Weekend Close

by Robbie

Friday:
Early morning ride for about a half hour, and then a 30 min. commute. Chris and I drove up to Dillon. Arrived in the dark, ate tasty, expensive Indian food.
Drove around looking for a campsite, all full or closed. Resorted to parking overnight at a trailhead and sleeping in the back of his truck. Should have been fine, but I couldn’t sleep at all. Heard a car roll up around 12:30am, and then footsteps, and then a flashlight tapping against the window. Police guy said we couldn’t sleep there, but we could stay for the night… Then he asked us about the race in the morning. Still couldn’t sleep.

Saturday:
Got out of the truck at 6:30am, but had been awake as far as I knew since 5:30 or so. Really cold at 9000ft when camped next to a lake. Put all of my clothes on and rode to the racecourse, Chris met me there in his truck. Ate a day old PB&J, a banana, a few handfuls of cereal, and a ClifBar for breakfast. By the time I finished pumping my tires, pinning my number, undressing, etc. the race was about to begin. I did two laps around a .58 mile course for my warm up (which I actually got cold doing—how ironic). Really tight, bumpy course. Let some air out of my tires so that the bumpy corners would feel smooth. Started at back of the pack and moved up to the front by lap two. Felt really strong and sat on the front to avoid precarious situations. Someone else got the first prime as I was still moving up in position. I sat at the very front for something like 20 laps, got a prime in there somewhere. Started to get tired so I moved back 5 guys, which turned into 15. Then a crash ensued ahead of me but I had enough room to avoid it. Came into the finish straight-away in position 13 or something. No chance at the overall win.
Stood in Dillon Lake up to my waist for 30 minutes to relieve the knees. Ate a huge hamburger and chugged a Guinness for lunch, yum. Sat in the sun all day watching the other categories race, got the sunburn to prove it.

Sunday:
On the road by 7:30am. Ate a bowl of cereal. Stopped at a bagel store and ate part of an egg, cheese, and ham sandwich + Americano. Plenty of warming up before the race. Really awesome course that wound through the Copper Mountain Village. Totally awesome cobblestone section with a tight S-turn. Felt really good the whole race. Won the first prime pretty easily, pulled the ol’ cut ‘n’ sprint technique, worked pretty well. Pulled back to 5th position or so for the rest of the race. Felt antsy, anxious, energetic, ready to go when I needed to. With 15 minutes remaining I felt a little bounce in my pedal stroke. Looked down and my rear tire was low, then flat, then rolling on rim. Ran about a quarter of a lap (400m, my old running race). Got to the wheel pit, where I didn’t have a wheel because I had loaned it out earlier in the week. Begged someone from the crowd to let me use a wheel. Meanwhile, the pack rolled through and my free lap was up, but some guy still gave me his rear wheel. Chased really hard for the rest of the race. Never caught on but I got a really good workout. Pretty frustrated about the whole flat tire thing… Next weekend, Niwot crit… No accidents, no mistakes. First things first, trash this Vittoria Diamante Pro. Part of the tire's marketing scheme is that you can race at 150psi. That’s total B.S. For example, at the Longmont crit I pumped my tires up to 135psi, knowing that 150 is just crazy. As soon as I got on my bike and rolled two blocks the back tire just went flat. Two weeks ago, out on a TT ride I had my tires at 120psi and the rear tire (again) went flat. Then this race (120psi)... 150psi my ass.
Before I got this tire I had never had a flat tire on my racing wheels, in all of my CU races; on my 210 mile 21st birthday ride; shit, I didn’t even get a flat (on my training wheels) during my whole bike ride down the west coast with a loaded trailer. Grrr. Next weekend…

Weekend Close

by Robbie
A week(end) to go down in the books... despite being totally exhausted.

Tuesday:
Not really the best week ever, some bad lows and good highs. Tuesday’s Bus Stop ride was horrible. The wind was blowing from the northwest pretty hard, and I was on the west side of the pack while heading north, which means I was catching a lot of wind, especially because I’m ten-feet tall. Wait wait wait… let me start over. As you may remember from the last Weekend Close, I had just finished up a long week and weekend of riding. However, I didn’t give myself much rest afterward. I went to bed pretty late on Sunday night for numerous reasons, one of them being that I was anxious about my stolen bike. Monday night, I stayed up late working on a Road Ragin’ piece for VeloNews. I wouldn’t have stayed up that late if I had finished gathering sources over the weekend, but I was too busy riding, and besides, the rider I interviewed (which I will keep disclosed for now) didn’t come back to town until Monday anyway. On Tuesday, I woke up early and went straight to the couch, where I sat working on another VN piece until 4:30pm, at which point I fried up some eggs, threw on the chamois, and raced up to the Bus Stop for some hardcore, shaved, spandex action.

Back to the wind. So… it was really windy, I couldn’t get a good draft (which shouldn’t have mattered) but I got totally blown before we even got to Lyons. I tried to catch on when they came out of the Fruit Loops but I failed. Regardless, I went into TT mode and chased anyway. They didn’t gain much on me until I cracked heading south on 75th, at which point I caught Tom (ex-Full Cycle dude) and Alex Howes (sp?) of Slipstream-Chipotle. Alex had a very good excuse for falling off the back, he had a bruise the size of a watermelon on the inside of his leg from smashing into a car at 40 mph. He had been pedaling pretty much entirely with his left leg, not bad. That night, I stayed up until 6:45am the next morning working on a VN piece.

Thursday:
Ugh. The plan was to do 1:30 x 15-20 sprints. The reality: me soft-pedaling for two hours while I struggled to make it to Jamestown. Meanwhile, Spencer and Garrick were really bored and doing circles around me. After descending back to 36, and after I refused to climb Olde Stage, I really hit a low in my energy. I wasn’t bonked, hungry, or dehydrated (maybe a little dehydrated actually), I just couldn’t ride my bike. After we got up that little dip by the Neva Rd exit I just wanted to get off my bike and sit down, or walk. I couldn’t get my heart rate up, or my breathing. I tried on the way up to Jamestown and I tried heading back to Boulder, but no matter how hard I tried the result was burning in my legs and frustration.
I asked Mr. Neal Rogers about my riding performance, which I was beginning to make a habit of, and he attributed low energy to three main things: 1. Lack of sleep, 2. Lack of food, 3. Dehydration. It made me feel better to hear this because all three applied to my case. I had been eating old bagels that I got for free off the street for three days; I hadn’t been sleeping; and my lips were super chapped from dehydration. Not to mention two full days on the couch after a long weekend of riding, surprised I didn’t get a blood clot.

Friday:
Rode my Waltworks fixed gear after getting it back the night before, beautiful.

Saturday:
Same old ride up to Raymond on over to Brainard Lake. New addition to the ride was Nick. He did very well for his first time up to the Peak-to-peak, as far as I know. He seemed to be doing fine on the last tough climb after Raymond when Spencer and I decided to go on to Brainard, while Mike, Heather, and Nick went down through Jamestown. I still felt exhausted, pretty worthless. I had a couple good strong efforts, but I couldn’t recover and was fully bonked by the time we reached the base of the road up to Brainard. Spencer is 10 times stronger than he was two weeks ago. He was dragging me along for the ride all the way up to the gate and beyond. Eventually we pulled over to look for mushrooms, no luck—just a lost cleat cover, wet socks, and cold knees. Spencer continued to drag me through the Brainard Lake loop, down through Ward and up the backside of Olde Stage. I felt extremely weak, despite eating two of my own Clifbars and one of Spencers. Calories weren’t the problem, maybe it was the heat? I did drink five water bottles during the span of our ride. Who knows… getting sick of being weak. Thanks to Spencer and Jen for an awesome dinner at Pupusas (sp?), first real dinner in a few days.

Sunday:
Last long ride before the criterium in Dillon (9000ft) coming up on Saturday, Aug. 18th. In an effort to acclimate, I’ve been spending as much time as possible at high altitude. Today’s adventure involved towing a B.O.B. trailer up to Ward on up to Brainard Lake. Finally feeling stronger. Kept a good pace all the way up. Passed people, actually, wasn’t really expecting to. Will and I hid our bikes in the woods up at Brainard, changed into hiking clothes and shoes and hiked up to the tree line in search of mushrooms. I bonked somewhere around 11 or 12,000ft. In my dizzy, oxygen-deprived stumble up some mountain I managed to collect a basket full of boletes and scaly tooths (Teeth?). Between the two of us, I think we gathered somewhere around 20-25 pounds of fungus. I dragged my feet down a really steep mountain, tripping and kicking rocks and roots, and eventually made it back to my bike where a Clifbar awaited my consumption. Ran out of water completely, no big deal though, all downhill to the spring in Ward. Beautiful day in general. Feel good about my ride up to Brainard with the trailer, and satisfied with the mushroom hunting. Oh, and by the way, no wonder people hunt pheasants, they have no sense of “fight or flight;” they’re like domestic cats. This pheasant today actually walked with us for a couple hundred meters. The only reason we parted ways was because we made a sharp turn uphill. After the pheasant led us to one of our first boletes of the day, we decided that it was lucky, and that to hunt it would be extremely unlucky. I’d like to go back up to Brainard before September with a tent, fishing pole, and woven basket, and eat sautéed fish and mushrooms for dinner every night.
As I sit here, I’ve got a face full of sunburn, a stomach full of freshly cooked mushrooms and pasta, and maybe a hint of hope that my energy will return for Saturday’s race at 9000 feet.

Reclaimed!

by Robbie

Tom LeCarner, a fellow VeloNews employee spotted my bike on Pearl Street tonight. The bike was leaned against a bathroom entrance while a guy stood next to it.
Tom asked, "Is this your bike?"
and the guy said, "no."
And then Tom said, "Well I know who it belongs to." At that moment he took it from the wall and rolled it back to his car.
Once he started driving he gave me a call, best damn call this year.
He dropped it off shortly after. The seat was dropped all the way down to the frame. There are a few new scratches in the paint and through the stickers, but that is trivial in comparison to the joy I felt upon seeing my bike again.

Lesson learned: Don't leave your bike unlocked anywhere, ever. And, if it still manages to get stolen, spread the word to as many people as you can, because maybe, just maybe, it might be spotted as mine was.

Weekend Close

by Robbie

Saturday:
Long day in a new chamois, and a long day in the saddle in general. To begin, we did the Lyons-Raymond-Peak to Peak-Brainard Lake-Ward... ride. The ride started out with Will Stewart, Spencer Sator, Kevin Selker, and Heather Unger. I had my usual pre-ride meal of Spruce Confections' granola bowl with yogurt (and sometimes soy milk) and a cup of coffee, which totally rocks!

The clouds were looking pretty darn ominous considering we were headed up to the peak to peak hwy. Somehow it is always cold up there and often raining, hailing, or snowing. I felt really crappy for the first part of the ride. My new bib was too tight all over the place. It felt like my legs were tied in tourniquets and for some reason the spandex was squeaking around on my seat. This new chamois also professes a “denser chamois” which felt a little too dense at first; I felt like I had a brick between my legs. My right knee was aching and it felt like I was slipping off of my seat so I compensated by pedaling funny. Ugh.

On the way North on 36 Phil Zajicek passed us riding with another Navigator's rider and Mara Abbott--just another day in Boulder...

Kevin and I sprinted to a purple sign and he totally blew me away. We caught up to Phil and Mara after they were stopped at the stoplight coming into Lyons. They were out on a relaxed ride, as were we, but their relaxed pace is a little faster so they disappeared again. Spencer was feeling stronger than he did last week so he took off on the climb up to Raymond. Eventually Will decided to chase, and then much later Kevin decided to chase. The way that Spencer recapped the events was that Will and Spencer were taking turns pulling just to be gentlemanly, but when Kevin caught up and pulled away they had to draft each other to keep from falling off the back. Eventually we reconvened at the Raymond general store. Phil, Mara, and Fred Dreier were also hanging out up there. They went their way and we followed suit shortly after.

I put in an effort heading up the final pitch up to the peak to peak. My legs felt pretty dead though, I wasn’t experiencing any of that “weightlessness” I mentioned last week. It was another one of those rides (which I keep having) where I swear my brakes are rubbing or my tires are flat; neither of which have been true yet. Another ugh. We continued on the peak to peak until the Brainard Lake turn-off, at which Kevin and Heather headed down through Ward and Will, Spencer, and I headed upward.

Spencer, though much stronger already than last week was suffering on the way up to Brainard. The way I look at training is that it improves your ability to continuously burn matches through out the day. Without training we all have a match or two to burn, it usually goes out after any big effort. Spencer had about twice as many matches than last week, but they ran out somewhere on the road to Brainard. He eventually told us that he’d wait at the spring in Ward. Will and I continued riding and paid $1 to do the Brainard Lake loop.

Then we rode downhill for like 40 minutes and my back hurt. The End.

Sunday:
Rode 5 hours with VeloNews crew and Mr. Zajicek. Flatted coming down from Gold Hill to Lefthand, pinched tube with tire iron, Fred had to lend me another one. Had to chase group up the Ward Wall. Ate a Clifbar. Rode fast up to Brainard. Phil sprinted past at like 25mph uphill and taunted Fred, I tried to catch on but failed. Rode solo up to the pay station. Rode the Brainard Lake loop. I suck at descending so I had to ride really hard to catch Fred and Phil down on Lefthand. Then Phil did another crazy sprint up the backside of Lee Hill and disappeared. Meanwhile I had already bonked and was zigzagging. I ran out of water and ate a goo, but it got all stuck in my mouth. When I could breathe again I pushed my pedals harder until I caught up to Fred and Phil, who had been soft-pedaling for a mile to let me catch up. Then they went really fast on the downhill and I was back to chasing. Then I got a mocha at the downtown Spruce Confections. Then I rode up Flagstaff to go to the Zinn 25th anniversary party, where I proceeded to drink beer and stumble around like a zombie. I think I actually descended much faster after putting down a few beers. Long day of ouch.

I found out my Waltworks track bike was stolen when I got home so I rode around for another two hours on the mountain bike, in search of the criminal. I think I started to develop a saddle sore by 8pm or so.

Hope I'll be recovered in time for Tuesday's Bus Stop ride.

Bike Thieves Beware!

Bike theft is morally wrong on all too many levels. I got back from a five hour ride today and noticed that my custom steel Waltworks track bike was missing. Actually, I noticed this morning that the side-yard gate was open, and I was glad that my dog hadn't been killed by a car, but I didn't notice my missing bike because I was racing to be on time to a ride.

I loved that bike. It has been my longest-lasting bike to date. I'm pretty sure it was the only track frame built by Walt, so it cannot be mistaken. I just put Campy Record cranks onto it, as well as a new Fizik saddle and Profile bull horns.

Pretty upset about it. It was one-of-a-kind. Built specifically for me and my long legs and long arms. The top tube is longer than anything sold on the market, so whoever rides it, expecting a normal 63cm frame, will find that they have to reach further than usual. I hope they develop permanent back problems.

Please keep a lookout for it. Black frame, Waltworks (yellow font), Campy cranks, Mavic cyclo-cross rims, Ritchey stem, Profile Design TT drop bars, MKS road flats and steel cages, Soma double leather straps, Tekro front brake, wine corks stuffed into the handlebar ends.

Saturday's Ride

by Robbie

Saturday:
Long day in a new chamois, and a long day in the saddle in general. To begin, we did the Lyons-Raymond-Peak to Peak-Brainard Lake-Ward... ride. The ride started out with Will Stewart, Spencer Sator, Kevin Selker, and Heather Unger. I had my usual pre-ride meal of Spruce Confections' granola bowl with yogurt (and sometimes soy milk) and a cup of coffee, which totally rocks! The clouds were looking pretty darn ominous considering we were headed up to the peak to peak hwy. Somehow it is always cold up there and often raining, hailing, or snowing. On the way North on 36 Phil Zajicek passed us riding with another Navigator's rider and Mara Abbott--just another day in Boulder... Kevin and I sprinted to a purple sign and he totally blew me away. We caught up to Phil and Mara after they were stopped at the stoplight coming into Lyons. They were out on a relaxed ride, as were we, but their relaxed pace is a little faster so they disappeared again. Spencer was feeling stronger than he did last week so he took off on the climb up to Raymond. Eventually Will decided to chase