My Superbowl weekend in Harrisonburg, VA inspired the cycling version of the Superbowl Advertisement. Such as. . .
Amazing how roots on mountain bike trails can withstand years of pounding without budging. They simply brush aside the dirt and sand, stubbornly exposing more of themselves and just taking the bike whipping we give them. Poet Pablo Neruda asks, "Why do trees conceal/ the splendor of their roots?" and I would say to Pablo, you are looking at the wrong trees.
We live on the coastal plain of Virginia, so it is difficult to train here for technical limestone that we will encounter next weekend in the Shenandoah mountains. I have found a reasonable way to prepare for rocky climbs and descents is to train on Tidewater roots like many of those exposed on trails at York River State Park (left).
Volunteers have re-routed some of the rooty sections there lately, but frankly lots more needs to be done for the overall health of the trail. I am watching EVMA website for the next trail maintenace day at York River because I want to help out there. But until more re-routing, great rock training.
Dead wood on the other hand is a different story. Susan had not been to the park in 5 years, so today we rode to the site where she and I built a log jump 10 years ago. We were cleaning up that day with EVMA after a storm, and there were lots of fallen trees. Don Peterson assisted us with a chainsaw, and we completed a log jump about 3 feet high and 4 feet long.
At left, we are standing on the path with the log jump under our feet. It has been beaten and pushed back into the earth from which it came. It was solid as steel that first day, but I have watched it diminish back to smooth trail over the years. At left, Susan holds the only remaining log piece. Nothing gold can stay. . . .
(Deidre Winfied and Randall Root racing men's 1-3 race at VACX on Saturday. Photo by Wes Cheney.)
A woman in my view ascends to hero status when she can compete with the men. This can be seen as flawed thinking to many, but I really can’t help myself. I feel this way mostly because there are still so many inequities in the world of female racing. It starts with purse, of course. Yes, it is rare for the pro/elite women’s purse to equal or even be half of the pro men’s purse. We as promoters on Tripower bow to those unwritten rules that dictate the largest possible men’s pro purse, and when we consider the women’s purse, we are more about making sure elite women get paid more than the amateur men rather than making sure they are equal to the pro men.
I agree to this method mostly because of the numbers game—we just don’t get high numbers of pro-elite women who travel to Hampton Roads (aka The Island) to race, so in the past, we have paid some pretty big numbers to women with a low turnout. I also agree to it because, heck, the NRC and UCI races do not set a good example to lower tiered races like ours. NRC and UCI races are guaranteed the very best women in the country, but they still have purses that are half the payout of men. I think most are familiar with the payout vs. turnout debate, but the whole catch-22 of the situation stifles women’s cycling at all levels. It is an old debate but one I think we need to continue to revisit for solutions.
So the very best women enter the men’s races. I know enough about cycling to understand that purse is just one reason women enter men’s races. It has more to do with having stiffer competition so as to prepare them for the world class women’s events. What I love about Deidre is that she gave full honor to the women’s race that same day which she did 2 hours prior to the men’s race. You can tell by her lap times: she had an average time of 16.7 compared with 16.9 in the men’s race. It makes sense that her average pace in men’s race would be higher since she had more competition to push her and pace with, but it’s clear to me that she gave 100% to the women’s race even though she was riding with a significant gap over second place. That’s one more blade planted in the grass ceiling of cyclocross.
See Race Results
Mike Hosang hits the thin bridge at Freedom Park.
I have made several false starts in the past to write about Mike. He is not someone you know or even talk to, Mike is someone you experience. I will work on explaining that in a future post.
I am holding cross training sessions over here if anyone is interested. That’s Robert Sawyer doing field squats with his new team, City De Norfolk 506 Wastewater Crew.
He is practicing the victory salute here. Not sure he'll ever need to use it, but it's good to be prepared.
Most of us ride for ourselves. After all, the bike is designed for individual pursuits. It played a role in women achieving independence, and it has born many heroes of massive individual efforts, including nearly 100 years of Tour de France champions, and those competing in 24-hour solo races and Race Across America at break neck speeds. We depend on it for stress relief, exercise, adventure, competition. All fine, but I try not to get any grand ideas that other people are benefiting from my riding since it’s all essentially a personal high.
So when a cyclist comes along and makes much of his bike riding about those outside of himself, it is something to notice. Wes Cheney is awarded Time/ bikevoice's Person of the Year for his bike service to others. It seems that every move he makes on the bike is one of social consciousness and effort to make the world a better place. For example, he—
equipment, shot, edited and submited to film festival a documentary film "Epic" of our Superbowl Sunday weekend. As Kevin said, you sacrifice a lot on rides when you concentrate on documenting others and not on the workout.See 2007 Person of the Year
See 2006 Person of the Year
When Sean has an extra wheel, he puts it in the pit. Like pictured here for this weekend's muddy VA state cyclocross championships at Mt. Trashmore in VA Beach.
Everybody knows that extra wheels never go uncycled as long as there is "pit shit" as Walt calls it. Sean with his pit wheel satisfies our sense of industry, of utility, of the rugged individualism embodied in cyclocross. Sean against the backdrop of mud stands strong behind his clean pit wheel, both ready to roll.
(Photo by BJ Samuel. See more race photos in Bob and BJ's gallery.)
While you guys were racing, I was browsing some new displays at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. I saw the pit wheel wholly out of its element there. Artist Marcel Ducamp built his first version of "Bicycle Wheel" in 1913, but it was lost, likely because someone needed a pit wheel or a stool, one.
This 1951 version combines two "mass produced parts. . . creating a sort of nonfunctional machine. . . . He subverted established notions of the artist's craft and the viewer's aesthetic experience." That means he was tired of the pit shit but didn't want to sit around either, so he bonded the objects in a mutually dysfunctional retirement for us to sort of perversely enjoy. It purposely turns around our pit wheel sense of industry, utility and individualism, and if we want to sit to ponder it, too bad, no stool.
(Read the entire placard of "Bicycle Wheel.")
First things first, I need to lose weight. 145 is where I am, 135 is where I need to be. It is so easy to get comfortable with extra, which would be fine if I weren't trying to climb mountains and hang with fast people.
I took sort of a poll. I declared that I needed to lose weight to 10 people and took note of responses. Not one of them put up a fight. The most poignant remark: I am glad you have made this choice. The most diplomatic: Your body fat is what matters. The most telling: silence. . . !
I am not exactly trying to fit into a bikini, but the goal is to get myself comfortably into a size 8 Speedo that is sitting in the drawer. It should be noted that I have not weighed 135 since the 1980's.
Like so many others, I checked radar pre-dawn on Saturday morning. There was indication that the Laskin Conte's ride would be incubated from the nasty rain band moving from the south. I drank coffee with my teammate/neighbor Chad and his adorable baby, then pushed out of the house at 8am to be there in time for the 2nd of 3 legs of the Conte's ride.
DBI infects different riders every time the weather is extreme. The bike looks larger than it really is, taking on an importance above all reason. Once rider has satisfied bike with Conte's ride, the brain builds up the cells necessary to combat the urge which occurs only once in each individual. One can then get up Saturday morning, peak out the window, take note the storm, return to bed. A certain weatherman is the only known person to have been infected with DBI more than once.
Susan has been vacationing in Japan for three weeks. In her absence, I have pulled some dog duty over her house. Sunday I was wandering about, trying to decide what to do since there was no one there to talk to. It occurred to me that I have known Susan for 14 years and have never inspected her medicine cabinet. I opened it and zeroed in on the lip balm.
Wow, 2 things of lip balm on the same shelf, as if that was its place in the house. Imagine, rushing off to a ride and knowing just where to reach for the lip balm.
At my house, I keep my lip balm (mostly) in a kitchen drawer and rarely can I find it. I have probably 6 tubes floating around the house but usually can't put my hands on even one when pushing off for a ride.
I moved on to inspect Susan's sock drawer where I found cycling socks resting comfortably, all paired up and ready to go.
I contemplated the many rummages through my own "sock" drawer as I am trying to get out the door for a ride. . . . scattered, one black, another red, no grounding of the other. . . .tossed, no reflection of self. . . . Tell me these drawers are not the template of a sick mind.
Next up, I opened Susan's kitchen pantry where I found her water bottles. It appeared organized, but every time I reached in there to grab for detergent or a trash bag, I'd hit a water bottle and it would fall out.
To know me is to know this: when I am acting all serious or uptight, that means things are normal and I may even be bored. When I am laughing hysterically, those are the most serious situations to me.
So Carol and I were JRA after just finishing 2 pre-ride loops on Tidewater Mountain Bike Challenge course before the race tomorrow. We had ridden the technical course without incident and had just finished a conversation with Penny about how low speed spills can sometimes be the most dangerous.
So as Carol would say, I just had to be competitive, so I started popping wheelies on the way back to the car. There was the implied invitation for Carol to compete, so she did, and on the third try, her Specialized slung her
backwards onto the chunky gravel. She hit with the pumped thud of a dropped crowd surfer. She froze spread eagle in classic wind-knocked-out-of-you fashion, though for those 20 seconds, it was not clear to me if that's what was wrong since the symptons are similar to punctured lung. I tended to her with one hand and grabbed for my phone with the other as she sought desperately for oxygen.
The phone wasn't in my pocket but my camera was, so as she came to, I said "stay still" and laughed my head off as I snapped shots. Turns out the force ripped her foot right out of clippped-in shoe as if she'd been raptured up right there from the woods in Croaker, VA. I am glad she's ok, and I think she has known me long enough to not misinterpret my laughter during the whole drive home!
Sally and Mike 
Bress Pawn in Norfolk has a tandem for sale that is way overpriced. I heard from Josh that Mike had wanted to have a tandem waiting for him and Sally as they left their wedding reception, but Bress wanted too much. Honestly, I think Sally preferred the pedicab! (photo by BJ Samuel) 
Friday's rehearsal: Sally's brother Nick and girlfriend Charlotte; Parents Pete and JoAnne; Mike's daughter Sarah; Sally and Mike.
Just last weekend, Nick and Mike completed Ironcross, and Sally completed a 24 hour adventure race with Pete on support crew. Wedding weekends are much easier!
Pete knew he could not get away with this on wedding day, so he wore it to the rehearsal.
In other family news, Meaghann and son Zach both completed Ironcross last weekend. Zach, 14, is the youngest to ever complete the race. He has raced for 2 years, and Meaghan says that he has been drawn to the bike since he was a toddler. He read Lance's "Not About the Bike" book in 4th grade and hasn't turned back since.
Meaghann is a long-time runner who competed in high school. She broke both feet during a very chilly New York cross country meet, and the timing of the injury kept her from collegiate running. So instead, she rode tandem across the United States when she was 18, then put the bike away for a spell. She then competed in recreational running for the next 2o years. She recently got back onto the bike and finished the difficult Ironcross with Zach cheering her into the finish.
Also representin' the sport--
PEDL HRD= Matt Keane
BELL LAP= Mike Virden
I DROPU= Keith Johnson
I got my first massage in years this week in preparation for Ironcross. Robin literally walked all over my back (as demonstrated here with Dominic). She balances on the ceiling bars and does a high pressure foot massage on the back, butt and legs. WHAT?! So worth the money.
These hot custom bags were year end gifts designed by Anette for Laura and BJ. The bags were stuffed with ride essentials--lipstick and sunblock--not tire levers or CO2 cartridges.
