I just did my first bike commute in Berlin Germany today. They have bike street light, and bike lanes that are on the side walk! Couple things seem to make a difference. Pedestrians are treated like pedestrians, bikes are treated like bikes, and cars are treated like cars. There seems to be an understanding that they are different, which helps. So unlike my experience in Portland (even though Portland is light years ahead of the rest of the country) where if I’m on the side walk I get yelled at by pedestrians but on the road I get yelled at by cars, here in Berlin Cars are aware of cyclist and pedestrians, bikes are aware of cars and pedestrians and pedestrians are aware of cyclist and cars. So they all work together.

Also, most cyclist don’t ware helmets, cars are definitely smaller and street cleaners are everywhere (no glass).

100+ degrees one day and cross weather the next. Oh boy did it get me thinking. I glued my new sew ups on to my new rims (nothing fancy) and checked out the smack talk on the cross crusades site (nothing super note worthy, everyone is still being all gushy and pleasant)

As for training, I hit a slump a few weeks back and slowed down a bit. Work had picked up and I was, maybe, a tad burnt out from riding. But once August hit I pulled myself up by my spandex and headed back into the gym. My theory is that what I’m lacking now is strength, then as September hits I’ll pick back up the riding with a ton more intervals. I’ve also been running and will soon start sprint work. (I coach a U10 soccer team and will end each practice with voluntary participation in my sprint workouts…should be a hoot)

There is one hitch in my plan…work and vacation. Work is sending me to Germany for a week where it’s unknown how much training I’ll get. Then in September I’m off on vacation to…can you guess?…Germany!! This time for two weeks where I know the extent of my training will be long walks and some hikes. I hope to get some runs in but not much else. I will essentially be returning a week before the first Cross race. No worries though, because I think it sets me up for a late season peak.

I’m a take the lane kind of guy. I don’t take the lane willy nilly though. My biggest pet peeve is cyclist on Hawthorne or Division. There is a reason for bike routes and it is via these routes that I get around. So when I find myself on a “Bike route” or as I recently learned “Bike boulevard” (as if cars know what this means) I expect cars to understand the law. They apparently don’t. The law is clear. Cyclist get the right of way and cars therefor must yield to them. There is nothing in the law that say a cyclist must move off to the side so a car can pass. If a car insists on passing they must do so as they would another car. Let’s be clear on what this means, they must only pass when it is completely safe, they must give the car/cyclist ample space and the passing should be done slowly. Is this too much to ask? I don’t think cars realize that as a cyclist it is dangerous to ride close to a row of parked cars. Not only is there a chance of a opening door, but cars, because I’m off to the side, feel extra bold and pass regardless of on coming traffic or other obstacles.

I’m a bit off the “Share the road” theme but I thought it was worth highlighting the extra irony of this considering designated bike routes. Now as a cyclist who rides more than just in town but goes on long rides the share the road possibly takes on a new meaning. After all the speed limit is faster so I really would not feel safe hanging out in the middle of the road. Plus there are no parked cars. So here in these rural areas share the road essentially means “watch for cyclist and pass with care”. In town however because of my middle of the road approach with slower speed limits and the law on my side cars tend to use the share the road slogan as a way to cuss me out. First they yell “Share the road asshole!” as they pass honking and flipping me off. The irony is that when I respond, in as calm a manner as possible, that the lay allows me to take the lane that that share the road simply means treat me like you would another car and pass as such. This always gets a response like “Share the road means share the road NOT hog the road”….Um What kind of twisted logic is that.

Cars expect us to obey the laws and love to call cyclist “Outlaws” but cars consistently drive too fast, roll stop signs and in the context of this post, disobey the laws surrounding bike routes. I say get ride of the “share the road” signs in town and somehow make it clear that on these few bike route we have that it is the cyclist that gets the right of way and not the other way around.

As promised here it is…

Here is a link to more photos of the team.

It has been said that to win the twilight you need luck, skill and strength. Here is how I fared in each.

Luck
Apparently it’s important to line up in the front. So much so that people where already lining up at 6:10. The OBRA Official moved the group along which started a game of cat and mouse. People would race around then approach the start attempting to stop but would get chased off by the official. Some then started lining up 30 yards away thinking they would be safe thee. Soon the street almost blocked other than a thin corridor which was also slowly filling up. The official turned back and walked towards the front the mass followed her…very funny. Anyhow I was in about the third row back dead center. A very unlucky place to be in my opinion.
At the start the guy just to my left in front of me couldn’t clip in…unlucky. Several laps into it I was pretty far back (see skill below) and came around a corner with lots of commotion. A wreck! I swerved and went around…luck (for me). Several more laps on the first corner, more whistles and commotion bodies everywhere. Lucky..again.
Overall luck kept me safe and that was important to me going into this race. Mission accomplished.

Skill
I was worried about skill. I trust my skill, although very rusty for these types for crits, but I do worry about others. To be honest I was scared the first 10 minutes, which pushed me slowly to the back (which in turn probably saved me from the wrecks). I started to get my nerve back remembering how to corner, learning my pedal distance etc. My rear wheel kept bouncing out from under me which was very unnerving but soon recalled some technique I had learned to smooth out my cornering. I felt good about avoiding the wrecks, I’ll take some skill points there. One corner in particular (the last leading into the finish) I was following someone when they suddenly lost control of their rear wheel. They saved it, but the whole event managed to push me wide. As I was heading towards the curb I realized I wasn’t going to make it. I had to jump the curb and ride the edge for a short distance then jump back onto the race. A team mate not racing got a shot (I’ll post soon). More points for skill.
Overall I felt good about my skill but suffered because it took me so long to get my nerve up to speed.

Strength
Hard to say. I was certainly slow early on but that was more fear than strength. I started to get into the groove and had caught a group of riders. At this point I have no idea who’s where or what group this was, I was just happy it was a big group. I though maybe we could catch the lead group as I heard a spectator yell “8 seconds!”. I worked my way up to about 3rd in the this group just when we were pulled. hmmmm? Seemed a bit early to get pulled. As I pulled off it was a while before the moto came around. oh well. For strength I say good, but not tested.

In the end it was 20 minutes of racing. That’s about a dollar per lap. I was bummed it was short but was pleased to be safe and to have gotten that crit “feeling” back.

Well, I registered for the Health Net Twilight crit today saving me a whopping 5 bucks and guaranteeing me a spot in what, for me, will be a chance to make right what went wrong so long ago. It was, I think, 2000 and I had just recently moved here. I was a Cat 3 but really only in paper. It had been two years since I raced seriously and…well… I think the photo attached says oh so much more, if not everything. I will however provide a few gems to consider.

• The Pinarrello had been purchased by my Dad in Italy at the factory. After having the frame for 3 years, or so, I just purchased components for it. This, I seem to recall, was it’s maiden voyage.
• Check out the tear in the panalones. Classy.
• Contrary to what you might think by the expression this is in fact the beginning of the race.
• The shoes are still my only shoes. Oh and I still have and ware the socks, helmet, glasses, shirt, and gloves but thankfully not the shorts.

Quick summary of how it went, and I do mean quick. A fast start to shake off the slow people (I was in back to start). Scary corner on Broadway. 3…maybe 4 laps later I was pulled. Fun stuff. This race is all the more significant as it marked the end of my racing until Tabor last year.

Here is the low down of the Masters 123. It was a calm warm evening and the mood was somber and a bit edgy as the riders queued up for the start. I heard some chatter but not much. Our team (Specialized River City) had about 5 people. The first few laps seem so long ago a foggy video in my mind that skips and pauses. I was in a break early on with three other guys that lasted a good 4, maybe 5 laps. One of the three was the alpha rider. Each time he’d get in front the speed would jump to 30, with me I was able to maintain about 27, another was about the same and the last was slow. The pack would gain, then speedy would do a pull and the pack would drift away. The slowest of us dropped off and it was three for another couple of laps. I complemented speedy on his stellar pulls which garnered a reply of “Well, if we want to stay away that’s what it’s going to take”. A true statement, who was I kidding we had a lot of laps to go. But I guess the point was to set up an attack for my team mates.

Which is how it happened. Sometime after we got sucked back there were some attacks here and there, which I’d chase down (can you tell I felt good). Then a sizable group got off which had one of our better teammates (Karsten of course). Gary and I ended up in the front and nobody seemed to want to pull so we hung out there for quite a while going just fast enough not to cause alarm, but enough to let the group get along down the road. And away they got. This was the packs big mistake.

A chase formed and for about 3 laps I wedged myself at about second or third. When the rider in front of me seemed to fade and begin his motion off for me to pull I stuck to his wheel. At some point people behind would realize, pass and I’d move back into third or second. This little game went on for about 4 laps. One guy seemed to give me a “look”, it was mild so I couldn’t tell what his statement was. Which brings up a good question, what is the protocol for me working for my teammate who is in the break? My theory is that if I’m in front it’s up to the pack to decide if I’m pulling hard enough or not. If I was to completely sit up I could see people getting a bit peeved, so I try and go a comfortable pace that gives the perception that I’m pulling but doesn’t go so far as to chase. I’d be interested in what people think…

On to the finish. Somewhere around 8 to go a nasty wind picked up. The race went from fun hard to ouch hard. With 2 to go I was in the back. I worked my way to front and settled in at around 5th. One lap to go - On the back side of the track I chased two others down and ended up with a gap from the field. But they sat up and seemed to give up. I figured, what the hell, so I buried my head, dug deep down and hammered. I was in pain, spitting and grunting, the field was gaining but I was alone in the last stretch. Holy Crap! I might just pull this off!! GRUNT! PANT! Ignore the pain!….

01….The sign said 01! A guy was ringing a bell…a BELL!? The pack passed me, some seemed as bewildered as I, but most seemed to be smirking, knowing that even though I was correct in my lap count they must have given us an extra lap…something about maybe preventing us from sprinting into the just finished breakaway. I over heard someone say “It’s not the final lap until you hear the bell”. So true, so true.

Needless to say I was jello. I did try…honest, I worked my way back up and chased some wheels seeking a good spot heading into the sprint. Into the long stretch with the sun low on the horizon, little cotton balls dancing around the racers head, I watched as one rider after another passed me. I was in slow motion even sound had slowed. I passed the finish and rode in silence. That was a hard race.

I felt good though, I worked hard, and felt strong…even if the results are lacking.

Hard to know where to start. After six weeks of Tabor where, although each race was short, the mush was in my lungs and legs, I have returned to PIR and today my mind went numb. PIR is an all together different race. I’m always looking around, moving around, assessing the situation. My team “Specialized River City Bicycles”, tends to have a good showing of riders all quality riders and some super stars. (Check out the stats if you want to know who I’m talking about.) This alone makes PIR a blast. Here are the highlights of today from the blur of my mind.

Race seemed faster than I remember 6 weeks ago, are people in better shape?

We did 19 laps…is this correct? I forget.

I hung out in front for most of the race chasing down breaks and letting gaps build when riders where out front (Karsten mostly, I don’t know how he did it, but he was in every single friggen’ break!) . I love this because you have to be subtle, getting in front and letting a small gab build, if people pass, I’d jump on their wheel. Basically it was my job to create a bit of confusion without the pack condemning me for blatant blocking. It’s a fun game.

Somewhere in the last 5 laps I ended up with a group of 10 or so that got away. We had three team members. We pace-lined well for half a lap and then it seemed to falter, then it would regain, falter, regain etc. Soon we got caught.

Soon after that, very soon I was in another break (Karsten was there) and again we pace-lined well. One guy was saying to keep it steady and not to over due the pace. I think this resulted in a lack luster effort and soon we were getting caught. Just before we got sucked in I heard him say “We can pick it up a bit guys”…too late.

2 laps to go. Pretty much a blur. My legs felt tired but solid. Karsten, again, got away. We had several members up front waiting to see if the pack was going to catch them. This was a fun moment for me because it felt kind of suspenseful. Here we on the final lap. A teammate was off the front. The rest of us queued up near the front to lead out Joe (our Sprinter) in case the pack did catch Karsten. As we approached the final corner the break away was safely away and it became every man for himself. I was hoping Joe was behind me but I didn’t see him (I’m pretty sure he was already heading towards the finish).

It was chaos as usual. Guys shooting off on the left and then it completely opened up, people everywhere. I was standing and sprinting but decided to sit and hammer in. It was a good race and I was done.

I gotta say, PIR is fun but I think for me this team I’m on makes it REALLY fun.

I mentioned my grunting in the final Tabor. Well, here it is, at least in photo form. In my defense, it would appear by the faces that the others are grunting as well.

I kind of look mean as if I’m attacking the hill but at this point I recall it being more about “Oh God, Oh God I think I’m going to throw up!”

It was hot and I was dragging my ass up to Tabor. My mood was less than enthusiastic it was a death march to an inevitable destiny of eating humble pie. What keeps me going are the few friends who are there and who joyously cheer my name, it’s what gets me there and it’s what keeps me from a DNF. (more on that in a moment)

A quick rant though….

Masters 40+ did 7 laps AGAIN! Last week it was because the “5’s where too slow” this week it was because “there were a lot of women”. This week the woman got 8 laps for the first time. Ok, ok, yes I’m crying over 1 measly lap but for me this is about expectations and if this happened for one race I might be more accepting but every race? Maybe the web site should be changed to say 7 laps (8 if your lucky). I’m considering racing the 3’s next year, that way if they reduce the laps I’m still getting more than 7.

Rant done

The race…today was definitly different, maybe it was the heat maybe it was that the 1,2’s warming up in the Masters where feeling a bit more spunky but the speed felt fast. On the 3rd lap I seriously debated quiting. My legs hurt, my mind was tired and I thought why oh why am I doing this to myself? But those friends I mentioned earlier, would shout my name and I would forge ahead determined that if I was going to DNF it was going to be because I had nothing left and not because my will had wussed out.

I spent a couple of laps up front…I just like it there…but about mid way (lap 4?) I fell back and sat in. Did you know it’s easier in the back? Who knew? So there I sat, resting, until 2 laps to go. I moved up…a bit to fast and turned the top corner in second place. The first place guy sat up and the pack came to a crawl. Nobody wanted to lead (I’ve made that mistake before). Then someone took the charge and I fell in at about 4th. We sped down the hill and into the flat (The same poor chap in front). Before the base of the hill the guy in front started looking around for some help, sorry dude not yet. Up the hill we started. Then people started to move. I kept saying to myself, dig down Derwyn, get up this hill in good position then for the final lap maybe there’s a chance. (Am I an optimist or what) Well, guess what, remember the poor chap in front? As the pack flowed around his limp body I got stuck on his wheel. Crap! I tried to pull around, but guy after guy came flying by, I didn’t want to pull out too fast. Finally I got around, I was about mid pack maybe further. I hammered up past the playground and into the turn. I took the turn tight (most people seem to go wide but taking it tight on the inside works just as well). I forget exactly where I was but as we made it down the hill I was about 6th on the inside coming very close to the fences down by the reservoir. I remember passing the gate pole just before the climb and thinking that would not be a good thing to run into. Up the hill and off we go. Some stand, some sit, I stand. My gear feels good. Some people pass me, I pass some people, I feel like I’m all over the place, my bike is a bit bouncy (I’ve been told I need a longer stem) My breathing gets heavier, some who once stood now sit, while others who sat now stand. I’m still with a group, it’s kind of chaotic, I’m sure I’m not making it any more sane. Approaching the top I’m still standing, my gear is getting too hard, I’m mashing and not spinning anymore. The pack has thinned out, I don’t know where I’m at but I keep going like my life depends on it. My breathing becomes much more audible as I start to grunt (kind of embarrassing). I’m still passing some people who I think looked at me as if to say “Dude, your killing yourself for top 15th…if your lucky”. But I don’t care, I’m thinking about next year and I’m sprinting for the win.

I’ll be curious where I ended up (8th! Sweet!). I felt good about it though and that is all the matters. Next year I will be ready, I will be stronger and I will win one. Not sure at this point if I’ll be in the Masters or the 3’s but I will win one….or at least a preem.

I will now return to PIR and turn my gaze towards cross. I’m feeling good about my prospects.