riders or so to line up side by side without getting hit by errant sweat droplets or even any kind of odor (although I think for Pavlovian conditioning using embrocation would be excellent - I haven't brought my Atomic Balm out yet).

A better look at the screen.
Yes, that's my bike. Yes, that's the last race I did in 2010 on the screen.
Yes it's huge.
And it has a speaker system to match.

On two days we did structured workouts, one by Sufferfest, another by Carmichael. I liked the Sufferfest better because it uses a lot of race footage. As a bonus I hadn't seen the footage before it really engrossed me.

(Of course I had time to watch - I was so weak I gave up 15 seconds into each of the fifteen 60 seconds intervals. This gave me plenty of time to sight see.)

The Carmichael clips, although they are good at vocalizing the steps and stuff, have lots and lots of clips of riders on trainers. Since they all look like they're just moderately suffering, and they all have that same desperate look on their face that all riders on trainers have, it's not as aesthetically pleasing as seeing, say, Jens Voight putting it down in some unknown to us mainstream-race-watchers small stage race or something.

I realized that my ideal workout would be a split screen TV. I'd have the audio and the visual timer clock thing that Carmicheal has on one part of the TV (preferably the lower 10% of the screen, which is where the timer numbers sit). I'd have bike racing footage to replace the suffering trainer riders. I mean, yeah, I understand it's good to have a visual, but I'd much rather see some real racing action, not just that glazed over "I'm on a trainer and someone's video taping me" look.

In fact my ideal workout would be tied in with point of view footage of attacks, chases, and hanging on for dear life.

Hm.

Hm.

Hmmmmm.

Ahem.

To tie it all in, sort of, on the in-between day, a couple hours on Sunday, we watched something totally different. We warmed up to some 2006 Giro (the inhumanly strong Basso just before he took his leave of absence) before switching over to some SDC helmet cam clips.

Yes, we watched my point of view of some races.

No they did not have intervals built into them. We just did a 60 second effort every five minutes for an hour.

Every now and then I'd holler out (over speaker and trainer noise) pertinent information regarding tactics or some unwritten (i.e. not subtitled) stuff.

Jefferson, a Navone rider who I cruelly chased down at Naugatuck, did sprint the whole sprint in the Francis J Clarke clip, which has an unusually long sprint for me. Since the timing was off for the minute effort (it ended just as Cliff hit the front), I'd already sat down. I watched Jefferson drill it for another 30 seconds or so - my legs hurt just watching him.

In case you forgot what happened in the two races, I'll post them here. First Naugatuck, where I worked my butt off (intentionally). I was working for my teammate SOC who, after the race, admitted putting too much pressure on himself, but I also worked because I was chasing this elusive thing called form. I knew if I kept working on it I'd get it.

So, first Naugatuck, where I chased Jefferson:

And the final Cat 3-4 race at Bethel for 2010 (Jefferson wasn't in there as he was still a Cat 5):

If that second clip doesn't get you wound up for Bethel, I don't know what will.

Which brings me to Bethel for 2011...

Man those roads were CLEAN in 2010. Holy smokes.

Each time I went to Navone's I was really going to work on moving some of the ice off the pavement. The rides were just the bonuses, the reward for a hard bit of work.

I jokingly said to a few people that I'd make a good prisoner, chopping and hacking at the ice and frozen snow, then shoveling the grainy chunks off to the side. Rinse and repeat. Over and over.

Incredibly the course has gotten a lot better, but there's one final huge chunk which defeated me and a long time Bethel supporter Pat. He came out to help with this final obstacle last Wednesday (yesterday I just realized) and worked with me. We hacked at the thing in the dusk and then in the dark, illuminated by my idling car.

(The red car gets about 40-44 mpg if I drive it once or twice to Bethel with 100 miles of 3 mile commutes thrown in there, but if I idle it while I chop at ice, it's more like 33-35 mpg... it takes a full gallon to idle for an hour or two. Note to self - generator burns a gallon every 13 hours or so and I can run a couple 250/500 watt work lights off of that thing.)

We took turns chopping and hacking. Pat worked better with the high-force, high-impact metal shovel work. My shoulders and arms were still kind of half numb from Sunday's 6 hour session with the metal shovel. But I was good with the plastic big scoop shovel, an excellent Garant snow shovel, long handled for better leverage (with less back strain) and a scoop with sides so snow and ice chunks don't slither off before you get them hoisted over the bank.

The bank, by the way, was a bit tall, like three or four feet for much of it.

Pat would chop then pull off. I'd take my pull, shoveling. We traded pulls for a while, working like a two man paceline. Eventually we both blew up. He did what he could with salt and stuff; I slowed to a crawl while I worked first one shovel then the other.

I realized that I shovel just like I ride - fast and furious until I explode. Then it's painfully slow and methodical.

Nonetheless I feel pretty good about Sunday. Not about my racing, which will be pretty dismal, but about the race. I took a lot of pressure off my shoulders when I cornered myself into being able to do just one race, the P123s. Without being eligible for the M45+ (if I lowered it to M40+ I'd be eligible, one main reason why I didn't do it), nor the 3-4s, I put myself in a no-win situation.

Therefore I have no pressure on me. I don't feel obligated to train my brains out. I don't need to ask my teammates for help (I always feel guilty doing that, although I'll accept it if it comes my way).

Therefore I can focus more on promoting the race, versus racing the race.

Therefore I can do stuff like the clinic. Work on making some stuff way more cool than before. Work on some longer term ideas. Appreciate what the Series has already accomplished. Yada yada yada.

And I'll still be able to at least go to the start line and roll off with the field. No spectacular places for me, not this year. I know my place and I'm diving into water that goes just a bit over the top of my eyes. It'll be a struggle to stay afloat, but that's okay. I can handle that. I handled it before, and I'll handle it in the future I'm sure.

The Series, though, I hope it excels.

Promoting Races - Clearing Snow

"Seeding" the first part of the curb at the bottom of the hill. Wednesday evening.

The first driveway for the mirror building. Lots of snow and ice.

"Seeded" the ice on Wednesday, Sunday it's clear.

"Seeding" the second bit of the curb. Hopefully it looks better Wednesday.

Another view of the "seeded" area. Setting sun...

"Seeding" really refers to me spreading salt (calcium chloride or potassium chloride) around, but it also refers to giving access to more snow to the sun. It has less to do with planting anything.

The worst part. I don't know if this will be clear for Sunday.
The big hunk in the middle needs to go.
My goal is to have to clear just sand, not snow, on Saturday.

(Updated after the fact with pics)

I was going to take a few pictures of sweep techniques and post a nice thing on sweeping, but, frankly, I'm exhausted.

I'll post some pictures later when I upload some shots I took with my phone, but suffice it to say that if we get some warmer weather in the next couple days, much of the snow should be off the course.

I showed up with my car packed to the gills. On my first trip, last Wednesday, I couldn't get the car into reverse the next day - a shovel handle got in the way. But I made it home like that. This time I packed a bit better - I sacrificed some window space for reverse gear.

I even brought my top secret weapon, a propane torch.

I know that a guy burnt a hole in his roof trying to melt snow over the winter, but I figured I was, well, a little smarter than that.

Doesn't matter. Torches work for weeds and lighting things up.

For snow?

They don't work that well.

Okay, yeah, it's really fun to use, and it sounds like a jet plane (really!), snow banks start steaming, frozen leaves dry out and burst into flame, you get some tunneling propane gas (so the snow bank "catches on fire"), and hot sand just drops out of sight as it heats and drills holes in the ice...but since the torch artificially melts really cold stuff, the now-heated water runs down onto more really cold stuff and refreezes.

Basically the torch makes really good ice blocks.

Solid, unyielding, immovable ice blocks.

Since I dragged it to the venue I torched some random snow chunks but felt let down that my secret weapon didn't do much, and in fact caused me some problems.

Tip: Don't drive over snow banks because there may be hidden ice blocks within them.

Back using my trusty metal shovel, a snow shovel (super long handle Garant with a scoop with sides - easier to use and picks up lots of stuff), a metal garden tine rake thing, and 50 pounds of calcium chloride, I got about 20? meters of curb cleared of snow from the curb going around the mirror building at the base of the hill.

Then I got about 5 meters of really big snow cleared from the curb, this just after the mirror building.

I left about 10 meters of gargantuan snow on the curb - that's for Wednesday afternoon. Since this sits at the start of a late sprint, it's critical that this get shoveled.

I didn't "clear" it all, just got it down to pavement and curb (for the most part, ice blocks notwithstanding). I'll let Mother Nature and her nuclear bomb every millisecond heater (aka "The Sun") melt the stuff that I left laying around.

I did manage to review some race numbers at Navone Studios - we'll all be sporting numbers with Outdoor Sports Center's logo, and I hope to have some even nicer touches on the numbers. I can't promise them so I won't mention them, but if you do the P123 race you'll be in the "test group" for our super deluxe numbers.

We'll be inside the studio once again for registration, with a slightly different layout but the same space. It's cool being in there, with the whole bike and studio vibe, with some refinements and such. I'll detail them a bit more later, probably when we set up after the Sweep.

But for now I need to go to sleep.

Bethel Spring Series - Sweep Day = March 5, 2011

It's that time of year. I've been flexing my wrists after a tough evening on the course. It's a bit beat up out there, with lots of sand and snow. Although it may rain in the next week, it may snow too.

And the course ain't gonna get better on its own.

So... I need help.

How can you help?

Well, funny that you should ask.

Sweep Day will be Saturday March 5, 2011, at 10 AM. I figure it'll go until 4 PM.

Be prepared for some hard labor. If you ever thought you'd survive the stuff you see on TV, and I'm talking digging ditches, not Paris Roubaix, then Sweep Day is the day you see if you're right.

Bring whatever you can of the following: metal shovels, snow shovels, brooms, leaf blowers, power brooms, gloves, eye protection, ear protection, dust protection. I'll have some of each of them, but I may not be able to cover everyone.

Plus, if you want a $45 respirator mask thing, you gotta bring your own. I have one for me, but I can't afford to buy 20 of them.

Oh, and if you want, you should bring your bike and gear if you want to test ride the course after the sweep. We did this last year and it was a nice refreshing break from the less fun labor earlier.

For good effort work, sweepers get 3 weeks free entry. For more work, more entries (my discretion but you can ask).

Tasks:
1. Clear curbs of snow/sand, esp on the finish hill. Goal: use the course in the race.
2. Fill 19 five gal buckets with sand for signs directing course-side traffic. Goal: use of full road width.
3. Fill more five gal buckets for tent weights. Goal: provide officials with a tent that doesn't blow into the peloton as they ride by.

Method for dealing with sand:
1. Shovel/power-broom/sweep hard caked sand loose. Let sun/air dry it out a bit.
2. Make piles of sand around course; place bucket near each pile.
3. Put sand in buckets; van will be around to collect.
4. Extra sand we have to make disappear, probably into van, trailer, pick up, or similar.

Method for dealing with ice/snow:
1. Break it up, spread it out a bit. Let sun/air do some of the melting, expose dark curb and pavement so it can absorb sun/heat.
2. Put ice melt on snow to accelerate natural process (I'll have a bunch of melt).
3. As sun melts stuff, spread snow around more.
4. Shovel big chunks onto side of road since it'll take weeks to melt them.

Rules:
1. NO SAND ON LAWNS (this is huge, critical to keep race on). If we have time I actually want to power broom the sand on the lawns into the road, esp near the mirror building as well as up by the start/finish and Turn One.
2. No sand in drains either. We need the drains to work if we have rain.
3. Don't make drivers mad at you or me or any cyclist.
4. Start at the finishline and work backwards (counterclockwise). The first straight is less critical than, say, the bottom of the hill. When we're all fresh we should work on the critical stuff.

So that's that. If you're interested in helping out email me. Go here, click "Contact Event", and put "Sweep Day" in the subject, and let me know you're interested and what kind of gear you can realistically bring.

Yesterday I was contemplating the idea of paying a backhoe guy to do all of this, but I remembered something from way back when. Trust me, the idea of using machines to do all the work is pretty appealing, freeing up a day for me, saving a lot of energy, and doing 90% of the work (there's always a touch up bit you can do with blowers and brooms). But there's more to Sweep Day than just getting the road clear.

Part of the sweep day is to get racers to understand first hand some of the effort it takes to put on a race. It grounds them in a way, makes them part of the racing community. It's not easy work but nothing worthwhile ever is; you gain the benefits the old fashioned way - you earn it. So it's a good thing we have the day.

See you out there.

Doping - A Director's Assumptions

I like this article by Jonathan Vaughters. He assumed something. We all know what "assume" means (makes an "ass" out of "u" and "me"). I wish the best of luck to both him and Xavier Tondo.

http://www.cyclingnews.com/blogs/jonathan-vaughters/connecting-the-dots

Equipment - Light Wheels vs Aero Wheels

One of my big shocks in 2010 was my experience with heavier aero versus lighter non-aero wheels. Conventional wisdom, pushed hard by aero wheel companies, dictates that aero normally trumps non-aero, even with a relatively significant weight penalty.

Technically speaking aero wheels should offer advantages at all speeds, not just higher ones. This should make up for the low overall weight gain of the "aero" part of the aero wheels. When you consider a whole bike and rider (I'll use myself as an example) weighs in at a good 180 pounds or so, adding or subtracting a pound won't make a huge difference, even on a climb.

However, if you can reduce the amount of energy required to ride a given speed by a small percent, you get that benefit all the time. It's like interest on a savings account - for small balances it's a small benefit but it's measurable.

The question becomes, "Is it worth it?"

So for my savings account, if I make 0.5% interest, I may see a tangible amount of interest, a verifiable one. But if it's $5 a year interest on $1000 balance, or 42 cents a month, is it actually significant?

It may not be if the bank requires me to drive, say, 50 miles or so extra miles a year, which would mean I'd spend that $5 on gas alone.

Likewise, aero wheels, although they offer a tangible benefit, may be like my 0.5% savings account interest. Is it worth it?

Well, now I'm conflicted.

I used to believe in the blanket statement of deep rims all the time. But now... I realized something wasn't right last spring when I started riding on the tall profile, aerodynamic, and relatively heavy Jet6/Jet9 clincher set. I had a harder time making accelerations to match others, and found that although I could cruise once up to speed, my legs got a bit zapped when I did the actual accelerations.

TsunamiTwo with Jets.

After some experimenting with the Jets and the not-as-aero Bastognes, I found an interesting compromise.

TsunamiTwo with the rear Jet9 and a Bastogne front.
The front helped with stability but I got severely shelled on this day.

For "easier" training rides (17-19 mph solo, 20-21 mph group), I find my non-aero clinchers work well, better than the aero ones. I spend so little time at significant speeds (25 mph or higher) that the 1-2 lbs weight penalty to get aero benefits becomes significant.

I tried to compromise by using just the rear aero wheel, but it's still much less responsive on hills and when accelerating (responding to surges). The rear does help on sustained efforts though, especially if I'm already up to speed. This ends up my choice if I'm doing some riding in areas with cross/tailwinds and I think I'll see some sustained speeds (i.e. group ride).

Even for races I'll use the Bastognes because the accelerate much easier. I use a lot of my reserves accelerating hard to counter attacks and just get out of a corner. I used my aero wheels for a few weeks in early 2010 races at the Rent but got totally shelled because the third or fourth super hard acceleration just killed me.

(When I used aero tubulars which are lighter and more aero than my clinchers, I did fine.)

So until you go really fast in a group (25-27 mph avg speed) heavy aero wheels seem to be a disadvantage. A steady state 25 mph to me screams aero wheel. Jumpy races which average 25-27+ mph scream aero tubulars.

The issue here is weight. I'm not contesting the aero bit; it's the weight I don't like. HED builds the Jets as "faired" wheels - there's a whole structure there without the aero fairing, and then they add the aero fairing. I heard something a long time ago about race cars - everything needs to do at least two things. If a part only has one function, you're losing efficiency.

On the Jets the fairing acts only as a fairing. A separate rim acts as a structural member of the wheel. In contrast, HED's Stinger tubular wheels use the fairing as a structure as well as a fairing. This wheelset ends up really light. It's the whole "rim or fairing" thing.

This means there's light at the end of the tunnel- carbon rimmed clinchers which use the fairing as structural members. This includes wheels like the new Zipp 404 carbon clincher or the various Reynolds carbon clinchers.

(And, I hope, some wide rimmed HED carbon clinchers...)

Such rims normally weigh little. They spin up very quickly, allowing you to accelerate with low perceived effort. If you don't use them all the time they'll feel really, really fast when you do use them.

Where to draw the line?

The Jets I have (Jet6/Jet9) weigh about 1970g per pair. They feel like Mack trucks, or, based on my recent travel experiences, like a jet (you see how I did that?). They accelerate slowly but keep accelerating, eventually topping out at pretty high speeds. The front wheel catches more wind than a non-aero wheel, making the set up less than desirable for top speed truck drafting runs (anything over 45 mph).

The Bastognes, which I'd choose for most races over the Jets, weigh about 1550g per pair. That's about 430 grams less than the Jets, or just a touch under a pound difference. That's a lot for just rims. They feel pretty fast when I jump on them and they feel nimble when I'm tossing the bike around. They feel a bit limited in top speed. I should point out that they feel extremely stable in gusty drafting conditions, like following trucks at over 50 mph, but that has to do with the profile, not their weight.

My Stinger6s weigh somewhere south of 1400g per pair, and they feel fast. The tubular tires weigh less than clinchers so the weight savings increases that much more, maybe another 100g per wheel. I haven't drafted a truck on them because I use them almost exclusively for racing, but they're fine for 35 mph chases and leadouts as well as 40 mph sprints.

Therefore...

I think any wheelset under 1600g feels relatively light. Anything over 1800g feels heavy. 2000g, it feels weighted, not just heavy. I think 1800g is about the right limit for aero wheels as far as not compromising the jump.

I really like the Stingers and I'm happy with how they ride and accelerate. Of course I'd want a Stinger9 rear and a Stinger4 front, for more aero and more stability respectively. I'd like to have matching carbon clinchers (they don't exist at this time), weighing in at, I hope, somewhere around 1600g, less if possible.

Combined with the aluminum rimmed Bastognes I'd be happy if that completed my wheel inventory.

Racing - Junior Gear Limits

Ah, Junior gearing.

When I wanted to start racing, I fell under this strange and unknown rule called the "Junior Gear Limit". I knew about gear ratios. Heck, that's how I got into cycling, calculating the gear ratios for various chainring and cog combinations, trying to optimize the setup for 8 usable gears out of a 10 speed setup.

Meaning a 2x5, not a 10 speed hub.

We're talking old school here, with the emphasis on old.

Anyway, when I started racing, the rules stated I would be limited to a 7.47 meter roll out.

Ehhh, what?

My bike could not travel more than 7.47 meters with one pedal stroke while in the bike's biggest gear.

A quick look at the reference charts showed that I could use a 53x15, coincidentally the same gear my friend and first mentor Ken had on his bike. (Of course this would change if the bike had 700x21 tires - 650c and 24" wheels would require different gears... more on that later.)

Problem was finding freewheels that started with a 15T.

Even now, with cassettes, it's kind of hard to find a non 11/12/13 first cog cassette. Now try finding a 15T. Or 17T.

Freewheels come pre-assembled and were usually not customizable, at least not readily. Shops didn't stock extra cogs for the most part so you got what you got. Plus most cogs were different for different positions. You might end up with 3 or 4 17T cogs before you got one that fit the 4th spot on your freewheel. It was a pain.

Fortunately I'd optimized my Dawes Lightning's gearing using what's now known as a compact crank, a 110 mm bolt circle diameter (BCD) crankset, shod with a 48/34 combo of chainrings.

Combined with a 14T freewheel in the back (14-21 or 14-23 freewheels - I had two), this came very close to the 53x15 ratio. In fact a lot of Juniors used a 49x14 big gear, so my 48x14 was appropriate.

I patronized a shop that was managed by a racer, a Junior no less, and he sold me a bike set up with a nice 53/42 crankset running a 15-21 almost-straight-block freewheel. It ran 15-16-17-18-19-21, giving me the very nice 16T and 18T cogs, incredibly useful at 22 and 20 mph cruising speeds.

A true straight block (one tooth increments) would have ended in a 20T for a Junior. For Seniors it'd have been the knee-destroying 12-13-14-15-16-17, a 12-17, a tiny freewheel that allowed you to replace drive side spokes on your wheel without touching a freewheel tool.

That's tiny.

Just to compare to current gearing, the 42x21 bottom gear is the same as a 39x20. I seriously don't know how we got up the hills back then, but we all made it with a 42x21. The "strong" guys would run a 42x19, wimps a 42x23. One of my (Cat 4) teammates did Mount Washington and begrudgingly fitted a 42x28 "bail out" gear, doing all but the last few hundred meters in a 42x24 ratio because that was his "super low" gear. He ended up using the bailout gear at the steep section at the top and disappointed himself doing it.

Nowadays that'd be considered pretty dumb.

I run a 39x25 by default, bumping it down to a 39x23 for crits. With 10 cogs in the cassette, I can run a pretty tight set of cogs and still go to a 23T. The 25T big cog forces some jumps but the gear, well, I use it a lot on longer climbs or steeper ones.

Anyway...

Juniors nowadays still have to contend with the Junior gear limit. Why?

A lot of Juniors' parents criticize the gear limit. It forces them to use a ridiculously low top gear. It doesn't let them keep up with the massively geared Senior riders. It limits downhill and top speeds.

But it does something incredible for the long term - it builds an incredibly supple pedal stroke. It teaches the rider pedal form without any drills, without any mindless one foot drills on the trainer, no weird exercises.

You just try and hang on as long as possible. So natural for a 14 year old.

As a non-Junior, it's a little depressing watching Juniors progress. First they show up on a ride, wearing baggy shorts (borrowed from dad, or just baggy because they're still too skinny for anything out there). They get shelled in a heartbeat, making you wait (you can't ditch a 14 year old). They spin tiny gears, ridiculous. You run out of breath just watching them.

Then a year or two later, they're still there when the group hits the hills. And their insanely low weight, oftentimes still in just double digits, allows them to spring away when the road points up.

Who cares if you blast by them on the descent, watching them pedal a tiny gear furiously while you soft pedal you 53x11 by them? It still hurts to have to chase for 5 minutes after the top of the hill.

Then the day comes where they're with you to the end of the ride. They're still struggling with the gear limit in the final bit of the ride, where the pace picks up and perhaps there's a sprint. As you roll down the final few straights you may find yourself on said Junior's wheel. They sit and spin an incredibly high rpm, smooth as silk, months or years of desperate chasing now showing in their form. You know instinctively that when you jump they'll be hard pressed to match you, but you also know that it's only because of the gear.

Mano-a-mano, with appropriate gearing, that silky smooth pedaling Junior will annihilate you time after time.

Every single time.

So for all the critics, I say wait a few years. Life won't pass them by, and the best Juniors, the ones that'll "make it" will make it nonetheless.

In fact, I think Cat 5s should have a gear limit, maybe a 53x14, maybe a 53x15, something easily spun out in a sprint or downhill and less than comfortable in high speed (35 mph) bridge moves. This would go a long way towards teaching proper pedal technique to new riders.

How do you calculate a gear's rollout?

As a Junior this becomes critical since it's illegal to race with a gear that's too big (instant DQ - like the 1983 Junior Crit Nationals where the winner was DQed for running a 53x12 instead of a 53x15 - they awarded Roy Knickman, second by a touch, having rolled his tire in the straight line sprint, the National title) and a huge handicap if the gear is too low.

Remember that rollout is related to your tire size.

Measure the circumference of your current tire. Make sure the bike is normal - tire pumped up, no weight on bike. Then mark where valve is on a floor with a line type pattern like a linoleum or tile floor, roll wheel along line until valve points down again, measure in mm if possible.

ChainringTeeth/CogTeeth*circumference = roll out.

Chainring/Cog gives you the multiplication ratio the actual gear gives you (45x12 to use YMCA's example). A 45x12 is 3.75, i.e. the cog turns 3.75 times for every turn of the chainring (or crankarm).

Remember that usable ratio relies on tire circumference. One very good rider in CT, many years ago, got DQed in the state TT. He won by a couple minutes but he'd fitted an oversize tire on his rear wheel. He (wrongly) assumed that any wheel/tire would work with a 53x15 for the limit, but when he went to rollout his rear wheel consistently failed by probably half a centimeter (or some minor thing like that).

He was duly DQed even though he was running a 53x15 because he ran something like a 28mm tire.

What was frustrating about his experience was that he didn't need that - he was so good that he started carrying a spare tire in the TT because he could have a flat, stop, change it (tubular), keep going, and still finish with a reasonable expectation of winning the TT by a minute or so. He flatted one year and didn't finish, and based on his prior multiple minute winning margin he should have been able to change the flat and still win.

Remember that the gear limit really has to do with your tire's circumference.

The gear thing is simply an easy way to refer to a given gear in a language others understand.

Confusing:
"Dude, what's your biggest gear?"
"7.465 m"
"What?"
"Well, it's 7.452 if I use that other wheel."
"Huh? What are you smoking?"

Not as confusing:
"Dude, what's your biggest gear?"
"53x15"
"Oh. I'm running a 49x14. Couldn't find a 15T but I had the 49T ring."
"Oh."

Of course if one is running a 28mm tire, that's a different story. But on a training ride, or talking over lunch, or in a team meeting, gears are fine.

At a race you have to remember to think in rollout terms.

If you're a new rider, regardless of age, consider a mental gear limit. Try to limit your use of, say, the 11T. Or 12T. Or 13T. Or 14T. Spin lower gears while sitting in. You'll get sore in different parts of your legs, especially the fronts of your shins (at first).

But this pays off in the long run. It's why the old school training schedules all had 1000 or 1500 miles of 42x18 spinning on flat roads - to teach you how to pedal.

It's why I do some stupid long rides when I only do hour long crits.

It's so I remember how to pedal.

California - Day 15 Homeward Bound

The ride to Palomar must have really taken it out of me because it's been a week since I last did a post. I remember not-too-much of that evening, just going out for some steak (thanks guys!) and hanging out with the kids a bit.

Of course there was the whole "packing my bike" bit. Usually it's a drag for me anyways; it's always easier to unpack a bike than to pack it. I remember stopping a few times, sitting in the garage, looking at the half-done bike, and realizing it's like climbing Palomar - just keep doing it until it's done.

The morning of my trip back seemed much cooler than the day before - it seems I was getting out on a good day. I take the Cloud9 shuttle to and from the airport, and it's always been a good experience. Nice driver, friendly, and they drive reasonably safely. I had my heart in my throat a few times but I think I tend to drive further behind cars than others and I also slow much earlier than they do in SoCal. At home it's kind of a "coast up to the light, braking gently". But in SoCal it's "stay on gas until last possible second and then slam on brakes".

Hm I should sell brake pads in SoCal. Focus on the SUVs with their big mass that require a lot of motion-turning-to-heat-energy stuff, i.e. lots of brake pad material.

Regardless, we took off fine. I didn't have any flight neighbors worth speaking of on the way home, but this ended up a good thing. Instead of jabbering for the whole day, I spent it writing.

Writing, writing, writing.

I wrote stuff for Bethel. I wrote stuff for the clinic. I wrote other stuff. I made notes on who knows what. I'm definitely someone that writes a lot of lists so put in a list or two. I spent the better part of 7 hours writing.

And although I had two laptops with me, I prefer the actual writing part. My handwriting has deteriorated significantly, especially when I write in cursive, but I find writing on paper more versatile than typing on a keyboard. Fine, I should try a tablet or something, but the biggie is that I don't have to turn off my pen and paper when the flight attendant walks by as we taxi down the taxiway.

The flight back was exceptionally uneventful for the most part, with no rough patches over the Rockies, no choppiness descending down into Chicago (for a touch and go landing). In fact the landing in Chicago was so gentle I almost couldn't tell when we became a ground vehicle once again.

But when we started descending out of the cloud cover over Hartford...

Call me old or something. It wasn't as bad as when I was on a 747 going to Tokyo from JFK, where the plane's range (in the plane information leaflet in the seat back pocket) was less than the official flight distance from NYC.

In other words we were running on fumes.

Therefore, no matter what the conditions, when our flight showed up, we didn't circle for an hour, we didn't do a dry run, we just headed straight in for the runway.

In this case we descended into a terrific thunderstorm, with angry grey clouds everywhere, lightning flashes, rain, and all the "end of the world" kind of imagery you can conjure up.

I remember being bounced up hard into the seat belts, the 747's wings fluttering like a bird's wings. I thought it was great, just tons of fun. I grinned and looked out the window and watched the wing flex up and down some insane amount of distance. I even tightened my seat belt so I'd really get a good oomph whenever the plane dipped hard.

I must have been younger and dumber because I didn't appreciate the delicacies of bringing down a 450,000 lbs plane (which is the "sorta empty" weight) from 30- or 40-whatever thousand feet altitude.

Well, we made it fine in Tokyo.

But when we came out of the clouds into the "windy Hartford area", let me tell you, all my chuckling from that flight in Tokyo came back and repaid me in spades. I started thinking of how fast I could text the Missus if the plane started to fall. I thought of wind shear and looked down and tried to calculate if a 500 foot drop would put us into a house or if we'd still be flying.

The plane got pretty quiet, kind of like when a teacher gets mad (well at least when I was a kid) or you're at your friend's house and your friend's dad yells at him. It's one of those whole-lotta-trouble silent.

We bumped our way down lower and lower, the wings bouncing like they were inflatable wings.

That's bad, yes. Worse was the way the plane was yawing pretty hard. That's when it's flying in one direction (like "straight ahead") while pointing in another (like "to the right a bit") - a disadvantage of playing flying games is I learned about yaw. And, specifically, what a lot of yaw does to my own plane when I try and land them - I crash.

It's like doing a jump on a bike, turning the bike so it points to the one o'clock area, then landing. If you don't correct really fast, you're going down.

At least, I told myself, a computer is driving the thing. Computers generally fly the plane when they land. They can fly unflyable planes, planes that require so much instantaneous input and corrections that it would be impossible for even a top gun pilot to keep one aloft. The F-117 is alleged to be one such plane, the stealth design not very good for aerodynamics. But it flies and it flies well. Computers can do wonders.

But a large plane can only respond so quickly to environmental factors. Shove the plane down 500 feet and it doesn't matter how quickly the computer says to pull up, the plane just got shoved 500 feet down.

Anyway I wasn't feeling comfortable at all, and as we felt the plane swoop and dip we were all thinking the same thing: "I hope we land okay."

We did a full lap around Hartford, something I don't remember doing before (although, to be totally frank, I didn't pay as much attention as I did in my heightened-awareness I'm-about-to-die state). Sometimes it felt like the pilot put the brakes on, kind of normal, but then the plane's engines would surge hard and we'd be accelerating again.

The braking bit normally worries me ("Brakes? And we're flying?"), but the accelerations made me worry even more. The braking feeling simply doesn't feel natural, but at 400 mph or whatever, it's normal to slow down to a landing speed closer to 200 mph.

But to surge forward simply to keep air moving over the wings so that we stay in a flying mode?

Yeah, it's not good.

I started thinking about putting my head down in case we hit hard. I made sure my seatbelt was securely fashioned, like the flight attendant always says, and my stuff under the front seat was okay (it had to be - there was nothing there).

We accelerated yet again when I could practically pick out a license plate on the ground, then suddenly there was a road, snow, and then, almost too late, runway.

We hovered over the runway for a couple seconds, somehow stable, then the pilot dropped us hard onto the tarmac.

He put the brakes on a bit, then hit the reverse thrusters like normal, then hit the reverse thrusters for real.

Luggage slammed into the front of the overhead bins.

We all slammed into our seat belts.

The plane slowed. Taxied off the landing area.

I looked over at the guy two seats away from me. He had just turned to look at me.

"Phew."
"Yeah."

A girl was a bit more descriptive on the phone.

"I was scared for my life."

You know it's bad when the pilot doesn't say anything. It's really bad when the funny flight attendant, cracking jokes on the intercom during the flight, doesn't say a word. If the experienced fliers were wiping their collective brows...

But I was on the ground so it all ended okay.

I called the Missus as planned then collected my bags. She rolled up as I rolled out with the bags, a carefully choreographed dance with the airport police.

It was cold out, a stiff breeze blowing, but not crazy unbearable. Even though I'd just ridden in mid upper 70s weather, the windy single digit weather seemed... normal.

We headed straight home, she having had a long day, me having had one too. I, of course, relayed my near death experience, probably just like everyone else on the plane.

I got home and pulled out the helmet cam, just the cam bit. I wanted to see how the cats reacted to me after a two week absence. They normally run up and greet me, but after trips they scatter like I'm the boogeyman.

I opened the door. Mike was there, looked at me. He ran.

I was home.