Lancaster 2006...Re-runs III

The instructions I received at the start line were simple. Triple A-Aaron said “Just follow the Giant.” The plan was to follow all the moves of the American Thor Hushovd aka Isaiah, winner of everything lately. With storm clouds moving in we rolled out for our 25 minutes of round-and-round in downtown Lancaster...or as the locals call it “Lank-ster.” Cadillac George whispered, “shadow, the sasquatch.” Nice four corners track here. Jungle Jack reminds to “yield to the Yeti.” A couple accelerations by Isaiah are marked and Chairman Fred pipes in, “tailgate the leviathan.” OKAY I get it....hunt the Titan...Chase the Colossus...stalk the Behemoth...Enough Already...how about this Concatenate the brobdingnagian!...Look that one up you raisin-bread eaters!

The plan worked to perfection (at least in my mind), clear dry roads... oops, 3 laps to go and it begins to sprinkle, I’m still sitting on Isaiah’s wheel as 1 lap is called. Raining a little harder now...Acceleration, I’m on it and in third position as we come into the last turn.

The godfather describes the crash as “beautiful, like all-male synchronized swimming.” The giant hits some wet white lane markings, slides on his hip and “ashes-ashes, we all fall down.” Having received the worst of it, I’m slow to pick up my bike and finish eighth.

Chapeau to Dr. Dave, the only Amigo to show up today, raced in an ugly downpour.

More Winter ReRuns...Tour O' Grandview 2006

I guess it was a bit disappointing that the Tour de Granview, scheduled as an outing for the Cat 4 team to race with the Cat. 3 Amigos didn’t stay that way...George called them “the cat. 3 Musketeers” and Charlie “the 3 stooges,” with that biting Texas “s-sound” that W pronounces Evildoers with...Well the 3/4 lovefest lasted for about 2 laps of the scheduled 8, as it was once again the Cadillac George and Marco Pantani show this week in Columbus...please tip your waitress, we’ll be working this room all week....spit out of the back of the Amigo race, George and I did a 2-man roadshow for lap-after-lap, thinking we were the lantern rouge. Nobody told us the entire cat. 4 field was behind us. Mel and Rain-man must have been playing rock-paper-sissors because they never said “sit up and wait, help is about 30 second behind you.” The nice family grilling bratwurst (make mine with mustard, no onions) were silent, the race announcer kept calling us stragglers. Onward we trudged taking turns. George and I didn’t want to make this a tour with a small “T” so we worked hard (not Jens Voight hard, but maybe Christophe Moreau hard). OK, hard enough that I see Pete standing on the side of the road and I’m hallucinating (I think) because he looks like that guy from the Village People doing the YMCA song. Mel waves, Mike gives the thumbs up. NOTHING....two laps to go, here comes Iowa J, Charlie, and the rest of the 4s. Oops, I’m sorry but I’ve left my legs back there somewhere on the course....One of the out-of-town riders starts in on us with “the Raisin Rack, what’s that mean? Is it like your women’s team has small breasts?”...the Iowa tornado was like “Whatever...” But Charlie kept insisting the cyclist check out the “Rack” on a couple of our Stooge teammates after the race....1.5 laps to go and the large health company dude jumps, Charlie marks his move... and we are back together... I’m spit off the back at the bell but I bridge on the downhill....half a lap and it looks like it’s is going to be an uphill race and a long long sprint. Did I mention that the Godfather and I did some real hard work when we thought it was just the two of us? Needless to say the fat lady had sung, and indeed, she had a nice rack....

Return of the 'quote of the day'

We will be returning to the daily quotes on the email group A World Of Pain, but I wanted to drop this one on you.

"The purpose of life is to be defeated by greater and greater things."
-Rainer Maria Rilke (born 1875)

Winter ReRuns - March 2006 Mid-Ohio Race

With all the snow and rain and cold, I'm posting race reports from the old days- ESPN Classic style. Here's one from the 2006 season:
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Just after the start, the Cat. 4 race turned into a forum on American Pacifism and the Christian ‘just war’ theory. Whaler and I were talking about the proliferation of ‘so-called’ Anarcho-pacifists, you know the followers of Leo Tolstoy. Jaybone piped up and suggested that they were no more than Nihilists. “Maybe,” says Pink Floyd (Jungle Jack version 2.0), “but can you still talk smack and be a pacifist?” Interesting query (we’ll get to that later) as the glass shards, oops, no the biting sleet starts attacking our faces on the 1st lap. The 30 or so racers also feel the pain of White Lightning's accelerations up the hill lap-after-lap and Cho-cho Charlie tells us that we have to be joking, because everyone thought the were WMDs before the invasion and jumps off the front for a solo stroll that pops a coupla riders off the back....I wasn’t talking to you anyway. Whaler starts listing famous pacifists like John Lennon, Buddha, and Native American Chief Seattle and I begin to see the close resemblance his facial features have with THE ROCK. I had just watched DOOM - the movie (one star, no nekkid chicks, but plenty of gore) and there he was, Jerry wielding a plasma gun. This certainly makes our conversation surreal because as you know their really hasn’t ever been an “unjust” war. Godfather Conti chimes in and brings up fictional pacifists like Jeff Lebowski and Stimpy (from Ren & Stimpy). Stimpy? Don’t ask, Godfather does a few powerful turns and settles back....how many laps to go? Two, ok we run around the backside. As the boys get jumpy and the skinny OS-shoe rider collides with the 16 year-old from Pennsylvania. More about that later. The COBC train has whittled the field to about 8 riders and Andy makes a break with 2 other guys. We come together on the backside and Bolt-man calls a lead out about 1/2 mile before the finish. forgetaboutit. George powers through again, Andy jumps and gets first.

We revisit the pacifism issue after the race when the OS-shoe rider wants to fight the skinny kid he collided with. I told the shoe-dude that if he wanted to fight the kid, he also has to fight me, because this is a race and crashes happen. I was bluffing, and also wondering if the bluff was somehow counter to the pacifist code? Long story short, Bob Marley and the Whaler circled the shoe-dude, reminded him that he too had made an aggressive move, this was just an accident, and then sent him off with his tail between his legs.

Moral of the story: I was quite proud to ride with this league of gentlemen. Clean and fair racers who defend the other riders and the race itself. Maybe the Godfather was right, the big Lebowski did say, “This aggression will not stand, man.” Somebody ask him to explain the stimpy thing...

Why I now only train with cat. 2 racers

Friday the day after the all-you-can-eat turkey day, and I agree to go for a training ride. The sun is shining and the temperature is 36, but heading to 40. Smart folks stayed inside and ate another piece of pie, I saddled up with Joe College, American Taliban, The ‘young and the restless,’ and Andy Will. Who’s name, ‘Will” I understand roughly translates in Flemish as “tough veal.”

We roll out in an easterly direction, I’m feeling fine, even though I did 2 hours with Cadillac George yesterday (before turkey, mashed potatoes, corn ‘something,’ asparagus, and pie...make that 3 pieces of pie). We talk of the recession, General Motors, Butch’s latest bike purchases, etc. Piece of cake (er, pie) this ride to Croton. After rolling through some pig shit covered roads...note to self clean bike...we turn for home. boing! Into the wind, a stiff wind (ah, that’s why the first hour was so easy) and all that easy rolling downwind sweat was now cooling me off at a fast clip. Plus, I’m really, as they say, ‘”on the rivet.,” battling a nasty block headwind.

I offer to let Andy ride away and I’ll just curl up in this culvert for a bit of hypothermia sleep, ah wonderful sleep. No, he offers to ride in front ALL THE WAY HOME! allowing me to sit on his wheel and keep the needle just below the red zone. No talk just work. Did I mention, all the way home?

Winter Training (thanks to Zack & RATM)

Born of a broken man
Never a broken man
Born of a broken man
But not a broken man

Born of a broken man
Never a broken man
Born of a broken man
But not a broken man

Top Reads of 2008

It's getting colder outside, time to do some core work and read books. Here's some of my favorites from this past year:

1. THE STORY OF EDGAR SAWTELLE, by David Wroblewski - a real story of dogs and humans without all the cute stuff.
2. AMERICAN BUFFALO, by Steven Rinella - hunting wild buffalo in Alaska, but more importantly what the buffalo means to us as a nation.
3. THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO, by Stieg Larsson - a Swedish mystery starring an x-generation computer hacker.
4. A THOUSAND SPLENDID SUNS, by Khaled Hosseini - A bit more depressing than The Kite Runner, more evil that men do...
5. COLTRANE, By Ben Raitliff - not just a bio, but the tsunami effects of the great one.
6. WORLD WAR Z, by Max Brooks - when, not if the zombies attack, one needs to be ready!
7. FALLING MAN, by Don DeLillo - The fiction about the aftermath of 9/11 is certainly better than the nonfiction...
8. IN DEFENCE OF FOOD, by Michael Pollan - everything is politics, even food.
9. CRASHING THROUGH, by Robert Kurson - a true story of a blindman to regains sight, and finds 'seeing' a more difficult life than blindness.
10. THE WILD TREES, by Richard Preston - one of my favorite subjects, the redwoods of the Pacific NW, they predated man in America, but might not outlive him!

OCA declares "Mission Accomplished"

The president of the OCA opened his press conference on the deck of the SS Minnow with his little inside joke, “Don’t mess with Roadhouse, he he he.” Taking a page from the Karl Rove play book, his plan to make the world safe from Tym Hussein has seemingly worked. When questioned about his motive to rid central Ohio of the majority of its road races and criteriums, the president, kept repeating, “anyone that disagrees with me, well, they just hate free wheeling.” Pressed about the future of bicycle racing in Ohio, he would only state, “the people don’t need races, they need democracy.”

Already, large doughy cyclists have been spotted infiltrating the Ohio cycling scene. Their distinctive sausage encased lycra uniforms and foul mouths were reported at local races all year and are planned to be acting as warlords for 2009.

The president rejected repeated requests for interviews, but released a statement suggesting that racers should get a sweet deal like he has to pay for gasoline and travel expenses to races at the far ends of the state and even outside Ohio. “All that travel is good for the economy, and my friends at big oil companies.” Indeed!

Granville RR

A new post-race tradition was inaugurated at today’s Granville road race. Cadillac George and I both brought beer to celebrate (hopefully) another successful race. Of course, with any competitive endeavor, we must out do each other’s selection.

At the start the olive oil magnet and I were discussing the finer points of ‘beer,’ when the West Virginia rider, catching only part of our conversation chimes in, “yeah, me too, I fucked a deer once.” No, “BEER” not “DEER” we were speaking of beer. Yikes! And by the way, this is a family friendly blog, just say you have “known deer in the past.” George and I both made one of those notes to self, watch out for dis guy.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Granville RR not usually an end of the year kind of race, we usually do this baby in spring with temps in the mid-30s and plenty of farm field run off and cow poo to get your fill of antibiotics. Today it was mid-80s, but thankfully low humidity. It would be 4 laps for us 4/5ers.

Chairman Fred lines up too and we try to clue him into the WV guy with a song. George starts with Rocky Top...No no no, that’s the Tennessee song, how about “I am a lineman for the county, and I drive the main roads.” Nope that’s Glen Campbell. Shit, John Denver does that “Rocky Mountain High, Colorado” song. What’s that West Ver-gin-ya song? And oh, by the way, thanks for sending Rich Rodriguez to Michigan, I think they lost to Utah College for Girls in their opener yesterday.

Round we go, everyone taking turns, including the new version of Pascale - Katie (a woman in search of a nickname) our newest teammate. Well, everyone but West Virginia, mountain momma, take me home, country roads. That’s the song, and the mountain momma did plenty of jumping to the front for a coupla seconds then taking a look back only to stop pedaling.

There was also some kid in the race who would mark EVERY move, and continue to mark the racer, even when he tries to pull off the front, following to the left, to the right. It was a like a Buster Keaton silent film for a while.

Chairman Fred tries to shake-n-bake the mtn. momma on the homeward stretch, but he was still full of vinegar and stole the victory. I almost ALMOST pipped Fred on the line for 3rd. Next week my friend, next week.

In the other races, Taliban Andy gets 2nd in the 1-2-3, and Iowa J 4th in the 3/4.

George and I bring out the the suds, I prefer a Belgian white ale to Conti’s Leininkugel black & tan. Sort of like Campy v. Shimano...stay tuned

Long Street Crit

You shoulda been there. Yes siree. Long Street crit is a fantastic day in the city. Food. Live band. Correction FREE food, live band and racing racing racing. Jaybone, Luca Brasi – the ultimate fighter, and I warmed up to some Parliament Funkadelic on the double twisty huge 180 turned ultra safe course. Bootsy wails, “Ain’t nothing but a party baby.” Indeed. About 30 partiers line up for the 4/5 race. 25 laps was going to take us about 30 minutes. Team Dayton takes almost immediate control of the race and you know “…she’s a brick….house..” around we go, back again past the band, “…mighty mighty, just letting all hang out…” Hip and way better than the usual recorded techno crap we race around. Chambers and Allred maintain a nice position throughout the race, always in the top 10 riders, “…she’s a freak, a super freak, she’s kinda freaky.” I hover in the back, comfortable that our 26 mph will drop the squirrels. Both Luca and Boneman take a few trips off the front, “.."Thank You Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin.” Only 1 small crash in the 180 turn, a Cincy kid falls but is not hurt. “…I break down, in a COLD SWEAT,” and that’s my signal – James Brown calls me to the, I gotta say it, calls me to The Bridge. I sprint past Dayton to take a lap in the lead. I guess you gotta get up to get down. Nope. Dayton shuts everything off. I head back to mid-pack and finish there. I seems Chairman Fred and I are just getting our racing legs under us. Anyone want a piece of me - well in October?