Podium

When I first began racing bikes at age 35 my goal was always to take a top ten in the District Road Race Championships. Northern California where I was at that time was and still is a highly competitive district so this was to me both a lofty and a realistic goal. I would never have set winning or even a podium place as a goal knowing my limitations as an athlete. I finally achieved a top 10 result in my 40s on the long Fort Ord course, a real killer, and was very happy to have done so. I was in a group of 3 towards the end and I knew that only one of us was getting top ten, and turned myself inside out to get it. A couple days ago, racing the 65+ SoCal District Road Race Championships, I finally managed a podium finish. It would have been hard not to. There were only three of us who turned up at the start. The other two guys rolled up to me as we were lining up and said, "We're the podium." It sounds easy, but there's no such thing as an easy day road racing. They let us loose with about 15 60+ racers so we had a decent sized pack, but we had to keep their pace. Near the end of the first lap of four one of the other 65+ guys flatted, so I thought, "Wow, failing a crash or mechanical failure, I'm going to take the silver medal". I got sawed off the group shortly after that, and so had 37 hilly miles to ride solo at race pace to accomplish this. As it was an out and back course I could judge how far ahead of the third guy I was. By the final turnaround and 12 miles to go I realized that he was making up time on me and so started really giving it the stick. I put my head down and suffered. With about a mile or so to go I looked back. There was no one within miles of me. I kept the best pace I could to the line, and miracle of miracles ended up with the silver medal, and a small cash prize. I was delighted, and buzzed with happiness all the way on the two hour drive home. What I never hoped to accomplish through athletic gifts I've managed to achieve through dogged persistence, and a certain degree of luck.

Sew ups

I know that everyone calls them tubulars or tubs these days, but in the early '70s when I first started riding serious bicycles they were called sew ups. They were the only option for high quality tires, and they were then as now a pain in the ass. Back then the best of them ran $10-20, and they could be had for $5, but a full on race bike could be had for $450 brand new. So, in some ways today's $100 tubulars are a bargain relative to the price of a new racing bike. I spent lunchtime today mounting a pair of Conti Force and Attack sew ups to some carbon race wheels. Even though I'd stretched them for a few days they were recalcitrant to mount to say the least. But after much grunting and cussing I finally got them onto the rims. Contis have always been hard to get on. I remember giving up on a pair of Sprinter 250s many years ago and taking them to the shop to mount. The mechanic said he didn't think his thumbs would ever recover. These carbon race wheels will take close to a pound off the rig, and Saturday is the District RR Championships so the pain will be worth it. I still need to mount the carbon specific pads, and a new cassette. Let's just hope it all test rides correctly tomorrow. If not it's back to the normal clincher rims for the day after's race.

2015 Eroica California

I was initially ambivalent about this ride. Mostly because of its steep entry fee. But, luckily, my better half encouraged me to sign up. I had to have a new set of rims laced onto the hubs of the Cinelli due to an untimely rear wheel failure a month or so ago, but otherwise ran the bike in its stock original 1970 form with a 42x26 gear combo, and all 25 lbs. of Italian artistry. I choose the middle route - 69 miles of very tough terrain. The group I left with at about 9:00 contained the founder of the series, a a ton of Italians, and Andy Hampsten no less - one of the great heros of modern cycling. There was a little confusion getting out of town and then off for the initial 30 mile loop out east of Paso. Mostly pavement, but one section of steep gravel road that had me walking just after the first stop. There were so many beautiful old bikes it was like a rolling museum of all the nicest bikes mostly from the '70s and '80s, but there was a guy on a '53 Claude Butler I rode with off and on that was really something. Initially I did not feel strong and was tempted to opt out of the middle for the short route, but pride forbade it. My legs started perking up towards the beginning of the second half. I was feeling really strong on the Kiler Cyn. climb when I managed to blow out the rear tire. I fixed it and then noticed I'd cut the sidewall so I had to start over and use a dollar bill to reinforce the tire. I managed to get it going again, but never recovered the fine tempo I'd had before the flat. At the last stop where there was lunch I was sitting only a few seats down from Andy Hampsten and so couldn't resist taking his picture. The last 15 miles or so I joined a group of 10 or so elderly racer types. It was fun to ride in a group after spending most of the day solo or in short temporary groups. These guys had great form and an easy style that only experienced racers do in groups. I was happy to find myself fit enough to hang in with them, and in the final climb where everyone lit up the afterburners only two guys got to the top before me. A short descent and then we were into town and over the finish line. A very fine event. I found my rear tire was again flat by the time I was unloading the bike at home - perfect!