Spokes

Sometimes bike racing is the most demoralizing sport there is. Just about the time you start feeling confident and good about yourself, the pack pulls away and drops you on the climb. You consistently place in the top ten as a Cat 5, and suddenly you find yourself in the bottom tear of the Cat 4s. I’ve been racing TT’s now for over 5 years, and I am pretty fast when it comes to smoking the other tri geeks. Today I learned that this speed was all an illusion as I put up my personal best lap times at Fiesta Island to take a sad 18th out of 24 people. I got beat by people that had never ridden a TT bike until today. It’s a bittersweet sport, but at least I know what times I need to post the next time around to build my ego to a respectable level. It’s a school of hard knocks, but for some reason I keep suiting up and getting out there. Just about the time I do well enough in the Cat 4s, I will be set to upgrade and get slapped around a bit in the 3s. I doubt it will ever end. Now on to ...

To my sweet carbon Cherry. You did nothing to deserve this fate. I promise I only put you on the roof of my car to protect you from the crazy drivers on I-15. I cherish all of the time we spent together. Before you came along, I had only dreamed cycling could be this fun. We spent the hours together climbing Cabrillo, sprinting out those other guys on the SDBC ride, and just enjoying God's creation. I cleaned you every week to show off your brilliance. When you got nicked, I repainted your skin. When you felt sick, I nursed you back to health with new parts. You took me from Cat 5 to Cat 4. You always stayed upright, and you never asked for anything in return. I will never forget you. I will always regret my stupid mistake and lapse of judgement. I am so sorry it is my fault you lost your life. The carport was the assasin, but I was the one to put you in arms way. RIP my old companion. You were a great friend.

I can’t tell you how many times I have seen Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. Too many. The telephone booth falling out of the sky into the small town of San Dimas California is an image tattooed on my brain forever. It was a strange coincidence that Julie and I wound up moving there more than ten years ago for a short stay. No telephone booths to speak of, but there was a Circle K right off of Bonita Avenue that deserved a photo or two. This past weekend, Julie and I embarked on a most excellent adventure to the homeland of Bill and Ted Esq. to do the San Dimas Stage Race. Touted as one of the most challenging and well organized stage races in So Cal, we were full of anticipation as to what the weekend would bring. The weekend kicked off with a 4 mile uphill TT with over 1,200 feet of climbing. I was feeling good about myself as I rode past numerous other riders. That was until I got passed by the guy who took off after I did. The effort at the top put me in 14th overall, well ...

My internal clock is still a mess from this past weekend’s stage race in Tucson. Losing an hour at the border of Arizona on Thursday night was an unexpected treat. Even more than that surprise, was the realization that we would never get that hour back due to DST. Arizona just has to be different, and ignore the farmers of the world I guess. I had a great race and I felt like I was firing on all cylinders. The time trial put me in 5th place and I never let go of the spot in the overall. I worked my butt off on Saturday. Chased down a couple of early breaks, and the pack worked together well on the front end to make it happen. I did cross wheels with a guy, but managed to stay upright. Also made a rookie move that almost caused a crash, but after being yelled at, I settled down to finish with the front group. We shed about ½ of our group on the climb into the finish. Sunday was another day of hard work, and I worked with the top 3 guys to dictate the pace of the race. I led an entir...

It has been a while since my last road trip. Conversations amongst four guys on a six-hour road trip can go downhill pretty quickly. When you throw in driving through the desert oaisis known as Vegas, you can only imagine the jabber. While driving, I would zone out, drink my red bull, and count the little reflective things on the road in an effort not to play Pac Man with my truck. A virgin to stage racing, Callville Bay was the perfect spot to break my cherry. Beautiful rolling hills, a pristine Lake Mead, and a small field of Cat 5’s was gravy to being able to race my bike three days straight. Through the weekend I learned that there is still a lot to learn about racing and riding bikes. My 12th place finish was my best finish so far, and I am beginning to feel much stronger and more confident as the year clicks by. Looking forward to the next race in Tucson where it starts all over again.

Once again I found myself at the Compton criterium course. It is pretty sad that I know my way around the streets of Compton and Long Beach now. My three-month streak of heading up to this course is hopefully over after this Sunday. I will have the upgrade points I need after next weekend. This non-USAC Sanctioned race has fields packed up to 125 riders and simultaneous races that become a huge clustered mess in the end when they eventually overlap. The race directors there leave much to be desired. My packed race of 125 kept me fighting for the front most of the race. The corners were tight, but I felt more comfortable than in the past leaning into them at 30 mph two inches from riders on either side. Thank God the roads were dry. I saw a bunch of crazy stuff in this race from people punching each other to people leaning into each other in the corners. I still have a little ways to go before I am gunning it through the turns. The couple of times I pulled to the front, I was pass...

Once again, rain is in the forecast for this weekend. Once again a bike race in the forecast for this weekend. It seems like this is starting a trend. I'm not saying that I don't love rain, and I am not saying that I don't love racing, but two good things can lead to a bad combo. Hoping the roads dry out before Sunday where Julie and I will racing at the same venue for only the second time this season. May God command the winds to cease, and may the pavement stay dry in Compton on Sunday.