First race of the WCA cross series. My first cyclocross race ever. Switched around the Poprad Sat night to run a 46x17. It was way too huge as I was totally out of my power band. Live and learn. It seems like these races will be all about starts, mounts, and just plain old acceleration. I was mid-pack before I got my second foot clipped in. In between barricades I would jump up 5-10 riders, then fall back again when it came time to use cross skills. Finally settled by lap 4 and was attacked by the kittens just before the last set of boards. 32nd out of I think 67 starters. I somehow thought I was going to show up and win a cat4 race. Not that easy. This fall is going to be fun.
My results here have me thinking more critically about my decision to upgrade to Elite for Sheboygan. Something just doesn't feel right about leaving the comp SS points battle. By our calculations, I have to beat Erich Ponath by 4 places to keep my 2nd place series spot. I know I can't control how well Erich does, but if I don't show up and ride my best race I am forfeiting my place. I haven't gone out there and suffered to get what I want this year, and that explains my inconsistent results. I am starting to feel like an upgrade would have a reverse effect since good results would be so much further away. Upgrading as a heuristic function is one thing, flogging yourself in the name of going faster is something else. Another thought is that I just haven't worked hard enough this year to deserve a title such as "Elite". Finally, comp SS will be a fun class next year with some of the people coming up from sport. And that's what it is all about right? Fun?
As a test to my commitment to bicycle commuting, I was up until 2am last night getting the Gunnar built up finally. Fenders, lights, bells, you name it. While working on the bike I had the A-Team theme song running through my head. The bike has a very industrial "Beyond Thunderdome" kind of look to it. I might have to add some leather pants and a viking helmet to my commuter gear.
9.30.2007
9.28.2007
Critical Mass
When I picked up Rowan after work and he wanted to "go see the yellow train." So we took the long way home and took the capital city trail through the farms area to John Nolen. Many people were running and riding along the Lake Monona path as it was a fine autumn evening. Rowan said "Hi!" to everyone as we went by.
As we were turning left onto North Shore, Critical Mass was rolling by so we had to jump in. I think it was a huge turnout, maybe 100 bikes. From what I have heard they rarely get half of that so this must be a good one. We were back on John Nolen taking up 4 lanes on the way underneath Monona Terrace at 5mph. Keep in mind it is 5:45pm on a Friday evening. Looking back over my shoulder as we approached Machinery Row I could see cars backed up all the way around the lake. Rowan was pretty excited to be in the "bike race." When the chanting started later as we were going down East Wash he wasn't so sure, it kind of freaked him out. I told him it was a song and he was cool with it. "Are these our bikes?!!" Yes!!! "Are these our roads?!!" Yes!! Or something like that.
Some motorists were pissed. Whenever we would pass an intersection cars would bolt left and right, squealing their tires as they sought alternate routes. Even so, I did see a lot of positive support from drivers. Some cheering and honking and righteous fists in the air. Of course most of that support seemed to come from drivers going the other way unimpeded. I think perhaps that our rig contained both the oldest and the youngest participants.
Now that Rowan was certified as an activist I figured it was time to take him home. It gets dark so early now. Not to mention pulling the loaded trailer around town with the SS cross' racer at 38x17 begins to burn sweetly around the 2 hour mark. It was a good ride.
As we were turning left onto North Shore, Critical Mass was rolling by so we had to jump in. I think it was a huge turnout, maybe 100 bikes. From what I have heard they rarely get half of that so this must be a good one. We were back on John Nolen taking up 4 lanes on the way underneath Monona Terrace at 5mph. Keep in mind it is 5:45pm on a Friday evening. Looking back over my shoulder as we approached Machinery Row I could see cars backed up all the way around the lake. Rowan was pretty excited to be in the "bike race." When the chanting started later as we were going down East Wash he wasn't so sure, it kind of freaked him out. I told him it was a song and he was cool with it. "Are these our bikes?!!" Yes!!! "Are these our roads?!!" Yes!! Or something like that.
Some motorists were pissed. Whenever we would pass an intersection cars would bolt left and right, squealing their tires as they sought alternate routes. Even so, I did see a lot of positive support from drivers. Some cheering and honking and righteous fists in the air. Of course most of that support seemed to come from drivers going the other way unimpeded. I think perhaps that our rig contained both the oldest and the youngest participants.
Now that Rowan was certified as an activist I figured it was time to take him home. It gets dark so early now. Not to mention pulling the loaded trailer around town with the SS cross' racer at 38x17 begins to burn sweetly around the 2 hour mark. It was a good ride.
Who took my rag?
Got home last night to find Dirt Rag #131 in the mailbox. The rag seems to have lost it's edge and that makes me sad. Every issue I open this year has more sky shots, big travel, and goatees than the one before. It feels like Dirt Rag has "done the Dew". If you're like me you are wondering where the soul went. No, I don't think it went to Trek. No big loss there. Rather, Brad and Jeff took it with them to urbanvelo. Check it out, it's where the good stuff is.
9.27.2007
Grow up Kerry
Okay. Now I feel small and mean for the way that I reacted to Dan's written opinion. Simply posting his letter and diagnosing him with micropenis without offering a rebuttal is unfair.
I started writing him a paper in my most keen ENG201 argumentative/persuasive style, but decided it would be more human to attempt to talk to him again instead. I tried to convince him that his stance was rooted in strongly republican values and principals, seemingly against his otherwise staunch democratic leanings. Those republican principals being intolerance for one, and his no-tax no-play attitude for another.
I asked him if he believes that a man that owns a $700k home deserves more from the public school system than he does since that guy would pay more property taxes. Should only children whose parents sit in a certain tax bracket be allowed to use the computers at school? Of course not he says. Then he still refused to believe that his opinion on this differs diametrically from his views on fuel taxes and sharing of roads. Giving up on this angle, I attempted to convince him that the more people you have on the roads with a bicycle, a happier and healthier populace you will have.
"I don't know about you," I say "but I like going to places where there are lots of fit and happy people." I went on to tell him that I even go out of my way to avoid locations that might host large concentrations of fat angry people. Places such as church, the Republican National Convention, or any sports bar in Chicago on Sunday. Getting him to agree that life is much more pleasant when the people we are forced the share this planet with are happy and healthy, I moved on. "It is our responsibility as commuters to promote roadways that are friendly and safe toward users that are taking steps toward lower emissions and fuel consumption." Dan agree, but still says that what the bike paths are for.
So in a nutshell, I used every move I know from both chess and logic to put him into a position in which he would have no choice but to abandon his bigoted opinions. I forked him with his own contradictions, then pinned him against his otherwise democratic sensibilities. It was no use. I guess it is biologically impossible to mate someone that is hung like a pimple. Dan must have been chain whipped when he was 8 years old by a gaggle of shaved legged Frenchmen, their large European man parts only inches from his face throughout the beating. He has been scarred forever.
In other news; the Burley trailer got a flat on the way home yesterday. Daddy was unprepared and Rowan was pissed. "Daddy I want to go fast!" he cried for 45 minutes as we crept home slowly with our broken chariot. We need to toughen up the trailer so that one of these mornings we can bomb through the golf course on Odana; angry morning golfers chasing us shaking their fists. "What kind of world are we living in where some crazed biker can interrupt the elitist yet escapist womb of a $65 golf game!?" We have to keep the motorists on our side, but the golfers can lick my balls. Not this guy though, I don't want him near my balls.
I started writing him a paper in my most keen ENG201 argumentative/persuasive style, but decided it would be more human to attempt to talk to him again instead. I tried to convince him that his stance was rooted in strongly republican values and principals, seemingly against his otherwise staunch democratic leanings. Those republican principals being intolerance for one, and his no-tax no-play attitude for another.
I asked him if he believes that a man that owns a $700k home deserves more from the public school system than he does since that guy would pay more property taxes. Should only children whose parents sit in a certain tax bracket be allowed to use the computers at school? Of course not he says. Then he still refused to believe that his opinion on this differs diametrically from his views on fuel taxes and sharing of roads. Giving up on this angle, I attempted to convince him that the more people you have on the roads with a bicycle, a happier and healthier populace you will have.
"I don't know about you," I say "but I like going to places where there are lots of fit and happy people." I went on to tell him that I even go out of my way to avoid locations that might host large concentrations of fat angry people. Places such as church, the Republican National Convention, or any sports bar in Chicago on Sunday. Getting him to agree that life is much more pleasant when the people we are forced the share this planet with are happy and healthy, I moved on. "It is our responsibility as commuters to promote roadways that are friendly and safe toward users that are taking steps toward lower emissions and fuel consumption." Dan agree, but still says that what the bike paths are for.
So in a nutshell, I used every move I know from both chess and logic to put him into a position in which he would have no choice but to abandon his bigoted opinions. I forked him with his own contradictions, then pinned him against his otherwise democratic sensibilities. It was no use. I guess it is biologically impossible to mate someone that is hung like a pimple. Dan must have been chain whipped when he was 8 years old by a gaggle of shaved legged Frenchmen, their large European man parts only inches from his face throughout the beating. He has been scarred forever.
In other news; the Burley trailer got a flat on the way home yesterday. Daddy was unprepared and Rowan was pissed. "Daddy I want to go fast!" he cried for 45 minutes as we crept home slowly with our broken chariot. We need to toughen up the trailer so that one of these mornings we can bomb through the golf course on Odana; angry morning golfers chasing us shaking their fists. "What kind of world are we living in where some crazed biker can interrupt the elitist yet escapist womb of a $65 golf game!?" We have to keep the motorists on our side, but the golfers can lick my balls. Not this guy though, I don't want him near my balls.
9.25.2007
Dan pt. 2
Dan was born in a 56' Chevy pickup and has oil coursing through his veins. We got into it yesterday as he claimed he was nearly killed by a cyclist when he tried to go around him and nearly hit oncoming traffic. I told him his opinion was the problem as it caused impatience and affected his judgement behind the wheel. Today he handed me this letter, I think he spent all morning on it.
As you already know, I believe that bicyclists are a danger to both themselves and the motorists trying to avoid them. Cyclists are banned from roadways such as the beltline and the freeway for obvious reasons. The best scenario within which cyclists may ride is demonstrated by the bike path along HWY 12 where they path is seperated from the roadway by greenspace. This limits the potential for conflict. Happy and safe cyclists and motorists.Cyclists could never be allowed to operate on the typical country roads where there is no path or shoulder wide enough to effectively separate them from much higher speed vehicles. In fact, without HWY 12 - like green separation, without a path or wide shoulder I would eliminate cycling from roads in excess of 35 MPH posted limits. Anything over that and the closing speeds are too high for safety considering that many cyclists are not paying attention to ther "line" drifting back and forth and even riding abreast as I have encounterd many times. Even conciencious(sp) motorists have trouble dealing with such erratic behavior. Especially when avoidance may mean unintended conflicts with oncoming two lane traffic.In the city, have at it. On rare occasion when I'm downdown or near the U, most cyclists I've observed, don't follow traffic rules anyway, I.E. stoplights and signs, ETC. I don't go downtown much so, let the city decide. I could care less.In closing, as a motorist, I pay fuel taxes which pay for roads and their maintenance. I understand most cyclists also own cars and through that fuel use pay road taxes. However, they are not paying when cycling. In no stretch of logic should the "rights" of cyclists take precedence over motorists. Only at the expense of all motorists are most bike paths constructed. I don't see any fees on cycling building better, safer roads for motorists, use what your given.
Look out for this guy. He is the one honking and yelling at you as you do your cruise intervals down Seminole. He also might have a small penis.
-OPINION+PROPOSAL-
As you already know, I believe that bicyclists are a danger to both themselves and the motorists trying to avoid them. Cyclists are banned from roadways such as the beltline and the freeway for obvious reasons. The best scenario within which cyclists may ride is demonstrated by the bike path along HWY 12 where they path is seperated from the roadway by greenspace. This limits the potential for conflict. Happy and safe cyclists and motorists.Cyclists could never be allowed to operate on the typical country roads where there is no path or shoulder wide enough to effectively separate them from much higher speed vehicles. In fact, without HWY 12 - like green separation, without a path or wide shoulder I would eliminate cycling from roads in excess of 35 MPH posted limits. Anything over that and the closing speeds are too high for safety considering that many cyclists are not paying attention to ther "line" drifting back and forth and even riding abreast as I have encounterd many times. Even conciencious(sp) motorists have trouble dealing with such erratic behavior. Especially when avoidance may mean unintended conflicts with oncoming two lane traffic.In the city, have at it. On rare occasion when I'm downdown or near the U, most cyclists I've observed, don't follow traffic rules anyway, I.E. stoplights and signs, ETC. I don't go downtown much so, let the city decide. I could care less.In closing, as a motorist, I pay fuel taxes which pay for roads and their maintenance. I understand most cyclists also own cars and through that fuel use pay road taxes. However, they are not paying when cycling. In no stretch of logic should the "rights" of cyclists take precedence over motorists. Only at the expense of all motorists are most bike paths constructed. I don't see any fees on cycling building better, safer roads for motorists, use what your given.
Look out for this guy. He is the one honking and yelling at you as you do your cruise intervals down Seminole. He also might have a small penis.
9.24.2007
Happy Motorists
I stood peering into the pain cave half way through the first lap yesterday in Iola, and sat down with a bum knee rather than running through screaming like a demon. I finished, and not last, but you can only generate so much ass kicking with one leg. Claire however, was ass kicking at full capacity in her first elite showing. Bruce also should have done well since Sheri was running along side him pouring his gels down his throat.
My decreased saddle time and my injuries won't keep me away from the first cross race next week though. I found a race flyer, so now I know what the lowdown is. I'll race the 4's race on Sunday morning, since my license has a 4 on it. I wonder if I can race 4's and Masters? Anyway, I'm gonna bring the 38x14 and leave the excuses at home.
So I work in close proxy to a grumpy old fucker named Dan. Dan has recently become a full blown Air America Democrat since doing so allows one countless opportunities to hate. Dan hates the war, hates Bush, and hates evil corporations. I'm down with that. I hate all that stuff too. Dan however hates these things because they are easy to hate and you don't have to understand them to hate them. He could just as easily hate gays and "the liberal Jew-run media".
Well, Dan also hates cyclists that clog up the 60mph flow of his country roads. He was pissed off this morning because some cyclist "almost got my daughter and I killed." Dan was passing a rider at the crest of a hill. Like the majority of motorists, he was terrified that a cyclist was near so he gave him 25 feet of space completely filling the oncoming traffic lane. Of course, there was oncoming traffic in the oncoming traffic lane*sigh* and he freaked out. I overheard him telling this to another, more cool headed cyclist that I work with named Jim. Jim only laughed at the grumpy old fucker's anger and trotted back off to work. Me on the other hand, well I'm Scottish or something and pissed off at the world so I chose to engage. The melee went something like this;
What can I say? I'm just out here doing my part, one dip shit at a time.
My decreased saddle time and my injuries won't keep me away from the first cross race next week though. I found a race flyer, so now I know what the lowdown is. I'll race the 4's race on Sunday morning, since my license has a 4 on it. I wonder if I can race 4's and Masters? Anyway, I'm gonna bring the 38x14 and leave the excuses at home.
So I work in close proxy to a grumpy old fucker named Dan. Dan has recently become a full blown Air America Democrat since doing so allows one countless opportunities to hate. Dan hates the war, hates Bush, and hates evil corporations. I'm down with that. I hate all that stuff too. Dan however hates these things because they are easy to hate and you don't have to understand them to hate them. He could just as easily hate gays and "the liberal Jew-run media".
Well, Dan also hates cyclists that clog up the 60mph flow of his country roads. He was pissed off this morning because some cyclist "almost got my daughter and I killed." Dan was passing a rider at the crest of a hill. Like the majority of motorists, he was terrified that a cyclist was near so he gave him 25 feet of space completely filling the oncoming traffic lane. Of course, there was oncoming traffic in the oncoming traffic lane*sigh* and he freaked out. I overheard him telling this to another, more cool headed cyclist that I work with named Jim. Jim only laughed at the grumpy old fucker's anger and trotted back off to work. Me on the other hand, well I'm Scottish or something and pissed off at the world so I chose to engage. The melee went something like this;
- Grumpy Old Fucker: The speed limit is 55 mph and a cyclist going 20 not only lacks judgement for being on those roads, but is also a hazard.
- Me: So if you have a 140lb self propelled cyclist, and a 3,000lb steel box moving at 60mph piloted by an impatient motorist with questionable "ine" levels, it's the cyclist that's the hazard?
- Grumpy Old Fucker: Yes, because the cyclist doesn't belong there.
- Me: Okay we both know that a bike is a street legal vehicle so I'll just ignore that. Have you ever come across a slow moving horse drawn carriage near an Amish community on a country road? Or how about farm equipment. Did you feel those things were hazards?
- Grumpy Old Fucker: Well, no because that is their chosen mode of transport.
- Me: (mumbling under my breath) a dip shit says what?
- Grumpy Old Fucker: What?
What can I say? I'm just out here doing my part, one dip shit at a time.
9.10.2007
Sunburst Sunrise - Great day for racing
Unfortunately I though we were only racing for the two beers that were left in my cooler. If that were the case I would be number one champeen since I won the hole shot and made it to where our camper was parked on the lead-out first. Then half of my starting wave passed me like I was standing still. So I have some speed now but my muscular endurance is for still for shite. Fourth place (again) with a jacked up lower back. Turns out that I have an easier time riding the bike than I do walking so I shouldn't lose much fitness over it. Seeing a chiropractor on Wednesday hoping he can make my spine go straight up and down again.
Two weeks, 58.3 gear inches, and 120 minutes of intervals until Iola pt. deux. And I'm bringing some of these.
Okay so that's a sunset. Thanks Nachobar for the good shot.
Two weeks, 58.3 gear inches, and 120 minutes of intervals until Iola pt. deux. And I'm bringing some of these.
Okay so that's a sunset. Thanks Nachobar for the good shot.
9.07.2007
SSCX 2007
The Poprad has done its good deeds having sat beneath me for around 1600 commuting miles and a bit of training. As a reward I have stripped it of gears and other superfluous parts in preparation for the fast coming CX season. It will be my first, but I am psyched. While these WORS races are fun, they tend to eat an entire weekend. My impression of cyclocross racing is that I can be slogging through the mud on Sunday morning at 180bpm, and watching football Sunday afternoon in my scooby pants. That sounds good to me.
We are headed out to Kewaskum tomorrow morning and I think I finally have my focus back on the racing. I have been fighting a bit of burnout the last 3 races. The many laps at Blue Mound over labor day helped to bring it back I think. Fast solo laps, recreational riding with friends and team mates, and just sitting around drinking beers; it was all like getting a big hug. Go get em' champ.
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