Monthly Archives: March 2011

The first order of business for this evening is to reveal the results from my “Making a Machery” competition. Last time I posted, I set up a race between Paul Mach (Bissell), Max Jenkins (United Health Care), Cody Tapley (Whole Athlete) and Pat Briggs (Yahoo?) to see who could receive the most “likes” within a 48 hour period. None of these riders agreed to compete, but that’s the beauty of the internet.

Now, I purposely hid the results so that no one would get his feelings hurt, and I’ll maintain that veil of secrecy regarding the least-liked individuals. I will, however, reveal the winner.

(Photo credit: Steven Woo)

Progger Paul Mach — pictured above, pre-pro — managed to steal the victory, earning 39% of the total votes after 48 hours. His victory salute is almost as bad as mine.

Given that I have nothing better to do than monitor internet polls, I can tell you that Pat Briggs had pulled out to an early lead at 24 hours; however, like most old masters racers, he couldn’t maintain the pace and was subsequently dropped in the end.

Now, Mach was offering a prize (bribe) to get people to “like” his Facebook page, and I feel as though I should offer a prize as well.

Therefore, I’ve decided — after the fact — that the winner of my competition will receive a signed Rand Miller Authentic Trading Card and the opportunity to go on an Urban Training Ride through the streets of historic San Francsico with anti-professional cyclist and semi-pro blogger Rand Miller (me).

I can’t wait for Paul to redeem his prize. I’m thinking hill repeats…down Lombard Street.

The second order of business this evening is to briefly discuss yesterday’s Land Park Criterium. In spite of the promises of biblical rain by that lying bastard known as the weatherman, by the time the P/1/2 race began it was sunny and the roads were effectively dry. I had been looking forward to another wet, dangerous, slippery race and was therefore somewhat disgruntled by the appearance of the beautiful weather; I guess you could say it was an anti-climatic experience.

To make matters worse, I ended up drawing the short straw and my two teammates in the race — Joel Robertson and John Wilk — ended up in a nine-man breakaway while I was left behind in the pack to keep things under control.

(Photo Credit: Jim Elder)

I’d like to draw everyone’s attention to Jesse Moore (Cal Giant), who’s dragging the field around in the preceding photograph. Jesse, who runs his own coaching business, recently subscribed to my training plan, according to Twitterbook.

Unfortunately, Moore’s team recently decided he was still a better choice for the upcoming Redlands NRC stage race than Brandon Trafton (I’m making that up, I have no idea which poor Cal Giant eunuch was cut from the Redlands team), and thus Jesse spent the race exerting as much energy as possible at the wrong times in the name of “training.”

Now, with a nine-man break up the road containing two of my teammates, I had written off any shot at a good placing in the race and was content to talk smack to the poor souls in the field who had missed the move. However, thanks primarily to Jesse’s need for some last-minute Redlands preparation, and with help from a few other guys, the breakaway was caught with two laps remaining.

Well…not exactly. The break was caught with the exception of my teammate John Wilk, who had careened out of the the wreckage of the doomed breakaway like the Millenium Falcon out of the exploding second Death Star.

(Photo Credit: Jim Elder)

And thus, my job became twofold and very sensitive: I had to subtly slow the race if at all possible — without blatantly pissing everyone off — while simultaneously positioning myself to go for the win if John came back.

There’s really not much to be done regarding the first part besides slotting in behind guys who are motivated to chase and hoping they become demoralized by my presence. However, on the final lap I was able to perform both duties at once. After being swarmed in the chicane section of the course and losing any semblance of positioning, I was forced to sprint from about 15th wheel to the very front so that I could go through the final corner first. This enabled me to slow the race down through the corner and keep it slow for just a few seconds coming out — just enough time to give John and his rather Cancellara-esque legs the victory.

(Photo Credit: Gregg Roh)

It was an impressive ride by John, and no amount of team dynamics can detract from the fact that he literally rode away from the field on raw power alone.

I was passed by Bryan Larsen (Road Bike 4 U) in the final meters of the bunch sprint, slotting me into third place — damn it, I really need to do some squats or something. Meanwhile, Joel made sure to be seen celebrating in the background, adding some flair to the team’s victory.

Now, I still have no idea how a break of nine guys with good team representation gets caught like that, but bike racing never ceases to amaze me. Nevertheless, the break’s demise meant a win for my teammate, another third place finish for me — my fourth this season — and a little bit of cash in my pocket.

Special thanks goes out to John for doing the hard part: winning.

Last night, someone googled “why are Webcor riders such assholes?” and clicked through to find my blog. I know this because I read my blog statistics like Steve Reaney reads Us Weekly.

I was taken aback, so I repeated the search myself.

The top four results are my blog. Wow. Seriously, internet?

I never realized I was so unlikable. I mean, I’m a bit rough around the edges and I’m known to be inordinately aggressive at times, but I guess I never realized how bad a reputation I have. I never meant to become the sole answer to the question, “why are webcor riders such assholes?” I want to be liked, not despised! I’ll have to work on that.

I think deep down, all of us bike-racer-bloggers just want to be liked. Allow me to give you an example.

Paul Mach (Bissell PRO Cycling) has recently posted a challenge to his prog (a prog is a blog with a .pro web address, in case you hadn’t heard).

As one of the most illustrious proggers the internet has ever seen, Mach was alarmed to find that his Facebook “athlete page” was liked by fewer individuals than both Cody Tapley (Whole Athlete) and Maxim Jenkins (United Health Care PRO Cycling). In response, Mach has decided to bribe the greater internet with a $40 gift certificate in order to become more well-liked than Tapley and Jenkins.

As of this instant, Tapley’s Facebook count is 101 “likes,” Jenkins is at 57 “likes,” and Mach has risen to 79 “likes” over the course of the day.

However, this is a totally flawed competition, and I’d hate to see someone win unfairly.

Because they’re all starting at different times, and with differing amounts of “likes” to begin with, it’s hardly sporting. This competition should be fair, even, and most of all, it should be a genuine race. Thus, I’m going to see who can become the most well-liked cycloblogger within a 48 hour time period.

This should be pretty self-explanatory. Just click on the name of the cyclist you “like” the most (in the Facebook sense of the word, whatever that is). Do it. It’s anonymous.

Exactly 48 hours from the time this post goes live, I will reveal the most- “liked” cyclist, a title earned in the fairest possible manner. Ready…Set…GO!

Note: Pat Briggs (Yahoo?) was not invited to the competition, yet he somehow weaseled his way onto the start list anyway, as always. Let’s see how he fares. I would have entered myself into the competition, but Briggs beats me at everything, so I figured I’d save myself the embarrassment.

The Rolling Stones once famously sang, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you might find you get what you need.” It’s a good line…as if Keith Richards and Mick Jagger needed my approval.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I drove to San Diego this weekend as an attempt to escape the miserable onslaught of rain destined for the Bay Area. For the first two days, Southern California lived up to all my expectations.

I awoke late each day, ate a hearty breakfast, drank my coffee slowly, and then went for beautiful rides surrounded by palm trees and sandy beaches.

However, I was haunted all the while by the prospect of racing a traditional SoCal criterium on Sunday afternoon: hot, fast, hectic and bunch-sprint-bound. If you recall, I even assembled a graphical depiction of the day’s likely outcome.

However, Jens Voigt must have breathed heavily somewhere in Europe (which he almost never does, mind you), setting off a butterfly effect-like cascade which culminated in a rather untimely monsoon in SoCal. I showed up at Sunday’s crit east of LA just in time for the heavy rains and strong winds to take full effect.

I strolled up to registration, keenly aware how much I missed seeing Big Rick of Velopromo and his jolly beard. I then waited anxiously (and remarkably silently, for me) in line behind about nine Hagens-Berman riders who showed up rather unexpectedly. Their team is based in Seattle, but perhaps they caught wind of the impending, damn-near biblical deluge and figured they’d fit in nicely.

The race started and I gleefully joined the melee at the front, in spite of the fact that I recognized no one around me and felt remarkably alone. The cold rain and harsh winds widened gaps between riders, and the brisk pace at the front felt comfortingly uncomfortable: a breakaway was imminent.

Sure enough, about fifteen minutes into the event, “shit got real,” and a break of eleven riders clawed its way off the front. That was encouraging, of course, but we still had an hour of racing to go and our gap was narrower than Max Jenkins’ biceps.

The four Hagens-Berman riders in the break seemed “CalGiant-confident” that they would be able to control the finale and rode accordingly, while the two SoCalCycling.com riders in the move seemed awfully jumpy and spastic. Meanwhile, the large, looming figure of Chris DeMarchi (Pista Palace) moved smoothly around the group, conserving energy and looking generally intimidating. The most consistent pulls were being taken by Jamis-Sutter Home pro Eric Schlidge, but he didn’t seem too anxious to make bold moves out of the break.

Finally, after an eternity of drinking grimy water flung from each other’s back wheel, the bell was rung for the final lap and the race began in earnest.

With 1 km remaining and a lone Hagens-Berman rider dangling about three seconds off the front, I attacked. I metered my efforts for a few seconds to allay the watchful riders behind me, then went full-gas, straight past the solo dangler. I channeled my inner Dave McCook and pushed my tire adhesion to the limit around the final two corners, then drove to the line in the biggest gear I had.

Miracles happen, ladies and gentlemen…never stop dreaming. In keeping with the theme of practically see-through, wet, animated .gif images, I present to you my first (and likely only) win of 2011.

(Photo credits: Kenneth Hill)

Let’s bring this back to the Rolling Stones.

Did I want to race in driving rain for 75 minutes? No. Did I want to have sagging jersey-wattle hanging from my underarms during my victory salute? No. Did I want to have my first win of 2011 come in a distant suburb of Los Angeles? No.

But I tried hard and I got what I needed: a win.

As fate would have it, I’ll be racing my bike down in Southern California this weekend. Naturally, I’ve already procured a set of greater-LA-area-specific podium glasses for the occasion.

Yes, those are bejeweled Dolce & Gabbana logos. No, you can’t borrow them.

Ordinarily, I wouldn’t be too excited at the prospect of racing down yonder, but I can’t say I’m disappointed to be leaving the Bay Area this time.

You see, I am taking a road trip down to San Diego over the weekend and — though I hardly even ride my bike during the week anymore — I tend to fall into a mild depression when I am unable to race on the weekend. As an alternative to antidepressants, I visited the SCNCA’s race calendar and discovered that there will be a criterium in Ontario on Sunday afternoon: The Spring Classic GP.

Now, I started writing this post last night (before I was distracted by Arrested Development on Netflix), and I was concerned that I might inadvertantly write something offensive about SoCal racing; however, just this afternoon NorCalCyclingNews.com featured a post bashing the SCNCA’s crit-racing scene. This coincidence is most opportune, as I can simply reference others’ opinions and therefore deflect the blame from myself.

In fact, today isn’t even the first time there has been some sort of NorCal/SoCal rivalry post on the aforementioned “news outlet.”

Combined with the recent “NorCal v. SoCal Cyclocross extravaganza” in Bakersfield, it seems there is a natural rivalry between the halves of the state.

Now, I haven’t migrated south for a bike race since the Dana Point NRC crit a few years ago, and the only proof I was even there is this Velonews-sourced photograph of me snuggling up behind Floyd Landis.

That picture nicely illustrates how much of a presence I was during the race, too.

However, I’ve done a few non-NRC races down in the nether regions of CA, and my experience is that they invariably favor massive, meatheaded bunch sprints over finesse- and tactic-driven breakaways. Can you tell by my choice of descriptors that I’m biased? It’s just my opinion, of course, but I have been nearly smeared along the wall of an old mission at San Luis Obispo by the likes of Bahati, Williams, Hansen and Holloway, so I’m sticking to it.

Anyway, given that I insist on finishing crits either in a breakaway or dead last, common sense dictates that I don’t stand a chance at a top 50% finish in Sunday’s criterium.

Then again, I don’t have much common sense, and the course description of the event states, “Course is 1.2 miles, flat with seven corners and good pavement. This is a grand prix race.” That sounds semi-technical, and though I may not have a clue what it means by “grand prix race,” the fact that it’s written in bold font makes it sound fast.

If this race turns out, in fact, to be hella technical and fast, there may be a chance for one of those fabled “breakaways.”

We’ll see. I imagine anyone will enjoy watching me flailing for a breakaway and subsequently getting manhandled by the SoCal sprinters’ teams. That’s got to be the cycling equivalent of watching professional Midget Toss.

Regardless of the outcome, I know a fair number of people who race in SoCal — mostly through my collegiate cycling days — and I hope to see some of you out there. Additionally, if by some miracle I have readers down there, I’d love to meet some of you.

If you see me rolling around in my little green goblin suit, come say hello. Also, I love a good heckle, so feel free to unleash some vulgarities in my direction during the race.

To all my readers here in NorCal: Have fun racing the Wards Ferry RR in driving rain. Here’s to hoping it ends in a massive, meatheaded bunch sprint!

There’s been a lot of talk lately about young riders, their financial struggles to attain greatness in our sport, and their commitment to “the life” as full-time cyclists.

These days, it seems my lot in life is to act as a foil to those characters — I have made myself the Hyde to so many youthful Jekylls.

Truthfully, I’m tempted to write a serious, thoughtful editorial about up-and-coming young cyclists and provide some perspective of my own on the matter, as I am only twenty-five years old myself. However, each time I try to take a serious tone online, I receive countless complaints that my blog has become boring; in contrast, whenever I write posts that I personally find inane, ridiculous, cruel to Max Jenkins, or otherwise worthless, I receive nothing but positive reviews.

In the timeless words of now-Euro-Pro Ryan Parnes, “Dance for me, monkey! DANCE!”

And so, I will give you all what you want: entertainment.

(Photos courtesy of Cal Cycling’s Facebook page)

That’s right, this weekend marked the return of Big Pink, my collegiate cycling alter ego — this time, wet, see-through, and totally animated for your viewing pleasure.

But first, let’s talk about Saturday’s CCCX circuit race, where I was irreverently trounced by the new Marc Pro – Strava team.

Frank Spiteri, the eventual winner of the event, has written a factually semi-accurate account of the race on his team’s website, so I’ll try not to become redundant here. Frankly, I hate factually accurate reports. However, since he’s already written it, I’ll reproduce the relevant, abridged* excerpt of Frank’s report here:

Attacks started pretty early and didn’t stop until Art got away somewhere on the first lap. Keith soon bridged up while I sat in the peloton, content with having two teammates in the 7-man breakaway.  Finally, I [bridged to] the break; just as we got the card for two laps to go.

Soon after I rolled onto the back, I was greeted by Rand Miller (Webcor/Alto Velo) who said, “Come on, let’s go. I know if you just rode across to us you can ride off again. Let’s go.” I responded with the first thing that came to mind, “That would just insulting if I just rode across that gap and then win the race.” The next two laps were spent with Art and Keith attacking and counter-attacking, and the three of us getting heckled by Rand (which seriously makes bike racing WAY more fun.)Between his on-the-bike comments and his blogging, the guy has some serious creative skills.

It’s funny, Spiteri was kind enough not to mention the content of my most vocal hecklage, which came with 1.5 laps remaining as we crested the final hill on the rolling course.

“So, it’s awesome you guys got all three teammates in the break, but here’s my question: who the hell are you gonna lead out?” I scoffed, jokingly of course. “I mean, I know not a single one of you can sprint worth a damn!”

And thus, even though I weaseled my way into perfect position, third wheel coming around the final sweeping turn to the line, on the wheel of Spiteri…

(Photo credit: Tim Westmore Photography)

…I was slaughtered by Frank in the sprint, and then passed in the final two feet by his teamate Keith Hillier.

If that isn’t karmic payback, I don’t know what is. I guess Karma didn’t realize I was being sarcastic; of course I knew Spiteri could sprint. Hillier? OK, I misunderestimated that guy.

Now, I’m a fierce competitor, and I also have no physical talent, so I have to research my competitors in order to figure out how to beat them intellectually. Now that Frank Spiteri has become a legitimate threat, I acquainted myself with him via the signature at the end of his race report:

“…there is simply no better feeling than being on two wheels.” Well…he may be faster than me, but he’s obviously never even kissed a girl. Winning a P/1/2 race must take a lot of sacrifices.

Me? I’d rather share some recovery beverages with my recovery partner in preparation for the following day’s race.

On Sunday morning, I headed over the Bay Bridge for the UC Berkeley collegiate crit, a ridiculous affair involving a 0.3 mile, technical, hilly course just off the southern border of the Berkeley campus. In spite of what you might be led to believe by my recent return (relapse?) to collegiate cycling as a graduate student, I generally don’t miss the small fields and strange tactics of this branch of bike racing; however, I still have dreams about this particular criterium course. It’s short, it’s a constant barrage of tight, pothole-filled corners, there are spectators everywhere, and it always hurts — it’s a crit racer’s dream come true.

When combined with the possibility of wearing an XS, female-cut, bright pink jersey in front of countless coeds…well, I’m sold.

Sadly, it began raining less than 10 minutes before the start of the Men’s A event, and my “collegiate kit” consists of very few articles of clothing. I was wet, cold, frightened, and alone.

So I attacked from the gun. In the end, Sam Bassetti (UC Davis/HDR Lombardi), Jordan Kestler (Cal) and I lapped the field about fifteen minutes into the race. I lost the finishing sprint to Bassetti, which should not be that surprising — after all, he’s a damn good P/1/2 sprinter, and I presently couldn’t win a two-up sprint against James Mattis’ left leg.

Now, the point of this story is not to tell you about the race so much as it is to tell you that Big Pink has made his way onto Velonews.com.

I’m willing to wager I’m the slowest cyclist ever to be published in Velonews wearing a pink jersey. Let’s just hope I can avoid Di Luca’s fate.

*pun intended.

…after all, I am a scientist.

So, I was lying awake in bed the other night when I was suddenly and overwhelmingly struck by an idea.

That rarely happens, mind you. Mostly, I think about girls, beer and science on repeat. Genuine “ideas” come around once in a blue moon, and therefore I must capitalize on my inspiration.

Allow me to begin with a quote from the USA Cycling rulebook.

1M6. Junior Gears. The maximum chaingear ratio for Junior riders is based on age and discipline. Blocked gears will be allowed, except in National Championships. All tests for compliance shall be done using the “roll-out method.” There is no restriction for cyclocross or MTB races. For road and track the limits are:
Road
17-18: 7.93 meters (26‟)(52×14)
15-16: “
13-14: “
10-12: “

We’ve been handicapping our under-18 racers for years now with our “Junior gear restrictions,” meaning a gear ratio less than a 52 x 14. According to USA Cycling, this is an attempt to “level the playing field for developing Juniors who may be at a disadvantage against rivals who possess physical advantages such as height and power.”

Wait…WHAT?

As far as I remember, no one normalized tackling aggression to the abilities of the smallest football players in High School, so why should we take similar steps in cycling? Let’s make this a sport.

Sadly, rules are rules, and it’s unlikely that my analogies to football will make a difference.

However, having been schooled in P/1/2 races by the Specialized Junior squad of late, I would like to try an experiment.

What are the odds that I can convince an entire P/1/2 peloton to block its gears out to adhere to Junior restrictions for one criterium? I’d especially like this to be a race heavily attended by the Specialized Junior team, so I’ll defer to their schedule. Larry Nolan and Co: pick a local NCNCA race, and I’ll do everything I can to make this happen. While the rulebook states a “52 x 14″ gear ratio as acceptable, most of us P/1/2s have 53t chainrings; we must therefore block our cassettes to a 15t instead.

Come on, guys, it’s a few turns of a screwdriver on our derailleur limit screws. Let’s try it out. Roman Kilun, Eric Wohlberg, Logan Loader, James Laberge, Dean Laberge, David Benkoski, Pat Briggs, Alexi Grewal, Mike Hernandez, John Bennett, Nate English and me…all on Junior gears.

Given how fast our local Juniors have become, even while limited by our nation’s governing body, I’d love to see the damage they could do to the P/1/2s when the technological playing field was leveled.

My hypothesis: we will all get our asses handed to us by these young athletes rising through the ranks.

The United States has been lagging in its production of top cycling talent since cycling became an accepted sport. Partly this is due to culture, as cycling in America is nowhere near as prestigious nor as popular as it is in Europe; however, I’d also argue that it’s due to these absurd, mandated gear restrictions. Since it seems unlikely that the USAC rules will allow Juniors to race with a real 11t cassette anytime soon, let’s all limit ourselves and see how the Juniors compare.

I envision fireworks. Hell…it would be a lot of fun, if nothing else, to watch the well-oiled Juniors teams manhandle undergeared Pros and top amateurs, right?

Thoughts?

OK, I admit, I went to the Apple website this afternoon to see whether the iPad 2 seemed any more useful than its predecessor. As far as I can tell, the only thing it’s good for is reading this blog. Still. So, yeah…go spend $499 on one.

However, once I was on the site, it reminded me that my current MacBook Pro is nearly four years old, prompting me to see how much more powerful they have become. You know, ’cause I need the utmost in computing power to make mostly-text blog entries.

That’s when I saw this.

Is that James LaBerge? Jack Maddux? Heaven forbid…is that David Benkoski? How the hell did one of those Specialized kids, whoever it is, get that role? I spend all my time — including time when I should be training — blogging my brains off, and they get the sweet, high-profile internet presence? Life’s not fair.

The organizers of the Merco Cycling Classic have put together a rather cool-looking stage race for 2011, including a ridiculous, hairpin heavy criterium on Saturday which is bound to provide some NASCAR-style entertainment; sadly, I’m not at liberty to take four days off for a vacation in the beautiful Central Valley.

That’s alright with me.

I don’t frequently crash; however, when I do crash, it happens at Merco. 67% of my all-time road rash has occurred at McLane/Merco, and frankly, I’m stoked to have a genuine excuse not to sign the waiver this year.

That said, according to the NCNCA website, I have two options which are totally unrelated to my intended career path as a mediocre P/1/2 racer: a XC MTB race at Fort Ord, or a collegiate crit put on by UCSC.

The collegiate crit would enable me to bring my custom kit out of early retirement (read: a pile on my floor). That sexy garment alone is almost enough to convince me to race collegiate.

However, I’m inclined to race the MTB race instead, even though my hardtail is in dire need of a rear wheel. Why?

Apparently genuine, world-class XC Pro Max Plaxton was present at the previous CCCX XC race down at Fort Ord.

The last time I raced against Mr. Plaxton, we were both Juniors…I think it was 2002. He won the Sea Otter Junior-X cross-country race — 36 miles of sandy, hilly, non-technical brutality — and I placed 5th, likely the single best result I’ve ever achieved. I even got to stand on a real podium with a cool, tiled sponsor backdrop, a feat I’ve yet to replicate.

For fun, here’s a picture of me en route to that result.

More than anything else, the photograph above is proof that I was always meant to be a roadie: white frame, white saddle, 1.85″ tires, 4″ seat-to-bars drop, and uber-light Paul Components brakes.

Anyway, I was rooting through my drawers this evening (pun certainly intended) when I found my old Soulcraft shorts.

It’s almost as if I’m destined for a rematch with Plaxton, nine years later and seemingly nine-hundred pounds heavier.

I’ll leave it up to my readers: XC MTB race, or collegiate crit? Which would you rather see a blog post about? Comment away…