Berkshires Boondoggling

It was a fine day to attack some climbs in the Berkshires on Saturday. Nine of us converged on Charlemont for a short(ish), high climbing density loop. On the menu: Monroe Hill, Kingsley Hill, Tilda Hill, Mt Greylock, and Hoosac Rd. Kingsley Hill Rd is know as the "meanest mile in Massachusetts," with the first half mile averaging over 20% grade. Mt Greylock is the highest point in the state. Any ride that links these two must be good stuff, right?

The pace heading up Zoar Rd towards the summit of Monroe Hill caused me some consternation. I've never started a loop here that hard. I was worried about myself foremost, but also how shattered the group would become by Hoosac Rd much later. I hadn't ridden with several of the guys before, and it appeared there was no "dead wood" in the group. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a little bit scared. Would the cramping demons come to roost in my quads later in the ride?

Summit of Monroe Hill

Everybody reached the summit of Monroe Hill within a minute's window. An insane descent quickly brought us down to the Deerfield River, which meant the feature attraction was up next. Most of the riders in the group hadn't climbed Kingsley Hill Rd before. Rumors and myths had everybody nervous. I ran fairly low gears with a 36t Q-ring up front mated with 32t MTB cassette in back. I wasn't worried. For the most part, everybody did pretty good. There's no way to climb Kingsley without doing some damage. You feel that climb for the rest of the ride. Regrouping at the top, we learned that Jeremy was having wheel trouble. One of his Boyd carbon wheels was starting to delaminate, possibly from overheating on the Monroe Hill descent.

Jeremy decided to press on with us. Tilda Hill was next, which starts off with some rollers, but soon you wonder why you are going so slow. You look down at the GPS and it says 12% grade. Oh, that's why. Fifteen miles in, I already logged 3200ft of climbing.  A quick drop brought us to Rt 2, one of the best descents of the ride.

I wasn't the only one concerned about the pace. Paul asked me to rank the pace relative to typical Hill Junkie rides. I assured him it was pretty high, and I hadn't started this loop at such high intensity right out of the gate. He was relieved.

The plummet to North Adams is sweet, even if it is on a busy state highway. Bicycles go just as fast if not faster than motor vehicles, so it is safest to take the lane. About 6 miles of 40mph costing dumped us out in downtown. We waited a while for Jerry and Jeremy. A few of the riders had evening commitments, so an executive decision (not by me) was made to press on. Jerry and Jeremy carpooled in together, so we figured if Jeremy's bike became unrideable, Jerry could rescue him.

At the base of Mt Greylock, Paul ask where the TT route started. I had no intention of time-trialing up this beast. That's what race day is for. Brett and Paul set a very stiff pace to start. I dangled off the back on the initial 17% grade section. I wanted some of what Brett was on. If he held that pace all the way up, he will either be waiting a long time for me or I'll implode trying to match the pace.

Before long, our group fragmented. First Dave and Mike dropped off. Then it was just Paul and I leading the way. Along the flat(ish) part most of the way up, Paul dropped off. I was just holding the pace I started at the bottom.

A few cars passed us near the bottom, then a half hour went by with zero cars on the road. This was opening day for Mt Greylock. Very surprising.

I summited in 49 minutes, much slower than my race PR, but not bad for 6000ft of climbing in 32 miles. Most of the others were not far back at all.

From summit of Mt Greylock, looking down on Adams

nearly 3000ft below.

We decided to forgo a food stop in North Adams, expecting to do that at the summit lodge. It was still closed when we got there, but we were able to top off our water bottles from a faucet on the back. Glad I took a couple extra food items with me.

Summit monument. In this photo Tom, Mike, Paul, Isaac,

Brett and Dave.

The view was quite spectacular, bluebird skies and 100+ mile visibility. There weren't many people up there. To our surprise, Jerry arrived. He reported that Jeremy's wheels, both of them, pretty much disintegrated approaching the Rt 2 hairpin on the descent to North Adams. He didn't crash, but his ride was over. Jerry left Jeremy his car keys, anticipating that he'd hitch a ride back to the car.

Heading back down Greylock. I used my wife's camera and didn't

realize memory card was full. Last photo of ride.

So now we're back up to eight riders descending the south side of Mt Greylock. Our plan was to take the Quarry Rd cutoff, which is a rough, seasonal dirt road. The climbing is quite steep, and there was, gasp, mud. There was bitching about the ride becoming a true to Hill Junkie form boondoggle. The descent has some pretty choppy sections on it, and with eight pairs of skinny road tires bombing down, I half expected to be missing a rider at the bottom due to a flat. But we all made it.

A quick jaunt through town on the mostly deserted rail trail brought us to the last major climb of the ride much too quickly. Isaac did much of the work on this slight downhill grade, pulling us along at 25+ mph. I felt bonk coming on, drinking only water and not eating enough at the summit of Greylock. Hoosac was going to be a bloodbath.

Brett started killing it again from the get go. I thought to myself, yeah, I know how this is going to turn out. But he made it stick. Him and Jerry killed the climb. The group completely fragmented on Hoosac Rd.

Because Black Brook Rd was still closed from Irene damage, we had to take an alternate route back down to Rt 2 and the cars. It reportedly was mostly dirt, and some of it questionable for skinny racing tires. The first section wasn't too bad, other than being a mine field of potholes. Brett commented how much better it was than some of the roads in the Battenkill race this year. Um, don't say that when more gravel is to come.

Pavement resumed, we started bombing down, thinking wow, that wasn't bad at all. All of a sudden, the road peters out into essentially a jeep trail and we nearly piled into one another stopping. A big sign warns of unmaintained road conditions. This surely can't be right, as another riding group went this way just two weeks earlier. But GPS tracks don't lie (most of the time). More bitching was heard. S. County Rd was a single lane affair, really not much more than a doubletrack. A lot of sharp, crushed granite had just been through down with no binder. There were no clean lines.

After bottoming out, the skinny road pitched up violently. WTF's could be heard. Would loved to have taken a photo, but memory card was full on camera.  Our ride was almost done, yet we had to climb some uber bony crud. Other than exploding wheels, we hadn't had a mechanical or flat on the ride. I thought there was no way eight riders were escaping this without a flat. But I was surprised again. We reached pavement with all tires intact.

We popped out surprisingly high on Rt 2. It appears tropical storm Irene destroyed huge sections of Rt 2, and most of the reconstruction was now complete. We had miles of brand new pavement to bomb 40mph down. We took turns at the front to keep the pace up. With about a mile to go, Brett's rear wheel sounds off with a violent snap, and then a clang, clang, clang... A spoke popped. It was still rideable, so he didn't even stop and just finished getting back to the car. Couldn't have timed that mechanical any better.

The ride went 70 miles, and depending on whose GPS we looked at, we logged 8500-9000ft of climbing. I had just under 4.5hrs moving time. Our goal was to get back to the cars before 2pm, and we just made it. Turned out to be ideal weather. The ride was thoroughly enjoyed by almost all of us. Jerry still had a problem. He gave his keys to Jeremy, and Jeremy never made it to the car. Jeremy's rescuer had no way to pick him up.  Mike was able to help out. How they got three bikes and three bodies in an Insight I'd love to hear.

From Garmin Training Center, which doesn't smooth profile data.

I noticed several anomalies in Strava. In my ride, I'm listed second overall on the Hoosac climb, but when I go to it, I'm not even there. Then on Greylock, I'm shown finishing behind Mike, who was at least a couple minutes back from me. That one I figured out. Turns out I must have crossed the start threshold before we stopped at the start line. My clock started ticking even though I wasn't moving, accumulating minutes on my climb. Silly Strava.



I got superb training value out of the ride and had a blast. That was one of the tightest riding groups I've ridden with on such a hilly course. No hearding cats on this ride. Back at the cars, Dave had "that look" in his eyes. Yeah, he got the punishment he sought too.  There was some discussion to plan a similar ride in Vermont next Saturday. Can't wait.

Finding Balance

It's about time for a running update.  Back about 18 months ago when I learned my bone density was low, I decided to run rather than risk drugs that are proving to have nasty side effects. I had no intentions of running more than twice a week, and no more than three miles each time. That seemed like it would make a reasonable impact, as I was getting zero weight bearing impact activity in my routine. It was painful starting out, and running three miles was something I had to work up to.

Running has taken a much more prominent role in my exercise regimen recently. Five miles is now considered a short run, and typical runs are eight miles. Running twice a week wasn't working. I ran on my recovery days, the days my body most needed rest, and running deprived me of rest. Running was an afterthought, something I squeezed in around skiing or cycling. It wasn't working. I rarely had good training days, as I was tired most of the time.

I found that adaptation to an activity doesn't really happen unless you can commit at least three days a week to the activity. With hillclimb running events on the horizon, I began running three times a week several weeks ago, and I fully integrated these runs into my exercise regimen. I noticed several changes.

First, my easy runs started feeling much easier. An eight minute pace didn't tax my body much harder than a recovery ride. Frequent runs made each run a little less shocking to the body.

Second, by integrating running into my routine, I got my rest days back. It did mean I sacrificed at least one hard training day on the bike, but that day was replaced with a quality run.  Instead of running on Monday when I needed rest, diminishing the training value of work on Tuesday and Wednesday, I was much fresher on those days and got in quality workouts. I also reclaimed Fridays as recovery days for weekend training load.

The third thing I noticed was my performance on the bike hasn't seemed to slip. I've put in the least hours on the bike up to this point in the season than I have in 10 years. Yet I'm pushing power numbers near an all-time high. To be sure, my hours on the bike are quality hours. Only two workouts per week on the bike involve intensity work. Running fills the void of the third intensity workout I used to get in on the bike.

Finally, running seems to abhor fat and devours it. I'm finding it much easier to stay lean since running volume has gone up. Last weekend, my weight was lowest for a hillclimb event than it ever has, at 158 lbs. Even a moderate pace run can burn over 1000 calories in an hour. Running impact seems to tone up much of the body. Could this toning boost metabolism? Does running suppress appetite? Perhaps the cycling that running displaced is at a higher intensity level and burns more calories.  I'm not sure what the link is.

My recent weeks have gone like this. Recover from big volume weekend on Monday - a complete rest day or active recovery spin on the bike. Tuesday, run eight miles at lively 7-7.5min pace. Wednesday, 90 minute intensity ride, usually with VOmax work. Thursday, run five to eight miles at more relaxed 8min pace. Friday, active recovery. Race or do huge ride on Saturday followed by running hill repeats on Sunday.  What did not work for me was run on Monday, leaving me tired for intensity work on the bike Tuesday and Wednesday, then trying to run again really tired on Thursday. The workouts gravitated towards the junky middle.



My body seems to be soaking up the running quite well right now. Granted, my total volume at around three hours per week is puny on real runner's terms, but some of the intensity involved integrated with weekly cycling intensity is something I wouldn't have thought was sustainable last year. Hopefully I can keep it going at least through the three mountain climb events I have planned over the next couple months.

Wachusett Hillclimb

It seems the shorter they are, the harder they hurt. On Saturday, the opening volley of the 2012 BUMPS challenge was held at Wachusett Mountain. It has been a few years since any kind of cycling event was held at Wachusett. The summit road reconstruction is now complete, and the result is fabulous. Wachusett is a new addition to BUMPS and is the shortest climb in the series. It doesn't make it any easier. You just go harder and faster.

New pavement! This is the descent.

I understood BUMPS age group categories went by age on December 31, just as USAC does. Individual events still have discretion to use race day age if they wish. I did not know this. I turn 50 in August and registered in the 50-59 age group. At registration, they had me in the 40-49 age group. I didn't really care what age group I was in, as it is me against the mountain anyway. But I did want to go head to head with Gerry Clapper, who was registered in the 50+ age group. Gerry is a phenomenal climber, and I was feeling a bit cocky, thinking maybe I could stay with him. Or at least turn myself inside out trying. Alas, it was not to be. I went off with the younger group with several other worthy contenders.

The mass-start course is different than the time-trial route used years ago in the Wednesday night series. We started further down Mile Hill Rd. The downhill with 40mph hairpin turn most of the way up is also gone, shortening the course. So I expected times to be a minute or two faster.

I lined up second row behind Greg Larkin, Ulandt Kim, Jeff Johnson, Marti Shea and others. I think they've all beaten me at one time or another in these things. The first kilometer or so is flat to gradually rising. Drafting was significant. I wasn't sure if anybody was going to nail it from the go. We get the 3, 2, 1, go.  Ulandt drills it and started pulling away immediately. Jeff led the chase until things got steep. I was maybe 5-6 back. Slowly, one by one, riders started fading back until nobody was between me and Ulandt. I stood and started mashing a big gear and big Watts. I caught Ulandt and rode right past him. Four minutes in, I was passing riders from the first wave that started five minutes earlier.

I was in my element. Wachusett is really a sprint climb. I figured it would take around 16 minutes. I could throw my fast twitch and VOmax at this thing and maybe do ok. I hammered long stretches out of the saddle. This is uncharacteristic of me, and I think the running has something to do with it. It feels more aerobically efficient when the grade is steepest. Greg, Marti and Jeff were never far back though. At one point about half way up, I had a moment of doubt. I had been at the hurl threshold almost from the start and I thought implosion was imminent. Didn't happen. I hit the finish at 16:15. I could barely talk after I recovered. The dry air, high pollen and hardest breathing since a Weston sprint race did a number to my throat.

Approaching the summit

Finishers accumulating at the summit

I finished fourth overall.  Mark Schwab from Colorado won. He used this hillclimb as an opener for the Pro/1/2 Sterling road race, which he had to scramble to get there in time! Tim Ahearn was second, and Gerry Clapper finished third. All sub-hour finishers on Mt Washington. I didn't want to burden my bike with a PowerTap wheel, so I don't have a quantitative benchmark to compare to. Qualitatively, I usually finish about about 7% back from Clapper. Assuming Gerry is in good form right now, I did quite well finishing only 3% back from him. Could going off in his wave have forced me to muster another 3% in performance? Probably not. I thought my effort and pacing were pretty solid. If I can do 3% back from Gerry on Mt Ascutney in July, I will easily beat my PR. I've been racing Ascutney since the inaugural event in 2000.

Base area from part way down. Mt Monadnock peak on left.

Wapack Range towards right, were I did running repeats

on Pack Monadnock the next morning (ouch!).

The event drew about 200 participants, which is excellent for a first-time event and considering the Sterling road race was going on practically next door the same day. Joe Tonon/Destination Cyling pulled off a flawless execution of the day's activities, which included a kid's race, post race BBQ and awards. It will definitely go on my calender again next year.

After lunch, JoeyB from Connecticut and I went for a tour of the surrounding hill country.My first Vermont Six-Gaps ride was with Joey many years ago.  We headed up on the western flank of Wachusett on W. Princeton Rd, which to my surprise, was gravel. No problem for skinnies though. We bombed down through Princeton center, then over to Justice Hill Cutoff. Rigor mortis had already set into my legs. How could a 16 minute effort do so much damage? Freaky. Just as we approached the intersection of North Row and Heywood, the Pro/1/2 field of the Sterling race went by.

We dropped down into Leominster and then started working our way back via Elm St (500ft climb) and the classic Hobbs/Pine climb to the state park entrance. Joey was game for the summit again on such a pristine day. This time the gate was closed, as the park hasn't officially opened yet. It was nice to bomb that 1000+ feet of vertical a second time.  We finished with 38 miles, 5000+ feet of climbing in 3:15 riding time.  A very satisfying day.

New Ride

A few years ago I picked up a Ridley Crosswind CX bike from a teammate for a good price. The bike didn't fit me well, but for dirt road touring it would work just fine. Even though my Crosswind is a 56.5cm frame, it stands very tall. I have zero standover clearance. The BB is high, and it has a tall head tube. This all makes for a bike that is not suited well at all for me in racing. It was pretty heavy too.

With more and more "monster cross" events like Ironcross and dirt road ronde's or brevets popping up, it was time to upgrade my cross bike. No sense in spending all that time on a bike that is sized for someone with much longer legs than me.

My team picked up Trek sponsorship this year. The local Trek rep offered a really sweet deal to Alpine Clinic riders on Trek bikes and Bontrager apparel. When you think cross bikes, Trek may not be one of the first brands that come to mind. They do offer a fine bike, however, the Cronus Ultimate.  I hesitated at first, as I'm not fond of SRAM shifters. The deal was just too good to pass up. I ordered a bike through our sponsoring shop, Rhino Bike Works.

Ultegra tubeless wheels. No need to upgrade these. I now have

two sets. Tubeless tires will go on soon.

The bike was in Trek stock and took just a few days to arrive at Rhino. The SRAM S900 crank that came on the bike had to go. It was 130mm BCD with 46/38 rings and had short 172.5mm arms. For the events I do, I need more range in gearing (top and bottom) and must stay with my standard crankarm length. I happened to have an new Ultegra compact crank laying around. Would this work? The new frame uses one of the zillion new bottom bracket anti-standards out there, something called BB90. My Shimano crank uses standard threaded in BB bearings. Turns out the outside interface of external BB bearings is 90mm, and Trek duplicated this with integrated pressed in bearings. No more external cups. You just need the right bearings for the crank you want to use. Matt just happened to have a set of Shimano bearings on hand and would fix me up when I came to pick the bike up.

Internal cable routing

Massive bottom bracket structure. Down tube is 90mm wide

at base! Bearings and crankarms are flush with frame.

I went to pick the bike up at Rhino in Plymouth after our ride in the Whites on Saturday.  The bike in hand is amazingly lightweight. It weighs less than my Dean Ti road bike in fact. Is that nuts, or what? Matt swapped out the crankset for me, depsite the shop being crazy busy. Thanks Matt! I couldn't wait to take it for a spin on Sunday.

The canti brakes. Protrude, but highly effective.

Post and cable routing. I use Terry Fly saddles on nearly all

of my bikes, but this Bontrager saddle may be a keeper. No

issues after 2hr ride.

I mapped out a 25 mile loop of rooty singletrack, rail trails, pavement and rough carriage roads for a test ride, a bit of everything. I'll jump right to what I liked and disliked about the bike.

Likes:

• The 90mm wide BB shell makes for the stiffest BB of any bike I've ridden. It is amazing how efficient this bike feels under power. My next road bike will use a BB90 bottom bracket standard.
• The Avid Shorty Ultimate brakes. They have at least 2x the stopping power of the canti's on my Ridley. They stick out though, and I wouldn't want to get snagged by one.
• The bike weighs 17 lbs and change with XT pedals and 34mm knobby tires. That's four pounds lighter than my Ridley.
• Very snappy, racy handling.
• Internal cable routing. Clean appearance and easier to clean after a messy ride.

Dislikes:

• The bulge at the base of the SRAM hoods causes almost immediate ulnar nerve trouble in my hands. I will need to experiment with bar rotation or sliding the levers around on the bar.
• My toes can rub the front wheel. Probably due to racy geometry, but I also was wearing my new MTB shoes where I think I got the cleats a little too far back. Not a problem riding, but big problem if you miss clip-in and wobble. I could rub tire on Ridley with old shoes too, but it is easier to do on the Trek.
• SRAM index shifting is not crisp like Shimano's, especially when shifting to easier gears.
• White hood covers. In one ride they are already dirty.

Overall, I was extremely happy with the bike. I rode the bike exactly how Matt set it up before meeting me. The fit was nearly spot on. How did he do that?  A few tweaks with the levers and saddle position should bring the bike very close to perfect. Looking forward to many D2R2's, monster cross races, and perhaps a few traditional cross races on this bike.

4NaaP 2012

Post topics are accumulating faster than I can find time to create them. Work hours have gone up a bit, and home projects need attention. I at least have to put a few pics up from last Saturday's ride in the White Mountains.

The Waterville TT was cancelled due to low registration numbers. My team puts it on. This opened the day up for a team ride. After a bunch of discussion on routes, we agreed on a 4NaaP ride - Four Notches and a Pass. Dave and Isaac joined four other Team Alpine Clinic riders and myself in Lincoln, NH.

It was wet leaving home, then sun before reaching Lincoln, then dark and drizzly again in Lincoln. Heading up Kinsman Notch was miserable. Strong wind in the face and drizzle that became increasingly dense as we approach the summit. Four of us crested together with the other three nowhere in sight. Ugh. We waited. Shivered. Then bombed down to Rt 16 where it would at least not be as windy. My knees never got so cold. I did not wear knee warmers, expecting the temp to promptly reach the 60's. I bet it was in the 40's and drizzling at Kinsman Notch.

Windy, drizzling and cold on at Kinsman Notch.

Isaac and Dave

Eventually Carl, Dana and Lou showed up. Guess an emergency bio stop was needed. Rt 116 throws a few rolling punches at you. It was just what I needed to get warmed back up. My feet were frozen too.

The next climb, Rt 18 up to Franconia Notch, gets a bit more serious. Now that everybody was warmed up, I expected the gloves to come off on this climb and everybody show how tough they were. Isaac's GPS was picking up my PowerTap again (as he wasn't running a PT), and he was heckling me on my wimpy power numbers. Lou starting pulling away from the group and I hopped on his wheel. Rt 18 is a long climb to hold 400W. Seems every time I looked down, I was doing over 400W. I hadn't met Lou before, so I wondering if he was going to let up at some point. Nope. I barely stayed with him to the summit, cresting ahead of the others. I fretted over how I would pay for that later in the ride.

After regrouping, we began bombing down Rt 3 to Twin Mountain. The roads were still wet and drizzle was in the air. We tried to get a paceline going, but pacelines on wet, sandy roads suck. We no more than got going when Pierre flatted. It took an eternity to fix this flat. Dave and Isaac bolted, never to be seen again. Right back to shivering.

How many Alpine Clinic riders does it take to fix a flat?

Pierre, Dana, Carl and the Hill Junkie. Photo by Lou Bergou.

We got rolling again on Rt 3, now down to five guys. Not two miles into it, Dana flatted. Nasty pinch flat on a stone. I was never going to get warmed up. Fortunately, we figured out how not to break tubes, waste CO2 cartridges or break pumps fixing this flat and got rolling much more quickly.

When we got down to Twin Mountain, the sun started coming out and dried things up. Maybe I'd get warm after all. We stopped at the Irving station to replenish fluids.

Approaching Crawford Notch Plummet.

We had a nice tail wind on Rt 302 over Crawford Notch. Made up some time. I held 54+ mph for a good while on the steep part of Crawford. It didn't feel the least bit fast. Had I punched it over the lip, I could easily have hit an all-time speed record.

By the time we reached Bear Notch Rd, my legs didn't feel so good. Remember that 400W effort on Rt 18? That was coming back to haunt me. Carl and Dana told Lou, Pierre and myself not to wait for them at the summit. This 1200ft climb has a perfectly engineered 6% grade. Just put it in a middle gear and grind for 20 minutes. It was deja vu all over again. Lou set a pretty stiff pace that eventually shelled Pierre with me barely hanging on. Lou commented that he used to run 70-80 miles per week. That base certainly carried over well to cycling.

Pierre thought that was pretty much it for the climbing and that we'd pop out on the Lincoln side of Kancamagus Pass. Um, no. Biggest climb to go. He thought we were joking. He was crushed when he realized we were serious. My philosophy is that all great rides must end in death march territory. Putting the biggest climb in at the end caps a ride off nicely. I don't understand why others don't see things the same way.

We pacelined to the final steep sections. Pierre dropped off. I was surprised I wasn't cramping yet and picked it up another 20-30W and crested solo. I was spent.  Lou and I bombed back to town with Lou doing most of the work. It was one of my faster 4NaaP rides with an average very nearly 20mph.



It was great to finally meet more of the team. The day finished out nicely too, in short sleeves for the second half of the ride. Got in some good training value, particularly on the Franconia and Bear Notch climbs. I drove up solo so I could pick up my new bike at Rhino Bike Works after the ride. I've gotten a test ride in already, the subject of my next post.

"At least you didn't have a gun"

Tuesday I went out at lunch for a short recovery spin. It was raw out, cold and drizzly, possibly the first time I've ridden in rain this year. I'm always a little more cautious riding when it is wet. Not so much reduced traction or braking power. Cyclist are already invisible to some drivers. When wipers are going and cars are kicking up a little mist, cyclist become invisible to a larger population of drivers.

I was heading south on Daniel Webster Hwy approaching a side street, Henry Clay Dr. There was a car at the stop sign, waiting to turn right. A quick glance over my shoulder to make sure nobody was going to right-hook me said back was clear. Make eye contact with driver waiting to pull out. I had wind to my back and there is slight downhill grade there. I was cruising 25mph. All was good.

Suddenly, without any warning, a car comes flying from the opposite direction on DWH towards me. No blinker that I recall, no waiting in left turn lane, just full speed sudden left turn. Speed limit is 40mph. Most cars travel closer to 50mph on that stretch. The turn is not a hard 90 degrees, but more sweeping from the direction the car was coming. Thus you don't have to slow down much.

In an instant, I realized impact was imminent. I had nowhere to go with a car sitting there. I pretty much thought that was it, that that was my final ride. In a last desperate act, I thrust my bike forward, as in a photo sprint at the line. The front corner of the bumper flew by under my left hip. Miraculously, bike and body cleared the car. Closing velocity between us had to have been at least 50mph, maybe over 60mph. Had I been about 0.2 seconds later, I would have been dead.

After I cleared the car, I was now on collision course with tall granite curb, telephone pole, and razor sharp reflector posts. A split second after dodging the car, I was now panicking trying to not get sliced in two on other obstacles. I barely saved it and stopped. I was trembling uncontrollably.

It didn't take long before the trembling turned into rage. Somebody nearly killed me and kept going. I turned around and began sprinting up Henry Clay Dr. It goes to the YMCA, so I suspected I would catch up to the driver. The car was cresting the top of the modest rise when I gave chase, motioning to pull over. Surprisingly, the car did. I think it was a full-size Buick.

I let up from my explosive sprint as I see the driver's window going down. Uh, oh. Punks? Somebody that's going to scream expletives at me for being on the road? Are they armed? This all crossed my mind as I approached the car.

It was a woman, about my age. She was trembling and began apologizing profusely. She was nearly in tears and shaken up as badly as I was. I said "you could have killed me!" She replied "I know, I know, I just didn't see you." I gave her credit for stopping and accepted her apology. She said "At least you didn't have a gun." She rightfully understood how upset that could make somebody.

I sensed no lecture was necessary. Cyclists must accept the fact they are lowest on the visibility food chain when it comes to the battle on the roads. Sometimes drivers just don't see you. I was wearing my red Nor'East jacket, which has decent visibility. I suspect there was traffic coming up behind me and the woman was fixated on them, perhaps thinking "I better turn now, or I'll have to wait." It would be easy to miss a cyclist coming up the right shoulder.  In the future, I will wear a hi-viz yellow shell on dreary days.

It took a good while for the adrenaline to settle down, like the rest of my ride. It didn't sink in right away how close that incident was. Rolling an ankle in the woods is one thing. Head-on with a fast car is a risk level I can barely comprehend. Be careful out there, folks.

Massasoit Lung Challenge

Overall, training has been going quite well since the beginning of the year. Fitness benchmarks are significantly improved from January.  I've had my share of bad luck though. When heading to Arizona last month, it hadn't rained in 87 days. You expect it to be dry in March in Tucson. It not only rained during our trip, we got sleeted on. The temp was back to 80F the following week.

So I planned to do this race called the Massasoit Lung Challenge at a venue I've never been to. I waited until the last minute to pre-register, as I have no interest in riding or racing in foul weather. This was on Friday. The very next morning, I woke up sick. I hadn't been sick in a long time, so why the day before my first race of the season? This wasn't one of those scratchy throat ordeals either. It was full-on headache and feeling weak and achy all over deals. The probability that I'd be in the mood for racing Sunday plummeted.

I didn't feel awful when I got up Sunday, just kind of crappy.  The weather was going to be stellar. The trails were likely dry. In short, we're lucky if we get one race day this good per season. I couldn't bail. The venue is only about an hour away, so not a big commitment to head down.

I warmed up on the first two miles of the course. Crap, I was going to kill myself on it. The course wasn't technical per se, but at speed it presented many opportunities for bodily harm. The singletrack was fairly wide and very rooty. I break bones on less technical terrain, and my phobia of going fast on stuff like this would get the best of me.

I was amazed how large the Cat 1 fields were. The 40-49 and 50+ fields both had 30+ starters. Stacked too. Lots of roadie power was present. Most guys were on 29" bikes, mix of dualies and hardtails. I brought my 26" dualie Racer-X. Probably the right choice over my 29" hardtail, as my back was killing me by the end of the race with squish under me.

I lined up at the back of my field. I didn't want to be in anybodies way when my apprehension took over in the trickier bits. Plus I was feeling crappy.  This turned out to be a huge blunder. Alby said it better than I can in the first few paragraphs of his recap. In the first two miles I lost at least two minutes. I think I came to a complete stop 4-5 times. First into the singletrack, then at each of the two bridges, plus a couple other pinch points. That was the slowest first 10 minutes of any MTB race I've done.

Once we got to the doubletrack, I started passing riders in ones and twos. Things opened up a bit and finally I cold throw down some roadie Watts. I was burning matches left and right. I started seeing Keith Button (CCB) and Joe Rano (Gear Works) ahead. They started in rows one and two, so I started feeling pretty good about myself. Then we hit the hills. There were three that stuck out. The first was rideable but put a deep sting in the legs. A short while later, a second, much steeper climb was clearly a run-up. I doubt anybody was riding it. Immediately after, another stinker forced me off my bike. I'm sure there were several riders cleaning this one, but I figured I'd get over quicker on foot and didn't try on any of my laps. Bombing down this last one brought us back to the start/finish. My first lap took nearly 37 minutes.

I passed Keith and Joe on the second lap. A bit of tag occurred, as I couldn't hold them off in the techy stuff.  Once we got to the doubletrack and climbs, I gapped them for good. Keith and a couple others raced Quabbin the day before, so I was impressed with his effort.  I caught up with Dave Belknap and Andy Chambers (Nerac Earth) towards the end of the second lap. I could pass and put distance on them on the climbs and open doubletrack, but got killed on the technical stuff.

One thing stood out in this race. I use my brakes way more than my competition. The fear of crashing, or snapping an ankle again, is overpowering. How does one get past that? I was "that guy" in this race for sure. Attack and pass people when roadie Watts could be laid down, but then gum up the works as soon as we went into rooty chicane sections. I had a couple very close calls on lap two. One, a root took my front wheel away. I jambed my right foot down so hard it made my whole leg hurt. How I managed to stay up is beyond me. Another time my Racing Ralphs didn't quite hold around a fast loose over hardpack turn. It might have almost looked like I knew what I was doing, a nice tripod skid around a turn. But I nearly soiled my chamois on that one. I finished the second lap a little faster than my first lap.

I couldn't ditch Andy and Dave. There was just enough techy stuff forcing me to brake where they would let momentum run out. On the third lap, Dave started to fade and I managed to grow a gap on him. I got a third wind and even charged ahead of Andy for a bit. But he was super smooth on the most off-cambered, rooty nastiness. I wasn't. The ratio of roadie friendly to real mountain biker terrain just wasn't high enough for me to stay ahead of him to the finish. We only had another 8 minutes to go or so. I can bury myself for 8 minutes, even at the end of a TT effort like this race. The terrain wasn't conducive to burying though. Andy made an impressive, sketchy pass just before the final hills and held it. I crossed the line in 1:49:22, my third lap time almost identical to second lap.

I had no idea how many from my field were ahead of me. I assumed many. When results were posted, I was fairly pleased to finish 7th out of 31 starters. I probably wouldn't have done much better had I felt better. It was a solid field. My crappy start hurt me more than anything else, killing myself for the second half of the first lap to get back in the game. I thought surely I'd cramp up before the finish from that effort.

It was well worth coming out. We don't get race days like this very often, where its cool enough you barely break a sweat but don't need long layers, and your bike and body are clean after the race. I would definitely do this race again. It favors roadie power. Maybe next year I'll have a 29" dualie and get over my phobia.