Utah Cyclcocross #2 2010 - rough day

It was debacle day at Weber for us. Conditions were perfect - tacky, fast dirt. Nice cool temps - just a great day to go race bikes. I went off with the C's - legs felt good and and I'm getting excited to be on the bike again, something that was lacking this summer. Went with the front group on lap one and was positioned well when I made a sloppy remount after the double log barrier and burped my rear tire. Limped it in the rest of the lap to the wheel pit and swapped it out for one of the Stans neutral wheels that are a new feature, and might I mention a really great feature, at the UTCX series this year. It took me about 60 seconds to swap out the wheel, which I think is probably less than desirable and maybe something I should practice. What's a reasonable/acceptable swap time for a wheel - half that?

Going to keep it to one photo from my race - this log is one of the better spectator features in the series, plenty of crashes here - Saw one bad one here in the Mens A race - a guy on a Scott bike landed just a little sideways, taco'd his wheel, which led to what looked like a taco'd collarbone situation - worst crash I've seen at a cross race.

The Stan's wheel held air a whole lot better than my Mavic wheel did, it took the brunt of a few more sloppy remounts with no burping issues. There were a few good remounts as well, felt fast in most of the transitions today, but landing on the bike real heavy on occasion - need to get it to silky smooth. Rode hard trying to make up some ground..... until my chain snapped under some load going up one of the hills, that tickles. There's not a neutral pit to change out snapped chains... I was done. Here's the thing about cross though - despite the debacle, I'd enjoyed the morning's race probably more than I've enjoyed a bike ride since mid July - it's bringing the itch back, bigtime.

Annie lined up once more with the C's to see if she could repeat and validate last weeks win. I was fairly certain she would. It was a race for 1 lap, shortly thereafter she moved into the lead and proceeded to put a gap on her field that was measured by minutes and gobbled up plenty of B racers. It continued to increase until the last lap, when I lost track of her, couldn't see her riding where I thought she should be when I thought she should be there. So I start looking a little more intently, and while doing so, she comes trotting up outside the tape - with a flat rear tire - she thought her day was over. I told her to get back on course and run it in, she turns around, runs backwards along the course for about 100 yards to where she'd left it with her flat, get's back inside the tape, and starts running with her bike - first on her shoulder, then on the ground. She ran, remaining in the lead, until the last few hundred yards of the course at which point 2nd caught and passed her. She ran her bike across the finish for 2nd, but it was a better ride than she put in at last weeks win. She'll be lining up with the B's next race, and I think she'll do just fine there.

The women seem to be in accordance with where to stick Sly's dollar bills, the guys tuck them in their thighs, and I guess the girls could too - but don't - there was lot's of racer girl cleavage full of dollar bills at the end of the womens races.

What's better than watching the crashes at the little log? Watching Bart jumping the big logs - always a highlight at the Weber Fairgrounds track...

Disaster

P.S. Just took some snapshots of the computer screen to get these on here. Makes the video a little more tense knowing what I'm trying to wrench back into place. I'm an idiot.

P.S.S - yes, I'm aware my left pinkie may look as bad as the ring finger in the video. It's just fine. It was a dislocation, and also a field repair during a high school football game. First time I've seen an x-ray picture of it and will now admit maybe my alignment might have been a little off.

Started the video camera thinking I may get footage of a cool "in the field" repair of a dislocation. Ended up getting a four/five minute documentary of leadville hopes and ambitions dying on my last hard effort training ride before the race next week. Desperate wrenching on that hand, trying to stay positive in believing I could work it back to being right. Was still thinking it was 50/50 going into the hospital that it would just be a quick jerk on it by the doc to fix it. He knew the second he looked at it, and I was crushed when I saw the x-ray (tried to post it but can't get it off the cd they sent with me). Doc threw a temp. cast on and told me to see a hand guy to get it fixed right, so going to try and get into the TOSH folks first thing in the morning. Think it's more desperation than reality, but holding onto a sliver of hope that they can put some hardware in that would make it stable enough to race saturday. I still can't believe this happened. It's the bone that goes from my ring finger knuckle to the wrist, sheared in half on probably the least violent crash I've ever had.

High Uintas aka Hypothermia Classic

"That's the coldest I've ever been on a bike", that was the content of the email I sent Dug, Sam, Jon, and Tyler after the AF canyon ride early Friday morning. Little did I know that it was nothing more severe than a warm precurser to what was about to happen the next morning at the High Uintas Classic.

Worst break of the day: Had held off on pre-registration for the sole purpose of watching the weather, go figure. So Adam, Sam and I pull in and I walk up to the day of registration table and turns out I'm there just in time, or rather just too early. They've got one cat 5 number left, and I was the lucky fool who got it.

The biggest topic of discussion pre race was what to wear, like a bunch of girls getting ready for their first high school dance, only a bunch of middle age men in lycra. The three of us all opted for the same, arm warmers and a vest, with the exception of Sam who also threw on knee warmers. Conditions were actually ideal at the start line. Fun ride for the first 20-25 miles. Typical race flow, with the first selection occuring when the real climbing started. I was not in good form and didn't make it, and would spend the rest of the day by myself for the most part, behind the lead group which Sam made, a small chase group that Adam was in, and ahead of the remaining chase group that wasn't chasing. I wasn't in terrible form, but not real good either. Just one of those days... and would turn into one of those weekends...

There were some positives as the rain started coming down real steady on the way up. First, even in the rain, that is a beautiful ride. Between run off, and the large amount of moisture we've had, the Provo was running fierce, and there were some stunning landscapes. Second, learned I need to revisit the nutrition plan for Leadville. Third, I actually don't mind riding in the rain all that much. Not saying I love it, or even like it, but tolerated it just fine most of the way up with no adverse effects on attitude or pacing.

What I hate is riding in the rain when it's cold. And I didn't realize how cold it would get while climbing. But it came immediately as the climbing effort ended and the speed, and accompanying wind chill that accompany the descent, began at the top. The top comes at about mile 30, and by mile 37 I was concerned about safely controlling the bike, and by mile 38 I was concerned enough to pull over and jump in a truck for a couple of minutes to warm up and get some function back in my body, before finishing. Honestly, was real cold, but had no idea how bad of shape I was in when I got into the truck. 10 minutes after getting in I knew I was abandoning, and 20 minutes after getting in, I was still shaking violently and uncontrollably. I've never been like that before and it was a wierd sensation. There were 3 others in the truck in the same condition. After deciding to abandon, the gracious forest service voluteer whose truck we'd invaded took us down to the mass gathering of hypothermic cyclists at the 47 mile mark, where the buses were at capacity. I learned later that Sam had made it to that point before suffering the same fate, and then had to argue with folks who wanted him to get in the ambulance, which was also at capacity.

Bad A** award goes to Adam: Was still shivering when we got within 5 miles of Evanston, and I see a guy pedaling down the road in a Skull Candy Kit and DNA vest, it could only have been Sam or Adam. As we go by, I look out and confirm it was Adam, who had somehow managed to ride through conditions that had turned me into a cracked and broken man. I can't begin to tell you how tough the guys who finished had to be that day. Adam was 1 of 6 from our start time, 44 of us abandoned.

200 in the hospital with hypothermia was one report, and can assure you there were plenty more in the same condition not in that number. It was quite the site at the finish area.

Not sure if I was to the point of hypothermia, but if that wasn't it, that's as close as I ever want to get.

Wish I could say the weekend got better for me. TT was the next morning, similar cold, rainy conditions. I actually felt a little stronger for the 4 miles I rode before flatting. Makes for a long walk back in cycling shoes and in the cold rain, and in a dejected/pissed off mental state. Tried to stay a little positive by hollering encouragement to riders going by, and tried to learn some things in regards to form by watching the fast guys closely. But it was still a long walk. About 150 yards out from the finish, the organizers saw me hoofing it and sent a truck to pick me up, it was almost an insult at that point. So, scorecard now reads 1 abandon, 1 DNF, and one flat tubular, which effectively doubles the cost of this great time.

Weather for the crit later that afternoon was actually really good, and the course was really fun. And despite the sluggish state I was in, I was going to ride it and at least finish 1 of the 3 stages of the dang race. I was off the back by a gap I wasn't going to make up by lap two, and was resigned to just ride as hard as I could through the finish and avoid a sweep of DNF's. That mentality lasted one more lap, until that same pssst sound that had ended the mornings TT effort became apparent with each rotation of the back tire again. Unbelievable, it was happening again! As luck would have it, the leak stopped with enough air in the tire to keep the rim safe, and I rode the last three laps fairly gingerly on the corners to keep from rolling the semi flat tire, and I finally made it across a finish line for the weekend. Yep, that was the highlight... one of those weekends... that I hope I never have again.

Snakebitten - chapter 2

For the most part, I consider myself a pretty lucky guy - so I don't like adding chapters to this heading.

So, after my previous post on getting a little concerned all over again about the tubular tires I've started to experiment with - I decided to strip them off of the Tufo tape and reglue them with the glue recommended by continental - the maker of my conti competition tires - and you guessed it, they recommend continental glue be used to glue their tires - go figure. But I bit, you know, just in case it actually might hold them on better on top of conti selling an extra can of glue.

I won't beat around the bush. Installing tubular tires is laborious. Stretch the tire. Put a layer of glue on, let it dry, put another layer on, let it dry, put another layer on, then wrestle with the wheel while trying to stretch the tire over it, while it has wet glue on it - yeah, it's like that. But once on, you should be set for a might long time right. That's how it's supposed to work.

So after this process - I got out Tuesday night with Zeph (who recently got caught wrestling something else), Brandon and Tyler - a few of the conmen who suckered me into leadville, and piled it on by making throw my name in the hat for LOTOJA. Once again am crossing my fingers I don't get drawn. Anyway, back to the ride. I put on the Easton Aero wheels with the newly glued tubies on them - thumbs still raw from wrestling the tires on - and head down the north side of the hill to the local grocery store, then back up to meet the gang for a quick tour into Utah County and then back up the hill to get home.

First item of note - those of you who ride suncrest know that when descending the north side, you need to be ready for some wind coming around the second left handed bend on the way down. There's a little there more often than not, and sometimes it can be stiff, which can be sketchy at 50+ mph. I learned real quick that those deeper dish wheels make my bike buck a little harder when that wind hit's it - no fun crash story, but pucker factor none the less.

I meet a guy named Paul on the ride back up who was good company which makes the climb go a little faster, and meet up with the guys. We race down the south side trying to keep up with EB who makes his bike go pretty fast down hills and settle into a nice ride. The tubies feel great, no sketch factor at all. Then it happens. PSSHH. It wasn't pssssssssssss, it was PSSHH - and the whole group heard it. At first I thought it was my front tire, which had sealant in it, which I thought worked great. But no such luck - it was the rear tire, which had no sealant, and no sealant worked about as well as you'd expect.

So before I can rave about the pros of my new tubular tires, I've got a couple of con's to bring up.
1 - Your screwed if you get a flat. Granted- sealant should eliminate this the large majority of the time - but if not, your screwed. No tube to throw in or patch to throw on. The only fix is to carry an extra tire, which you'll need to throw on and ride gingerly home since there's not much besides a tight fit holding it on your wheel. After having to wrestle it on in public on the side of a road.
2 - Carrying an extra tire isn't really that much more of a deal in regards to weight and room than carrying your standard spare tube - other than I think I'd feel a little silly announcing to the group - "uh, hold up once second, forgot to grab my spare tire".
3 - Carrying that spare tire is that much more of a deal on a cost basis. That flat tire I got - it was a bad one, large slice on the sidewall, not sealable with sealant - so the tire's shot, with less than 150 miles on it. Here's the rub - those things cost $100 a pop. Yes, there are cheaper tubies, and I'm a frugal guy for the most part, but not in this case. So yes, I was a little peeved at ruining an expensive tire after so little use, and more peeved about the prospect of having to wrestle a new one onto that dang wheel again - it's currently being "stretched" in preparation for install tomorrow night.

While on the topic of cons - here's another. Cell phone reception can sometimes be spotty where I live in Suncrest - it's great most of the time, but there are moments. So, tire's blown, I tell the guys I forgot my spare tire, and to go on without me, I'll call my wife for a ride. It's about 7:30 and I'm up by Cedar Hills Golf Course - can see my house across the way. In fact, I can almost hear my wife's phone ringing, in my house, while looking at it while calling - but what's really going on in my house - silence - wife's cell phone is sitting on the counter taking a nap, and pretending I'm not calling it. No ring, no indication that I just left my 8th voicemail saying it's 8:30, cold, and I'm standing on the side of the road in cycling shorts and a sweaty jersey - trying to dramatize the phone into working by explaining I'm dipping into a hypothermic state. Still didn't work.

Luckily - the conmen's phone's were working, and after hitching a ride down to the gas station by a sympathetic fellow cyclist - thanks Kyle in the yellow truck, Brandon was gracious enough to drive back down the hill and pick my sorry behind up and take me home. First time I've been snakebitten on a road ride - and think I'm not due again for quite some time.

Snakebitten

That's what day 2 of last weeks St. George trip was.

Brandon got us to Springdale safely late friday night after white knuckling it through the snowstorm in the big Expedition. I decided on the way down to opt for volume out near Zions with the conmen on Saturday vs. intensity at the race in St. George, where Rick and Sam laid down an early season message that they're to be reckoned this year in the single speed category. We met the doc and rode Jem/Rim/Gould Saturday morning - Jem was fast and we had a riot ripping the 1 track back to the parking lot. It had been a good pace all day, but something about Jem makes you open the throttle - and the yelps let you know when someone hit the section where the trail drops out from under you. There was a hairless sasquatch sighting at the end of the trail - he briefly appeared on a bike coming around the last corner - but quickly retreated when he saw a larger than expected crowd near the cars.

Finished the day with a jaunt around Slickrock Swamp - great trail to wind down and play on, but we looked more like a train of zombies than kids on a playground by the time we got to the slickrock - we were pretty spent. The only rubs anyone had on day one was Tyler getting a cramp in his calf early in the morning, and Brandon feeling the bolts of his new shoes on the bottom of his foot all day - that had to be comfortable.

Tyler educated us on the virtues of backcountry skiing over breakfast the next morning before the ride. On the docket for day 2 - Gooseberry Mesa, and an uncanny series of mishaps. The day actually started off with a little luck - we were meeting up with the doc again who was coming from St. George - and it just so happened that both parties arrived within 3 minutes of each other, about 45 minutes later than the agreed upon meeting time with no cell reception to let the other know we were running late - so chalk one up for the win column right off the bat.

About 30 minutes later, the snakebites started. I think it started with me. Nothing spectacular, standard faceplant into one of the short steep ascents up one of the slickrock walls. Tyler and Erik I think are the ones who saw it, and because there were witnesses, I got up doing the post crash fake laugh thing, surveyed the damage/showed off the severe rockrash on my right arm which had added flare with all the blood, remounted, and tried to get a moment to myself to weep and scream f bombs in my head to counter the fire shooting out of the rock rash and the sprain I knew I'd put in my left wrist when trying to prevent getting a little rockrash on my face. The face was saved (no matter of opinion jokes - Annie) but at the expense of the wrist which is just starting to feel better 8 days later. May do a post on what to do with rock/road rash scabs - or any scabs for that matter. What to do with that layer of skin crust has been a source of much discussion around my house this week, with wife and kids all having their input. I'm a picker.

The next strike was on Banks - who somehow managed to break one of his eggbeater pedals. The pros of eggbeater pedals? Their light, simple design makes them a nice pedal for the minimalist. They're hands down the most popular pedal with the folks I ride with here in Suncrest, and I converted to them for cyclocross last season. Here's the con - depending on where your at on Gooseberry when that thing breaks, the lack of any type of platform on that pedal means you may very well have a long walk to the road before you can get back on the bike and limp it down the road. Brandon's walk wasn't real long, but he made it a little longer when he crashed on the way back to the road. Should mention that he crashed while walking the bike, not while riding it - talk about insult to injury - or, because the walking crash drew blood, maybe injury to insult?

The two Eric/k's and Erik's buddy Tyler and I took the hidden valley route back to the jeep road and headed back to the cars to meet back up with Brandon and Tyler after fixing the pedal problem (Erik R. happened to have an extra bike with the remedy, flats and pedal cages). If you've got to bail from the good stuff on Gooseberry, that jeep road is actually a fun descent - not nearly as good as the trail, but certainly not the suckiest bailout route that ever sucked. We were having fun bouncing around on the little rock jumps, etc... down the jeep road when I hit a rock and my rear tire let out a big belch. It was loud, and it was a lot of air. I ride a tubeless setup, and it seemed to seal right up and I was able to make it back to the car to top it off at the air pump. We regrouped, made a few jokes about the guy with one eggbeater pedal and one rat cage, and were off again for more of Gooseberry's classic trail. The happiness lasted maybe another 30 minutes, when I downshift for yet another quick/steep push up a rock, and my drivetrain locks up. I manage to get off instead of fall off, and start the delicate surgery of extracting my rear deraileur from my spokes, which is where it ended up after my chain apparently dropped off the inside of my cassette. To my surprise, the surgery actually went pretty well, and I lived to ride another day, or another couple hundred yards. The belching rear tire wasn't holding air.

But - not to be outdone - Banks wasn't content with breaking just one pedal in a day, so he went for the two bagger. Yep - he snapped the spring in both eggbeater pedals in one day. Come on, seriously - I'm still new to the scene, but I'm guessing the number of people who can claim they've done that can be counted on one hand.

So when we got back to the jeep road, I volunteered to take my slow leaking tire and attitude back to the car with Banks, along with Erik and Tyler from Cedar City who had to get back to wives and kids to finish their family vacation time. And just to top off the theme of the day, I rolled the back tire enough to burp it completely flat on the ride back down the jeep road, and ended up hoofing it the last half mile. The Zeph and Tyler finished the trail, we loaded up, and I put my seat belt on extra tight, and wrote a farewell note to my family, certain that we'd be gobbled up by the first avalanche ever to happen on Gooseberry Mesa on our drive down the hill. It doesn't matter that there was no snow or slopes, it was that kind of day. It says a lot about your friends when you look back on that kind of crap and remember it as fun, or at least funny.