Doped

New allegations today in the Operacion Puerto scandal have implicated an additional 49 professional cyclists in doping.  Ivan Basso
has requested that he be released from his contract at Discovery Channel so that the new allegations against him will not be distraction to the team.  I suppose that I could look at these stories and feel disgust for the riders.  These guys are our heroes in the sport, they are the ideals that we seek to attain when we get up and leave our girlfriends, families, dogs, work, obligations to train for hours, they are the ghosts we chase when do intervals alone.  But, strangely, my emotions are more like pity than disgust.  I and all those around me that enjoy this sport make sacrifices to perform at the level that we choose to set for ourselves. Whether we race competitively or occasionally or simply need the long hours in the saddle alone as a meditation, we are sacrificing time that could be spent on other pursuits.  And the sacrifice doesn’t end when we get out of the saddle, it is there when our mood swings because we’ve not eaten enough, it is there when we’ve spent a month’s salary on a set of wheels, it is there when flop sweats and gas drive our significant others out of bed at night.  And lets face it, none of us can even approach the level of sport that these guys achieve.  And for that, none of us can approach an understanding of the things they have given up to reach that level and the toll it must take on them physically and psychologically.  They have defrauded us only inasmuch as we have defrauded ourselves that such heights can be reached with natural ability and hard work.  Sure there are clean cyclists.  But what they’ve not put in their arms they’ve taken from somewhere else and we are the fools for thinking that their performance comes without a powerful and mortal cost.

The sun is out today. I took my girlfriend on her first mountain bike ride yesterday, the day before I spent 14 hours in the saddle with 5 of my closest friends.  In 12 days I will get lost in the fantasy of the Giro, and Tour soon thereafter.  And in so doing, I will contribute to the world that makes demands of riders who will break the rules to survive.  So it goes.

Brevet: round 2

We succeeded in completing the second brevet! Everyone made it with only two flat tires and one broken spoke. I can’t do the story justice today, but it was an epic romp through the Appalachians. More to come!!

Sunday was about recovery.  Nita and I went big at the Waffle Shop in the morning, caught Billy, Richie, and Al at Mad Mex at lunchtime and then went for a little spin in Scotia to  unwind the legs.  Let me restate that, Nita went on her first trail ride ever in Scotia on a fully rigid 29er singlespeed.  Unadulterated by jangling gears and squishy bits she kicked ass on a short loop through the woods after spinning out there on the bike path.  Single Speed Worlds here we come!

tempo

The air was thick with gathering rain all day yesterday. Though nothing fell until the evening, droplets would form from the still air as I moved through it giving the impression all day that it was just starting to rain. AccuJoe and I got out about 6:15 on the road bikes for a little tempo ride out on the Lower Lime loop. Joe was still in recovery from the big effort at Cohutta over the weekend. He had good words about the route and the organization, though looking at the profile it looks like it just went up for way too long! Still, I was jealous after hearing about a long day on the mountain bike and all of our compatriots that were down there for the kick-off of the NUE series. I’m still hoping that I can kick off my 100 miler season at the LumberJack in Michigan, but June 16th seems a long way off.

I needed to stretch the legs a bit, and I knew that Joe needed to clean the valves a bit, so I pushed the pace on the ride, running about 75-80%. And as we rolled back into town we both felt like the legs were ready for the foolishness to come this weekend. I’ll pick up the bike today with new wheels: DT rear and Mavic Open Pro on a Dura-Ace hub in the front. Both are laced with 32 double butted spokes and capped off with brass nipples to give a solid set of touring wheels that will do double duty in the fall on dirt. I also picked up a collection of Cateye lights to get through the dark hours of the ride on Saturday morning. I may still be in the market for a more powerful headlamp, but I’m hoping to be at least redundant enough to get me through the inspection on Saturday morning.

After the ride Nita and I headed up to Otto’s to pack on a few calories for the weekend and catch up on the weekend plans. As per usual, the details of our departure are a bit foggy so we’ll just play it by ear this evening, but at least we’ll be starting off with bellies full of Judy’s mac-and-cheese to carry us through the early miles.

. . . And the Banff Film festival is coming to town Sunday and Monday!  Check out the films.

meditation

It was 46 degrees and raining at 8:15 PM when I stretched my leg over the fixie last night.  There was still a hint of twilight in the sky, like the ghosts of the world still lingering in the gathering darkness that faded like memories.  My small headlight cast only a faint reminder of a local area around the front of my bike.  I’d been at work until 7:30 and not ridden since Sunday so I needed to stretch the legs out.  Though I would have liked more miles or more hours there was only so far I could get on a relatively empty stomach at that hour so rolled out Whitehall, to Tadpole, Marengo, Gatesburg, and home.   There was a light rain falling the whole time and the temperature hovered at a level that was almost too cold, but not so much as to notice it.  Once home I could tell as the hot water from the shower burned my skin; my knees and shins which had only one layer of lycra to shield them from the world and my forearms, where capillary action had pulled the dampness up the sleeves of my jersey from the bits that extended past my rain cape.  Stepping out of the shower I stood scratching at that skin as the nerves re-awoke and seared after having been shut down in the cold for nearly 2 hours.  As ever, a late dinner put me into a stupor and I survived not much more than an hour after finishing.

Brevet number two on Saturday.  300K with a forecast of 68 degrees. So it goes.

insomnia

Trouble getting to sleep led me to routeslip the route for this weekend’s 300K.  So here it is, in 4 parts.  Note that there is elevation info missing from the first map.

 start to control 1

control 1 to 2

control 2 to 3

control 3 to 4 

Pimp my ride

Today’s ride was short, but satisfying. After work, Nita and I went down to FreezeThaw to pick up her new bike: a Diamondback touring frame with 700c wheels and 42c knobbies, and most importantly, only one gear. She had them do a little quick customizing in the shop and switched to pink handlebar grips and a Bianchi leopard print saddle. Out the door the bike rode great and she looked much happier than on the old Peugeot monstrosity that we just couldn’t make fit her.

Once we had the bike set up we went for a quick tour through the hood so she could make sure the gearing would allow her to get between her new place and mine, and to show off the new ride. The 42×20 gearing was plenty easy for getting around the hills in the Holmes-Foster neighborhood and she seemed more and more pleased with the bike as we rode along.

We’re in the planning stages of the up-coming brevets; trying to organize travel and schedules for all the boys.  Gigantor will be flying back from Cali at the end of the week and Richie Rich will be heading down from the north country to meet us in Virginia.  No word on the course as of yet, though looking at the course description we’ll be spending a fair part of the day back in PA as we tour through Adams and Cumberland counties, which will take us through the Michaux State Forest in both directions.

Renovo

The sun finally came out on Friday and the mercury climbed into the 70s. Town erupted as the alumni returned for Blue and White Weekend and the undergrads stripped off their clothing and settled themselves on frat house lawns where the Pennsylvania State liquor laws are conspicuously absent. My conference wrapped up at 4:30 on Friday and I managed to run home and grab Sophie for a quick turn through Scotia to shake off the three days of sitting. A bit of additional conference hosting on Saturday kept me from getting out in the morning, but allowed me a rare opportunity to walk around town on a sunny day, enjoy a leisurely espresso at the Cheese Shop and take Nita bike shopping.

Indecision among the boys meant that I woke up on Sunday morning without a distinct plan for a ride. I was wavering between spending the day on dirt and rocks with Billy or striking out on my own for a long day on the pavement. Ultimately, my mind and body craved the focus of a road ride and I wanted to get the body used to eating and hydration on long days ahead of the upcoming brevets. So I planned on Renovo, which has a fair bit of elevation, but mostly in the form of one long, sustained climb and lots of rollers. I headed out at 8:45 and swung up to Billy’s to make use of the pump that I’ve left there for weeks before heading out through campus. Crossing through campus I cut through the course for the College of Education’s CycleThon, a 10 mile loop for charity populated by hybrids and tag-a-long trailers. As I rolled passed the stadium I got a call from Mikey, who’d just gotten back to town and was looking to get out. So I turned around and headed out to his place to pick him up and we officially started the ride around 9:30.

We headed out the standard route, up and over Snowshoe and up onto the plateau in the Sproul State Forest before dropping the 6 mile descent into Renovo. By that point the sun was high in the sky and pushing 80 degrees on the road surface. After refueling at the BiLo and marveling at rural culture, we struck out again on the rollers along the Susquehanna to Lock Haven and then back along Jacksonville Rd to Bellefonte and home. In Bellefonte we swung past the new High Street Tavern. Tempting as it was to stop and sample their wares, we managed to roll past with promises to try it out on an upcoming ride. As we rolled up to the base of Seibert Hill we caught a glimpse of a bare chested figure, well ahead of us, on a mountain bike half way up the climb. As we rolled along, we could see him looking back over his shoulder at us and varying his cadence. I stretched out the legs a bit on the climb and got close to him by the top, but then eased off to let Mikey catch up. By the time we regrouped, the lead rider was again a 100 meters ahead and looking back over his shoulder. We rolled along at a pace consistent with the end of a +100 mile ride and slowly, but steadily closed in on the rider ahead. As we closed in, approaching 20 bike lengths he would look over and drop the hammer again. As he turned along the airport we were within 15, then 10 bike lengths, but he wouldn’t let us get any closer and spun like a hamster to keep us off. Mikey and I were enjoying the show so we hung of him between 10 and 15 bike lengths and let him fight us off as we approached. After the stop sign we couldn’t hold off any longer and we passed him before heading down the hill along Toftrees. As we rolled through to the overpass I noticed that this bare-chested hard man was still shadowing us before turning off to the right just after the overpass. Despite his $300 hybrid and questionable clothing choices he worked like a son-of-a-bitch to stay ahead of, and then with, us. I have to think that it made his day to keep ahead of two guys in matching kits on multi-thousand dollar race bikes. So well done buddy. Keep riding. And next time get a shirt!

Once home it was a quick shower and then off to El Campesino for a bit of recovery. On the way down I heard from AccuJoe about his race in Tennessee, the first 100 miler on the calendar. Sounds like the race went well and the course was fast and fun. I also learned that my single-speed nemesis , Dan Jansen, was racing a geared bike! That had me cooking up plans for a bit trying to figure out how I could manage 4 races in the series this year, but I ultimately realized that it just wasn’t going to happen. Maybe next year I’ll give that series another try.

The ride total, including the detour back to Mikey’s had me at 140 miles. I was struggling with nutrition a little as I tended to wait until I was hungry rather than just keep pumping the calories in all day. That meant that my strength was fluctuating through the day but I was glad to realize that now and not in one of the upcoming weekends when the miles will be stacking on.

The plan is for shorter efforts this week ahead of the big ride on Saturday. The weather looks to be turning south again, so hopefully we won’t get rained out all week!

gray

This weather is getting to be a real drag.  There’s only so many gray days that I can sit around watching fixed gear videos and reliving the sunny days of the past.

I made the decision to take it easy over the three week interval between brevets, but this is a bit ridiculous. Sunday it was everything I could do to roust myself from a perpetual stupor and mount the fixed gear for an hour in the drizzling rain. While I was out Fred and Billy pulled up on their way back from walking the dogs in the woods. Looking in on them, in the warmth of their car, I seriously questioned my sanity. The only thing motivating me to ride was the coverage of Paris-Roubaix . And lets face it, watching those guys slog it out on through the toughest race on the calendar after sitting on your ass all day is just not satisfying. Of course, the coverage itself proved to be less than satisfying as Versus, in its infinite wisdom, chose to show only one hour of condensed footage which made O’Grady’s magnificent break look like little more than a last minute attack and barely showed the drama of Boonen’s solo chase from the peleton (though words from Roger Hammond today suggest that his solo effort was more the fault of his own ego than he let on after the race).

Work and the lingering weather are going to keep me off the bike this week. I have high hopes of a night ride in the coming days, but that my turn out to be a bit ambitious. Last night was my last chance to sneak something in and I decided to kill two birds by taking Sophie out on the mountain bike. We headed up to the Gap and I got my first chance to test out the new bike on real rocks. It rode well, but there are a few geometry changes that I’ll have to get used to. The low bottom bracket makes it nice and maneuverable through the turns, but I found myself bottoming out the pedals in the rocks, so I’ll have to get used to my new limits and think a bit more about my lines and foot position. At the top of the Gap we headed up Laurel Run Rd and down Little Shingletown to Sand Spring Trail, down the descent and back up the other side of Laurel Run. From there, up the firetower road to Old Laurel Run Trail and down the rocky sidehill before heading back up Laurel Run and back down the Gap to the car, basically a shorter variant of the Three Gaps ride.

It was good to be on the trail, and better to get out with the knowledge of 3 days of sitting coming up. The weather is looking to warm up for the weekend though. I won’t be on the shop ride on Saturday, but I’m entertaining thoughts of Renovo on Sunday.

Calm

Ride plans hinged tightly on the ever changing forecast. A storm of uncertain magnitude hung off of western Pennsylvania and has been progressively downgraded from a sever winter storm, to an annoyance, to just another rainy day. It remains to be seen what it will bear, but the early threats of a foot of snow now seem unlikely. Even so, the threat of 40 degree weather and either rain or snow had me retreating to the woods on the cross bike rather than set off on an epic day on the road.

When I arrived at the shop at 9, the early group was all ready there and Paul led them off within minutes (Kudos for your punctuality). Uncertain of who would be joining me, I enjoyed a leisurely cup of joe with the boys and debated the route and the wisdom of leaving my road slicks on. It turned out to be a small group, only 5 heading out. At Dave’s suggestion we headed over Pine Grove, to Greenwood, down Black Mountain Rd. to Cooper’s Gap and back through Rothrock (route).

Rolling out of the shop we were treated to bright sunshine that would fade to overcast by the time we hit the Pine Grove climb. At the top, Kyle turned back, wary of taking his aluminum road machine over the forest roads. Down to 4, we headed over towards Belleville. Dave broke away at Greenwood and met back up with us on Cooper’s Gap Rd. for the ride through the woods, all the while, smug in his choice to run the big tires and low pressure.

The weather turned out to be surprisingly good, hovering around the high 40’s for most of the day (if you can call that good for mid April!). Rolling back into town around 2, we could certainly have pushed the weather further and pulled off one of the classics. But it was refreshing to be back in town with a good chunk of the afternoon to work with for once.

Who knows what tomorrow will hold. The radar has rain moving in from the west and the forecast is for showers much of tomorrow. We’ll see what we can make of it.

So it goes . . .

There are only two authors whose collected works I’ve read.  I one day aspire to make it three, but Shakespeare wrote too damn many plays!  Cat’s Cradle  was the first Vonnegut book I ever read, bought in a bookstore in West Yellowstone during the bleak winter of 1997.   Working alone in Yellowstone in the winter, the daylight hours spent clad in wool clothing tracking elk and bison on snowshoes, the nights spent alone in a small quiet apartment a 14 mile snowmobile ride from the nearest town, with no phone, television, internet, and a radio that carried only country, I took solace in books.  I used my solitary confinement to explore many of the the books that I thought an educated man should read: Milton, Huxley, Vonnegut, Orwell, Faulkner.  In retrospect, they turned out to be books with subjects and language that matched the cold, dark environment in which I found myself when the sun set.  During that time I devoured the books of Kurt Vonnegut, to which I’ve always returned whenever life turns bleak.  And now he’s dead.  So it goes.

It’s official.  I’m registered for Single Speed Worlds and will be sporting number 23.  I’ve been looking forward to this event for the sheer absurdity of it all.  And though, I’ve met some great riders from Scotland, I have to admit that I don’t know much more about the Scottish countryside than I’ve seen in the movies.  But a few clicks through the sswc07 website and I was giddy at the shots of the local riding. Hot damn, that stuff looks fun!!

Oh, yeah . . . The speed ride.  As far I know, I was the only one to turn up.  Rain was on its way in all day and was pushing over the Tussey ridge as I rolled up to Nixon.  Though I was there at 5:30 I was hoping that the lot would be empty when I arrived.  The speed ride always hurts, and when its cold and wet and there is the added risk of a crash, its something I endure rather than look forward to.  So I took the opportunity to spin alone in the gray false winter.  Soon after I turned off Nixon the frozen rain started to fall.  It was on and off for the next hour as I took a leisurely tour through Boalsburg and Lemont.  Rolling back into the driveway I was cold and just barely damp, but as ever, with a slightly clearer head.