I can't promise any entertainment value from them, but I kept notes on my weekend:

Friday, 4:29am:  Huh...I'm awake.  Body is tired but my head won't go to sleep.  Got up and did a bunch of work.  Needs to get done anyway, since I'm leaving for Bend at 10:00.

7:30am:  Work nearly done, pause and get kids up for school.  So cute when they're sleeping.  I am going to miss them while I'm gone for the weekend.

7:45am:  Kids happily eating breakfast while I make their lunch for the day.  I remind them (with a very positive tone) that I'll be leaving while they're at school and be home Sunday at lunch time.  Mette starts to cry, and comes over to give me a hug.  Ouch.

8:30am:  Walked girls to school.  Hugs and kisses.  I get all choked up as I see a little body walk away from me into the school.  I know I'm only gone for the weekend, but I will miss them.

9:00am:  Pack my bags.  I actually prepared for this yesterday, so it was easy.

9:30am:  Time to load up the bikes.  Hmmm, bike 'A' is still dirty from USGP last week, and it's a lot more dirty than I thought it was.  I've been waiting for a non-freezing day to wash it, but the weather has stayed cold all week.  I scrub the PIR crust off with warm water and load it on the car.  Glad bike 'B' is clean.

10:00am:  Gather race wheels...hmmm, I ruined my tubeless rear wheel at Barton a few weeks ago, and I've been too busy to build a replacement.  All the photos from Bend are showing a hard, bumpy, icy course, so I would rather not ride clinchers.  What to do?  My tubular wheels need to be reglued, so they're out.  The race wheel is missing a spoke - nipple pulled clear through the rim so there's no replacing it.  I wonder...what if I trued my race wheel up with 31 spokes?  Would it hold for 45 minutes?  I'll try it.  I'll pre-ride the course this evening and only ride it on race day if it's completely true after I put it through its paces.  I pack a clincher along for backup.

11:00am:  Wheel ready to go, everything is packed.  A couple "urgent" work matters present themselves, so I'm delayed a little longer.

12:00pm:  I'm off for Bend!  Pick up Hugh and Monty and we're on our way.

1:00pm:  I remind my travel companions we will not be stopping for chicken nuggets.

1:30pm:  I remind my travel companions we will not be stopping for chicken nuggets.

2:00pm:  I remind my travel companions we will not be stopping for chicken nuggets.

2:30pm:  I remind my travel companions we will not be stopping for chicken nuggets.  It never gets old!  For me.

3:30pm:  Arrive at Richard's house (thanks Richard).  Nice setup.  We unpack and I get dressed for the race course.

4:00pm:  Course pre-ride.  31 spoke race wheel performs just fine.  Good thing, too, because I want to ride tubeless in all this ice.  There is some tricky stuff out here on the icy course.  I ride and re-ride a few sections to get it figured out. 

4:45pm:  After about four laps, the rear wheel spontaneously snaps and fails into an all too familiar taco shape.  Of course it did, what was I thinking?  I'm done with my course preview.  It's dark, anyway, and I can't see where I'm going anymore. 

6:00pm:  Quick trip to the house, change into normal clothes and put the bikes away.  We go to downtown Bend and have some sweet Thai food (green curry!), check out the Vanilla bikes on display at a coffee bar and the PDXcross photos at TBD.  Nice night.

10:00pm:  Ready for an early night, gotta get some sleep for tomorrow's race.  But then there's an "emergency" from a client of mine and requires my help.  All I have with me is a cell phone, so all I can do is walk this person through fixing a SQL Server database problem. 

11:30pm:  Still getting calls.  I am less than pleased.

12:00am:  Going to bed, head spinning.  Big day tomorrow.

 

Saturday, 4:29am:  I'm wide awake.  Again!  I lay in bed wondering why this has happened two days in a row.  I do the math, trying to solve an unsolvable algorithm.  

7:00am:  Hey...4-29 is my birthday.  Coincidence?  Having solved the equation, I get up for some breakfast.  Groggy.

10:00am:  Off to the race course to pick up my number.  Sign in went smoothly.  Number 853.  Kind of cool how the last two digits add up to equal the first.  Right?  I think I'm a nerd.

10:30am:  Pin numbers on the skinsuit.  I hate pinning numbers, especially these damn sleeve numbers.  You know how a girl scout troop or some kids could make a butt-load of money at a race like this?  Set up a number pinning tent.  $5 to pin your numbers on.  They would make a killing.

11:00am:  Dressed is warm-up clothes, take bike 'B' to the pit.  I hope I don't need to use it.

11:40am:  Course looks open.  Yup, people are riding.  I pre-ride the course for one hour and fifteen minutes.  The more nervous I get, the more laps I do.  That was a little too much.

1:00pm:  Change into dry shoes and get on the rollers to warm up for my 2:00 race.  I am already warm.  Actually, I am kind of tired from all those pre-ride laps.  I forced myself to do some high RPM spin intervals to get the legs moving again, but I feel all rubbery and flat.

1:45pm:  Time to head down to the course.  I do some quick practice starts and I'm happy to be feeling snappy again.

1:55pm:  Staging for the big race.  I'm sitting in about the middle of a pack of 140 guys.  I line up on the right side.  The first turn into a narrow slippery hill is a left-hander.  Some dufus (probably several, actually) will squeeze in to the left side and cause a crash on that turn.  If I'm on the right side, maybe I can get through it. 

2:02pm:  The gun goes off.  We're sprinting down the road.  I'm waiting for the crash, ready to hopefully stay upright and get around it.  Come around that left-hander and there we go: People on the ground, all I can do is put a foot down and scoot up the hill.  Three people run into me at speed.  I guess it's easier than using your brakes.

2:03pm:  Thankfully, I made it through the first few turns without a crash, and without a bike problem.  It's race time!

2:04pm:  I am going backwards.  Damn it.  People passing me left and right.  Dig a little harder, dude.

2:05pm:  Onto the grassy part of the course.  People falling all over the place.  I avoid them and pass a few guys who are apparently stronger than their technical skills allow for.  I bet they didn't pre-ride the course for an an hour and fifteen minutes.

2:20pm:  This course is hard.  I knew it would be, but holy crap, I am tired.  There are a few sections of the course where I just go backwards.  If I were in better shape, I could maintain my position and resume my momentum in the technical grassy sections.  If...but I'm not.  Come on, dude.  Pedal!  What's wrong with you!

2:45pm:  Through the finish area, the crowd goes nuts.  Everyone is screaming.  I am oblivious, just trying to get through the race.  Just before turning off the asphalt, I look back and see the race winner about to cross the line, hands held high in the air.  He's done.  I'm not. 

2:46pm:  I am the last guy on the course right now.  Everyone behind me has been pulled from the race, so I can't get passed on this last lap.  There are some guys way up there ahead of me.  I don't think I can catch them, but I will try.

2:50pm:  I am getting close to some guys but we all know it's our last lap and are going awfully hard.  I can't catch them with horsepower, maybe on the grassy stuff I can make up some ground.

2:52pm:  I caught them!  On the super crazy off camber downhill right before the finish.  But then I mess up the turn at the bottom of the hill and they gap me again. 

2:53pm:  They hit the asphalt and are gone.  I sprint to try to catch them, but there was no way.  I cross the line and fold over. 

2:55pm:  Friends, warm Shimano towel, good times.  Heidi gives me a beer.  Perhaps the best beer I've ever tasted in my life.  My season is over.  I was feeling a little bummed about my race, but I'm really happy now.

3:10pm:  Grab my jacket and watch the 30-34 race.  Those guys are fast.  Now that my race is over, I'm relaxed and really enjoying being a spectator.  Talking with friends, screaming at the racers as they go through the barriers by the beer garden.  This is fun.

4:00pm:  Back to the car and change.  It's really cold.  Toes are frozen.  Brrrrr.

4:30pm:  Showered, feeling warm again.  Now we're off to a Presto Velo party.  Fun guys, and Rich Cramer has a third place medal to look at.  Congrats, Rich.

9:00pm:  Out to the course again to take in the Clydesdale race.  I was going to do this, but I was just wiped out.  Maybe next year.  I can't believe how many people are out here yelling at the racers, who are wearing costumes and big head-mounted lights to see where they're going.  Brad Ross comes through wearing a polka-dot jersey.  Short sleeves and shorts, no gloves, in 30 degrees.  I bet he's cold. 

9:30pm: I have no idea who won.  Coker comes in second, not able to defend his title.  He looks intensely disappointed.  I was rooting for Brad to win, but Coker and GeWilli were tied for my #2 pick.

9:45pm:  I walk around the crowd saying hello to whomever I can find.  It's fun to catch up.   I want to stay out late but my buddies are not up for it.  We head home, need to get up early and clean up the house, wash the sheets.  We have to be home by noon.

 

Sunday, 8:15am:  In the car, on the way home.

9:30am:  I remind my travel companions we will not be stopping for chicken nuggets.

10:00am:  I remind my travel companions we will not be stopping for chicken nuggets.

10:30am:  I remind my travel companions we will not be stopping for chicken nuggets.  It never gets old.  For me.

12:15pm:  I'm home.  The kids scream, Donna smiles.  Hugs all around.  I had a great time, but it's nice to be back.  I hope to give it another go next year! 

 

Photos courtesy Heidi Swift.  Thanks!

I did it.  I competed in the national championship race.  Amazing experience.

Bend is a bit of a drive for me, so I made an overnight trip of it.  I drove there Friday afternoon, and went home early Sunday morning.  That's a lot different from my normal routine of arrive/race/get home for dinner.  I brought along friends Hugh and Monty to take in the sights and sounds of the national championship.

Most of my fellow competitors were in the same boat.  2000 people came to race this weekend, along with who knows how many spectators accompanying them.  The racing started on Thursday, which meant by Saturday, everyone who'd raced the previous two days were out watching the races.   In short, there were a lot of very enthusiastic spectators out there.

Clearly, I'm no PRO, but MAN I do love cyclocross.  And the scene in Bend this weekend...well it doesn't get much better than that for a guy like me.  So many crazy spectators.  So much energy.  And the course?  Awesome.  I'm still smiling when I remember riding through the tunnel of screams by the beer garden, or the crash-hungry crowd willing us through the long off-camber section.  Doing what I love to do on an super fun course while getting screamed at by thousands of people...YEAH!

So how did my race go?  I had a blast, it was great.  My result was quite underwhelming, but I'm still smiling, so I did something right.  Turns out I was the last sucker to ride the lead lap.  As I rode through the finish line with one lap to go, the announcers went nuts.  The fans went nuts.  The screams were unreal.  Why were they screaming for me like that?  I looked back just before leaving the asphalt to see the race winner holding up his arms.  Ahh, that makes sense. 

I tried to catch the guys in front of me on my last lap of my cyclocross season.  I got awfully close, but I just couldn't do it.  When I crossed the line, I was wiped out, nothing left.  I hunched over my bike and closed my eyes for a second to catch my breath and come to grips with what I just did.  My season was over.  I was the last guy on the lap.  I was kind of embarrassed, maybe a little disappointed.

But then I opened my eyes, and there were friends of mine smiling at me.  We talked about the race, the course, and how fun it was.  Nothing but encouragement.  It was the best five minutes of my weekend,  and I don't think I'll ever forget it.

So I guess I finished 75th (out of about 140 I think).  Not so great but that field contained some very serious, dedicated and talented athletes.   Every year I do this, I learn something.  I learn new technical skills, like how to ride through really thick mud without tipping over.  I also remember how it feels to finish a race like this, and all the little segments where I knew I could go much faster with just a little bit more fitness.  I can certainly do better, and that's what I'll be gunning for in 2010.

The bike worked great, no mechanicals.  I had one crash at the base of the stairs and several close calls saved by a quick foot stomp on the ground.  And it was muddy!  Gotta love the mud.  Mud in Bend, who would have thought. 

I got to see a lot of people I don't normally get to hang out with.  John and John from Bailey Bikes were there.  Brent Prenzlow was also there representing SoCal.  And I finally met the infamous GeWilli, a crazy cyclocrosser from New England.

So thanks everyone for the wonderful experience.  I had a blast.  I will be back next year. 

Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for more adventures.

Race photos courtesy Matt Westermeyer.  Thanks!

Once again, we are fortunate to have had the USGP roll through town for another weekend of racing.  Normally, this is the big finale of my racing season.  However, since the national championships are in Bend this year, I'm ending with an even bigger race instead.

It's been a while since I've raced, and I certainly felt it out there.  Training has been pretty sparse, too.  It's awfully hard for me to keep riding during the Holiday season with so much family stuff going on.  The first half of the race was hard for me to just get going fast.  That's been a big problem of mine this year.  The last half of the race always goes better for me than the first.  And since the USGP and National races are only 45 minutes instead of an hour, my second half is not so long.  I'll just have to keep that in mind all week leading up to Bend.

The USGP race was held at PIR, same venue we used a month earlier.  The course used a completely different part of the grounds, incorporating the motocross track and the infield area used for short track racing in the summer.  The course was awesome, with lots of twists and turns, sharp off camber corners followed by an immediate steep slippery climbs, and tons of wide open roadway to tie everything together.  Fantastic course. 

It's been cold and dry for the past week, so I assumed we wouldn't have any mud out there.  I was wrong.  When I arrived and pre-rode the course, the ground was either rock hard frozen, or super snot slippery.  I'm telling you, the mud at PIR is the best cyclocross mud around.  That doesn't mean it's easy to ride in, but it's just so...so...gooey.  And it changes characteristics with the weather, always different.  I love it.  Nothing like the soul crushing mud at Krugers.

Anyway, midway through the race, the course got a lot more tacky and I could ride more of the short steep climbs that we all ran at first.  Each lap of the race was better, and probably faster for me.  I would love to review the lap times, but I doubt that's possible because I forgot to wear my timing chip.  Doh. 

That was Saturday.  I skipped Sunday's race in favor of some nice family time.  I'll be in Bend for the weekend, and I'll sure miss them.  I'll be racing on Saturday in the 35-39 Elite race.  I know several people I'll be racing with, all much faster than I am.  It should be really fun.  I might also partake in a rumored clydesdale race (200 pounds or more), which is apparently going to be the entertainment for a party on Saturday night.  

So that's what I'm up to.  I'm hoping to ride a respectable race in Bend on Saturday.  I just want to ride a clean race and come out happy with how hard I pushed myself.   Oh, and if you are also going to Bend, and you happen to see me on Saturday wondering around, do me a favor and ask "aren't you supposed to be warming up right now?"    Warmups are so easy to procrastinate and so hard to do quickly.

One more race to go, and then it's time to reflect on the season and hang up the 'cross bikes for a while.  I've already broke out the fixie and looking forward to riding it all winter.  One more race to go.

One more thing - thanks for the cheers on Saturday.  I heard a lot of them, and I really appreciate it.  I have not figured out how to acknowledge them while racing, but that doesn't mean I don't hear them.  I'm usually focused 30 feet up the course and have no idea what's going on right next to me.   So thank you very much.  Have you heard Heidi Swift yell?  Holy crap.  Cracks me up every time.  Thank you.

See you in Bend?

Here's how my race went:

The only people anywhere near me were Brody Boeger and Tina Brubaker, and we encouraged each other.  Here I am, uh, falling into the corn maze next to Brody:

It was surprisingly comfortable in there:

Yeah, I guess it really was fun.  Glad I made it out there.

Thanks to Tim Marrinan for the fun photos

There I stood, watching my race leave without me.  I got off my bike to find the source of the loud cracking noise that brought me to a grinding hault, not five seconds after the start.  My brake's straddle cable came off, the caliper caught the rim and got sucked into the spokes.  Seriously?  How does that even happen?  I fixed the problem, and looked up to the challenge ahead of me.  I joked out loud, saying I had them just where I wanted them.  Actually, that was true.

I had nothing to loose.  If ever I was the underdog, this was it.  I hopped on my bike, stomped on the pedals and started a crazed hunt for victims.  I'd passed my first rider within a minute, and they just kept coming. 

It didn't take long for me to realize something wasn't quite right with my bike.  I'd pulled a spoke clean through the rim, and it was getting pretty badly out of true.  My gears were jumping all over the place, too.  I had a spare in the pit, but it was a single speed, and the passes kept coming, so I just stayed with the wounded 'A' bike.  I decided I'd do a bike swap when it became unrideable, but It never did.

Coming into the bell lap, I heard someone tell me I was just a few places outside the top ten.  Really?!?  Top 10 may not sound like much, but I really wanted that.  I kept digging to see what I could get.

Final lap, last half mile.  I bridged up to a group of five with Mike Szwaya.  We were riding along a gravel road on the top ridge of the park.  Soon, we'd make a sweeping downhill left-hander into some slick, fast ground.  The time to attack was now.

Just moments, and I mean maybe one second before I attacked, Mike took a dig.  His teammate Martin Baker saw it happening and grabbed his wheel, and I found a bigger gear that wouldn't skip and jumped on behind him.  Down the sweeping turn, through some slick bumpy ground, we slowed up a bit.  I jumped at the chance and attacked, heading to the final nasty run-up before the finish line.  I hit the run-up in front, but Martin outran me and got to the line first.  I rolled in for 10th place, which I think is my best placing ever in the Master A category.  Yeah, I'd like to be fighting for the win, but one step at a time! 

Today, I'll take 10th, gladly. 

Race photo courtesy Dave Roth